Finding Joy (The Joy Series)

by Jenni Moen

  “I’m not sure,” I answered my dad honestly. I loved talking law with him. “I just wish they had settled. It’s going to mean a lot of work for me now. It’s going to screw up the holidays.”

  “Sometimes settling isn’t the answer,” he said, taking a long sip of his scotch. “Sometimes it makes sense to hold out because you can get a lot more if you don’t jump the gun.” His gaze bored into me. There was no mistaking what he was getting at. We weren’t talking about the case anymore.

  “But sometimes compromise is the answer,” I countered. “Compromise is not giving up. Compromise is giving a piece of yourself to get a piece of someone else in return.

  “Do you really believe, that after everything that’s happened, he’s going to give up anything?” he asked, cutting through all the bullshit.

  “I do,” I answered. “I want this, Dad. I want this more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.”

  He paused ... a long pause ... as if he wasn’t sure how to answer. “Then go get it,” he finally said. “Go get it. And don’t let anyone stop you.”

  I took that as a directive and hopped off the stool I’d been sitting on.

  Adam

  “What’s going on in here?” Allie asked, looking around the messy kitchen. “Did you really make all of this, Mom?”

  Aside from where Lydia sat on the island, every surface was covered with dishes of food. There was way more food than four people could eat. “Oh, well, Maria helped me,” she answered.

  “Wow, I’m impressed.”

  “It’s not like I never cook,” Lydia said indignantly, hopping down from her perch.

  I leaned against the counter on the other side of the kitchen and silently watched their exchange.

  “Really, Mom?” Allie opened a drawer to her left and pulled out a stack of papers. Takeout menus. Now I knew where my girl got her bad habit of ordering food instead of preparing it. Before I moved in with her, Allie survived on cold cereal, peanut butter, and takeout.

  “Put those away,” Lydia scoffed. As Allie returned the menus to the drawer, her mom smacked her playfully on the ass. “Shame on you! Airing our dirty laundry in front of your guest,” she said, winking in my direction.

  “I think our guest has you figured out already, Mom. I bet he’s thinking that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” That got a chuckle out of me.

  “There’s enough food here for an army, so who’s coming?” Allie asked.

  “Just you guys,” Lydia said, opening the oven and peering inside. “I think it’s about ready. I’m going to pop these rolls in the oven for just a minute.”

  “What about Uncle John?”

  “He cancelled at the last minute. You know Johnny. Something better must’ve come along.”

  “More likely, someone better,” Allie quipped.

  “No doubt. But, boy, does that man know how to live,” Lydia said a little wistfully.

  Allie had never mentioned her uncle, but apparently there was a story here. I made a mental note to ask her about him later. She had so little family.

  “My Uncle John is the family playboy,” Allie said, as if she had read my mind. “He’s my dad’s younger brother. His younger, wealthier, and ...”

  “Don’t you dare say better looking,” Garrett said from the kitchen doorway.

  “No way, darling,” Lydia answered for her daughter. She threw a look over her shoulder in Allie’s direction that said she might fail a lie detector test if officially questioned. “Besides you got all the brains in the family, darling. No one can argue with that.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “When are we going to eat? I’m starving, and the Cowboys game starts at 3:30. Adam, do you like football?”

  “Yes, sir,” I answered.

  “Why don’t you boys go open a bottle of wine and spruce up your drinks? Allie and I will put the food on the table.”

  “Where’s the bottle you’ve been drinking?” Garrett asked.

  “Oh,” she said, looking around the kitchen absently. “Maria must have drunk it all.” She shrugged innocently and then began giggling. “Or maybe the turkey drank it. Damn turkey. He’s been a real fighter.”

  “I do believe our chef is a little drunk already,” Garrett said under his breath as he led me out of the kitchen.

  I was accustomed to inebriated mothers. However, a drunken Lydia was very different than a drunken Aileen. My mother didn’t do ‘a little drunk.’ She went from stone cold sober to falling down blitzed in 4.5 seconds. But that’s what happens when you mix booze and pills.

  Honestly, I liked this Lydia better than the one who had answered the door an hour ago, anyway. And though we’d all done a damn fine job of ignoring the awkwardness of the situation, I might just have to join her if I was going to make it through the rest of the afternoon.

  _________________________

  I pulled the blanket up over my pounding head and groaned.

  “How’re you feeling?” Allie asked softly. “There’s a glass of water and some Advil on the table beside you.”

  “I’m all right. Nothing a little Gatorade won’t fix.” Even as I said it, my brain threatened to bust right through my skull.

  “That’s your go-to hangover cure, isn’t it?” she asked.

  I had given her a Gatorade the morning after we’d ‘met.’ She hadn’t stuck around long enough for me to see if it had worked for her, but the few times I’d allowed myself to get drunk, it had worked for me. “I don’t know of anything better.”

  “Mom and I’ll go out and get you one in a few minutes.”

  Mom?

  “What?” I asked, peeking my eyes out. I looked around the flowery room. “Oh, fuck. We spent the night?”

  Allie was propped up on an elbow next to me. “Yeah,” she said, laughing. “You were in no condition to drive and well ....”

  And well ... Allie didn’t drive. I wasn’t even sure she knew how any more. She’d hung up her keys after the accident.

  “So we were stuck,” I said, nodding slightly before thinking better of the movement. I remained silent and still until the searing pain in my head let up. “We need to work on that.”

  “Work on what?”

  “Getting you behind the wheel again.”

  “What for?” she asked. “Why would I need to drive?”

  “Well, if you knew how to drive, we would be in a hotel room right now ordering room service.”

  “I’ll bring you room service,” she said.

  “Really? What are you going to make?”

  “I think I saw some boxes of cereal in the pantry last night when I went foraging for food.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Cold cereal is not what I have in mind this morning.”

  “Do you know what I just realized?” she asked, running a finger up my arm.

  “What? That you need to learn how to cook so you can keep me fed and happy?”

  “No. I’ve never seen you drunk before last night. I mean, I’ve seen you drink, but I’ve never seen you actually drunk.”

  She had never seen me drunk, because I didn’t typically get drunk. Aside from the month when she had left me and I’d drowned my sorrows in one bottle of whiskey after another, I didn’t allow myself to drink like that. The fear that I’d turn out just like my mom ran too deep.

  But I learned a long time ago not to make a big deal of it either. I didn’t owe anyone an explanation as to why I wasn’t a big drinker. As long as you had a drink in your hand, everyone was happy. No one seemed to ever notice that I always stopped at two.

  But last night I hadn’t stopped at two. Or four. I might’ve stopped at six. Even that seemed overly optimistic.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that. Was I a terrible jackass?” I wracked my brain for any jackass-type shit I might have pulled. I mean, I was in the Harper house. The potential for a jackass flare-up was high.

  I mentally flipped through the events of the day before. Lunch had been good. We’d eaten in the
formal dining room, just the four of us sitting at one end of the table that could’ve easily sat eight more.

  It had been fine. Nice, actually. Despite his icy reception at the front door and then again down in the basement, Garrett had unexpectedly warmed up to me. I wondered what Allie had said to him in the basement. No doubt she was responsible for his change in attitude.

  After lunch, we’d all gone back down to the basement to watch the game on the big screen. Garrett had continued to play bartender, and that’s where drinks two through six … or more … had been served. Eventually it had caught up with me. The last thing I remembered was starting the movie.

  Apparently, it was Harper family tradition to spend Thanksgiving night with the Griswolds. Allie had boasted that she could recite every line of Christmas Vacation. It was too bad that part of the night was such a blur.

  “Not at all. You were fine. Funny, actually. I think you and my dad have officially mended fences.”

  “Hmmm, I wish I could remember that.” If it took getting drunk to mend fences with her old man, it was worth it I suppose. I don’t think I would’ve been able to do it sober.

  “And your mom? Did we mend fences, too?”

  Allie laughed. “You don’t remember? She was drunker than you were. You two shared a pie before she put herself to bed around six. She didn’t make it to movie night.”

  “We ate an entire pie?” I asked.

  “Yep,” she said.

  Wow. That wasn’t my style. I didn’t typically go for sweet foods. And Allie’s mom looked like she kept herself perpetually hungry. She probably hadn’t taken four bites of her Thanksgiving meal, which might have had something to do with how drunk she’d gotten.

  “It was impressive. So what’s on the agenda for today?” she asked, nervously picking lint off the blanket between us.

  That’s right. One day down and one to go.

  I was not looking forward to today.

  “Well, I need to go see my mom.”

  “Okay. When are you going to go?” We’d already agreed that I would go alone. I think Allie had been relieved. It would be a while before I could think about putting them together in a room ... maybe never.

  “I’ll go this afternoon if that’s okay.”

  “That’s perfect. My dad asked me to go golfing with him later this morning.”

  “You golf?” I don’t know why I was surprised. We grew up only 10 blocks apart, but she’d had much more of a country club upbringing than I’d had.

  “Actually, I just caddy. Or, really, I just drive the cart. It’s kind of another Harper tradition.”

  There seemed to be more than a few of those.

  “I was thinking that after I get done at my mom’s, we could go out to dinner. Just the two us. Maybe go down to Greenville.”

  “Like a date?” she asked, pulling in closer to my side and laying her head on my chest.

  I dug my hand into her messy morning hair. Exactly, I thought. Like the date we should’ve had 10 years ago and never got. “Yes, like a date. Do I not take you on enough dates?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said, giggling into my chest. “We go out a lot. But usually we have an entourage.”

  It was true. When we went out, the whole gang was usually with us. I pulled her in tighter and made a mental note to take her out more, just the two of us.

  Just the two of us. That thought made me clench up inside. Why couldn’t it always be just the two of us? Why did she want to bring a little person into the mix to mess this up?

  I pushed the thought from my head. She hadn’t brought it up again, and I certainly wasn’t going to today. I had enough on my plate for today.

  “I just want to have a quiet dinner tonight. No parents. No drama. Cool?”

  “Cool. Sounds perfect, actually,” she said. “And then afterwards, we can finally make it to our hotel room, and I can give you that room service I promised.”

  “Speaking of room service ... did you sleep in here, too?”

  “Of course. Why?”

  “Your parents are cool with that?” I asked.

  “Gee, I don’t know. I didn’t ask them. I don’t think they should get much say in who their 28-year-old daughter sleeps with or where. I mean, we live together. I think they realize that means that we sleep in the same bed.”

  “I just mean, your dad is barely tolerating me being in his house. This may push him over the edge.”

  “He was more than tolerating you last night. You two were really yucking it up.” She giggled, and I reached down to tip her face up so that I could see it. As I suspected, it was there. The girl in the hall photo shined from beneath her clear blue eyes.

  This reconciliation made her very happy, and that made me very happy.

  I groaned. “So you’re saying we made some progress? And now I’m in his princess’s bed.”

  Allie snorted. Her light fingers tickled their way down my stomach until she found my junk and grabbed a handful through my boxers. “Get up,” she said.

  Get up? I wasn’t sure whether she was talking to me or my dick until she rolled off the side of the bed.

  “This princess is hungry. Meet you downstairs. Mom’s making breakfast,” she said, throwing the door open.

  “And by that, I mean she’s pouring bowls of cereal,” she said.

  I looked down at the tent I was pitching under the blanket. “What am I supposed to do about this? I thought you said you were bringing me room service.”

  “I don’t know, but whatever you do, don’t bring it downstairs. I don’t think my mom could handle it,” she said. Her laughter trailed behind her down the hall.

  I would have to wait it out. The situation was awkward enough as it was.

  CHAPTER 17

  Alexis

  I drove the golf cart past the bunker on nine and parked close to where I knew his ball should be. My dad had been quiet all morning. I’d been patient, letting him find the words in his own time. But I knew an apology was coming. And it was overdue.

  “Allie, girl,” he said, looking off in the direction of the clubhouse, where Dallas’ finest would be sitting down for a late brunch.

  “Yeah, Dad.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say,” he said. “I’m an asshole, but I never meant to be. Not when it comes to you.”

  Garrett Harper is an asshole.

  I’ve heard it my whole life, but I’ve never put much stock in what people said about him … about what I’ve read in the paper … because that’s just what people say about men like my dad. He was successful. He was a lawyer. That combination, alone, made him an asshole.

  Hearing it come out of his mouth was a new experience for me. The fact that it now rang true was hard to bear.

  “Do you even know what you did? How much unnecessary pain you caused?”

  He let out a heavy sigh that sounded a little like defeat. It was not an emotion he wore easily. “Yes. I think so. Your mom has been trying to make me see the error of my ways. But I was only trying to protect you. I never meant to hurt you.”

  I didn’t doubt that. He had always been my biggest supporter, my number one fan, my champion. Now I knew the extent to which he would go to protect me.

  “Do you forgive me?” he asked.

  What he’d done wasn’t right. Until my dying day, I’d wish that he had done things differently. He should have been up front with me about the accident. Keeping it from me was nearly criminal. But was it unforgiveable?

  If I’d learned anything during the past few months, it’s that everyone deserves forgiveness. If you’re willing to ask for it ... and beg for it when it’s warranted … well I’d like to think that some mercy would be shown. I had been shown a lot of mercy recently.

  If Adam could forgive me, how could I deny the same to anyone else? Let alone my father.

  “Yes,” I answered simply. “But I’m not the only one you hurt.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But Adam was not my conc
ern at the time.”

  “And is he now?”

  “No … yes … maybe. If he’s important to you, he’s important to your mom and me. But at the time I was trying to figure out how to deal with the accident, he was no one to me. You were my baby. It looks like it worked out for the best anyway.”

  “The ends do not always justify the means,” I answered, shaking my head.

  “No. But in this case … if you had known the truth, do you think you two would be together today?”

  It was something I’d never considered, but he was absolutely right. If I had known who Adam was the night I met him in the Library, I wouldn’t have gone home with him. I wouldn’t have even been able to talk to him. My shame and his hate would’ve gotten in the way.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s good for you. And he loves you. Things happen for a reason.”

  “So you’re telling me that you can accept us together?” I asked. If so, this trip had worked out better than I could’ve possibly hoped.

  “I’ll do right by him,” he said, nodding. “I can see that he’s your future.”

  “He is.”

  “Good. Grab on to him and don’t let go. You two are in for a long, crazy ride. Your mom and I … we had it easy. Nothing will be easy for the two of you. But you’re up for it. My girl’s never shied away from a challenge. Just keep your priorities in order and always put each other first. I know that sounds rich coming from an asshole like me.”

  “You’re not an asshole, Dad. Just misunderstood.”

  “Hmmmm,” he said, getting out of the cart and reaching back for a club.

  “You may have some trouble convincing Adam of that,” he said as he walked off in the direction of his ball.

  Adam

  Walking into the open door of the garage was a little like coming home. I would be going to my mom’s later, but this … this was coming home.

  A familiar pair of legs stuck out from beneath a late model 911. A few muffled curse words were uttered, and a clang rang out as a tool hit the concrete floor.