What Family Means Read Online Free PDF Page A

to Buffalo; with his credentials they were both confident that he’d find an equally good—temporary—career opportunity as a neurosurgeon. They’d put their condo up for rent just as Jesse was sent to Iraq.
    Part of her felt childish for not telling Jesse the minute she knew she was pregnant. But she wasn’t a child anymore; she was a thirty-five-year-old woman about to have her own child.
    Debra carried her usual green tea and a small plate of oatmeal raisin cookies to the table. How her mother stayed so slim was beyond Angie. Angie took after her father’s side—just one glance at a sweet put the pounds on.
    “How’s Grandma Vi doing?”
    “She’s fine.” Debra sighed. “I checked on her after knitting group and fixed her an omelet.” Angie knew that taking care of Grandma Vi was more complicated now. Something as simple as getting her to eat regularly made a huge difference, but the responsibility tended to take over her mother’s life.
    Debra’s silence confirmed Angie’s thoughts.
    “How was the group?”
    “Fine, fine.” Debra busied her hands with settling her coat and her purse; she rested her knitting on her lap. Knitting or anything fiber-related could always lift her mother’s spirits.
    “What are you making now?” Angie stared at the ball of pink fuzz in Debra’s lap. She hoped it wasn’t something for her.
    Debra laughed. “It looks alive, doesn’t it? It’s a new yarn. I thought it’d be perfect for your future niece or nephew.”
    Of course. It was for Blair and Stella’s baby.
    Angie tried to focus on how great Blair and Stella had been this morning. They weren’t pregnant yet, but Angie had no doubt they would be soon. In the most perfect manner, and everyone would know about it.
    Blair’s twin, Brian, wasn’t married yet. But his growing relationship with “the blonde” Blair had mentioned was promising.
    And then there was Angie.
    Angie glanced up from the yarn into her mother’s green eyes. Mom’s red hair still corkscrewed around her face, the longer locks a halo about her head. Debra wore an expression reserved for her tough-love moments.
    Angie gave a mental groan.
    “Are you planning to tell me what’s going on or do I have to extract it out of you over this entire pot of tea?”
    Angie squirmed at her mother’s tone, and the immediate flush of anger at her own childishness annoyed her.
    “I’m pregnant.”
    How’s that for an adult statement?
    Debra’s mouth dropped open and the sound of her ceramic mug hitting the marble mosaic table reverberated.
    “You’re not!”
    “I am, Mom, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t even start.”
    Angie watched as the struggle between tears and joy played across Debra’s face. If Angie wasn’t so afraid it would make her throw up again, she would have laughed.
    “I don’t believe it, Mom. You’re actually speechless.”
    “This is wonderful—but you said you never wanted chil—”
    “Mom, I said don’t start. I mean it.”
    “What do you expect, Angie? My only daughter tells me she’s having my grandchild and I’m supposed to—what? Be quiet?” Debra picked up her tea and gulped down a huge swig.
    “Ouch!” She grimaced as she burned her tongue.
    “Are you okay, Mom?”
    “I’m fine.” Debra took a deep breath. She turned her head to the side, her gaze aimed at the huge picture window that looked onto the entrance of the café. But Angie knew Debra wasn’t seeing anything but her own thoughts.
    Debra turned her face back toward Angie and smiled. “Oh, honey. I’ve always dreamed of this. I mean, your brother and Stella, they’re trying and that’s wonderful,but there’s something so special about your own daughter having a baby.” Debra eyed Angie over her mug. She wasn’t done.
    “You have other things to consider, sweetheart. You are older.” Debra reached over and Angie welcomed the warmth of her mother’s hand clasping hers.
    “Mom, I’m older than you were when you had us, but