Maybe This Time Read online

  The cold knifed through her, and she gasped, and May was everywhere, flowing through her veins, staring out from behind her eyes, filling her, blotting her out.

  Stop! Andie said, but no words came out because May had taken her tongue.

  May stretched Andie’s body to feel it move. “God, this is good.”

  Get out, get out, get out NOW! She gave a frantic shake for air and light, but May smothered her, held her.

  “Oh, please. I gave you every chance. I told you I wouldn’t quit, and you really thought I’d just give up?”

  Andie pushed back frantically, trying to push May out, and May laughed as she expanded her hold, and Andie’s world went black and white, full of icy cold filling her like the taste of poison.

  “You really think you evicted me that night at the house with North? I quit because you threw up, you idiot. You have no idea what I can do. You think Crumb put the salvia in your tea? Half the time you were talking to her, it wasn’t her at all, it was me!”

  NO, Andie screamed, but she was blocked everywhere she turned, her own thoughts drowning in May’s—

  “Andie?” Alice said, and May turned around to see the little girl in her nightgown.

  Run, Andie thought, but Alice couldn’t hear her.

  “I want to make banana bread, too,” Alice said, pulling a chair over to the counter.

  “We can’t, honey,” May said brightly. “See? The bananas are all brown.”

  Alice froze climbing onto the chair.

  “We’ll get new yellow ones tomorrow,” May went on, but Alice was backing away. “What’s wrong?”

  Run, Andie screamed at her.

  “Nothing,” Alice said. “I’m just very tired. We’ll make banana bread tomorrow.”

  She walked out of the kitchen calmly, and then Andie heard her on the stairs. Running.

  “I blew that one,” May said. “What’d I do wrong?”

  Get out of my body! Andie screamed at her.

  “You have two choices here,” May said. “You can share this body with me, or you can fight me and I’ll smother you and take it all for myself. Which, frankly, is what I’d like. I know it’s mean, but a girl has to live.”

  Stay away from Alice! Stay away from my kids!

  “Hey, they were my kids first. I love those kids. I’ll take good care of them. And I’ll be better to North than you ever were. I’ll like the things he wants to give me, I’ll like being his wife.”

  NO, this is MY LIFE, Andie raged, but she could feel the sound echo as her body felt farther away, and her view of the world became scratchier, like a battered old black-and-white film.

  “You weren’t even using it. Don’t be a dog in the manger.” May smiled at her reflection in the dark window over the kitchen sink. “It’ll be all right. In a little while, you won’t even know. I held on to Crumb too long once and she almost stroked out. I think the part that’s you will just . . . fade away. You said you’d rather die than be a shadow.”

  You’re not going to do this, I’ll stop you—

  “You can’t. This is one thing you can’t fix. So just go toward the light, honey. I have it on very good authority that there’s something wonderful over there.”

  “Who are you talking to?” North said from the doorway.

  May whirled around. “Nobody! Just myself. You know what a flake I am!”

  “I never thought of you as a flake.”

  He came into the kitchen and May went to him and put her arms—My arms, Andie thought—around him.

  Andie thought, He’ll know, but she knew he wouldn’t, there was no way he could know, he didn’t believe in ghosts, and May had been studying her for a month, watching the two of them together for four days, and she was smart. May wouldn’t make mistakes.

  “Boy, are you cold,” North said and rubbed her arms.

  “Make me warm then,” May said and kissed him, pressing her—MY!—body against him.

  North kissed her back, the deep, longing kiss that always made Andie’s knees weak, and she could feel May respond, feel her own body respond, but it wasn’t her. NO, it’s not me, it’s not me, STOP!, but when he pulled back, he looked deep into her eyes, and she thought, He can’t see me. He couldn’t see me when it was me, he’ll never see me now.

  North pushed against her with his hips, trapping her against the counter, his body hard on hers, and Andie thought, She’s winning, she was drowning in black and white, the cold immobilizing her, as if she were trapped in May’s cold, dead body . . .

  “Tell me what you remember,” he said to her.

  “What?” May said, and he kissed her again, and she smiled.

  “Tell me what you remember about us,” he said, “tell me what you’ve missed.”

  You don’t remember anything, Andie taunted her. You don’t know him. You don’t know us.

  “I missed this,” May said, grinding her hips against his. “I missed you, lover.”

  “Tell me something we did that you want to do again, something just for us.” He smiled into her eyes.

  “Uh, dancing. I love dancing with you. And . . . baking. And . . .”

  You don’t know, Andie said, and grew a little warmer, not warm, but not quite so freezing cold, as May began to panic.

  “I don’t care about the past, make love to me,” May whispered to North, sliding her hand down his chest. “You know you want to.”

  North caught her hand. “Not even when you were alive,” he said and held her as she jerked away. “I want Andie back. Now.”

  Oh, thank God!

  Andie could feel May’s grip loosen more from the shock. He knows, Andie taunted her, trying to find her way back. He knows you’re not me. He doesn’t love you—May’s grip loosened more—He’ll never love you—Almost, almost—He loves me!

  “North, are you crazy?” May said, fighting back. “This is me. This is Andie. I love you!”

  “You don’t know a damn thing about love,” North said, colder than Andie had ever seen him.

  “I could learn,” May said, pressing against him now. “You could teach me. I could love you—”

  He loves me, Andie whispered inside May’s head. He loves me. It’s me he wants to kiss good night.

  “You’re not my wife,” North said, gripping her harder.

  “It’s her body,” May was saying desperately. “It’s all you need. I’m more fun. I have her body—”

  “You’re not her,” North said, his face grim as he held her, “and I will send you to hell to get her back.”

  May tried to yank away, and Andie felt the cold grow again. “Well, you can’t. There’s nothing you can do. I’m Andie—”

  “You’re Aunt May,” Carter said from behind them, and North turned so that Andie could see him coming toward them, his lighter in his hand, Alice crying behind him.

  “I’m sorry, Andie,” Alice said. “I’m sorry.”

  Look what you’re doing to Alice! Andie said, trying to find whatever humanity was left in May.

  Carter’s face was stolid. “She made us hide a piece of her hair in Alice’s Walkman before we burned the rest of it.”

  Look what you’re doing to Carter!

  “Shut up!” May screamed.

  “I’m sorry,” Alice cried. “Andie, Andie, I’m sorry.”

  You’re torturing Alice, Andie whispered to May.

  “I’m Andie,” May said, desperate now. “I’m Andie.”

  “You promised,” Alice sobbed. “You promised you wouldn’t do this, you promised!”

  She doesn’t love you, Andie whispered. You betrayed her, you lost her love, you’ve lost everything now. Nobody loves you, you’re a monster, nobody loves you—

  “No!” May said, but she was weakening, Andie could feel warmth again, and color flickered in front of her now.

  North said to Carter, “What do we have to do?” and Carter held out his hand to Alice.

  Alice hesitated, then put her Walkman on the table and unsnapped the blue leatheret