Free Finding Joy (The Joy Series) (Volume 2) by Jenni Moen Page A

without turning back around.
    I smiled contentedly at his backside and headed back into my apartment.
    “Movie night!” Lizzie said with teenage enthusiasm. “What do you want to watch?”
    “You pick. The movies are all in that drawer,” I said, motioning below the TV. “No rated-R’s for you, though.”
    My phone barked in my back pocket, and I pulled it out to see what Carly had to say.
     
CARLY: Have you bought that book yet? I’m at my niece’s piano recital at her church and reading on my phone. These crazy Brits are so hot! I’m so engrossed. I feel like I need to Google ‘puppy mill’ or ‘Auschwitz’ to snap me out of it. I might not be able to stand up and applaud in a minute.
 
ALEXIS: I just got it, but I can’t start it tonight. Lizzie is here.
 
CARLY: Too bad. You’re missing out. Take tomorrow off and stay home and read. Keep Adam handy.
 
    I giggled a little and looked up to find Lizzie watching me. She rolled her eyes and then continued digging through the movies until she found one that met her approval. “How about this?” she asked, holding up the unrated version of Knocked Up .
    “No way,” I said. “That one is beyond rated-R. Plus, the ending may scar you for life…though I applaud your eagerness to accept your situation.”
    “Whatever,” Lizzie said. “It seems appropriate, and I love Seth Rogen. He’s funny for an old guy.”
    I walked up behind her and plucked a movie out of the drawer. “You think he’s old?” I asked. From her perspective, I guess he kind of was. I held up Nottinghill . “Let’s watch this instead. Hugh Grant is really cute … for an old guy.”
    “Fine,” she said with a little annoyance. “But he’s like my grandpa’s age or something. You have any corn?” she asked as she placed the DVD in the machine.
    “You bet. I’ll make some.” I wandered into the kitchen and started digging through the cabinet for the box of greasy microwave popcorn.
    “Make two bags,” she hollered at me. “I’m eating for two, you know.”
    I shook my head and decided that she had been easier to deal with when she’d been in denial.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 5
     
     
    Adam
     
    Lizzie looked sullenly out the passenger side window as we made our way from the Financial District to the Upper East Side. She was quieter this morning than she had been last night. I wasn’t really sure what to do with her. I didn’t have much experience with moody teenage girls.
    I pulled up to a red light behind a line of cars and cabs, and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. I reached over and turned down the volume on the radio.
    “Hey, what are you thinking about over there?” I asked. “Are you worried about being dropped off at school in this old car?”
    She turned to look at me and then glanced all around the car. She brushed her hand across the black vinyl dash. “No way. This car is so cool.” Her hand dropped back in her lap, and she studied it for a second. “I’m just thinking about my mom. I’m worried about her. What’s going to happen when she comes home and I’m not there? She needs me.” I’d heard this story before. Hell, I’d lived it.
    The light turned green, and traffic began to move again. I drove through the intersection, but then pulled over to the curb at the first open spot. I put the car in park and turned in my seat to face her. “I don’t want to make you late to school because Allie would kill me, but I want to tell you a story.”
    “Okay,” she said. “Is it about a teenage girl who gets herself in trouble, and a mom who doesn’t care? Please tell me there’s a happy ending.”
    “No but close,” I said. “It’s about a teenage boy who got himself in trouble, and a mom who did care…just like yours does…but she was just too messed up to do anything about it. It does have a happy ending though, and yours will too.”
    Lizzie’s eyes went wide.
    “My childhood was a lot like yours,