Bianca's Joy: Rose Island Book 3

by Kristin Noel Fischer

  “It sounds great,” Joy said. “My dad and I love pizza.”

  “Perfect. What kind should I get?”

  “My favorite is pepperoni, sausage, and pineapple,” Joy said, not the least bit shy about voicing what she wanted.

  I grinned. “That’s my favorite, too. Daniel, what about you? Do you want a meat-lover’s pie?”

  He shook his head. “No, I like pepperoni, sausage, and pineapple.”

  Back downstairs, I chatted with everyone about my kitchen remodel. Those who’d been in my apartment asked if I was going to take down the wall.

  “What is it with everyone and the wall?” I asked. “I like the wall, so I’m not taking it down.”

  After seeing my last client, I ran across the street and picked up pizza, salad, and drinks. Climbing the stairs to my apartment, I imagined myself living an alternative life where Daniel was my husband and Joy our daughter. We’d be one of those single-kid families that traveled to Morocco or Fiji for summer vacation.

  Every night we’d eat dinner together, discussing literature, history, and other interesting topics. Even though we could afford a bigger and more expensive home, we’d choose to live in the little apartment above the salon because it was cozy and allowed us to save money for travel and other adventures. Of course, we’d have to move once the other babies came along.

  The thought of having children with Daniel made me sigh. Then, I thought of my own daughter. How would she fit into this scenario?

  Reaching the top of the stairs, I shook away the fantasy. Best to stay in the land of reality.

  Inside my apartment, I found Joy and Daniel cleaning up the day’s mess. The countertops were installed and absolutely beautiful. Already, my kitchen looked one hundred percent better.

  “Well, what do you think?” Joy asked, making a sweeping gesture with her arm across the kitchen.

  “I love it. The countertops look even better installed than they did in the living room.”

  “Good,” Daniel said.

  We exchanged a smile, and I asked if he was hungry.

  “I wasn’t until you brought the pizza. Now, I’m starving.”

  “Bianca,” Joy began, “my dad showed me the tile for your floor. I think it’s going to look really nice with the countertops, but what about painting the cabinets?”

  “Painting the cabinets?”

  She scrolled through her phone and showed me a picture of what she had in mind.

  “That’s beautiful,” I said, “but—”

  “I’d do it for another year of free haircuts,” Daniel said.

  “You would?”

  He smiled at me and nodded. “I think it’d look really nice, and Joy’s usually right about things like this.”

  I glanced around my kitchen, trying to imagine what it would look like when everything was complete. “Why don’t I just do a lifetime worth of free haircuts for both of you,” I said.

  “Yes,” Joy said. “That’s perfect. We accept.”

  Daniel chuckled. “Once again, I don’t think that’s how negotiations are supposed to work.”

  “Well, that’s my final offer. You guys have done so much work, and I know painting the cabinets will be a big chore. Plus, you still have the appliances, the flooring, and the backsplash.”

  Daniel shrugged. “It sounds like a lot, but it shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “And, don’t forget, you still have to teach me how to drive,” Joy added.

  “True, but I feel like I’m getting the better end of the deal.”

  “I don’t feel that way,” Daniel said.

  “Me neither,” Joy said.

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  With everything settled, we took the pizza and drinks onto the balcony. It wasn’t too cold tonight, but I turned on the heat lamp to take off the evening chill.

  Joy lifted her hands toward the heat. “That feels great.”

  “I love these heat lamps. I’m sure people in Minnesota or Canada think I’m crazy, but I don’t like to be cold.”

  “Me neither.” Joy opened her backpack to test her blood sugar. She had a stylish, leather backpack from Myabetic that carried all her supplies. “Go ahead and eat if you’re hungry. It will take a few minutes for my insulin to kick in.”

  I glanced at Daniel, not sure what to do. He shrugged. “I usually wait for her, but you don’t have to.”

  “No, I don’t mind,” I said.

  The three of us chatted until Joy’s insulin took effect, then we dug into the pizza. Just as we finished eating, Vicki came into my apartment and waved at us through the window. I beckoned for her to join us. After giving my kitchen a quick look, she came outside.

  “I love the countertops,” she said.

  I nodded. “Didn’t they turn out great?”

  “They really did. Here’s your mail.” Vicki plopped about a month’s worth of mail on the side table next to me.

  “Thanks.”

  “You might want to think about checking your mailbox once in a while,” she suggested.

  “Isn’t that what I have you for?” I teased. “Plus, what’s the point? Nothing good comes in the mail anymore.”

  Daniel nodded. “That’s true.”

  I smiled and turned to my sister. “You’re all dressed up. Do you have another date tonight?”

  She nodded and mentioned the name of a guy I’d never heard of. “He’s a lawyer I met at The Grand the other night.”

  Not bothering to keep the judgment out of my voice, I said, “You’re going out with a guy you met while on a date with a different guy?”

  “I told you, Seth and I are just friends, so it wasn’t a real date. But yes, I met Ambrose when Seth took me to The Grand.”

  “Poor Seth,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Seth is that cute firefighter with the dimples, right?” Joy asked.

  Daniel cleared his throat. “I think he’s a little old for you, honey.”

  Joy laughed. “Of course, he’s too old for me, Dad. He’s like twenty-eight.”

  “Thirty-one,” Vicki said, lifting her chin.

  “Wow, I didn’t know he was that old,” Joy said.

  Daniel caught my eye and winked. “Thirty-one is not that old.”

  “Exactly,” I said, thrilled by Daniel’s wink.

  “Anyway, I need to go.” Vicki glanced at Joy and Daniel. “It was nice seeing you two again.”

  “You, too,” they both said.

  With that, my little sister left, off to break another man’s heart.

  Glancing at the mail, I sighed. “I remember as a little kid thinking my mom was crazy for throwing out half the mail. Now, I do the same. I just wish for once I’d receive something good.”

  “Maybe this is your lucky day.” Joy smiled at her father. “Remember when I threw a fit because you refused to answer that letter from a lawyer claiming to represent a distant relative who’d left us an undisclosed fortune? You said it was a hoax, but I didn’t believe you.”

  Daniel chuckled. “He just needed three hundred dollars for his fees, then he could release the money.”

  I absently glanced at the pile of mail, noticing a hand-addressed envelope from Kansas. I didn’t know anyone from Kansas, did I?

  As though drawn by an invisible force, I picked up the letter and opened it. Inside, I found a folded piece of paper I somehow knew was the letter I’d been waiting for.

  Oh, why hadn’t I checked my mail earlier? Why had I just assumed my daughter would contact me via email?

  Joy said something, but I didn’t hear her. Instead, I stared down at the most incredible words I’d ever seen.

  Dear Bianca,

  My name is Claudia Cavenaugh, and I’m the child you gave up for adoption.

  Chapter 12

  Bianca

  My heart jolted, and my vision blurred as I tried to read more. I must’ve made a gasping noise because Joy asked if I was okay.

  Nodding, I pressed the letter to my chest. “My daughter’s nam
e is Claudia.”

  “What?” Joy said.

  I lowered the letter and did my best to speak over the lump in my throat. “This is from Claudia Cavenaugh. My daughter.”

  Daniel’s eyes widened as Joy gave a little squeal. “Oh, my gosh. What does it say?”

  “I don’t know. I’m too excited to read it.”

  “I’ll read it,” Joy offered, coming over to sit next to me.

  “Joy, honey. Let’s give Ms. Bianca a little space. Come back inside with me and—”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m shocked and scared and thrilled and—” I handed the letter to Joy. “Will you read it for me? Please?”

  “Of course.”

  “Is that okay?” I asked Daniel, remembering what he’d said about kids turning eighteen. Maybe he thought Joy was too young to be part of this conversation. Then again, she was a month older than my own daughter.

  “She can read the letter if that’s what you really want,” he said.

  “It is.”

  Joy smoothed out the letter on her jeans. With a deep breath, she began to read.

  Dear Bianca,

  My name is Claudia Cavenaugh, and I’m the child you gave up for adoption. Thank you for your letter, which I received on my birthday.

  I also want to thank you for giving me life. I can’t imagine having a baby at my age and giving her up for adoption. I’m sure that was really hard.

  I want you to know that you couldn’t have picked a more perfect family for me. My parents tried for a long time to have kids. They always say getting me was an answer to their prayers. They’ve been happily married for twenty-five years and have been the best parents ever.

  I have two little brothers my parents call miracle babies. Doctors don’t know why my mom got pregnant after so many years of infertility. She just did.

  My brothers’ names are Clark and Clay. Clark is seven, and Clay is six. They were born exactly one year apart to the hour. Although they’re very rowdy, I love them and would do anything for them.

  I’m a freshman in college, studying music and French. I play the violin and hope to study abroad in France my junior year. And no, I don’t know what I want to do with my life. My parents ask me this all the time.

  I usually say teach, but my passion is composing music. I love writing songs. It’s hard to earn a living as a songwriter, so I’ll probably have to teach to support myself.

  My boyfriend, Leland, is studying to become a filmmaker. He’s actually helping me with this letter.

  Leland and I found some pictures of you online. He says I have your smile, and I think he’s right.

  Last year, my dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer. He’d had it before, but this time, he had to have surgery and chemotherapy. It was terrifying, and we thought we might lose him.

  Even though I had a scholarship to study on the East Coast, I decided to stay in Kansas and live at home. I’m really glad I did because I was able to help my family during my dad’s treatment.

  I’m happy to tell you that my dad is completely better. He still gets tired, but every day he gets stronger.

  Anyway, the reason I’m telling you all this about my dad is because I’m not ready to meet you at this time. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but right now, I need to do what’s best for my family.

  I’m sure this is hard to hear, and I’m sorry. You seem like a very nice person, and I don’t want you to take my decision personally.

  From the pictures on your social media sites, I can tell that family is important to you. I hope you can understand how much my family means to me, too.

  I’ve enclosed a picture of me, and you can look at my social media sites, but please don’t friend or follow me right now. I haven’t told my parents about your letter because I don’t want to upset them.

  If you’d like to contact me, you can email me at ClaudiaCavenaughlovesFrance@yahoo.com.

  I’m sure that someday I’ll want to meet you. I’ve always been curious about my medical history.

  Thanks for understanding,

  Sincerely,

  Claudia Cavenaugh.

  Tears streamed down my face as Joy finished reading the letter. I was both happy and devastated. Happy because Claudia, my daughter, seemed happy. Happy because she had everything I’d ever wanted for her.

  And yet, I was devastated that she didn’t want to meet me.

  “Oh, Bianca.” Joy’s eyes filled with tears as she placed a hand on my arm. “I’m so sorry she doesn’t want to meet you.”

  “Thank you. Intellectually, I understand, but it hurts.” I reached for another napkin and blew my nose. “She said she sent a picture?”

  Joy reached into the envelope and handed me a small photograph. The sight of my daughter all grown up knocked the wind out of me.

  “She’s beautiful,” Joy said.

  I nodded. Claudia was gorgeous with thick blond hair, bright blue eyes, and high cheekbones. Wearing a shimmery silver formal gown, she stood in front of a lake, holding her violin. Her hair was pulled into a double-knot updo, and she wore dangly earrings, similar to a pair I owned.

  “She does have your smile,” Joy said, leaning over to look at the photo.

  “She has my smile, but not my body, thank goodness. Look at her. She’s as tiny as Vicki. And her hair is so blond.”

  “But it’s thick like yours,” Joy said.

  Daniel surprised me by coming over to sit beside me on the couch. I showed him the photo, and he smiled. “She has your little nose.”

  “My little nose?” I pressed a hand to my nose, feeling self-conscious. Nobody had ever commented on my nose before. Was something wrong with it?

  Smiling, he pulled down my hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s a nice nose.”

  “A nice nose?”

  “It’s cute, okay? You have a cute, little nose.”

  “I do?”

  “Dad,” Joy said, embarrassed. “Don’t be weird.”

  “Sorry.”

  Joy pulled her phone out of her back pocket and shook her head.

  I started to tell Daniel it was okay, but Joy’s next words stopped me. “She has a video on YouTube.”

  “What?” I said.

  Joy handed me her phone, and holding my breath, I watched in amazement as my daughter came to life, playing the most beautiful violin solo I’d ever heard.

  “She’s incredible,” Daniel said.

  I swiped at the tears streaming down my cheeks and nodded. My daughter truly was incredible.

  *

  After Joy and Daniel left that night, I drove up to the ranch to show my parents Claudia’s letter and video. My mother reacted with just as much excitement as I had, especially when she saw the video.

  “Oh, Bianca, look at her. She’s gorgeous. And the way she plays that thing . . . that violin . . .” My mother blinked back tears, then she turned up the volume and watched the video again.

  My dad, on the other hand, showed little emotion. In fact, his only concern was my daughter’s name. “Why do you think they named her Claudia?” he asked.

  “What?” I said, annoyed.

  “Claudia . . . I just . . .” He shook his head like Claudia was the worst name you could give a child.

  Biting the inside of my cheek to control my temper, I said nothing. Then, I turned back to the video and joined my mother in watching it again.

  Claudia’s parents could’ve named her Mud, and I wouldn’t care. She was incredible, and even though she didn’t want to meet me right now, I felt nothing but love and admiration for her.

  To: ClaudiaCavenaughlovesFrance@yahoo.com

  From: BiancaMorgan@TheLastTangle.com

  Subject: Hi!

  Dear Claudia,

  Thank you so much for writing to me! I received your letter tonight, and I was so excited, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to sleep.

  I want you to know that I understand why you don’t want to meet me right now. I’m sorry about your dad, but
I’m so glad to hear he’s doing better. That must’ve been such a scary time for you and your family.

  I also want you to know that you have an open invitation to visit me whenever you want. I have a guest room in my apartment where you can stay anytime. My family also has a little hobby ranch with lots of room for guests.

  Not to pressure you, but I think you’d love Rose Island. It’s so pretty here with the beach, the wild roses, and the ocean. You and your brothers would love the new zip line. It starts at the top of the mountain near the Rose Museum and goes all the way down to the beach with only a few stops in between.

  You said you’ve always been curious about your medical history. I’m happy to say there’s not much to report. For the most part, the Morgans are a healthy bunch. My nephew has dyslexia, my dad is stubborn, my mother often speaks without a filter, and I’m overweight. Other than that, I can’t think of any medical issues to tell you about.

  Joy, a girl from the Bible study I lead, found a video of you playing the violin. I’m not a huge crier, but the way you played was so beautiful, I bawled my eyes out. Did Leland film that?

  Well, I don’t want to overwhelm you with this letter, so I’ll say good-bye for now. If you have any questions for me, I’d be more than happy to answer them.

  Take care and write soon, if you want.

  Love,

  Bianca

  Chapter 13

  Daniel

  At breakfast the next morning, Joy chatted endlessly about Bianca’s daughter. “Do you think Claudia will change her mind about meeting Bianca? Do you think she’ll come to the island? Maybe Bianca will visit her in Kansas first.”

  Daniel stirred cream into his coffee. You need to tell her, a voice inside him whispered. Just stop being so weak and get it over with.

  “I was thinking I might email Claudia,” Joy said.

  Daniel stopped stirring his coffee. “Why?”

  “Well, I was thinking maybe it would help. Maybe I could get her to change her mind about meeting Bianca.”

  “Honey, I know your heart is in the right place, but I think you need to stay out of this.”

  Joy waved a dismissive hand. “I knew you were going to say that.”