Sometimes what you want in your twenties isn't what you want or need in your forties…. When Lucy's husband loses his job, she is forced to give up her posh life and move their family to a tiny apartment in Manhattan, where he has managed to secure a lowly position. Lucy soon finds herself living in the epicenter of cool and hip. Across from their apartment is a bar called PDT-when Lucy passes by she thinks, "Please Don't Tell anyone I'm a middle-aged woman." Homesick and resentful at first, Lucy soon embarks on the love affair of her life-no, not with her husband (though they're both immensely relieved to discover they do love each other for richer or poorer), but with New York City and the three women she befriends. There's Julia, who is basically branded with a Scarlett A when she leaves her husband and kids for a mini nervous breakdown and a room of her own; Christy, the trophy wife of a much older successful man, who is a bit adrift as only those who live high up in penthouses can be; and disheveled and harried Robyn, who is constantly compensating for her husband who can't seem to make the transition from wunderkind to adult. Spot-on observant, laugh-out-loud funny, yet laced with kindness through and through, No One Could Have Guessed the Weatheris what happens when you grow up and realize the middle part of your story might just be your beginning.