What Family Means by Geri Krotow Page B

scarf for that damned bear, and here it was, fifty-three years later, still alone.
    My mother was right, in her coarse, matter-of-fact way.
    “That sonofabitch didn’t have the decency to tell us to our faces that he was going for good. Didn’t make sure we were taken care of.”
    It was a verse ingrained in my life, as I’d heard my mother sing my father’s curses until well after she’d met her current husband, Fred. But I was a little girl and he’d been my prince.
    I fingered the tiny red scarf. If not for my first prince abandoning me, I’d never have met the real prince of my life.
    Will.
     
    “S OY NO-WHIP MOCHA , right?” Phil O’Leary placed the brand-name coffee cup on Angie’s desk.
    “Thanks, Phil.” She looked up at him from the bank of screens that displayed various measures of Buffalo’s meteorological status. As the new Director of Operations, Angie knew her staff watched her closely, and she needed to be as informed as they were on the weather.
    “My pleasure.” Angie noted that, indeed, Phil seemed quite pleased with himself. Her assistant had fallen all over himself to impress her since she’d arrived four weeks ago.
    At some point she was going to have to tell him shewasn’t interested, but she didn’t want to seem uncaring or unappreciative. One thing she remembered about this city—it was a friendly place.
    Unlike the West Coast where she’d lived during her post-graduate years and early career, people in Buffalo treated everyone like family. There wasn’t much of a “getting-to-know-you” phase.
    The weather grid was typical for a northern New York February—including the possibility of a severe winter storm by the end of the week. Angie loved the thrill of watching the huge system take shape. The weather in San Francisco had its moments, but not the unpredictability of a Buffalo winter.
    “I hope you’ve bought some cold-weather gear since you transferred.” Phil chuckled and shook his head at the monitors. “It’s going to get dicey over the next few days.”
    Phil loved talking. Angie did, too, but not at work. And definitely not when she was putting her own forecast together.
    “Phil, have you found out any more about the interns from the university? Do we have enough room for them over spring break? And what about the grad students who’ve requested interviews?”
    Phil took the hint and went to his desk, still wearing his benign smile.
    Angie’s own smile left her face as soon as she turned back to the screens and morning reports. The watch-floor meeting was in fifteen minutes.
    The weather team would have their analysis ready, but she liked to form her own opinion first. That waythere was less chance of missing an important detail or being off on the timing.
    The storm analysis wasn’t holding her attention like it usually did. The mess she’d made of her life was distracting her.
    The baby proclaimed his or her presence more every day. Her breasts and belly were visibly swollen and her face was fuller, flushed with the new life inside.
    She needed to tell Jesse. Mom was right about that. But she didn’t want him to think she’d planned this behind his back or wasn’t listening to his opinions and wishes.
    Neither of them had wanted children for the longest time, but she’d been feeling the urge to have a baby over the past two years. She’d mentioned it to Jesse, and while he didn’t say they’d never have kids, he didn’t want to plan on it for the near future.
    His childhood had been abusive at the hands of alcoholic, drug-addicted parents. Though they were clean and sober now, Jesse didn’t want to pass any risk of addiction to his own children. He had a brother and a sister, both of whom had kids who appeared to be healthy and well-adjusted. But Angie had never been able to convince Jesse that he’d make a wonderful parent, too. He said he was content to be the favorite uncle to his nieces and nephews.
    Angie swirled the coffee in her cup. She