Finding Joy (The Joy Series) (Volume 2) (28 page)

The lighting in the basement was darker and more intimate. “Holy shit,” I said, looking around. It was no wonder that she’d been the most popular person in her class. I would’ve been, too, if I’d had this room to offer up to my friends as a place to hang out. It was the den of iniquity.

The gaming area was to my left. A full-size pool table took up most of the space, but there was also a foosball table, a shuffleboard deck, and a dartboard hanging on the wall. A Vegas-size slot machine sat in the corner. 

The space to my right included a television that took up the better part of the wall. The Packers and the Lions were currently lined up on the almost life-size forty yard line. Three rows of stadium-style seating were lined up in front of the movie screen. I wanted nothing more than to flop down and finish this game and the next ... and then maybe I’d make it through the day. 

Instead the tour continued to the most impressive part of the room, which unbelievably wasn’t the movie-theater-sized screen. It was the bar.

It was as if someone had picked up an old Irish pub and set if right down in the middle of the Harper basement. The heavy wood bar was framed on three sides. The back wall was mirrored with the phrase “Harper’s Bizarre” painted across the top half. Below that was a shelf that housed every possible type and brand of liquor. And behind the bar stood Garret Harper, playing bartender. Allie pulled out a barstool, sat down, and gestured for me to do the same.

“Did you give Adam the 25-cent tour?” he asked his only daughter.

“I did. We haven’t been out back yet, but I think he’s seen enough for now.”

“Tell me about the Baumgartner case,” he said. “I understand you’re going to be pretty busy for a while.”

“Well, I’m sure you heard that settlement negotiations broke down. I’ve been working my ass off since Saturday. It looks like we are going to trial after all.”

“That’s great,” he said. “Good experience for you.”

“This case has no business going to trial and you know it,” she said.

They were talking over my head. I stared off at the television. The Packers were ahead by seven.  I immersed myself in the game until Garrett’s voice pulled me back to the bar. “Adam, how’s school? Allie tells me you’re about to finally graduate.”

I hadn’t missed the ‘finally.’ Bastard.

“Yes,” I said, leaving off the ‘sir’ because he didn’t deserve it. “Allie and I will be celebrating next month.
We
are looking forward to it.” I hoped he didn’t miss the ‘we.’

“And what are your plans after graduation?” he asked.

“I’m looking at my options. I’ve got a few irons in the fire.”

“Good for you,” he said, nodding his head like he cared. “It’s a good idea not to put all your eggs in one basket.”

“Did somebody say eggs?”

All heads swung around to the source of the voice. Lydia stood at the bottom of the stairs. “I could use some help with the deviled eggs. The little devils aren’t cooperating, and Maria left me.” She giggled at her joke.  

“Stay. Away. From. The. Deviled. Eggs,” Allie said under her breath.

“Sage advice,” Garrett muttered from behind the bar.

“Adam, darling. Allie says you are amazing in the kitchen. Do you think you could help me?”

“Uhh, sure,” I said, sliding off my stool. I looked to Allie for assistance, but got none. Instead, she nodded her head in apparent agreement with her mother.

Maybe she was right. Maybe I was in safer territory with her mom in the kitchen than being grilled by her dad in the bar. I grabbed my drink off the bar and met her mom at the bottom of the stairs.

“Let’s go, love. I need assistance.” She placed a hand on the middle of my back and shoved me up the stairs with a startling amount of strength. I was starting to think that there was a lot of power behind Lydia Harper ... all 5’2” of her ... and not all of it was Garrett Harper.

The door to the kitchen was one of those galley doors that swings both ways and has a circular window at eye level. I had to admit that it was actually pretty cool. And the kitchen was also something else.

White marble countertops stretched out in every direction. Gargantuan stainless steel appliances were tucked into every nook and cranny. The range had at least six burners, and I counted three separate ovens. I wouldn’t mind cooking in this kitchen every day.

“This is amazing, Mrs. Harper,” I said, looking around appreciatively.

“Please call me Lydia.,” she said, as if she was mildly offended. “Allie said you know your way around the kitchen. I’ll be honest with you though. I’m really only well acquainted with one area of the kitchen.”

She swung open an upper cabinet door to expose a fully stocked bar. Apparently, alcohol was going to be the theme of the day. “Can I top you off?”

“I’m good right now,” I said, as she emptied an open wine bottle on the counter into the glass that she must have located somewhere.

“Well, then, let’s get to those eggs. Maria mixed up the insides, but left it up to me to stuff them.”

Stuffing deviled eggs meant picking up a spoon, scooping up a blob of the shit from the bowl, and depositing it in an open half of a boiled egg. At the risk of being disrespectful, I decided not to point that out to her. “I can help you with that,” I said, instead. I pushed my sleeves up my arm to prepare to get dirty.

“Oooooh,” she said, brushing the tattoo around my wrist with her perfectly manicured finger. “What’s this?” she asked.

I was positive that Garrett Harper did not have any tattoos that warranted an ‘ooooooh’ out of his wife. “It’s a friendship bracelet,” I said, vaguely. “I got it to remind myself of someone who meant a lot to me.”

Lydia handed me a spoon and hopped up on the island without taking her eyes off my bare arms. A tray of naked boiled eggs sat in front of me. Apparently, she was going to be a spectator during this process.

“Well, it’s really lovely. I bet you have a few more of those somewhere, don’t you? Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have a man tattoo my name on his body,” she said.

“I don’t know about that,” I said, laughing at her audacity. “No man has ever tattooed my name on his body either.”

“Hmmmmm,” she said thoughtfully, while taking a sip of her wine. “I need to know ... would you ever tattoo Alexis’ name on your chest?”

“My chest is pretty occupied at the moment, but ... yes ... if it would mean something to her, I would tattoo her name on me.” I began scooping deviled egg stuffing into the empty eggs.

“That is just so romantic,” she sighed. “Where are you thinking? Maybe I should take a look?” She arched her eyebrows up in a devilish smile.

Well, I hadn’t actually been thinking about it at all, and ... to be honest ... this was more than a little awkward. I didn’t need Allie’s mom looking at any part of me, tattooed or not. “I’ve got some available real estate on my back,” I said, sliding a little further away from her.

Maybe Garrett Harper should think about getting a tattoo and satisfying his wife.

CHAPTER 16

Alexis

“Sometimes clients don’t know what they’re getting into. They think negotiating a settlement will be easy, but that’s not always the case. What are you thinking, Alexis?”

“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.”