Chapter 1

1: April

Andrea Johnson knew people thought of her as a little strange. Her mama and daddy liked to tell stories about “toddler Andrea” who did weird things, seemed to know things she shouldn’t yet, and sometimes insisted they were calling her by the wrong name. By time she was three or so, it all stopped and Andrea became a more average, if somewhat precocious, preschooler. She didn’t think about it often, but sometimes had a very strong sense of déjà vu. She’d basically summed it up to past-life weirdness, realizing that some would see the belief in past lives as weirdness on its own. Some even said she was out of touch with reality, but Andrea just believed there’s more to reality than we typically see. And none of this was more than a funny anecdote at parties and family reunions, until the day she met Liz. But that didn’t happen until after Liz’s birthday.

* * * *

Liz smiled at the cake, grateful that her family had decided to go with the large numerical candles instead of covering the cake with forty little flames. Her eyes teared up as she listened to her father, closest friends, and son sing Happy Birthdayuntil she closed them to make a wish. Elizabeth Meri Winston was prepared for this birthday wish, and—not that she really believedin such things, but for whatever magic a birthday wish might have—she wanted to make this one count. She’d already begun making important changes in her life since the divorce: new home, indulging in hobbies she loved, going back to college, keeping up with therapy appointments. But she was ready to move on, missing the feelings of sharing the little parts of life with someone special, and she’d had no luck with her dates so far. She thought back to that night last weekend, as she’d browsed through her Lucas’ baby photos and other happier memories while she sipped her wine, trying to forget the horrid blind date she’d been talked into.

She’d pulled out her scrapbook full of memories of Michael, that first young love that had consumed her until it ended in tragedy. She turned the pages slowly, all those memories held inside: movie stubs, silly snapshots, birthday cards, prom pictures, notes he’d passed her in school, the letter he wrote her just after graduation—the last one he’d ever write. Her fingers trailed over the closing. Tracing the words, Yours, Eternally, suddenly she was bawling, missing Michael and all the idealistic plans they’d made together before he went and died on her. I’d do just about anything to have that kind of comfort and love again. After a good sob, she blew her nose and wiped the tears away, feeling somehow lighter, even with the sadness. Chuckling at the absurdity of being so affected after twenty-four years, and the extreme contrast between those dates with Michael, or even with her ex-husband, and the rude and cocky guy her co-worker had set her up with, Liz came to a decision.

And that’s what brought her to this moment, this eyes-closed, gathering up every bit of child-like belief in wishes and magic moment, taking in a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds as the wish formed in her head. I wish to find what really makes me happy, and I wish I could find someone to share the real me with when I discover her. She opened her eyes and blew out the candles with a smile. She could feel it. Things were going to change, and somehow, she just knew that forty would be her best year so far—assuming she could get through her exams in two week. 2: May

Andrea was just going about her life, studying history in grad school, working as a teaching assistant, and spending all her spare time studying, when a stranger walked in and turned her world upside down. It was a crowded afternoon in the library as finals were approaching, and Andrea was deeply focused on the 1500s when she registered someone asking if she could sit there. Liz’s voice was soft in respect for their location, but somehow musical, and then Andrea looked up and saw her face, twice. She clearly saw the woman standing by the study table, and then, like a double exposure, or a fancy film effect, saw her much younger, about fifteen or so, and a chill went down Andrea’s spine. She blinked and the weirdness faded, in front of her was just the polite woman waiting patiently for a response. Andrea nodded unconsciously and watched as Liz smiled gratefully and sat down on the opposite side of the table, pulling out her own notepad and stack of books to work through. Liz was clearly focused on getting right to work, and Andrea fully intended to do the same but then heard her own voice before she realized she’d chosen to speak.