What Family Means

by Geri Krotow

  I knelt beside her but she only spared me a glance. She needed all her energy to get oxygen.

  “Tight…chest…hurts.”

  “Hang on.”

  I went into her kitchen and got her emergency meds, then grabbed the oxygen tank from the pantry.

  “Let’s get you hooked up.”

  Angie continued to stroke Vi’s back while I got her on the oxygen and gave her the drugs I’d been instructed to.

  “You’ll feel better soon.”

  Even as I said it, Vi’s complexion pinked up.

  She always refused any outside help except for me and Will. A permanent care facility could’ve been an option but not for Will’s mother. Or for us. Not as long as we could take care of her.

  When her breathing evened out and she was more relaxed, leaning back on the couch, I spoke.

  “Vi, this is why it’s important to use the oxygen and take your meds each day. It’ll prevent these crises.”

  She waved her hand in front of her face.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to die sooner than later.”

  “Grandma!” Angie hated Vi’s talk of death. But Vi had claimed she’d be joining her dear departed husband “soon” for the past thirty-six years, since his death.

  “Vi, we’re all going to die. But there’s no need to go out before we have to or with this kind of suffering.”

  Her gaze locked on mine. I saw her pain, her frustration. She’d always been the maestro, orchestrating her own life—or at least thought she was. Now even the illusion of control was gone.

  “Just let me lie here. If the good Lord wants me, He can take me now.”

  Gently I lifted her feet and swung her around so she could lie full-length on the couch. I reached over her and tugged down the afghan I’d knitted her, placing it around her. The shades of browns and purples accented her pallor but also brought out the amber flecks in her brown eyes.

  “The good Lord isn’t taking you anywhere right now,” I said briskly as I tucked the edge of the blanket under the sofa cushions.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “No, I don’t. But you’re looking a heck of a lot better than you did fifteen minutes ago.”

  Vi sniffed and rolled onto her side. “Where’s the remote? It’s time for my show.”

  Yes, she was definitely feeling better.

  “Here, Grandma.”

  “I’ll make you some tea,” I said.

  I went into her kitchen and made enough tea for all three of us. Vi needed to come over to our house and stay there. But she’d fight me on it. I decided to wait and have Will tell her instead.

  Vi’s days were numbered, and I tried to remind myself that it was no different for any of us. But I couldn’t lie. Her doctor had told us a year ago that this time would come, when the congestive heart failure she’d suffered for so long would attack with a vengeance.

  And her eighty-five-year-old body wouldn’t be able to fend it off.

  As we sat there and sipped tea and tried to help Vi get some down, I mused that my own mother was the same age but appeared twenty years younger. Yet my mother never spent much time with us. Her interest in her grandchildren was fleeting at best.

  And here Vi, who’d fought tooth and nail to keep Will and me apart, had become an integral part of our family.

  Once I felt she’d come through the worst of her episode, I left Angie with Vi and went back to the house to call Will.

  “Your mother had a spell, honey.”

  “How bad was it?”

  “She’s okay now, but it was scary for all of us. Thank God Angie was over there.”

  I heard his sigh, felt the heaviness in his heart.

  “We’re lucky we’ve had her this long,” he said.

  “Yes, we are. But it doesn’t make this any easier.”

  “Do you think we should take her to the doctor?”

  “I’m going to call him now. He said he’d be willing to come out here if we ever need him, but honestly, I’m pretty sure we’re okay. He’s not going to tell us anything different, and I followed all his instructions.”

  “Yeah, well, thanks for doing this, honey. Do you want me to come home now?”

  What he was really asking me was, “Will my mother still be alive when I get there?”

  “No, I think she’s fine now. You may want to call her in a bit.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “What aren’t you telling me, babe?”

  “Will, she needs to come live with us. Even the cottage is too far away. If Angie hadn’t been there, she could have died.”

  The act of uttering those words made my heart beat faster. In some ways, I thought I was detached from Vi, despite our years of mending fences. But she was Will’s mother. And she’d been more of a mother to me than my own.

  “Can you and Angie get her to the house now?”

  “Honey, you know your mama. She’s not going to come over here unless you’re the one calling the shots. It’s not a problem. Angie and I will sit with her through the day, and you can bring her over tonight.”

  “All right.” His business tone was back in place. The news had scared him, but we’d both known for a while that this time was coming.

  “See you later, honey.”

  “Bye.”

  What I didn’t want to talk about over the phone was the obvious. Anytime in the past when Vi had a spell like this, she’d called the house or my cell phone immediately.

  She hadn’t this time. If Angie hadn’t walked over to watch the soap with Vi, it could have been a different day altogether.

  My fingers itched to knit. I needed the rhythm of the needles and yarn between my fingers to soothe my racing mind. If I wasn’t calm, I wouldn’t be able to keep Violet comfortable and at ease.

  And Angie had to be kept calm, too.

  I changed my wet socks and sweatpants and put on my favorite comfort socks with jeans. I’d knitted the socks several years back, and the cashmere yarn was soft against my feet. It was not politically correct to buy cashmere these days, because of the dust clouds caused by those huge herds of goats in China. So I was glad I made the socks guilt-free when I did.

  With Will’s sweater and more yarn stuffed into my tote bag, along with some tuna sandwiches I’d quickly made, I headed back to Vi’s.

  The snow sparkled under the sun. As bright as the sun looked, it didn’t warm up the temperature, which had stayed well below freezing for over a week. We were having a rough end of winter.

  At least the storm had passed, and I heard the plows in the distance. They’d have our street cleared soon, but until then Vi, Angie and I could enjoy the afternoon together. I swallowed some tears, along with the thought that this could be our last time….

  WILL LOOKED OUT at the street in front of his office. He’d made it in this morning only because he had four-wheel drive, but had called the house and told Angie to stay put—the highway to where she worked was still blocked and he saw no reason for his daughter and future grandchild to be at risk.

  He should’ve stayed home today. He could have. But he’d left out of habit. He was also feeling a little closed in, with the intensity of Deb, his mother and Angie all together.

  Just a few weeks ago he’d cursed his younger sister for not being here for Mama. She lived in Africa with her husband—her four kids were grown and gone. Jimmy and his wife were in South Carolina, where he’d retired from the U.S. Army. It was too far to expect them to come up here regularly and they couldn’t drop everything each time Mama had a spell.

  She’d never leave Buffalo. Her roots were here, and her ties to Dad’s memories.

  It hadn’t been easy, caring for Vi, dealing with her quirks and her hatred of his marriage to Debra in the early years.

  But he was glad that Mama had Deb. That they were together—and that he’d been able to do what his father had asked.

  Take care of Mama.

  Deb had played a huge part in this, and he didn’t gi
ve her enough credit. Plenty of other women would’ve walked out on him, just to get away from his family. Not Debra.

  Again, she was his rock.

  The very fact that Mama allowed Debra to tend her spoke of a trust that no one would have ever believed.

  Violet Bradley had given Debra a hard time, that was for sure. But Vi didn’t count on the quality in Debra that had attracted Will since they were kids.

  Her genuine care for other people. Whether it was a kid on the bus or Will or a stranger in the grocery store, Debra cared about how they were in that moment she shared with them. Will loved Debra for her compassion but hated when it turned to taking care of others at her own expense. He’d seen her run herself ragged over the years and end up with no time for him and the kids. And no time for Debra. Will loved it when she felt fulfilled, taking care of herself. She glowed with life and love and was a bigger, better version of the woman he’d married.

  Will chuckled to himself.

  He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t resist Debra’s big green eyes, wide-open and sparkling with compassion.

  Mama had just taken a while, that was all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  August 1979

  Buffalo, New York

  SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT, Debra waddled down the driveway of their Cape Cod colonial and shoved herself behind the steering wheel of the aqua Chevy Nova.

  Angie was wrapping up her morning at Grandma Vi’s. Of course, Violet never spoke to Debra, never made eye contact. After repeated failed attempts at hosting a family dinner, Debra told Will to take Angie to his mother’s.

  Debra couldn’t tolerate the hostility anymore.

  But she knew that Violet had fallen in love with Angie the first time she’d seen her, right after the wedding. Violet’s eyes had still been burning with rage at Debra and only softened marginally when she glanced at Will. But the sight of her first grandchild with mocha skin and sweet baby curls had melted a good portion of the glacier that was her heart.

  Not that Debra received any of the warmth.

  Debra drove the few miles to Violet’s house, where Will had grown up. She and Will had chosen to live closer to the suburbs and hoped to be out near Orchard Park or East Aurora before too long. They needed one more good year with his business.

  It’d been rough with the recession, but Will’s talent and hard work had paid off in hard-won contracts for several shopping malls around the country.

  The heat of the day was in full swing as she pulled up in front of Violet’s huge entryway. Debra sighed. The babies jostled for position and one little foot connected with her rib cage.

  “Ooof.” She rubbed her belly.

  Once she’d managed to hoist herself out of the car, she walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. She reached in for the package on the seat. Wrapped in white paper with tiny violets printed all over it was the shawl she’d knitted Vi. She’d actually knitted it years ago, when she and Will were just married and Angie was crawling around on the floor at her feet.

  But only today did she have the nerve to give it to Vi.

  Today was the anniversary of Will’s father’s death. And it was too hot for Violet to even entertain the idea of using the shawl. But Debra was sick of the constant tension. This was her attempt to negotiate a peace.

  Before she could get to the front door, the screen swung open and Angie ran out. “Hi, Mommy!”

  Angie hugged Debra’s knees so tight, Debra had to hang on to the door of the car so they wouldn’t buckle.

  “Hi, sweetheart. Did you have a good time?”

  “Yes, Grandma Vi and me ate san’ witches and drank l’monade and watched General ’opital.”

  “You watched General Hospital?” Debra was grateful her five-year-old wouldn’t have understood most of the soap opera’s goings-on.

  “Uh-huh.” Angie’s curls rasped against Debra’s legs. Debra looked at the front door. Vi wasn’t in sight. She didn’t come out unless Will was with them, or unless she absolutely had to.

  Debra squared her shoulders. Enough was enough.

  “Let’s go back in for a minute, honey.”

  “Okay, Mommy. But Grandma already said bye.”

  Clutching her daughter’s hand, Debra walked up to the door and peered in. Vi wasn’t in the foyer or the living room, either. She didn’t want to barge in and startle Vi, so she rang the doorbell.

  The huge gong made Angie giggle. “That sounds like our church bell, Mommy.”

  “Yes, it does, sweetie.”

  Vi’s steps were unmistakable, the shuffle of her feet in house slippers rhythmic against the hardwood floors.

  She rounded the corner and Debra acted as though she’d been studying Vi’s front garden all along.

  When Vi reached the door, she didn’t say anything. She didn’t open the door, either.

  Part of Debra wished it was winter so she’d have glass between them instead of just the screen. Vi’s negativity unnerved her.

  “Hey, Vi. Thanks for having Angie over today.”

  “She’s my granddaughter, aren’t you, baby?” Vi cooed at Angie, completely ignoring Debra.

  Debra leaned over as best she could with her bulge of a stomach and spoke in a quiet tone to Angie.

  “The car’s in the shade and the windows are open. Why don’t you wait for me there, honey? I’ll be over in a minute.”

  “Okay, Mommy.” Angie smiled at Vi again. “Bye Grandma.” She skipped to the open passenger door and climbed into the backseat, where several teddy bears were arrayed.

  Once Debra was sure Angie was out of earshot, she turned to Violet again, who still stood at the screen door.

  “I’ve got something for you, Vi.”

  “Any reason?” The condescension in Vi’s tone sent chills of warning down Debra’s back.

  “Many reasons, actually. I thought you might like a little gift to cheer you up today.”

  “Nothing will ever cheer me up from the loss of my husband. If you and Will—”

  “Violet, I’ve had enough of this. You’re the grandmother of my daughter and of these two boys inside me. You don’t have to like me, but you’re going to have to accept me. I’m not going anywhere. I love your son. Can you focus on that?”

  Debra’s anger gave her the momentum and courage to look directly at Violet, something she didn’t think she’d ever done before.

  “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

  “No, I don’t. But I can imagine. If anything happened to Will, I’d—” Tears welled up and her throat tightened.

  “You’re lucky all you have to do is imagine.” Violet’s tone was just as hard, but Debra detected a note of another kind. Was there even a glimmer of a chance that Violet would crack, maybe a fraction of an inch, and let her in?

  “I suppose your mother’s thrilled about the new babies.” Violet nodded at Debra’s belly.

  “No, actually, she’s never been happy with me since Will and I got married.”

  “I understand.”

  No, she didn’t understand, but Debra wasn’t about to go into her own family’s issues. Debra’s mother didn’t like Will, not just because he was black but because she saw how happy Debra was with him. Linda had never got over her bitterness at her husband’s leaving. She couldn’t be happy for Debra because she had no happiness for herself.

  “I’m tired of it, Vi. All the bickering, the blaming. I loved Will’s father, too, you know. He gave my mother that job all those years ago and kept us off food stamps and welfare.”

  “He was always doing for the less fortunate.”

  Irritation made another swipe at Debra’s composure but she ignored it. Violet couldn’t keep herself from consigning Debra and her “kind” to their “place.”

  Debra sighed. “I know it’s too hot for this now—” she held the package out to Violet “—but I hope you’ll appreciate it when fall comes.”

  Violet stared at the offered gift as though it were hot coals
ready to sear her hands. Debra watched the emotions on Violet’s face. Stubbornness, pride, sorrow, exhaustion. No regret, but Debra knew better than to expect too great of a miracle.

  All Debra prayed for was a tiny one—that Violet would take the damned shawl.

  Violet clucked her tongue. Debra was about to turn and go, but she saw Vi raise her skinny arm and unlatch the screen door.

  She opened it just far enough to take the gift Debra had painstakingly wrapped. Vi didn’t open the door any farther, nor did she even say “thanks.”

  But she took the gift. That was enough for Debra.

  “We’ll see you next week.”

  Debra walked back to the car. Vi didn’t knit, so she wouldn’t understand how much work had gone into the shawl or the intricate pattern Debra had designed for her.

  But it didn’t matter.

  Violet had accepted the gift.

  Present Day

  Buffalo, New York

  Debra

  THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON went smoothly. I’d spoken with Vi’s doctor, who assured me I’d handled things correctly. There was nothing to do at this point except to make Vi comfortable. She could live another day, a year or a decade. Such was the aging process and the effects of congestive heart disease.

  “Okay, ladies, I’m going to get our dinner in the oven.” I put down my knitting and stretched. “Anyone need anything?”

  “I think I’ll eat dinner here tonight,” Violet said, but her eyes never left the screen. The shopping channel was displaying its “best of the best” housecoats.

  “We’ll see. Let me go figure out what it is!”

  I gave Vi a peck on the cheek and squeezed Angie’s arm. Angie smiled at me, a smile that said, “Don’t worry, I’m here with her.”

  I walked back to the house with Rosie at my heels.

  “You’re hungry, too, aren’t you, girl?”

  The golden retriever wagged her tail and her whole body shook, even though she was shoulder-deep in snow.

  Once inside, I set about making dinner. I pulled the salmon steaks out of the refrigerator and grabbed the fresh dill I’d bought at the gourmet store.

  Then I tidied up the family room and as I folded Vi’s old shawl, I smiled to myself.