Chapter 26
Richard stepped back, nodding toward me as he made his way to the door. “I’ll be back bright and early,” he said with that same warm grin I was starting to get used to. His hand lingered on the door for a moment before he glanced back. “Take care, Joyce.”
“You, too,” I replied, and as the door closed behind him, I felt a calm settle in the room. It wasn’t a bad feeling, just a reminder of the small connections we were building with each other.
Just as I exhaled and turned, Gabriella stepped back inside, looking a bit distracted. I could tell she had a lot on her mind—more than just the repairs and more than the contest. I kept my voice even as I asked, “You want to talk about the cooking contest?”
“I’ve been practicing my dishes at my cousin’s house, using her oven. Between job interviews, of course,” she said.
“I thought you didn’t like your cousin much.”
“I don’t. But what else could I do? I needed an oven.”
Guilt clutched my insides at the thought of Gabriella having to endure her cousin’s bad attitude because I couldn’t afford to provide an oven for my tenant.
“See?” Gabriella held out her hand. “This is why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to feel guilty, Joyce. I know we were both bummed about Celestia. Plus, we were both already upset about Elijah. I guess I just didn’t want to add any more pressure on you.”
“Pressure?”
“Yeah.”
I blinked, taking in her words. Pressure? I was raised on pressure. In fact, I was so used to shouldering the pressures and burdens for everyone else, her declaration nearly offended me. She had no business carrying her problems alone! This child is basically my mini-me.
She stuffed her hands in her pockets. Fidgeting. “Annnnnd…”
I knew there was more to the story.
“This contest is citywide, sponsored by Robin Creek. I didn’t want any speculation from Mrs. Maine or anyone else that I had special favors because I’m associated with someone who works for the city. I think it would be better if you didn’t come at all.”
I frowned, my heart sinking a little. “That’s silly. Who would think something like that?”
“Ummm…Mrs. Maine,” Gabriella said. “She’s been talking to people about me. She asked at my job—well, my old job—to see if I’m undocumented. She’s looking for a way to disqualify me from entry. Totally desperate.”
A hot wave of anger surged through me. How dare she? The thought of someone like Mrs. Maine prying into Gabriella’s life like that made my fists clench involuntarily. “That’s because she knows you’re gonna beat her one day,” I hissed.
Gabriella shrugged. “Anyway, I didn’t want you to get caught up in all of that, especially after everything you’ve already done for me. You have enough troubles of your own to—”
I held up a hand to stop her. “Gabriella, enough. My troubles are your troubles, and your troubles are my troubles. We’re family now.”
Gabriella smiled weakly. “I know. I just don’t want Mrs. Maine or anyone else thinking I’m where I am because of anything other than my cooking.”
Her words hit me hard, and I nodded, understanding more than I wanted to. “I get that. But you don’t have to hide things from me to protect me. Come. Sit down.”
We settled next to each other on the couch.
As I looked at her, something stirred inside me.
I wasn’t just seeing Gabriella as my tenant anymore; I was seeing her as someone I truly cared for, someone I wanted to protect and guide—not unlike my own daughter, but with a different kind of bond.
This young woman, with all her talents and dreams, had somehow slipped into my life and found a place in my heart, not as a responsibility, but as family.
As I formulated thoughts, I realized the speech I was about to give Gabriella was one that I also needed to hear.
We were so similar in how we interacted with others, it was almost scary.
And I could see that people-pleasing spirit in her, the same as it had been in me.
I never liked Lorenzo, but the truth of the matter was that he broke up with her when it should have been the opposite, a long time ago.
“Listen, Gabriella. I know we’ve had some conversations about my ex-husband.
About my daughter. And Lorenzo.” I paused, carefully measuring my words.
“You know, all of us—me, you—we’ve been so busy protecting everyone else’s feelings that we’ve forgotten our own.
I see it in you, that same urge to shield everyone from discomfort, to keep the peace. ”
Gabriella looked down, picking at her nails. “I don’t want to hurt people. And I don’t want to be a burden.”
“I get that. But trying to protect everyone else’s feelings at the expense of your own…
It’s not fair to you. I spent years doing that.
Years trying to keep everything together—trying to make Eric happy, Terri happy, all the people we needed to impress.
I thought it was my job to keep the family afloat, but all it did was drown me.
” I sighed. “And you? You deserve better than that, Gabriella.”
She glanced at me, her eyes glistening. “But I feel like if I don’t, I’ll lose people.”
I leaned forward, turning toward her. “The best, strongest relationships are the ones where people can be honest—where they can share what they really feel and know that the other person will still stand with them, no matter what. That’s what I’m learning, and that’s what you’re teaching me, Gabriella. ”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Me? Teaching you?”
I nodded. “Yes. You’ve been showing me what it looks like to stand up for yourself, to follow your dreams even when it’s hard.”
Gabriella’s lip trembled for a second, but she quickly composed herself.
I reached for her hand. “You’re stronger than you think. And if we’re going to be in each other’s lives, we need to be able to tell each other the truth. That’s how we build the kind of relationships—friendships—that last.”
She wiped a tear from her eyes. “I’ve moved around so much in my life. The last time I had a semi-friend was in high school. Marcia. We were best friends from ninth grade until our junior year.”
“What happened?”
“Her boyfriend tried to kiss me. And I told her. But instead of getting mad at him, she got mad at me,” Gabriella said with a tiny whimper.
“I texted her, inboxed her, but she just… It’s like she didn’t want to lose what she thought she had with him.
They stayed together. Went to homecoming and prom together.
The whole time I was thinking I should have kept it to myself. Then I’d have a friend.”
“Oh, Gabriella. I’m so sorry Marcia chose him over you.”
“I saw them on the ‘gram. They’re married now,” she said. “So they were destined to be together, I guess.”
I laughed. “Honey, just ’cause they’re married don’t mean the drama has ended.”
Gabriella tilted her head onto my shoulder. “I hope she’s happy, though. I really do.”
“I do, too. Who knows? Maybe they both matured. But you did the right thing, Gabriella. You’re honest. You told her what happened.
Maybe she was embarrassed, or she wasn’t secure enough to walk away.
The choice Marcia made was hers; it’s not a reflection of whether you were a good friend.
I happen to think you’re an amazing friend.
I mean, you’ve talked me into making more friends. How about that?”
She laughed.
“I’m proud of you and proud to know you. And you are going to beat Mrs. Maine and everybody else in this town!” I told her.
Gabriella wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. “Thank you, Joyce. That means the world to me.”
I hugged her back, feeling the bond between us tighten in that moment. “You’ve got this, Gabriella. You always have.”
“But promise me you won’t come to the contest tomorrow.”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to. The electrician’s coming. And if I did show up, I’d get kicked out, because I’ve got some choice words for Mrs. Maine!”
Gabriella sat up straight and looked at me down the bridge of her nose. “Hey, I will settle this once and for all. In the test kitchen. Not the streets.”
“Not the streets,” I repeated. “Kick her behind with your Blaxican boots!”
Gabriella’s face crinkled. “What the heck?”
We both fell over in laughter at my ridiculous joke.
* * *
Saturday came faster than I expected. Gabriella stood by the door, ready to head to the contest, her excitement barely contained behind her nervous smile.
I walked over, handing her a small lunch bag with some snacks. “In case you need something between rounds,” I said with a wink. “You’re going to knock their socks off today.”
She laughed softly, taking the bag. “I hope so. Thanks, Ms. Joyce.”
I reached out, gently squeezing her hand. “Remember, you’ve worked hard for this.”
Gabriella’s eyes gleamed. “I’ll try to remember that.”
With one final hug, I watched as she walked out the door, my heart swelling with pride.
A few minutes later, the electrician pulled up in his van. Right on time. I greeted him and his assistant at the door and led them straight to the kitchen. “I’ve been waiting for this moment,” I muttered to myself, watching as they unpacked tools and got to work.
Throughout the morning, I couldn’t help but peek in from time to time.
The sound of clinking tools and the hum of work gave me a sense of reassurance.
This was progress. Real, tangible progress.
But there was also a knot of worry building in my chest. What if something went wrong?
What if the oven still wasn’t compatible?
What if there was a nest of termites behind the wall that swarmed through the house when he tried to replace the panel?
I tried to push the doom-and-gloom thoughts aside, but they kept creeping back.
At one point, the electricians shut off the power.
The house went quiet, still, but inside, I felt the buzz of anticipation.
I paced the living room while the power was out, thinking of the bills and how it seemed like every time I turned around, this house found a new way to demand more from me.
But it wasn’t just the money—it was the fear that maybe I wasn’t handling things as well as I thought.
The oven was just one part of it. Could I keep everything together?
After what felt like an eternity, the power came back on.
I rushed to the kitchen just in time to see the electrician testing the oven.
He flipped the switch, and a low buzz filled the room as the oven sprang to life.
Relief washed over me, and I realized I had been holding my breath.
Soon, the oven would be back in working order, and I could see Gabriella using it again.
I imagined her whipping up one of her Blaxican masterpieces, the smell of spices filling the house, the sound of her singing as she worked.
As usual, I’d gotten myself all worked up for nothing. When will I learn?
I smiled, peeking into the kitchen once more. They were close to finishing now. They checked the wiring, testing and retesting, while I stood at a distance, arms crossed, nodding to myself.
Finally, the boss called me over to inspect the work. I ran my hand along the sleek edge of the oven, no longer just a useless hunk of metal in the corner. It was ready. “This is going to make things so much easier,” I said softly, mostly to myself.
I signed the paperwork, but not without a little wince at the bill. It was steep, but necessary. Staying independent and comfortable in my own home came with a price, but it was a price I was willing to pay.
After they left, I sat down at the table with a deep breath. The sight of the bill still lingered in my mind, but I focused instead on the satisfaction of what it meant. This house, this life, was still mine.
For a moment, I let that feeling settle in: a well-deserved pride in being able to stay in my home, to handle the repairs, and to keep things moving forward on my own terms.