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Bianca's Joy: Rose Island Book 3 Page 4
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“I hope so.” She looked at me and smiled as the car slowly veered off the road onto the shoulder.
“Joy! Eyes on the road.”
She jerked the steering wheel hard. “Sorry. Maybe you should drive now.”
Are you kidding me? Of course, I should drive now.
“No, honey. You’re doing fine. You’ve got this. Just concentrate, okay?”
“Okay.” Driving at least ten miles under the speed limit, she managed to stay on the road. Every so often a car would zoom past us, causing her to suck in a sharp breath and tightly grip the steering wheel.
Near the cemetery where my brother was buried, Joy took a left into an older neighborhood. The big palm trees lining the street were impressive, and we passed the cutest neighborhood park. While the homes here had been built years ago, most of them had been renovated with fresh paint and new landscaping.
“This is me,” she said, stopping in front of a darling bungalow with dark blue paint, white trim, and a yellow door.
“This is your house? It’s so cute.”
“Thanks. You should’ve seen it when we first bought it. It was a complete dump.”
“Well, it’s adorable now.”
Joy put the car in park. “We just refinished the hardwood floors. It looks really nice now.”
“You said we. Did you help your dad with the work?”
“A little bit. I’m mostly the idea person, but my dad makes me help with some of the work. He wants me to understand what I’ll be asking once I become an interior designer.”
“That’s a good idea.”
She nodded. “I’ve learned a lot working for Mrs. Maisel, but my dad has taught me a lot, too.”
Speaking of her hunky father, the front door opened, and my heart lifted as Daniel stepped onto the porch. Feeling self-conscious, I smoothed back my hair before climbing out of the car.
“Hi,” I said, my voice making a strange squeaking noise.
Daniel offered an amused grin as he came toward me. “Hi, Bianca. Thanks for bringing her home.”
“I drove,” Joy said, joining us on the walkway.
“I saw that. How’d you do?”
“Horrible.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “You did great, and you’ll get better each time you practice. I’m just so proud of you for working toward getting your license.”
“Thanks, Bianca.” She gave me a hug, then quickly said good-bye when her phone rang. “Sorry, it’s Kayla. We have a math test tomorrow. Thanks for bringing me home.”
“You’re welcome, honey.”
Answering the phone, Joy ran into the house, leaving me alone with her father. Turning to me, he smiled in a way that nearly made my insides come undone. “So, how’d she really do driving?”
I shrugged. “She could use a little more practice.”
He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Yeah, I bet.”
I smiled as a warm, tingly feeling danced through me. “I told her I’d love to help her learn how to drive. I’m free most nights.”
“Oh, that’s generous of you, but it’s too much.”
“I don’t mind.” I shifted my weight off my bad toe.
Daniel frowned. “Are you injured? I noticed you were limping when you got out of the car.”
“I just stubbed my toe on my countertops again.”
He rubbed his beard and studied me carefully. “How’d you manage to stub your toe on your countertops? Karate practice or something?”
“No.” I laughed and told him the saga about my contractor disappearing.
“You paid him before he finished your job?”
“I know. Everyone tells me I shouldn’t have done that, but I was trying to be charitable. You know, feed the hungry, give shelter to the homeless, help your contractor pay off his hardware bill before he starts your project.”
Daniel smirked. “I’ve done something like that before.”
“You have?”
He nodded. “You want to believe people are good and they’ll do the right thing. For the most part they do, but sometimes you get burned.”
I nodded, thinking this man was my soul mate. One day, we’d tell our children, Yes, darlings, Mommy and Daddy fell in love because of a silly financial mistake Mommy made.
“So, do you think he’ll come back?” Daniel asked.
“I don’t think so. It’s been a month, and I’ve kind of given up hope. He seemed honest, and I want to believe he’ll eventually come back, but there’s only so much pain my toe can take.”
He smiled and started to say something, but the sight of a Lexus pulling into the driveway interrupted him. Just my luck, it was my archenemy, Kate Tate.
Kate parked and stepped out of the car. “Daniel,” she said in a sultry voice. “I brought you and Joy dessert. It’s a flourless chocolate cake that everyone raves about.”
“It looks amazing,” Daniel said. “Thanks, Kate.”
“You’re welcome. If you’re free, I thought we could share a piece and talk about the ideas I have for the church playground.”
“Sure, that’d be great.”
As if noticing me for the first time, Kate threw a cursory glance my way. “Bianca, I heard about your birth daughter. Goodness, you’re full of surprises.”
The disdainful way she spoke took me right back to the first day of middle school when I’d apparently made a huge fashion mistake by wearing shorts in August. Kate, who’d worn stylish jeans and a sweater in the middle of a heat wave, had looked at my bare legs, horrified. Well, aren’t you courageous, Bianca, choosing shorts for the first day of school.
“I need to go,” I announced, remembering my New Year’s resolution to be more kind, especially to people I didn’t particularly like.
“Why don’t you stay for dessert,” Daniel suggested. “I’m sure we could use your input on the playground.”
Although he sounded sincere, I knew he was just being polite. Obviously, he was far more interested in Kate than he was in me.
I mean, why wouldn’t he be? Kate looked like a supermodel, while I resembled . . . well, I didn’t know what I resembled, but it definitely wasn’t a supermodel or any other kind of model for that matter.
“Thank you, Daniel, but I actually have an early morning, so I should go. Thanks for letting Joy come to Bible study.”
“Thanks for having her,” he said.
I forced a smile at Kate and said good-bye. Then, I climbed into my car and drove away.
Ugh. I was such a fool. Of course, a guy like Daniel Serrano wasn’t interested in me. Had I honestly thought he could see through my layers of fat to realize I’d make a great girlfriend?
Facing facts, I drove home, trying not to feel sorry for myself. It was only as I climbed the stairs to my apartment that I remembered I’d forgotten the cream for my coffee.
Chapter 6
Daniel
Wednesday afternoon, Daniel sat at the kitchen table, staring at his computer screen. Once again, he reread the letter he’d been trying to write to his daughter for the past two months. With a frustrated sigh, he deleted the page and tried again.
Dear Joy,
There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you. Something that’s hard for me to say, so I thought I’d write you this letter.
I want you to know that I never could’ve asked for a better daughter. You’ve been the light of my life, and I’m so proud of you.
When your mother died—
“Dad,” Joy called, opening the front door, “I’m home.”
Daniel jumped in his seat and closed his computer. Standing, he slipped his laptop into the backpack he used for work.
“Dad?”
“In the kitchen, honey.” Despite trying to sound like everything was fine, his voice was tight with guilt and fear. Keeping this secret was beginning to take its toll.
“Something smells good.” Joy entered the kitchen and opened the oven. “Chile rellenos, my favorite. Are they ready?”
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br /> Peering past her into the oven, Daniel nodded. “I think so.” He grabbed the potholder from the hook and removed the casserole dish. “I just need to make the salad, then we can eat as soon as you’re ready.”
“Great.” Joy washed her hands at the sink.
“How’d school and work go today?” Daniel asked, opening the refrigerator to collect the ingredients for the salad.
“Okay.”
“Just okay?”
With a deep sigh, she sat at the table to test her blood sugar. As a type one diabetic, testing her blood sugar and taking insulin before every meal was a normal part of her life. Without careful regulation, her blood sugar could become too high, causing serious damage to her health.
“School was fine, but after work today, Mrs. Maisel suggested I drive her home.”
“That was nice of her.”
Joy inserted a testing strip into her glucometer. “Yes, but she made me pull over after one block and let her drive. Apparently, she values her life too much to put it in danger with my driving.”
“Is that what she said?”
“Pretty much.”
Daniel winced. “Ouch.”
“Yeah.” Joy lanced her finger and put a drop of blood on the testing strip. “She was nice about it, but she doesn’t see how I’m going to be able to get my license in time.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” Daniel’s heart ached for his daughter. The fact that she was even trying to get her license was a huge step. She’d gotten her permit when she’d turned fifteen like the rest of her classmates, but full-blown panic attacks had prevented her from learning how to drive.
“You’ll get there,” he said, wanting it to be true. He’d taken her driving the other night, but it hadn’t ended well. Although he considered himself a calm person, he’d snapped when she’d driven through a red light, nearly killing them both. She’d started crying, then said she didn’t want to drive with him anymore.
While he understood, he couldn’t figure out why teaching her how to drive was so difficult. He’d taught her how to do math problems in her head, manage her diabetes, and do a number of other tasks. Why couldn’t he teach her how to drive?
He’d been surprised, shocked actually, that Joy had driven with Bianca from one end of the island to the other. Bianca was obviously far more patient than him or Mrs. Maisel.
Then again, Bianca was one of a kind. Not only was she beautiful, but Daniel found her smart, funny, and easy to talk to.
He also loved the sound of her laughter, and when she smiled at him . . . well, Bianca Morgan had one of those smiles that just made you happy, just made you feel that everything was going to be okay.
He’d wanted to ask her out when he first moved to the island with Joy four years ago. He hadn’t known anyone, and Bianca had made it her mission to introduce Joy and him to everyone at church. She’d even been sweet enough to invite them out to her family’s ranch for a barbecue.
Then, Joy had started attending Bianca’s Monday evening Bible study, something that quickly became a highlight for Joy. Before he knew it, his daughter had found something in Bianca that Daniel couldn’t give her—a mother.
After that, he feared starting a relationship with Bianca would complicate things for Joy, something he definitely didn’t want to do. So, he’d put Bianca in the category of just friends where she would probably remain forever.
“How are your numbers?” he asked, slicing a red pepper for the salad.
Joy looked up from the device which held the results of her blood sugar test. “They’re good.”
“Good.” He didn’t ask for specifics, knowing she couldn’t stand it when he hovered. If he wanted, he could use the app on his phone to follow up, but Joy was a responsible kid, plenty capable of figuring out how much insulin to tell her pump to release. She’d been dealing with her diabetes for ten years after all.
That didn’t mean he didn’t worry about her. No, he worried about her all the time. She was the most important person in his life, and everything he did was for her health and happiness.
“Listen, honey. How about I take you driving tonight after dinner?”
She groaned. “I think I’ll just have Bianca teach me. She said she didn’t mind.”
Daniel tossed the salad. “She told me the same thing, but I think it’s too much.”
“What if I paid her? I’ve got money in savings from my job.”
Wincing, Daniel pulled down two plates from the cupboard. He didn’t want Joy spending her hard-earned money on driving lessons. Besides, he didn’t think Bianca would accept payment for something like that.
As he opened the drawer for the silverware, he was struck by an idea. What if he made a deal with Bianca that would give them both something they wanted? Would she be interested? If she was, that would certainly make things easier.
Maybe then, after solving his daughter’s driving issues, he could figure out a way to tell her the secret that weighed so heavily on his heart . . . the secret that Joy deserved to know regardless of its implications.
Chapter 7
Bianca
After working in the salon all day, I was worn out. It’d been one of those crazy busy days where I barely had time to eat lunch or use the bathroom. I often binged on days like these, mindlessly shoving food down my throat between clients. Then, I’d eat my dinner in front of the TV, wondering why I felt so full.
Tonight, however, I had a counseling session with Yadira. I’d started seeing the eating disorder therapist last year. So far, I’d only lost one pound, but I supposed that was better than gaining a pound.
As I sat in Yadira’s office, I told her about waiting to hear from my daughter. I’d actually told Yadira about the baby several months ago. I hadn’t meant to, but the story came tumbling out one rainy evening when I was feeling particularly vulnerable.
“It sounds like Anna and your sisters took the news well,” Yadira said. “I know you were worried they might be upset you’d kept your daughter a secret for so long.”
I took a sip of my water. “Both Jillian and Vicki have been great. When I talked to Anna on the phone, she was really excited for me.”
“I’m excited for you as well,” Yadira said.
“Thank you.” We talked about how my anxiety over waiting to hear from my daughter affected my eating. Then, I told Yadira about my conversation with Daniel the other night. “I thought things were going well, but once Kate arrived . . . well, she just makes me feel so bad about myself, you know?”
Yadira gave a nonjudgmental nod. She’d heard me talk about Kate and other people that made me feel bad about myself. “So, sometimes when you have a conflict with others, it leads to a binge. How’d it go this time?”
“I didn’t binge,” I said, smiling. “I thought about it, but I didn’t. I just crawled into bed, read my book, and went to sleep.”
“Why do you think you were able to maintain control? What made a difference this time?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I was too tired or maybe it was the fact that the sweets were all the way downstairs. I did write in my journal, but it wasn’t like I reached any profound conclusions.”
“No?”
I shook my head. “Honestly, isn’t that the million-dollar question? I mean, why can I refrain from binging sometimes and other times there doesn’t seem to be any end in sight?”
“Well, that’s what we’re trying to figure out. That’s why you’re here. All I can say is it’s different for each person. Let’s talk about Kate.”
“I’d rather not.”
Yadira smiled. “What is it about Kate that makes you want to eat?”
I shrugged. “I guess she just makes me feel bad about myself. I’ve known her since the sixth grade, and she’s never liked me. I get it. Kate’s one of those people that just doesn’t like fat people.”
Yadira pressed her lips together. She’d heard all about my theory of certain people automatically judging me because of my weight.
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nbsp; I knew it was true because for a brief period I’d been thin and had experienced special treatment. My skinny days had happened after the baby. Without even trying, I’d lost a ton of weight. At first, I thought the birthing process had shut down my appetite. Looking back, I realized I was probably clinically depressed.
Whatever the reason, I started college in the fall at the perfect size. I’d always had lots of friends because I made the effort to be outgoing, but at college, I didn’t even have to try. Good-looking people went out of their way to talk to me and invite me to all sorts of events. Guys actually paid attention to me.
During our dorm’s water balloon fight, I’d met Zach, an engineering major who loved comic books. Zach was a good guy who played the keyboards at church. We hit it off right away, spending every hour together.
As a result, my depression vanished and my appetite returned. Although I tried to limit my portions, my jeans became tighter and tighter. I tried reducing my calories, but that just made me cranky, resulting in late-night binges. Then, I’d wake the next morning, vowing to stick to an impossible diet of carrot sticks and skinless chicken breasts.
I found myself in a vicious cycle of dieting and binging. While I couldn’t blame our breakup entirely on my issues with food, it definitely played a role.
Yadira slipped her right skinny leg over her left. “People judge others all the time. It’s our human nature regardless of how much we try not to. But I believe after spending time with people that initial judgment becomes less important.”
“I agree.”
“And in some ways, you’ve judged Daniel Serrano based on his outward appearance.”
“What do you mean?”
“You think he’s cute, therefore, you think he’s a good person.”
“Well, he is cute, and he is a good person.”
Yadira smiled. “I guess my point is you can’t change other people. All you can do is change yourself, which is why you come see me each week.”
“But you think I should change how I feel about Kate. You think I shouldn’t worry about how she treats me.”