I look up along with Robin and Vinnie.
Coffee Cup Sizes: Been There, 8 oz; Done That, 12 oz; Seen Some Things, 16 oz; Spill the Beans, 20 oz
Seriously?
“Well,” Robin says.“I guess let’s do theSeen Some Things.And make that two.I’ll try it as well.What do you guys want?”
“Uh…black coffee,” Vinnie says.
“Which roast?”She points to another board littered in fanciful roast names.“Personally, I recommend theCrème de la Bean.It’s bright and lively, with a citrus twist.We highly recommend it to our customers who are big dreamers.”
Vinnie blinks.“Um… Okay.And what’s your dark roast?”
The barista widens her eyes.“Oh, you’ll want theBitter End, then.It’s bold, intense, and deeply satisfying.For those who have been there, done that, and are back for more.”
Vinnie nods slowly, his entire body stiffened.“Then I’ll have that, and just give me the biggest size.”
“That would beSpill the Beans.”I nudge him.
He exhales sharply.“Yeah.Whatever.”
“And you?”the barista asks me.
“I’ll have”—I quickly peruse the board—"theDaily Grindroast,Done Thatsize.”
“Perfect.”She taps onto her iPad.“I’ll need a name for these.”
“Robin.”Robin swipes her card and leaves a tip.“Thanks.”
We get back to the table and take our seats.
I give Juno a more assessing look.There’s a faint smear of gold paint on her wrist.She hasn’t noticed it.Or maybe she has and just doesn’t care.
Robin leans back in her chair.“So I have to tell you, Juno, that your work is inspiring.I’m not sure I’ve seen anything like it.”
“Thank you.”She smiles.“I like to think I have something unique to give.”
“You definitely do.”Robin smiles.“Let me in on your secret.How do you get your paintings to exude such perfect motion?I swear I couldn’t stop looking at that one piece on your site,Lunar Whisper.I moved my glance to the left and the whole nebula shifted.”
Juno smiles, her eyes sparkling.“It’s mica pigment.Crushed mineral powder.I layer it in resin with a dry brush, so depending on the angle, you see different textures and light.”
“That’s not just technique,” I say softly.“That’s magic.”
“I like the in-between moments,” she says.“Right before dusk, just after dawn.I want the paintings to feel like that—like they’re breathing.”
Robin exhales.“Okay, now I need to buy one.Or steal one.I’m not above crime for art.”
Juno laughs, the sound low and melodic.“You wouldn’t get far.My frames are made of reclaimed oak.Heavy as hell.”
“So why celestial bodies?”I ask.
Before she answers, the barista calls out, “Robin!”
“I’ll go.”Vinnie rises.He seems glad to be away from this conversation.
Juno shrugs.“I grew up in the mountains of Antioquia, a province of Colombia.I was ten years old when we left.Before that, the sky was everything.We didn’t have much, but I’d sit outside at night and make up constellations.Stories to match.My grandfather taught me to read the sky.”
Robin tilts her head.“Do you ever go back to Colombia?”
