Free What Family Means by Geri Krotow

has made our kids better? Stronger?”
    “Like my family did me?” The sarcastic tone of my voice destroyed any chance of resolving this peacefully at the restaurant table. Will knew it hurt me that I was essentially estranged from my mother.
    I stood up and grabbed my purse.
    I walked out into the parking lot of the restaurant and sucked in a deep breath. It was so cold it made me cough, which at least took my mind off the pain in my heart.
    Will followed a few minutes later, after he’d paid the bill.
    We got into his car without comment. Typical of Will and me—we threw our cards on the table, then let them lie there for a while.
    It was like when I knitted up a sample swatch to see how a particular yarn looked with different stitches. I had to wait and work on another project for a bit before I knew if I wanted to move forward with a particular stitch and fiber combination.
    Sometimes an old sweater that didn’t fit anymore came back in style and I did the pattern again, in an updated yarn and often a larger size.
    But our marriage wasn’t a knitted garment. It was more like a wardrobe that spanned years, decades and, now, a generation.
    We pulled into the garage. Will cut the engine and pressed the button on the automatic garage door opener. He turned to me.
    “I’m not ready to continue this conversation, Deb. Can we just go in and get some rest?”
    “Of course.”
    I stared at him, and he at me.
    How are we still together?
    The thought flitted across my mind as if it were a nursery rhyme instead of a potential grenade.
    I’d loved Will forever and always would. But our compatibility wasn’t perfect.
    “Will—”
    The light on the door opener clicked off. Since the garage was attached to the house and the one window faced the woods, we were plunged into darkness.
    “Not now, Debra.”
    The dome light came on as Will opened his door and got out of the car. I had no choice but to follow.
    “Easy for you to say,” I muttered.
    Will had never worried as I did. He felt the kids were so privileged financially and academically that any negative issues due to their obvious mixed-race background weren’t significant.
    “Hey, it’s just as easy for me to do. But I know it’s never been in your repertoire to let things fall as they may. Did it ever occur to you that the world goes on without Debra Bradley to keep it spinning?”
    We entered the house, and Rose greeted us, tail wagging.
    “I’ll take her for a walk.” Will collected Rose’s leash.
    Tears of frustration stung my eyelids.
    “So we’re back at it and you’ve been home, what, half a day?”
    It angered me that he would come home and be so loving, only to turn on me later and try to get me to see things his way. When it came to the kids, we’d never seen eye-to-eye. Not a hundred percent, not even fifty.
    I’d stayed home to raise them. So it made sense to me that I felt more protective of them on all counts.
    “C’mon, Rosie.” Will didn’t reply, just clipped the leash on the dog’s collar and went out through the front door.
    I had a few minutes alone and was grateful for them. I needed to calm down. It didn’t all have to be solved tonight.
    By the time Will and Rose came back, I was sitting at the farmhouse table that stood between the kitchen and the family room.
    “I made some chamomile.” And I’d laced his with extra honey, the way he liked it. Maybe that would take the edge off.
    “Thanks.” He removed his coat and slipped out of his shoes.
    “It’s almost balmy out there. Rose splashed through the slush like she was at the beach.”
    I didn’t comment. It was my turn to wait for him to settle in, to get a few sips of tea into his belly.
    “I don’t get it, Will. I’m not supposed to be emotionally invested in my own daughter’s pregnancy? A daughter who hasn’t even told her husband she’s pregnant?”
    Will set down his tea and looked at me. He was calmer than he’d been fifteen minutes earlier.
    “Honey,