Maybe This Time Read Online Free PDF Page A

fine.
Not wall-banging, earth-shattering, oh-my-god sex, but fun and energetic and damn satisfying just the same. Wall-banging, earth-shattering, oh-my-god sex was probably for people in their twenties. At least that was the last time she’d had it. “Will and I are good. And I don’t believe in astrology. Or dreams.” She looked sternly at Flo.
    â€œOf course you don’t, dear. Did you get the birth signs for the children?”
    â€œThe boy is a Taurus and the girl is a Scorpio. And yes, even if it turns out that means they’re going to kill me in my sleep, I’m still going.”
    â€œWell, the boy will be all right. You can always count on a Taurus. Steady as they come. Strong. The Bull.” She looked thoughtful. “They like
things,
you know? Good food, comfort, they’re very materialistic. If you need to win him over, that could help.”
    â€œI’d think good food and comfort would win anybody over,” Andie said, and Flo looked at her curiously.
    â€œNow why would you think that? The little girl’s going to be completely different. Intense. Secretive. You won’t buy her with comfort. And you won’t be able to bamboozle her, either. Scorpios. They’ll kill you as soon as look at you. They like sparkly things, though. You might get her with sequins.”
    â€œFlo, she’s a little girl.”
    â€œAlthough I’ve always liked Scorpios. They’re
interesting.
And they’re survivors. Taurus, too, those are both survivor signs. Tough kids. They’ll make it without you.” Flo bit her lip. “Andie, don’t go.”
    â€œI’m going.” Andie opened the driver’s side door to escape before her mother started on rising signs. “I’ll be back in a month, and everything will be fine.”
    â€œNo it won’t.” Flo took a deep breath. “It’s not just the dreamsand the stars. I read your cards last night. The Emperor was crossing you. That’s power and passion, so it has to be North. It was a bad, bad reading. You’re going down a path that’s all conflict and struggle. There’s no peace there. Will can’t help you, he’s not strong enough for you. North’s too strong.”
    â€œMother—”
    â€œLeave both of them,” Flo said, serious as death. “I’m scared for you, Andie.”
    â€œWell, stop it,” Andie said, and got in the car. Then she got out again and hugged Flo, who hugged her back, hard. “Sorry, Mom. I love you much. Don’t worry. In a month, I’ll be back and living here in town and you can run the cards for me every day if you like.”
    â€œYou don’t understand,” Flo said. “You’re not a mother. When you have a child, you can’t let her go into danger, you have to be there for her—”
    â€œFlo, I’m thirty-four. The child part is over.”
    â€œIt’s never over,”
Flo said, and Andie shook her head at her obtuseness and got back in her car.
    â€œI’ll call you while I’m there,” she said, and put the Mustang in gear, and then waved at her mother in her rearview mirror as she drove away.
    Sea goat,
she thought.
    A little Flo went a long way.
    Â 
    Andie headed south on I-71 and then turned off onto a winding two-lane highway and then from there onto another narrower road that moved into a heavily wooded area, making the drive dark in the middle of the day. The general air of desolation was not helped by the fact that she saw only two other cars once she passed the last sign of civilization—a shopping center—before she hit New Essex, the depressed little town that marked the turnoff to the long dead-end roadthe house was supposed to be on. By then the sun was going down, so fifteen miles later, when she saw the battered sign that said ARCHER HOUSE in the middle of some weeds, she pulled off to the side of the road in the deepening