What Family Means

by Geri Krotow

  “Don’t get all worked up, Mom. Paris isn’t anything to Jesse and me but a meeting place.”

  “Do you really believe that, Angie?”

  “Mom.” Angie wouldn’t make eye contact; she concentrated on the knitted items I’d laid out on the table.

  “What are these for? Golf clubs?”

  Angie held up the burgundy covers that, unknown to her, might as well have been a scarlet A.

  “Yes. I never finished them.” And never went through with the physical side of an emotional adultery, thank God. It had just been a fantasy, and an opportunity I’d passed on.

  “Angie, listen to me. I’m well aware that you could raise this child by yourself if you want to. But if you think you’ll come to regret not mending your relationship with Jesse, then you have to try.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “But there’s another thing, Mom. I’ll miss your opening night of the exhibit.”

  “That’s okay. It’ll still be here when you get back.” Of course I wanted Angie there for opening night, but I wanted her family situation settled more.

  She held up the tiny ivory cardigan she’d worn to our wedding. She’d been all of six weeks old.

  “You made this for me?”

  “I did.” I hesitated for just a moment. What the hell. My grandchild wasn’t coming into a family of secrets, not if I had anything to say about it. And I did.

  “You know we didn’t get married until after you were born, right?”

  “Yes, you told me in the coffee shop.” Angie frowned at me. “Did you intend to marry Daddy once you left Buffalo?”

  “No. Yes, of course.” I sighed. “I don’t know what I thought. I knew I needed to finish my degree, and I knew that I couldn’t come back until it was done.”

  I watched her finger the delicate baby sweater.

  “Your dad was going through a difficult time that year with his dad, your grandfather, passing away, and well…Grandma wasn’t always so easy to deal with.”

  “Mom, Grandma’s never been easy to deal with. She and I have a bond, but don’t think I haven’t noticed her bossiness.”

  “Bossiness is one thing. How she was before…” I looked out at the snow that was blowing so hard it made a musical pling-pling against the windowpanes.

  “I’ve told you and your brothers that times were different then, even as recently as twenty years ago. You’ve seen a huge change in your lifetime, haven’t you?”

  “You’re back on the color issue, Mom. I’m telling you, it’s never been the problem for me that you expected it to be.”

  “Angie, you’ve been blessed with beauty and smarts. For the most part you’ve always been around people as educated as you. And don’t lie to me. I know you’ve had your own struggles.”

  I drew in a long breath, then exhaled.

  “My point is that when your dad and I got married, we could’ve been exactly alike, except for the color of our skin, and it wouldn’t have been good enough.”

  “I studied African-American history, Mom. I get the social issues.”

  “I know you do, intellectually, and on some level, in your heart. But living through them is another matter.”

  I smiled at my daughter.

  “I wouldn’t change anything, Angie. I love your father and he’s the man who I’m supposed to be with. He always was. That’s why I’m saying you need to go after Jesse and work things out if you honestly believe he’s the man for you. He’ll come around on the family issue—it sounds like he already has. He’s more committed to you than almost any husband I’ve met. And once he knows about the baby…”

  “That’s just it. I don’t want him to want a family merely because he has no choice.”

  I had to laugh.

  Angie’s brows drew together. She didn’t understand that I wasn’t laughing at her.

  “Honey, I had the same thoughts when I was pregnant with you, and right before your dad and I tied the knot. It isn’t something you can control anymore, Angie. You and the baby are a package deal.”

  “I don’t like being anybody’s ‘deal.’”

  “Don’t be so obtuse, Angie. You know what I’m getting at.”

  Angie gnawed at her lower lip. Her dark curls fell against her café-au-lait skin and I was struck again by what a beautiful woman she’d become.

  “I thought by the time I was thirty-five I’d have the world figured out.” I saw a tear slip out of her eye and roll down her cheek.

  I walked over to her and hugged her tight.

  “Oh, baby, we never get it figured out. That’s the hell of it all. But…it’s also the fun part.”

  Angie pulled away and rubbed her cheeks.

  “Damn these hormones,” she muttered.

  “They’re a good thing. They mean your body’s doing what it’s supposed to.”

  “Were you this emotional with me and the twins?”

  “Oh, yeah. Some days it was all I could do to keep my mouth shut so I wouldn’t say something horrible to some poor, undeserving soul.”

  Angie giggled. “I bit my new employee’s head off for using up the last of the copy paper. There were stacks and stacks of it in the cabinet right next to the machine, but it didn’t matter. I did apologize,” she added quickly.

  “I’d expect no less.” I smiled at her. “Are you going to be able to sleep?”

  “Yes. I wish I was at the station, but this is the way it is. If they need me they can call me on my cell.”

  “It sounds like this storm will stop by noon tomorrow.”

  “Yes, that’s what my systems are indicating. So I can get to the station then.”

  “Angie, you’re forgetting one thing.”

  “What, Mom?”

  “It’ll take a day for the city to clear the streets. Just look out at that driveway. I’ll bet there are three feet of snow. You’re not going anywhere until it’s safe.”

  “Something else I don’t have any control over.”

  I remained silent. This was a precious hour Angie and I wouldn’t normally get, between her career and mine. Our coffee-shop meetings were great but not the same. They didn’t allow enough time for these heart-to-hearts.

  Which on most days was fine with both of us.

  But tonight we needed the connection.

  I WOKE SUDDENLY in the middle of the dark night. The howl of the blizzard hadn’t lessened, and the house continued to make its familiar groans. The storm hadn’t awakened me, but my dreams had. They weren’t so much dreams as thoughts that continued the conversation Angie and I had started last night.

  I remembered the early years, how our marriage had begun….

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  May 1974

  Boston, Massachusetts

  THE DOORBELL RANG right as Debra was changing the messiest diaper Angie had ever produced. She was only three weeks old and Debra breastfed her, so the poop didn’t smell. But the mess had a way of oozing through every diaper edge possible.

  “Mrs. Irwin, could you get the door for me?”

  Debra smiled at her angel, poop or no poop. It was astonishing how a baby could soothe a broken heart, mend a shattered dream.

  She finished changing Angie and smoothed out her own dress. It was graduation day. Mrs. Irwin had insisted Debra get her diploma in person. It was going to be a hot day again. With her swollen breasts and still-aching body, Debra didn’t relish spending a couple of hours at the ceremony. But she’d be able to sit down and rest for a bit—that couldn’t be bad, could it?

  “Who was it?”

  Debra walked into the tiny front sitting room, Angie perched on her shoulder.

  “It’s me, Deb.”

  Debra credited motherly instincts and unseen angels with the fact that she didn’t drop Angie on the floor. Will stood off to the side of the foyer; she didn’t know how she hadn’t seen him at once. His height and muscular body made enough of a statement, but in his suit and tie, and with the spark of triumph in his eyes, he all but knocked Debra
off her feet.

  “Will!”

  “I’ve found you.” His gaze feasted on her as though he were starved for the sight of her. She saw him take in her face, her hair, skim her body. And rest on the back of Angie’s head.

  “I thought you were graduating today.”

  Debra watched the emotions play across his face. He was trying to figure out if she had a friend or relative visiting with a young baby.

  “Today is graduation day. How did you know?”

  “I called the school. I wanted to surprise you.”

  Instead, Debra thought, he’d surprised himself. At least, he was about to get the surprise of his life.

  “Oh.”

  “You look tired.” His voice sounded tentative. No doubt Mrs. Irwin’s presence threw him off, too.

  “Why don’t I take Angie for a walk?” Mrs. Irwin reached out to Debra, but Debra’s hand tightened on her slumbering child.

  “Not right now, Mrs. Irwin. Would you mind, if, um…”

  “Not at all, dear. I’ll run and get the groceries you need and come back in time for you to leave.”

  “Thank you.” Debra smiled her gratitude at the woman.

  The screen door slammed shut behind Mrs. Irwin, and Debra and Will stood where they were, staring at one another.

  “I’ve missed you, Debra.”

  “Let’s sit down, Will.”

  The only place to sit was a tiny love seat Debra had brought from Buffalo last year.

  Their immediate proximity stole her breath away and would soon rob her of rational thought. Maybe she should’ve suggested they take Angie for a walk.

  “What’s with the baby, Deb?” Will’s voice, right next to her, stirred the coals that always glowed for him in her heart.

  Just go ahead. Get it over with.

  “She’s ours, Will.”

  His hands stilled on his lap, and she felt his breath catch.

  “Ours?”

  “Crystal Beach.” The night they’d made love as though they’d never see each other again.

  “Apparently the Pill isn’t as effective if you miss a day or two.” With the stress of Dr. Bradley’s death and her schedule at the restaurant, she’d forgotten a couple of times. Still, she hadn’t thought it would be a problem.

  “You never told me?”

  “I couldn’t, Will. Not yet. I planned to.” She clasped Angie tighter to her shoulder. “Not like this, of course.”

  “But when? Are you coming back to Buffalo?”

  “No. I have a good job here in Boston. I can care for us both. Will, I don’t want you to worry, I’m not going to ask you for anything. I can raise Angie.”

  “Without me?”

  “Will, when I left…”

  “Things were horrible, Deb. But they’ve calmed down, and even if they hadn’t, I’ve learned one thing this year. That I don’t want to live without you.” He shook his head as though clearing it. “You never said anything about this in our phone calls.”

  No, she hadn’t. They’d agreed they needed some space, but also agreed to talk regularly. The phone calls had always been a week or two apart. She and Will both needed to hear each other’s voices.

  “How could I, Will? I don’t want you to feel guilty—or obligated to marry me because of the baby. We already talked about why marriage is too hard for us.” As she spoke, big tears squeezed out of her eyes and onto the baby blanket.

  “No, Deb, you talked about why we couldn’t marry. I’ve never agreed with you. I know it won’t be an easy path for us, but it isn’t easy for anyone. My career’s going well enough that I can support us, so we won’t have to deal with a lot of the problems.”

  “You mean cocoon us in a rich house somewhere.”

  Just like his mother had been cocooned while married to his father. Out of touch with the real world, living her fantasy of the life she’d been raised in and expected her children to carry on.

  A plan that did not include her eldest, Will, marrying a white woman from a lower economic class.

  “No.” He didn’t argue further, just denied her accusation.

  “It’s a girl?”

  “Yes. Meet your daughter, Angie. Angie, meet your daddy.”

  His gaze was so tender, so wondrous.

  Debra lowered Angie into his arms.

  “Here. Support her head. Like this.”

  Will took the bundle and looked down into Angie’s face. His daughter.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Three weeks.”

  He looked up at Debra. “So you’ve been pregnant all this time?”

  Debra laughed. “Since you saw me last.”

  “This is why you didn’t come home at Christmas.”

  “Yes. Plus I needed to get my dissertation done before I got too big or in case the baby came early.”

  “You finished everything?”

  “Yes.” She said the word quietly. Studying and working her usual demanding schedule had been difficult while she’d had morning sickness, and then again right after the birth. But with the help of a few friends and Mrs. Irwin, she’d come through.

  Mrs. Irwin had been her landlady in graduate off-campus housing, but turned into a wonderful mentor when the baby came. And she loved helping out with Angie.

  “You’re not angry?”

  Will kept staring at Angie, and held her tiny fingers in his.

  “I am, and I will be, more so as I think about everything you’ve been through alone. But right now, Deb, I’m a daddy. We have a daughter.”

  Present Day

  Buffalo, New York

  Debra

  I SMILED TO MYSELF. The dark-blue gloves I’d worn ragged in Paris still had their shape, despite the nearly four decades since I’d first cast on the yarn to make them. Memories of Paris and Will were never sad. I’d been able to let go of whatever fears and reluctance I’d had about our relationship and just live.

  And love.

  The phone rang. I grabbed it from the bedside table, holding the gloves in my right hand.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, babe.” Will’s sweet voice warmed my insides.

  “Hi, honey. I miss you.”

  “Yeah, me, too. And I miss our bed. This couch is warm but my back’s killing me.”

  “It doesn’t look like you’re coming home today.” I glanced over at Will’s side of the bed and sighed.

  “Not until they get the major roads cleared.”

  “I just saw the news. The snow hasn’t stopped and now they’re saying it won’t till later this evening.”

  “So if we’re lucky maybe we’ll be together tomorrow night.”

  “I hope so.” I didn’t think it would happen that quickly, even with Buffalo’s advanced snow-removal equipment. But I didn’t want Will to say I was being negative.

  “What have you been doing?”

  “Hanging out with Vi and Angie. Angie’s still asleep. We were up late last night, talking.”

  “Oh?”

  “I told her about our first year.”

  “Oh.” His voice was flat. “What did she say?”

  “Not much. She was a bit surprised, but when she thought about the times, she understood.”

  “Why tell her now? None of the kids ever asked about it before.”

  “Why should they? We were married before Angie was a year old, and of course the boys don’t know any different.”

  “You haven’t answered my question.” I heard the tiredness in his voice from sleeping on the office couch. I also heard his defensiveness. He never wanted the kids, especially Angie, to ever think he was anything less than one hundred percent behind them.

  “It’s because she’s pregnant, alone and trying to figure out how to tell Jesse.”

  “So you volunteered our circumstances from over thirty years ago?”

  “It came up because of the sweater chests. I was pulling out some baby clothes to see
what was still fit to wear. One thing led to another.”

  I didn’t mention that I was changing the scope of my exhibit, or that I wasn’t looking at my stash just for the new baby. I wasn’t ready to tell him, not yet. Our argument was too fresh, and he’d think I was trying to pander to his arguments.

  Will didn’t reply, and I felt a hot rush of anger. Our story wasn’t just Will’s to tell or not tell. It was mine, too.

  “Don’t worry, Will, I didn’t apologize for falling in love with a black man. And believe it or not, our conversation didn’t have anything to do with you. I was the one raising Angie those first weeks, the one who birthed her and clothed her and provided for us both.”

  “Damn it, Debra, that was your choice!”

  “Was it really my choice?” I heard his breath over the phone and mine was just as tense. There was a silence, as if neither of us dared speak.

  “I don’t think so, Will,” I said eventually. “You needed time away from me at that point. If I’d come back to Buffalo at Christmas pregnant with your baby, God knows what would’ve happened. Your family needed time to heal from your dad’s death.”

  We both knew what I meant—that Vi had needed time. She’d teetered on the brink of insanity in the aftermath of her beloved husband’s early demise. My pregnancy, caused by her son, would have sent her over that brink.

  “I never intended to keep Angie from you, Will. Not forever.”

  “I don’t know, Deb.”

  An icy finger cooled my anger while stirring long-buried fears.

  “What are you saying?”

  “You were pretty comfortable when I showed up. You had a job, a wonderful babysitter and a nice home, for a graduate student. Is there any reason I should believe you would’ve told me about Angie any sooner?”

  “Why are we having this conversation thirty-five years after the fact? You never mentioned any of this before, never questioned my motives for keeping Angie away from Buffalo in the beginning.”

  “I was younger. I was so damned relieved to have found you that I didn’t care.”

  “Why care now?”