What Family Means. Geri Krotow

      

      Praise for Geri Krotow’s debut title, A Rendezvous To Remember

      “Geri Krotow’s assured debut is a true gift to readers—a novel packed with emotion and filled with an expansiveness that crosses generations. It combines a woman’s journey of the heart with her discovery of devastating secrets of the past…all adding up to a triumphant and uplifting conclusion.”

      —Susan Wiggs, New York Times bestselling author

      “Geri Krotow’s debut book is a wonderfully written story of love nearly lost. Actually, it’s two wonderfully written stories, interwoven through time.…I will anxiously await this author’s next book. Her style is fast-moving and easy to read, and this book is very highly recommended to anyone who enjoys romance…or an emotional book.”

      —Rob Ballister, www.militarywriters.com

      Geri Krotow is a “new author to watch.”

      —Debbie Macomber, New York Times bestselling author

      “I stand in total amazement that this is Geri Krotow’s first published book. What a beautiful and moving story of love during two very different generations! Talk about an emotional punch…A Rendezvous To Remember is a real-world story told with all the heart and emotion of real people loving each other.…A Rendezvous To Remember highlights the true depth and power of love.”

      —CK²S Kwips and Kritiques

      “Geri Krotow makes a notable debut with A Rendezvous To Remember, an absorbing, richly detailed story with wonderful characters.”

      —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

      Dear Reader,

      It is with great delight and joy that I wrote What Family Means, my second published novel, for you. Set in my native city of Buffalo, New York, and the surrounding western New York area, this story demonstrates what love of one another and love for family can do. It can bridge backgrounds, communities, people from all walks of life. In the not-too-distant past heroes and heroines from different backgrounds and upbringings weren’t applauded when they fell in love, or when they managed to make their love work despite overwhelming odds against it. Will Bradley and Debra Schaefer not only made it through the struggles and conflicts that their families and society threw at them, they raised a beautiful family. And their love still endures after almost forty years of marriage.

      I hope you are able to cheer on both Debra and Will as they face their conflicts, yesterday’s and today’s, to provide a love that lasts a lifetime, not just for them as a couple but for their family. Love, this is what family means.

      Please send me your thoughts on this story via my Web site, www.gerikrotow.com.

      Peace,

      Geri Krotow

       What Family Means

       Geri Krotow

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Raised in Buffalo and western New York State, Geri always dreamed of romance and adventure. A graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy, she moves around the world with her navy pilot husband, two children, a dog and a parrot. Geri loves to hear from readers. You can reach her at her Web site, www.gerikrotow.com.

      With all my love to Alex and Ellen,

       who teach me every day what family means.

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      CHAPTER NINETEEN

      CHAPTER TWENTY

      CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

      CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

      CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

      CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

      CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

      CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

      CHAPTER ONE

      Present Day

       Buffalo, New York

       Debra

      “YOU’VE NEVER BELIEVED ME about this the whole time we’ve been married. Why should I expect you to change now?”

      Will Bradley, my husband of thirty-five years, stared at me with an intensity that made my hands clench on the shirt I was putting in his suitcase. His charcoal eyes sparked with annoyance. Will was never one to get easily worked up, but judging by the twitch over his left eyebrow, my latest obsession with our grown children’s lives had sent him over the edge.

      Or at least very close to it.

      “I hear you, Will, you know I do. But the kids, especially Angie, haven’t had the smoothest path.”

      I tried to keep the “look” off my face—the expression Will and our children said I’d mastered. The “I’m right so don’t even bother to argue” look.

      Apparently I didn’t succeed in keeping my face blank. Will’s nostrils flared as he drew a deep breath.

      “Dammit, Debra, you go back to this every time.” Will referred to my long-held belief—and, okay, guilt—that our interracial marriage had placed undue burden on our children.

      He glanced up from packing.

      “What do you always say to me, Deb? ‘It’s the twenty-first century. The new generation doesn’t see us in terms of skin color. We don’t get a fraction of the stares we used to draw.’”

      “Give me some credit, Will. I know that times have changed, and the kids are all doing great—better than a lot of our friends’ children.”

      I stood up from the bed to make my point.

      “Angie’s always had it the toughest. She’s older than the twins and remembers the more-blatant prejudice in high school and college. Jesse’s family wasn’t immediately supportive of their white son marrying our biracial daughter.”

      Will didn’t respond as he packed his socks and underwear. I hated when he went all quiet like this.

      “Why did Angie move back to Buffalo while Jesse’s away? Why didn’t she wait for him to return from his mission?”

      I knew I wasn’t the only one worried about Jesse’s safety in Iraq, where he’d gone for humanitarian reasons. He was there to use his surgical skills, working as a government contractor. The military was grateful for civilian talent such as Jesse’s.

      Will ran a hand over his short-cropped hair. His fingers caught my eyes. I was always a sucker for his hands—chocolate-brown skin stretched over the most elegant fingers, the most sensual hands, I’ve ever seen. He could have been a doctor like his father if he’d wanted to. But his passion was architecture. He’d used those fingers to produce beautiful buildings instead.

      “This is what I’ve never understood, Will. How can you be angry with me for caring about our children?”

      “There’s