What Family Means. Geri Krotow

yes, I will.” And she couldn’t wait!

      “Maybe Ivy League.”

      “Maybe.” She’d worked so hard on her studies, in the hopes of a full scholarship.

      “My point is that we’ll be far away from each other after this year.”

      “Will, we’ll still be friends!”

      “I don’t want to be just your friend, Deb.”

      “Oh.” It was her turn to swallow. Her insides trembled and it wasn’t from the cold or wind.

      “Deb. You mean the world to me.”

      Will pulled off his backpack and dropped it on the concrete porch. He stepped closer to Deb, leaving barely an inch between them.

      “I can’t imagine my life without you.” He placed his hands on either side of her face. Debra thrilled to the electric shivers his touch sent across her skin.

      “I know.” She couldn’t say anymore, daren’t. She didn’t want tears to mess this up.

      “Deb. May I?”

      “Yes.”

      He lowered his head and she watched it all. Will’s dark, smooth skin. His eyelids lowering, his breath making a cloud between them. His lips touched hers and Debra closed her eyes.

      It was better than Debra had ever allowed herself to imagine. Will was sweet, tender and very much a gentleman. After the first contact he continued to kiss her, over and over.

      Debra had never experienced anything so delicious in her entire life.

      “Will!”

      Will and Debra jerked apart at the shrill sound of his mother’s voice.

      Debra looked over her shoulder and saw Mrs. Bradley standing in the entry behind the storm door. They hadn’t heard it open.

      But Violet Bradley had heard them. Apparently her charity work wasn’t today, after all.

      Will recovered first.

      “Hi, Mom.” He leaned down and grabbed his backpack.

      Deb stood there, shaking. Her most exciting moment had quickly soured. Violet Bradley hated her. Tears of humiliation and pride pricked at Debra’s eyelids.

      “Get in here, son!”

      “Yes, Mom.” Will shrugged, turning to Debra.

      “I’ll meet you in the office in a few minutes.”

      “Okay.” Debra nodded at Mrs. Bradley. She didn’t wait for an acknowledgment. The look on Violet’s face told Debra that Will was in for a battle.

      Debra all but ran down the steps and back through the woods to the office. After saying a quick hello to her own mother at the receptionist’s desk, she sat down in the back inventory room where she and Will usually did their homework.

      Debra pulled her trigonometry out of her backpack and opened her binder to her notes. She settled into her English assignment, The Tempest, while she waited.

      Will never came.

      CHAPTER SIX

      Present Day

       Buffalo, New York Debra

      IT WASN’T EASY to keep from bursting into torrents of laughter at the shocked look on Angie’s face.

      What, did she think her parents never had sex? Poor thing, with her morning sickness and all.

      My sense of humor wasn’t always in tune with everyone else’s, and I was sure Angie found nothing funny about what I told her.

      I kept my cool as I drove. I needed to get to the welcome nest of our home. Mine and Will’s.

      I pulled into our long, wooded driveway and parked in front of the house. I’d teased Will mercilessly that he should just have built a tree house. It was what our place reminded me of.

      It was built only twenty years ago, Will’s design, but looked as though it has been part of these woods forever. The cedar siding and A-frame structure blended perfectly with the trees.

      The house cost us a fortune at the time. Will wanted to design the home we’d live in for the rest of our lives, and he wouldn’t settle for less.

      I was glad he didn’t.

      We came here when the kids were still young, Angie fourteen and the twins in grade school. I had so many joyous memories of raising those kids in this home.

      Angie.

      My daughter can be impetuous, and this latest stunt was no exception.

      A baby! Without her husband….

      I was going to be a grandmother. But not how I’d expected.

      Since Blair and Stella had been trying to get pregnant, I hadn’t considered any other possibilities. Certainly not Angie….

      The fact that she hadn’t told Jesse bothered me. He was working in the middle of a war zone, under stress, but to know he was going to be a father would boost his morale, wouldn’t it?

      They’d been married for seven years. Angie didn’t discuss it, but I’d always thought they’d have kids at some point, when it was important enough to both of them.

      I went inside and threw my knitting bag on the old cane chair from Will’s father’s old office.

      The office where I met Will, all those years ago.

      I looked around for our dog.

      “Rose!”

      The golden retriever was up in my room, no doubt, her ears pricked to my arrival but not wanting to leave her warm bed. Will loved that dog so much. Rose was spoiled more than the kids had ever been.

      “C’mon, Rose! We’ve got to check on Vi.”

      Rose came out and padded down the stairs. Her tail wagged at the mention of Vi. That dog was crazy about Vi, something that stumped me, as Vi was never very affectionate to her.

      “Let’s go.”

      We walked out the back kitchen door and I left Rose outside in the yard as I knocked, then entered Vi’s cottage. She never locked the door.

      “Vi?” The kitchen light over the sink was on. I saw the back of Vi’s silver head on the other side of her cream sofa.

      “Oh, hey.” She raised a thin hand as I circled the room and gave her a careful look.

      “How are you doing? Did the meds help?”

      “Yes. I’m sorry I bothered you when you were out having fun with the girls. How was your coffee with Angie?” Vi always made it sound as though my life was one big party.

      “You didn’t bother me. Angie sends her love. How about some tea? Have you eaten lunch?” Judging by the lack of dishes in her sink, Vi hadn’t moved from the couch since I’d checked in on her before I went to the Koffee Klache.

      “Yes, I made myself a sandwich.”

      “Are you sure?” I nosed around the kitchen a bit. No sign of even a crumb. Ahh, there was the evidence—a butter knife with a mustard smear.

      “Yes, I’m fine—resting now.”

      I turned on the water and washed the knife for her. The cottage had a dishwasher but Vi wouldn’t use it—said it was “too much” for just her.

      I made us both tea and took the cups into the sitting room.

      “You can put your show back on, Vi.”

      “No, no, that’s okay.” Liar. I knew she watched her soaps every day, and she knew I knew. I grabbed the remote and clicked on the television.

      “Here,