Bianca's Joy: Rose Island Book 3

by Kristin Noel Fischer

  I looked into his eyes, which were marred with concern. Beside him knelt Joy, her face even whiter than before. “Bianca.”

  “Hey.” Glancing around the room, I tried to remember what happened. “Why am I on the floor?”

  “You passed out,” Daniel said. “Are you okay?”

  I blinked. “I think so. I feel a little sick to my stomach, and my knee hurts.”

  He nodded. “You hit your knee when you fell. Can you move it?”

  I tried to do so, but the pain made me wince. “Ouch.”

  Daniel placed his good hand on my shoulder, something that helped ease my suffering more than a thousand Advil could ever do.

  “Is her knee broken?” Joy asked.

  Daniel shook his head. “I don’t think so. Why don’t you get Bianca a bottle of water from the ice chest?”

  “Okay.” She stood and did as he suggested.

  Daniel turned his attention back to me. “Have you ever passed out before?”

  “Once, when Drew crashed his bike into the garage door. And when Jillian had the baby, but don’t tell anyone about that.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I don’t like the sight of blood.”

  He grinned. “I kind of figured that.”

  Joy brought me the water, and Daniel helped me sit up to drink it. I purposely kept my gaze away from his injured hand and the bloody dishtowel covering it.

  “How do you feel?” he asked, watching me intently.

  “I’m okay.”

  He nodded. “I don’t think you broke anything, but you should probably see a doctor.”

  “You both need to see a doctor,” Joy said, sounding way more worried than she needed to be. I hadn’t thought she’d be the kind of person to overreact in a situation like this.

  Then again, I’d just fainted in my kitchen at the sight of a little blood. You couldn’t exactly achieve a bigger reaction than that.

  “Joy’s probably right,” Daniel conceded. “Do you think you can stand if I help you?”

  I shook my head, not because I wasn’t ready to get off the floor, but because I was afraid helping me stand would make Daniel realize how much I weighed. “It’s okay. I can get up on my own.”

  “Let me help you.” Before I could protest, Daniel placed his strong arm underneath mine and lifted me to my feet as if I weighed nothing at all. Still holding on to me, he asked, “How do you feel?”

  With your arm against mine? Amazing.

  “My knee hurts,” I said.

  “What about your head? Do you feel dizzy, like you might pass out again?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Do you think you can walk downstairs? If not, I can carry you.”

  I suddenly had a horrible vision of Daniel lifting me into his arms, then swaying because of my girth, before finally smashing to the ground. The headline would read, “Innocent Father Crushed To Death By Overweight Hairdresser.”

  Determined to avoid such a scenario, I managed to push through the pain and limp down to the parking lot. Because of her father’s injury, Joy insisted on driving.

  “The clinic’s not that far,” Daniel said. “I can drive.”

  Joy narrowed her eyes and stashed her backpack behind the seat. “You’re not driving. I am. Now, scoot over.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Daniel slid across the seat to sit between Joy and me. “Are you okay going to the Urgent Care instead of the hospital?”

  I nodded, and Joy headed out of the parking lot. While the trip was a little rough with Joy almost hitting a delivery truck, we made it in one piece. At the clinic, we went our separate ways with me seeing a doctor who determined that my knee had been badly bruised but wasn’t broken.

  Because my blood pressure and other vitals were normal, the doctor gave me a pair of crutches and sent me on my way with instructions to take it easy and continue icing it to reduce the swelling. In the waiting room, I found Joy reading a paperback by Karen Kingsbury.

  “Great author, great book,” I said.

  She closed the book and set it on the coffee table. “I just found it here in the waiting room, but I’m going to buy the digital copy so I can read it on my phone. It’s really good.”

  I nodded. “All her books are good. Have you heard from your dad?”

  “They’re stitching up his hand now. He should be done soon.”

  “You didn’t want to stay and watch?”

  “No. I’ve never passed out at the sight of blood, but being around doctors isn’t exactly my favorite thing.”

  “I imagine not. I’m sure you’ve seen your share of doctors and hospitals.”

  “I have.”

  I studied her carefully, suddenly worried about her. “Do you need to eat something? It feels like we’ve been here forever.”

  “I’m okay. I tested my blood sugar and had a snack from my backpack.”

  I resisted the urge to ask if that was enough. I didn’t want to smother her, but still, I couldn’t help but worry.

  As if sensing my concern, she smiled at me. “I’m fine, Bianca. Seriously.”

  “Okay,” I said, sarcastically. “Sorry for being such a kind and caring person. Sorry for worrying about your health and wellness.”

  She rolled her eyes, then gently nudged me with her elbow. I laughed, hoping things would be this easy with my own daughter if I ever got to meet her.

  “You probably already know this,” Joy said, “but this building used to be a grocery store.”

  “That’s right.” I looked at her, surprised. “How’d you know that?”

  “My parents brought me here. There was this brown horse out front—you know, one of those plastic mechanical kinds for little kids. My dad had a ziplock bag full of coins, and he let me ride until I got bored.”

  I studied Joy carefully, surprised she’d been on the island with her parents back when the Urgent Care was a grocery store. “I had no idea you visited the island when you were little. How old were you?”

  “Seven. I have really good memories of that vacation. We were here for the Fourth of July, so there was this huge parade and fireworks at night.”

  “I wonder if I saw you? I’ve never missed a Fourth of July on the island.”

  “Wouldn’t that be crazy?”

  “It would.” I smiled at Joy, imagining she’d been such a cute kid. “You know, they actually moved that horse you’re talking about to the Rose Museum.”

  “Really? My dad and I will have to go see it.”

  “You haven’t been up to the museum yet?”

  “No. My dad said I almost fell off the cliffs when I was little, so he’s kind of freaked out about going up there again.”

  “Well, you can tell him there’s a stone wall around the viewing area now, so he won’t have to worry about you.”

  “He’d still worry about me. That’s what he does.”

  At that moment, Daniel came into the waiting room, his hand bandaged. He gestured at my crutches. “What’d they say about your knee?”

  “Bruised but not broken. It should be better in a few days. What about your hand?”

  “A couple stitches, so basically the same.”

  “That’s not the same,” I said, smiling.

  “Well, what I mean is, the stitches will dissolve in a few days, so completing your project won’t be a problem.”

  I waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve waited this long for my new kitchen. A few more days isn’t going to be the end of the world.”

  He gave a curt nod. “All the same, I intend to uphold my end of the bargain.”

  “I do, too,” I said, appreciating the fact that Daniel was a man of his word.

  To: ClaudiaCavenaughlovesFrance@yahoo.com

  From: JoySerrano@gmail.com

  Subject: Bianca Morgan

  Hi, Claudia!

  You don’t know me, but my name is Joy Serrano. Bianca is my Bible study leader, my driving instructor, and my friend. I was with her the night she received y
our letter, so that’s how I got your email address.

  I just wanted to reach out and tell you how happy Bianca was to hear from you. She’s always wanted to meet you and find out how you turned out. It sounds like things are going well for you. I’m glad your dad is better.

  Your brothers sound really cute. I’m an only child, but I always wanted brothers and sisters.

  Anyway, Bianca and I watched a video of you playing the violin. Wow! You’re so talented. I wish I was musical like that. I sing in the choir at church, but I’m not very good. Sometimes, Mr. Brown, the choir director, tells me not to sing so loudly. Seriously, I’m that bad. My dad’s offered to pay for singing lessons, but being in the choir is something I want to do for fun.

  Okay, enough about me. I just wanted to say “hi” and tell you I understand why you don’t want to meet Bianca right now. I’m sure it’s scary for you to think about meeting your birth mom given what your family has been through. I admire you for wanting to protect them.

  I also want to tell you that Bianca is the best. My own mother died when I was nine, and Bianca has been like a mother to me. I honestly don’t know anyone more kind, sweet, patient, and fun as Bianca. She’s hilarious, too. She’s always making sarcastic comments and cracking jokes.

  Anyway, I just thought you might like to hear from someone your own age that Bianca is a great person. I’m not trying to change your mind . . . okay, maybe I am, just because I know how much Bianca would love to meet you. But seriously, she really is wonderful.

  I hope you don’t mind me emailing you. Bianca doesn’t know I’m sending this, so please don’t think she put me up to it. She totally respects your decision not to meet her, even if she wishes you didn’t feel that way.

  Like I said, she’s a great person. Hopefully, one day, you can see for yourself.

  Well, have a great day!

  Sincerely,

  Joy Serrano

  Chapter 15

  Bianca

  In the morning, my knee hurt worse than it had the night before. Following the doctor’s instructions, I iced it and took ibuprofen. Needless to say, I didn’t go for my bike ride, something I deeply missed. Instead, I took my Bible and coffee onto my covered balcony.

  Having quiet time for prayer and scripture reading was important to me, but I often neglected it for the simple fact that I could be lazy. Sometimes, it was just easier to fill my time with social media or email. These days especially, I checked my email every chance I got, hoping to hear back from Claudia.

  Recently, I’d read a book called Bored and Brilliant by Manoush Zomorodi. Manoush believed the increase of technology and the convenience of smartphones hindered us. Instead of being creators, we’d become consumers, something that wasn’t good for us long-term.

  As if to prove her point, my phone dinged with a text from the pizza restaurant, asking me to fill out a survey regarding my recent purchase. Was that really necessary right now?

  Determined to spend this time with God, I turned off my phone, opened my Bible, and resisted the urge to post a photo with the caption, “Just spending a little time with the Lord this beautiful morning. #Blessed.”

  Enough, I told myself. Enough. Let’s focus on what’s most important, okay?

  *

  In the salon that day, I tried not to complain about my knee. As the bruise turned purple, looking more painful than it actually felt, everyone commiserated with me.

  Of course, that didn’t stop them from laughing when I explained how I’d been injured. For some reason, everyone found it hysterical that I’d passed out at the mere sight of blood.

  My own mother laughed the hardest. To embarrass me further, she told the other hairdressers and our clients how I’d thrown up and fainted during the birth of my niece Linda Faith.

  “Have you ever seen a baby being born?” I asked in my defense.

  “Yes, it’s miraculous,” Jenny said, sweeping the area around her station. “I was in the room when my sister gave birth. What a powerful, spiritual experience.”

  “Well, that may be true,” I conceded, “but the birthing process is also disgusting.”

  That just made everyone laugh harder. My mother laughed so hard she almost fell out of the salon chair. It was then that I said, “Maybe it’s time for you to find a new hairdresser, Mom.”

  “Oh, Bianca, don’t be so melodramatic.”

  While the mood had been light, and I’d been joking around just as much as everyone else, my mother’s comment struck a nerve. How many times when I was a child had she told me not to be so melodramatic? Wasn’t I allowed to say something when people hurt my feelings? Wasn’t I allowed to express my opinion?

  I thought about the donuts in the break room Vicki had brought over this morning. Yes, that’s exactly what you need, the childish part of my brain said, lighting up at the thought of a sugar fix.

  No, you need to tell your sister to stop sabotaging your efforts to be healthy, the responsible part of my brain insisted. Sugar makes you crazy, so just stop, okay?

  Forcing a smile, I pushed both thoughts away and did what I always did. I cracked a joke, putting everyone at ease by pretending I wasn’t bothered by anything.

  Good job, my inner child said, now, go reward yourself with a cookie.

  *

  Because of his injury, Daniel didn’t work on my kitchen that night or the next. One of my clients told me Kate had brought him dinner and stayed to watch a movie.

  “Isn’t that nice,” I said, tamping down my jealousy. If only I’d thought about taking him dinner and staying for a movie.

  After lunch the following day, Daniel came into the salon while I was cutting Sonya Tuskaloski’s hair. He asked about my knee, and I told him it was sore but much better.

  “You don’t need the crutches anymore?”

  I shook my head. “No, I stopped using them after the first day. How’s your hand?”

  He held up his bandaged hand. “Not bleeding, fully covered, and in no danger of causing anyone to black out.”

  “Ha, ha.” I rotated the salon chair so I could reach the back of Sonya’s hair.

  Daniel folded his arms across his chest. “So, hey. I wanted to install the backsplash today, but because of my hand, I need some help. Joy’s working for Mrs. Maisel, and my neighbor isn’t feeling well . . . You mentioned that you were interested in learning how to install the backsplash? Do you still want to do that?”

  “Yes, I’d love to help,” I said.

  “Yeah?” He smiled as though pleased by my answer. “Are you sure?”

  “Definitely. Let me finish up here, then I’ll be done for the day, and I’ll be all yours.” As soon as the words left my lips, I realized the mistake in what I’d said.

  Embarrassed, I didn’t dare look at Daniel for fear he’d see the heat burning my face. Instead, I focused all my attention on Sonya’s hair.

  “Great.” Daniel’s voice held a hint of amusement. “I’ll take everything upstairs, then when you’re ready, we can get started.”

  “Sounds good.” I tried to act casual, and as Daniel headed toward the back of the salon, I told myself not to look. Then, I snuck a peek just as he turned to look at me. Quickly, I turned away, mortified.

  Breathe, girl, breathe. You don’t want to pass out on him again.

  As though reading my mind, Daniel chuckled. Then, he pushed open the back door and headed upstairs.

  “Who is that?” Sonya asked, her thick Slavic accent punctuating every word.

  “Daniel Serrano. I’m teaching his daughter to drive in exchange for having him renovate my kitchen.”

  Her brow lifted. “So that’s what they’re calling it these days.”

  I laughed.

  “You’re going to help him today?”

  I nodded. “I’ve been watching a lot of home improvement shows, and I thought it might be fun to install my own backsplash.”

  Sonya scoffed. “Those projects always take more time than they’re worth. Although”—s
he offered a sly grin—“I’m thinking from the looks of it, you won’t mind spending a little extra time on this project.”

  I rolled my eyes, despite thinking I couldn’t agree more.

  Chapter 16

  Daniel

  Not seeing Bianca for two days gave Daniel a lot of time to think. Although they’d exchanged a few texts, it wasn’t the same as talking to her in person. Despite not wanting to, he’d missed her smile and the way she made him feel when he was around her.

  Bianca didn’t exhaust him like all the other women who’d brought over dinner to help him recover from his injury. How they found out he’d been hurt, he had no idea. Part of him wondered if Kate Tate had a tracking device on him because she was actually waiting in the driveway when Joy drove him home from the Urgent Care.

  He really hadn’t wanted her to stay, but Kate insisted on heating up dinner and making sure he was comfortable. Then, she’d invited herself to watch a movie with him since her kids were gone with her ex-husband.

  He really needed to grow a spine and learn how to say no. Kate just seemed kind of lonely, and Daniel didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  Well, none of that mattered now. Just seeing Bianca and being in her apartment took away all the tension he’d been feeling since almost slicing off his hand.

  Now, Bianca was going to help him with the backsplash, and that would be fun. He chuckled to himself, thinking how much he liked Bianca’s sense of humor and how she just made things more enjoyable.

  Relying mostly on his good hand, he laid out the tile and marked the wall. By the time Bianca came upstairs, he had everything ready to go.

  Her face beamed as she hobbled into the kitchen. “I’m so excited to learn how to install the backsplash. What do we need to do first?”

  He smiled at her standing there in her fancy dress and designer shoes. “Well, first, you should probably change into something you don’t mind getting messy.”

  “Oh, sure.” She laughed her good-natured laugh. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  As she left the kitchen, he rolled his eyes at his pathetic attempts to flirt with her. Hadn’t he told himself earlier that starting a relationship with her was a bad idea? He’d never forgive himself if he ruined Joy’s friendship with Bianca.