What Family Means

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What Family Means Page 9

by Geri Krotow


  I laughed and served Violet’s and Will’s breakfast.

  “You have a point there, Vi.”

  A whiff of fine cologne caught my attention a split second before Will entered the kitchen.

  “Mmm, that smells great, honey.” He gave me a peck on the cheek. Even after all these years he was still careful not to be too demonstrative around his mother.

  “Morning, Mama.” Will bent to kiss his mother’s cheek. I saw how her face lit up whenever he showed her affection.

  I understood the bond. I had it with the twins.

  But in a more easygoing manner, I liked to think. Never as controlling as Vi had been—and still tried to be.

  “Angie called.”

  “I’ll bet she did.” Will poured himself some orange juice. “I saw the news upstairs when I was getting dressed. It’s going to be a doozy of a storm.”

  “Can’t you cancel your meeting?”

  His answer was reflected in his face before he spoke.

  “Are you kidding? These are the key players in the Niagara deal. After today we’ll be able to sign all the papers and break ground as soon as it thaws.”

  Will was referring to his current project. The new Grand Niagara Center was going to be located on both the U.S. and Canadian sides of the border, with only the falls separating the buildings. They’d attract a legion of high-end stores and successful businesses and bring in substantial income for both cities. Will had even been featured in Forbes magazine for this particular project.

  “What’s the earliest you’ll be done?” I worried about him on the roads but didn’t want to say so, not after last night’s conversation. Will thought I was too protective as it was.

  “Don’t worry, it’ll be early enough. This storm isn’t supposed to get going until closer to midnight, and I’ll be home long before then. Don’t forget, the weather guessers aren’t always right.”

  “Hey, your daughter’s a ‘weather guesser.’ Don’t let her hear you say that!” I smiled at him. “Just make sure you’re home before it gets too bad, Will. Violet, once the winds pick up—”

  “I know, I’ll bed down over here. But honestly, my cottage is fine. I’m warm there and it’s never lost power yet.”

  “There’s always a first time, Vi.”

  “Deb’s right, Mama. You come over here when the snow starts. Better yet, why don’t you stay at the house today?”

  Will looked at his mother, to make sure he had her attention. “No long walks, Mama. Use the treadmill.”

  “It’s too messy out there to walk anyhow.” Vi clasped her coffee mug, and I saw the emotions flow across her face. She’d become easier to read as she aged, as though the layers were disappearing one by one.

  She wasn’t happy about having to stay at the house through the storm, but I knew she’d do it.

  Vi hated to impose, but at this point she wasn’t an imposition at all. She enjoyed her television programs and had a love of reading that kept her occupied. She also loved to cook, and if it was up to Vi, both Will and I would weigh a third more than we already did.

  Will finished his breakfast and stood, stretching his arms overhead.

  “That was great, honey.”

  “I could’ve made you canned stew and you’d love it. You’ll eat anything after a workout.”

  “As long as you or Mama cooked it.”

  I walked Will to the front door. He leaned in close and whispered to me.

  “You’ll be okay with Mama here all day? Any chance you’ll need to go out for groceries?”

  “We have plenty. You know she doesn’t bother me in the least.” Will and I had kept an emotional distance since last night, but we’d been together too long to allow anything to get in the way of being affectionate.

  Disagreements would work themselves out. Why miss any loving in the meantime?

  I wound my arms around his neck.

  “I’d love it if we have to snuggle up tonight to keep warm,” I whispered.

  Will lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me until I couldn’t help leaning into him.

  “Count on it, Deb.”

  I pressed my forehead to his chin. “Will, I’m sorry about everything.”

  “I didn’t tell you so you could be sorry, Deb. I just want you to start enjoying your life. Our life.”

  I hugged him tight. “I’ll miss you today.”

  “I’ll miss you, too.”

  He let me go and opened the door. He buttoned up his coat, then put on his gloves.

  “See you later.”

  I smiled as I put his hat on his head and gave him one last peck on the cheek.

  “Bye.”

  Will strode under the portico and into the garage. He hadn’t wanted the garage to open into the house. It was just one of many details he’d seen to when he’d drawn up the plans. We both liked the house being its own separate building.

  Once Will left for work, my next task was to get Violet busy with something so I could work on my textile exhibit. And to try to keep my mind off Will’s accusations last night.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  July 1973

  Buffalo, New York

  DEBRA SLAPPED at a mosquito on her forearm. The mugginess of the summer night pressed against her.

  “You’re not eating your burger.” Will usually devoured two of the sirloin burgers at their favorite local hangout. One of the few places they could go without being given second glances. It was a quaint mom-and-pop place in the heart of downtown Buffalo.

  It had been a long, hot day as she worked in the tiny restaurant kitchen at Buddy’s grill. Her thoughts of Will and her anticipation of seeing him after her shift were all that had kept her going.

  Will wouldn’t meet her eyes and his shoulders were hunched. Not typical for him.

  “I have to tell you something.”

  Debra stopped sipping her vanilla-orange milkshake and sat up straighter. Normally she was the one who needed loosening up. She tended to take their relationship, and the fact that they were from such different backgrounds, far too seriously for Will. Even if they’d been of the same race, the disparity in their economic status was more than enough to make a long-term relationship impossible. At least in the eyes of their parents.

  “What is it?” Shivers went down her spine and they weren’t from the ice cream.

  “My parents aren’t going to take it well, Debra. The wedding.”

  “Will, we haven’t even picked a date yet. They’ll get used—”

  “No, no, they won’t.”

  “You mean your mother won’t.”

  Will sighed and played absently with a French fry.

  “She needs time.” His voice was gravelly and low, deeper than its ordinary baritone.

  Debra stared at Will’s face, his handsome features drawn into a big frown.

  “This isn’t fair to you, Will,” she began. “Have you ever thought about that? This is your time to spread your wings and see where your talent and education will take you. Instead you’re being forced to fight your parents over who you’re going to marry.”

  “You’re right, but they’ve given me everything I have. I owe them.”

  For once she was grateful she’d gotten through college on scholarships and hard work alone. She didn’t feel she owed anyone—other than herself. She’d do her best, but it would be on her own terms.

  “You don’t owe them your happiness, Will.”

  Will didn’t say anything.

  Realization hit Debra as painfully as if he’d punched her in the gut.

  “You’re having second thoughts.” Her words came out in a whisper.

  Will’s mouth tightened into a firm line. He expelled a long breath, then took Debra’s hands in his.

  His eyes shone with the love she knew he felt for her, but also with regret. Sorrow.

  “I’ve never second-guessed us, our love, my love for you. But our timing isn’t good, Debra. You still have to finish a year of school, and my dad’s business
hasn’t been doing so well. He’s more tired these days, and he needs me to help him.”

  Will stroked her cheek.

  “I’m not saying we can’t get married. I do think we should slow it down, worry about a wedding later on.”

  “We weren’t talking any earlier than next summer, Will, after I graduate.”

  Almost a year away.

  It felt eons away, and now Will wanted to add more time?

  “Let’s just focus on now and getting you graduated next year.”

  Debra’s tears plopped onto Will’s hands and the table between them.

  She pulled back but Will wouldn’t allow her to let go of his hands.

  “Deb, I love you. That hasn’t changed.”

  “Clean it up, people.” A ruddy-faced diner a few tables over didn’t look at them but the comment couldn’t have come from anywhere else. There were only the three of them in this corner of the outdoor eating area. Will and Debra hadn’t done anything untoward or even slightly offensive. If they’d been a white couple the man wouldn’t have made his comment. This type of subtle racism was the hardest for both of them, but especially Will.

  Will scowled, and Debra moved her hands down to his forearms.

  “Forget it, Will.”

  “I’m tired of forgetting things.” She saw the anger in his eyes, and it wasn’t solely at the ignorant man and his bigotry.

  Will might be tired of forgetting things but he seemed willing to forget their chance at happiness.

  Fatigue overwhelmed her. She’d had a long day at the restaurant and a wedding to cater tomorrow. She looked at Will. His expression had grown stony.

  “Can we go?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  Will drove her home in silence. Debra kissed him chastely on the cheek and slid out of the front seat of his Thunderbird, a gift from his parents.

  “I love you, Will.”

  She didn’t wait for his reply. She had to get out of the car, through the kitchen, past her mother and to the privacy of her own room.

  But her mother, Linda, proved to be a nonissue, as she wasn’t home from Wednesday-night bingo yet.

  Debra got herself a tall glass of water and took it up to her room. Once she lay flat on her bed, a numbing exhaustion overcame her. The ache in her chest welled up and she let the sobs come out.

  If she and Will couldn’t get past basic problems like their parents’ disapproval, how were they going to get through life together? How would they make it over the long haul? Debra hoped and believed that each year would open up more minds, and interracial relationships would become more accepted. But it wasn’t going to be easy. They still had to get through today.

  And today they wanted to settle in Buffalo, near both of their families. She didn’t think it could ever happen. Not now.

  Buffalo wasn’t Paris.

  WILL POUNDED on the steering wheel. He loved this car but hated what it stood for. Another bribe, another insidious tie to his parents’ power and control.

  He drove slowly and carefully through Debra’s neighborhood and over to his own. He kept going past his parents’ home. He couldn’t go in yet. He still had to think.

  He hadn’t told Debra the half of it. His mother’s hysterics, his father’s glowering. He suspected his father had less of a problem with him loving a white woman than upsetting his mother.

  Oh, his mother.

  Violet had been raised by a strict woman who’d preached the gospel of elitism to her from childhood. Her social and financial status was irrefutable and she’d never be happy with any of her children marrying “below” it.

  Violet had never liked Debra, ever since they were kids. She didn’t like Debra’s upbringing. Even with the promise of an Ivy League degree, Debra simply wasn’t good enough for her Will.

  Violet had never given up on Will marrying Sarah.

  It hadn’t helped that Sarah kept herself in the picture, acting as though Will was just going through a phase he’d get over at any moment. That he’d come to his senses, marry her, and all would be well.

  He needed to talk to his parents again, more sternly this time. But first he had to talk to Sarah and make it perfectly clear that they had no future together. Period.

  “WILL?” SARAH’S FATHER stood in the doorway. Will peered around his stout frame and into the parlor. Sarah sat on the couch with her mother, watching TV.

  “Will!” Sarah had heard her father’s voice and jumped up behind him. “Daddy, let him in.”

  “Actually, I just need to talk to you for a minute, Sarah. Can you come out here?”

  If Sarah’s dad could have leveled Will with his stare he would have.

  “I’ll be in here, Sarah.” He gave Will another withering look before he allowed Sarah past him onto the porch.

  Once Will had Sarah in front of him, he got right to the point. He had no doubt Sarah’s entire family was listening through the screen windows, but he didn’t care. The heat and his frustration made privacy less important than setting the record straight.

  “Sarah.”

  “Will, this is a surprise.” She smiled at him, pouting just a little. He might have surprised her, but Sarah was never without an attempt to hook him.

  “Look, Sarah, it’s clear to me that my mother’s been leading you on about my feelings toward you. I have to let you know that while I enjoyed our few dates several years ago, I have no intention of pursuing this. You deserve the truth. You should start looking for someone else.”

  Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “That white girl’s got you by the nose, doesn’t she, Will?” Her pretty face was twisted with ugly bigotry.

  “Debra is my future wife. And I’m in love with her. Of my own free will.”

  He kept his gaze steady. Sarah had to understand that his mother was out of line. But he wasn’t going to be disrespectful to Violet if he didn’t have to. Sarah was an adult; she knew the deal.

  “What happens when it doesn’t work out, Will? When the taboo of loving someone you shouldn’t wears off and she leaves you? And how fair are you being to your future children, Will? Have you really thought about this? Do you want some spotted—”

  “That’s enough, Sarah. I didn’t come here to ask your opinion or your permission. I’m just telling you to back off. There’s not going to be a ‘you and me.’ Ever.”

  “Will, I’m sorry. I got carried away. You know it’s only because I care.”

  “If you care, Sarah, you’ll stop talking to my mother and leave me be.”

  “Fine.”

  “Thanks again for your time.”

  “Goodbye, Will.” Sarah sniffed, but Will didn’t stay around to see her go back into the house. He had one more confrontation tonight.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Present Day

  Buffalo, New York

  WILL’S DRIVE TO THE OFFICE was uneventful, despite the slushy mess on the streets. The skies were growing darker, he noted, and the air was already getting chillier. That storm was definitely on its way.

  He turned into his spot in the parking garage and killed the engine. He sat for a moment, gathering his thoughts. His love for Debra and the kids was unquestionable, and he knew Debra understood that. Yet there were times in a marriage when one of them had to speak up, to keep the other on track.

  Deb had kept him on track through so much. She’d even bridged the chasm his father’s death had created between him and his mother.

  But now it was his turn to keep her on track. Some time ago Deb had decided she knew best for everyone in the family. He hadn’t paid much attention. He’d been too busy with his career.

  Now Debra had a chance to really shine with her own career accomplishments, but she still distracted herself from her work with the kids’ problems and concerns.

  She’d seemed crushed last night when he’d told her how he felt—that she’d been ashamed after all these years of their mixed marriage.

  He shook his head. Ashamed wasn’t the right word.


  Apologetic, maybe?

  His watch beeped as it did on the hour, every hour. The teleconference was in thirty minutes.

  He’d reopen the discussion with Debra when he got home.

  July 1973

  Buffalo, New York

  WILL DROVE UP his parents’ driveway, knowing this could be the last time he’d come to their house. After he told his parents his intentions, he knew his father would kick him out for upsetting his mother, and his mother would disown him.

  So be it.

  He parked in front of the house he’d been raised in. It was a good house. It had been fun when he was younger, with him and his little sister and brother running through the halls, playing hide-and-seek in all the closets and even on the dumbwaiter.

  The house was almost two hundred years old. His dad had kept up with renovations and repairs over the years, but in the past while, there’d been more of a strain on the family budget, with his younger siblings in college and now Doreen getting married.

  She was getting married at age twenty-one, three days after her graduation from Hampton University. His parents should be more concerned about Doreen marrying that sly dog Thomas than his marriage to Debra. He and Debra were well-suited, emotionally and intellectually. Doreen and Thomas, however, were two spoiled, immature kids who still expected everything to be handed to them. They even expected their parents to help with their first home and, sure enough, Mom and Dad had donated to the cause.

  Will growled to himself. He wasn’t asking his parents for a dime. He just wanted their love and understanding.

  He’d always been the dutiful oldest son, taking care of the younger kids and still getting the best grades, achieving whatever challenge was presented to him.

  Yet now it seemed none of that mattered. He should’ve screwed off and had more fun if it was all going to come to this anyhow. It would’ve been a lot more entertaining to be the prodigal son.

 

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