Luella batted a hand through the air. “I said that one time, and he’s never forgiven me.”
Joy and Daniel laughed as Bianca came into the kitchen. “Well, hello, Serrano family. What are you doing here?”
“Bianca!” Joy stepped toward Bianca and gave her a hug. “We just bought your dad’s truck, and he invited us to stay for dinner.”
Bianca grinned. “That’s great.”
“Yes, we’re happy to have them,” Luella said, patting Joy’s arm. She suddenly frowned and patted Joy’s arm again. “What’s this?”
“It’s my insulin pump.” Joy lifted her sleeve to reveal the hard, square-shaped plastic container that Daniel had always thought resembled an oversized package of dental floss.
“Your insulin pump?” Luella said.
“She has type one diabetes,” Bianca explained, opening the silverware drawer.
The furrow between Luella’s brows deepened. “Diabetes? That can’t be right. You’re not fat.”
“Mom,” Bianca warned, mortified.
“It’s okay.” Joy smiled like it was no big deal. Daniel supposed his daughter was used to the ignorance surrounding her disease. “I have type one. You’re probably thinking about type two, which can be caused by poor eating and lack of exercise. Type one is different. I’ve had it since I was eight.”
“Oh,” the older woman said, clearly not understanding.
Bianca counted out several forks and set them on the counter. “Type one is an autoimmune disease, Mom. Joy’s pancreas doesn’t produce insulin. Weight has nothing to do with it.”
Daniel glanced at Bianca, impressed. Most people were clueless when it came to T1D—type one diabetes.
Luella pointed to Joy’s pump. “So that thing gives you insulin whenever you need it?”
“Not exactly. I have to test my blood sugar before I eat, then I enter that number into my device so my pump can send me the right amount of insulin, which is based on my numbers and what I’m going to eat.”
“I see.” Luella stared at Joy as if expecting her to combust at any moment.
“Come help me set the table,” Bianca said, breaking the tension by giving Joy a handful of knives. Bianca grabbed the forks, and the two of them went into the dining room.
Once they were out of earshot, Luella turned to Daniel. “She takes that insulin before every meal?”
He nodded.
“And before every snack, too?”
“Yes.”
Luella was quiet for a moment. “Daniel, what are the side effects of doing that?”
“The side effects?”
“Yes. Every medication has side effects. What are the side effects of taking insulin on a regular basis?”
For the first time since Joy’s diabetes was mentioned, Walter spoke. “Honey, I think the biggest side effect is not dying.”
“Walter!” Luella scolded.
The older man shot Daniel a look of apology. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”
“It’s okay. It’s true.”
Luella, who seemed flustered, shook her head. “It just seems so excessive to take insulin for every meal and every snack.”
Daniel offered what he hoped was a comforting smile. “I know it’s overwhelming, but Joy needs insulin to live. Without it, her body can’t process the nutrients it needs. Like she said, she was diagnosed when she was eight, so we’ve dealt with this for a long time. I’m not saying it’s easy, but it’s our normal.”
Walter snuck a bite of meat from the platter on the counter. “She seems pretty healthy.”
“She is,” Daniel agreed. “She does a good job managing everything.”
Luella glanced over her shoulder toward the dining room, then back at Daniel. “Will she always have diabetes?”
He sighed as Joy came back into the kitchen with Bianca. “Luella just asked if you’ll always have diabetes.”
His strong, beautiful, amazing daughter lifted her chin. “I hope not.”
The older woman’s face flooded with relief. “Oh, that’s wonderful. So, you might outgrow it?”
Joy shook her head. “No. Right now there’s no cure. We’re praying that one day there will be.”
“Oh.” Luella’s expression faltered. She stared at Joy. “You’re very brave, aren’t you?”
Joy shrugged. “I don’t know about that. It’s just how things are, you know?”
The kitchen door opened, and Keith entered, carrying the diaper bag and an empty car seat. His boys followed, each of them holding a covered dish.
“Don’t tell me your mother made sweet potato pie and mashed potatoes?” Luella said, peering down at the dishes in her grandsons’ hands. “I told her she didn’t have to do that.”
“I guess she wanted to,” the youngest boy said.
Keith greeted his in-laws and set down the diaper bag and empty car seat before shaking Daniel’s hand. “Hey, Daniel. Did you buy the truck?”
“I did. Thanks for telling me about it.” Daniel knew Keith from church as well as the men’s Bible study they attended on Tuesday mornings. Joy said hi to the boys whom she knew from school as well as youth group.
Minutes later, Jillian entered, holding a sleeping baby. “Sorry we’re late. The baby was fussy, and we couldn’t find the car keys.”
“And Mom couldn’t figure out what to wear,” the youngest boy said.
“Drew,” Jillian scolded.
“Well, it’s true.”
“Sometimes the truth is best left unsaid,” Keith said, tousling his son’s hair.
Was it? Daniel wished he could believe that, then he wouldn’t feel so guilty about keeping his secret from Joy. He’d given up on the idea of writing a letter. Now, he was determined to just tell her once things settled down.
Vicki arrived next, and Luella wasted no time in enlisting everyone’s help in carrying the food to the table. Joy quietly stepped into the living room to test her blood sugar before joining everyone in the dining room. Once they were all seated, Walter said a blessing, and they dug into the meal.
Daniel had to admit it was a little overwhelming passing food, answering questions, and hearing everyone talk at once. Usually, his meals with Joy were sedate. Dinner with the Morgan family couldn’t have been more different.
Luella asked if Daniel had any siblings. “My sister and her husband live in Spain. He works in shipping, and she stays home with their three kids.”
“Our cousins went to Spain for spring break,” Drew said. “They live in Germany.”
Drew’s words sparked a lively conversation about the Petersons and when they were planning on coming back to Rose Island. Daniel had heard all about the whirlwind love story between Nick and Anna.
Jillian and Keith’s baby, who’d been sleeping in her car seat during the meal, woke up howling. For such a little thing, she had an incredibly strong pair of lungs.
Sighing, Jillian pushed away from the table and scooped up the baby. “I’m going to see if I can nurse her back to sleep.”
“Anything I can do to help?” Luella asked.
“No.” Jillian sounded stressed out as she left the dining room.
Keith waited a beat before announcing he was going to check on his wife and baby.
*
After dinner, Vicki, Luella, and Walter bundled up the baby and went for a walk while everyone else did the dishes. Jillian said that Joy and Daniel were guests and didn’t need to help, but they insisted.
“You don’t need to help, either,” Keith told his wife as she stood at the sink, rinsing dishes. “You didn’t sleep well last night, so why don’t you go upstairs and lie down.”
“I’m fine.” Jillian reached for another plate.
“You’re not fine.” Keith turned off the faucet. “Go upstairs and take a break. Your parents have the baby, and we’ve got the dishes, right, boys?”
“Yeah,” Matt said, taking his mother’s place at the sink.
Jillian, who obviously didn’t like being told what
to do, snapped. “I don’t want to take a break, Keith.”
Daniel took that as his cue to leave the kitchen. In the dining room, he found Joy and Bianca looking at the large family portrait hanging above the buffet.
“Are you the little girl with the French braids?” Joy asked.
Bianca nodded. “That photo was taken on the day we began construction on this house.”
“You all look so happy,” Joy said.
“We were happy. It was a great day.”
Daniel began stacking plates to clear the table. “You haven’t always lived here?”
“No.” Bianca picked up a few serving bowls. “We used to live on the beach in a little turquoise cottage called The Blue Crab. My parents wanted more land, so we moved up here and kept the beach house as a rental property.”
Daniel nodded and followed Bianca and Joy into the kitchen with his stack of plates. Right away, he noticed the absence of both Keith and Jillian. They must’ve moved their argument elsewhere.
“Want to help dry the pots and pans?” Drew asked, tossing a towel to Joy.
Because her hands were full, Joy caught the towel with her mouth and nodded. Everyone laughed, then Bianca and Daniel returned to the dining room to clear the rest of the table.
Daniel gestured back at the family portrait. “I never could figure out how to braid Joy’s hair like that when she was little. I was an expert with pigtails, but French braids were beyond me.”
“At least you tried. If my dad was put in charge of our hair, I’m pretty sure he would’ve taken us to the barbershop for crew cuts.”
Daniel smiled. “I don’t know, your father seems pretty talented. I’m amazed by how many projects he has going on in the barn.”
A disheartened expression crossed Bianca’s face. “He likes his projects, that’s for sure. But seriously, Daniel, you’re a good dad.”
Guilt crushed down on him. Was he a good dad? Wouldn’t a good dad stop stalling and talk to his daughter about everything?
“You don’t think you’re a good dad?” Bianca said.
“No, I mean, thank you.” Was it possible to make this exchange any more awkward? “Joy’s an easy kid, so raising her has been . . .”
“Joyful?”
Daniel looked at Bianca and smiled. “Yes. Raising her has been joyful.”
“I’m sorry about my mom’s comments regarding Joy’s diabetes.”
Daniel shrugged. “She’s just concerned. I get that. Most people don’t know the difference between type one and type two. I’m impressed by your understanding of it.”
“Well, diabetes is a huge part of Joy’s life, so I educated myself. I want to be supportive.”
“You are.”
Looking up from underneath long eyelashes, Bianca smiled. “Thank you, Daniel.”
The way she looked at him and said his name tugged at his chest. Despite Bianca’s love of sarcasm, she exuded a sense of warmth and comfort he craved.
“What?” she asked, staring at him.
Shaking his head, he turned away. “I guess we better get these dishes cleared.”
Daniel thought he heard a hint of disappointment as Bianca said, “I guess so.”
Chapter 11
Bianca
The next morning, Daniel came to the salon. “Can I speak to you in private?” he asked.
The seriousness in his voice concerned me. “Sure. Is everything okay?”
He nodded but didn’t give any indication what this was about. Upstairs in my living room, he shifted from one foot to the other. “Your dad called me this morning.”
“He did?”
“Yes. He wanted to know if I was interested in helping him install your countertops.”
“Oh. What did you say?”
He shrugged. “I told him the truth. I told him I was planning on renovating your entire kitchen in exchange for you teaching Joy how to drive. I hope that was okay I told him. He seemed surprised by our deal. I didn’t mean to cause problems if—”
“No, it’s fine.”
What in the world had inspired my dad to think about installing my countertops? While we’d been cordial to each other last night, it wasn’t as if we’d had one of those love and forgiveness conversations.
“Okay.” Daniel nodded. “I just wanted to double-check before I got started.”
“Thank you.” I pushed out a deep breath. “My dad and I are having a difference of opinion right now. I didn’t mean to drag you into it. At the end of the day it’s going to be fine, so please don’t worry about it. I made a deal with you, and I want to keep my end of the bargain.”
“Good.” He smiled. “That’s really good. I tried driving with Joy again last night, and let’s just say it didn’t go well. So, I’m relieved you’re still interested in our deal.”
“Of course. I’m looking forward to helping her.”
“Good.”
With that settled, we turned to leave the apartment. At the fireplace, Daniel paused and stared at the framed picture of my daughter and me. When he didn’t say anything, I felt the need to tell him my whole life story.
“This is my daughter,” I said, picking up the picture and handing it to him. “I don’t know if Joy told you, but I had her my senior year of high school and gave her up for adoption. I’m hoping to meet her again sometime soon.”
He nodded and returned the picture to the mantle. “Joy told me.”
“Well, that’s why things have been tense between my father and me. He disapproves of my decision to contact her.”
Daniel stared at me blankly, clearly uncomfortable that I was divulging such personal information. Yet, I couldn’t stop myself from explaining. “He thinks I’m making a huge mistake, but I’m not changing my mind. This child is my own flesh and blood, and I need to meet her.”
Something flashed across Daniel’s face as though he wanted to say something.
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Tell me. You obviously have something on your mind, so tell me what you’re thinking.”
“It’s really not my place.”
“Do you agree with my father? Is that it?”
“Well . . . I . . .”
“Do you think it’s a mistake for me to meet my daughter?”
Daniel’s eyes darted around the room, probably looking for the escape hatch. “It’s really not my place to say, Bianca. I don’t know your situation or—”
“I’d like to know your opinion. You have a daughter about the same age as mine. If Joy was adopted, would you want her to meet her birth mom?”
Daniel shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know.”
“That means no.” I had no idea why I was being so combative. I guess I just wanted him to take my side.
Daniel stroked his beard. “It’s just that people have this idea that once a kid turns eighteen, that’s it. They’re legally an adult, so they can go out into the world and make their own decisions. Maybe some kids are like that, but it seems to me that most of them still have a lot of growing up to do. They still need their parents’ guidance. I guess . . . I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“You’re saying you think I’m making a big mistake by contacting my daughter.”
“I’m saying I don’t know.”
*
Saturday morning, Joy and Daniel arrived to begin my kitchen project. Given the uncomfortable conversation I’d had with Daniel yesterday, I was nervous about seeing him again. Fortunately, he seemed fine and completely focused on the logistics of renovating my kitchen.
“So, you’re helping your dad today?” I asked Joy.
She nodded. “I usually work for Mrs. Maisel on Saturdays, but she closed the shop today because her son is getting married. Plus, my dad said I had to help, since I’m the one benefiting from the driving lessons.”
I smiled at Daniel, relieved when he smiled back. Part of me wanted to apologize for being so disagreeable yesterday. I supposed I was just
being overly sensitive.
“Well, I better get to work,” I said. “I’ll be downstairs in the salon. If you need anything, shoot me a text or come down and get me.”
Daniel nodded, but Joy asked about the wall separating the kitchen from the living room. “My dad said you don’t want us to knock it down. Are you sure? I think opening the view would be really nice.”
“Joy,” Daniel warned.
“What? I’m just asking.”
“I know, but Bianca already said no.”
I reached for my water bottle. “It’s okay. It never hurts to ask, but yes, I’m sure I don’t want the wall knocked down.”
“Okay,” she conceded. “If you change your mind, we can knock it down later.”
“That’s what your dad said, and I appreciate that. But I’m not going to change my mind.”
Grabbing my phone, I said good-bye and headed out into the hallway. To my surprise, Daniel followed me.
“Do you have a second?” he asked, pulling the door closed.
“Sure.”
“I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. I shouldn’t have said anything about your daughter. I think if you want to meet her, you should.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m the one who should apologize to you. I know I can be a little hard.”
He shook his head. “I’d never describe you like that.”
“No?”
“No.”
A moment of awkward silence fell between us. Then, Daniel excused himself and went back inside the apartment, leaving me to wonder what that was all about.
*
As I worked in the salon that morning, I listened to Daniel and Joy moving around upstairs. At lunch, I ran up to check on their progress and was pleased to see they’d already ripped out the old countertops and had installed the largest slab of granite.
“This is amazing,” I said, running a hand over my new counter. “I love it. Can I bring you something to eat for lunch?”
Daniel gestured to their ice chest. “Thank you, but we brought our own food.”
“Then I’ll bring you an early dinner. I insist. How does pizza sound?”
Bianca's Joy: Rose Island Book 3 Page 6