And reminded too much of what she might lose with Jesse. She didn't want him to think she'd "tricked" him into the pregnancy. They'd both had a good time that night and she'd had no indication that she was fertile. Up until now, their protective measures had worked....
"You know your father and I support you, honey."
"Mom, don't go blaming yourself for this. This has nothing to do with you or Dad or our color."
Angie was well aware that her mom often wondered if their children suffered because of their interracial background. Debra was from a Polish-American family in one of Buffalo's poorer suburbs.
Dad was from an educated African-American family and had grown up in an affluent neighborhood. Debra had been her family's first to go to college and to have a real career. Will was just another son in a long line of college-graduate professionals.
Angie considered herself both black and white, although she knew many people saw her as African-American, especially in areas that were still predominately white. She'd been born with her dad's curly hair and the lighter brown skin of her paternal grandmother. She had Debra's green eyes.
On the West Coast, in the anonymity and cultural diversity of San Francisco, she'd never felt her skin color was an issue. She'd been free to become the woman she was today.
"You know, I have a better idea of what you're going through than you realize."
"Really, Mom?" Angie tried to keep her tone neutral, but if she had a cookie for every time Mom said she "knew" what Angie was feeling, Angie would weigh three hundred pounds. Mom?" Angie tried to keep her tone neutral, but if she had a cookie for every time Mom said she "knew" what Angie was feeling, Angie would weigh three hundred pounds.
"Seriously, Angie. I was younger, it was a different era, but I expected to raise you on my own."
"You were married, though."
"Well, after I was pregnant with you. As a matter of fact, it was after I'd had had you." you."
"After I was born?" I was born?"
Debra steadied her gaze on Angie. "Your dad and I were almost-" she shook her head "-no, we were were high-school sweethearts. Or at least we were meant to be." high-school sweethearts. Or at least we were meant to be."
Heat rushed into Angie's face as she stared at her mother. "Why don't I already know this?"
Debra flicked her fingers against her mug. "No reason to bring it up before. Do you really want to know the details?"
Angie didn't hesitate. "Yes. And start with the high-school stuff."
CHAPTER FIVE.
February 1967 Buffalo, New York "YOU HAVE A LOT of homework this weekend?" of homework this weekend?"
Will looked at Debra with what she thought were the most beautiful brown eyes on earth.
"Not too much." She felt suddenly shy as they stood on the sidewalk where the school bus had dropped them off minutes ago. Cars whizzed past on the busy street Kenmore Avenue had become as they'd grown up.
"Trigonometry going okay?" Will always asked how she was doing. Deb was taking all advanced courses, so although she was only a sophomore she was well on her way to college-level credits by her junior and senior years.
Just like Will.
"Yeah. I did have a bit of trouble with this one problem, but I'll get it."
"Why don't I help you?"
Deb smiled at Will and nodded. "That'd be great." Truth was, she didn't need any help. From the beginning, school had been her escape and now promised to be her ticket out of the Buffalo neighborhood her entire family seemed to live in. College would be her passport to a better life.
"Let's go over to my house and I'll get my notes from two years ago. Then we can work in Dad's office."
"Great." Although going to his house made her nervous, she fell into step beside Will, marveling, as she often did, at how well they spent time together. They were both excellent students and enjoyed a lot of the same literature.
But she'd become aware of a tension between them over the past year or so. Nothing bad, just...different. She knew what it was; she'd had crushes on boys before. But they'd always faded.
And Will always remained her best friend.
"I'll wait for you in the office while you get your notebook, okay?" This was their usual routine. Deb waited in Dr. Bradley's office, while Will got what he needed from his house.
Debra didn't go over to Will's anymore. They'd stopped hanging out in his house a few years back, when Will started high school. His mom wasn't keen on it. Said their age difference was too great.
Deb's mom didn't really know how many afternoons Deb spent studying with Will. Deb would never dare bring Will home. It was an unspoken rule that Deb's mom and extended family wouldn't go for her bringing a black boy to the house, even as a friend.
Deb told her mother as little as possible. She still worked for Will's dad in the doctor's office and didn't raise an eyebrow whenever Deb and Will came in and did homework there the way they used to as kids. The office was neutral territory. Most days, though, they went to the public library.
"I'd like it if you came with me to the house, Deb." Will had a strange look on his face. Deb wondered if something had happened at school that Will needed to talk about.
"Well, okay, I guess." She trudged through the slush alongside him. The heavy snowfall from last week had melted into this mess, but would freeze up again by nightfall.
"Thanks." Will loped comfortably next to her, but she still sensed an uneasiness in him.
"Is everything okay, Will?"
"Yeah, yeah, everything's great. And don't worry about Mama, she's at her charity work today."
Relief washed over Debra. So Will's house was empty, unless their housekeeper was still there. Mrs. Bradley was nothing but polite to her. But Angie understood she was persona non grata persona non grata in Violet's opinion. White and poor. Not a match for Will. in Violet's opinion. White and poor. Not a match for Will.
As they got to the house, the wind picked up.
"The storm's coming in quick." Deb lifted her face to the breeze that was getting colder by the minute.
"You've loved storms since we were kids." Will stared at her and she gazed back at him.
"Yes, I suppose I have. You noticed that?"
"I notice more than you ever realize, Deb."
Will's handsome face looked so good to Deb. But she noticed the twitch along his jawline.
He kept staring at her as though he'd never seen her before.
"What is it, Will?"
He swallowed visibly and drew in a deep breath.
"Deb, you know I'm going to Howard University in the fall."
The pain that pinched her stomach frightened her.
"Yes, I know that. But it's only February."
"My senior year. You'll be in college in two more years yourself, Deb."
"Yes, 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. them. Apparently her charity work wasn't today, after all. 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, The Tempest, while she waited. 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. 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.