“Yes,” Andie began, and Carter took the curl from Alice and put it in the fire. May took one sorrowful look back and vanished, and Andie said, “Wait! May! I’m sorry. Good luck… May?”

The curl turned to ash, and there was nothing there.

“Oh,” she said, looking at the kids. “She’s gone. Are you all right?”

Carter turned and left.

“We’re okay,” Alice said, and followed him.

“Wait a minute,” Andie said, but they’d just lost their aunt, really lost her this time, and if they wanted to talk about it, they’d tell her. Hell, I want to talk about it, she thought, but the only person she really wanted to talk to was North and he was throwing up with a concussion.

So she got boxes and went through the nursery cupboards, packing up everything she found that was theirs, and when the kids came back half an hour later, she said, “I’m packing. We can go to Columbus now, right?”

Carter nodded, and she took a deep breath, just from the relief of it all.

“It’ll be okay now,” she told Carter, but his face was a mask again. “You’ll like Columbus,” she told Alice.

Alice nodded and held Rose Bunny closer.

Andie kissed her cheek, and Alice suddenly wrapped her arms around Andie’s neck and pulled her down.

“I love you, Andie,” she said.

“I love you, too, baby,” Andie said, blinking back tears. “It’ll all be all right now, I swear.”

Alice nodded and said, “Can I have a box? I’ll pack my clothes.”

“There’s more in the hall,” Andie told her, thinking, It’s safe to go into the hall because the ghosts are gone.

When she turned, Carter was watching them, his jaw set.

“I love you, too,” she told him. “I know you don’t believe me, but I’ll make it all right for you, I swear.”

“I believe you,” he said, and went out to the hall and picked up two boxes, even as Flo came up and said, “Oh, honey, be careful of your hand.”

It was going to be all right. They were packing. It was over.

And May was gone forever, all that gaiety and passion burned away in an instant.

I’m sorry, May, Andie thought, and went to pack her own things.

By eight, the kids were packed, fed, and put to bed, ready to leave the next morning.

“I can’t believe we’re really going,” Andie said to North when she went into May’s bedroom. “How’s your head?”

“Bashed in,” North said, sitting up in bed. “But I’ve stopped throwing up. Tell me again why Carter hit me with a fire extinguisher?”

“Just get some sleep. You have a lot of stuff to move tomorrow.”

“Are the kids okay?”

Andie nodded. “I think they’re relieved, but it’s hard to tell. They had a rough day.”

“They’re good kids,” North said. “We’ll take them home and keep them safe, and in a while, they’ll be-”

“Normal? Not a chance.” Andie climbed into bed beside him and stretched. “God, I’m tired.”

She reached over and turned out the light and settled in beside him. There was a long silence and then he said, “You’re coming back, too, right? You’re moving in with us?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Good.”

She lay in the darkness next to him, and thought about the future. She’d been concentrating so long on getting the kids out of the house, and now they were going to be out of the house and she had to look at the next problem. No matter what North said, he was going to get caught up in work again, she had to accept that. He was a hard worker, that was one of the things she loved about him. She could make him eat with the kids every night, she could force him to remember them, but she was going to have to live with him spending more time with his desk than he did with her. This has to be enough, she thought, and decided it was. Even if it all happened the way it did the last time, this time she could stand it. She was different now.

North’s voice came out of the dark. “You all right?”

“I’m just fine.” She rolled to face him and felt his hand slide under her waist. “I’m just thinking about the future.”

“It’ll be different this time,” he said. “I swear, I won’t make the same mistakes.”

“Me, either. We’ll make different ones, though. But it doesn’t matter, I’ll stick this time. We were just too young and we got married too fast. And I was unrealistic. I wanted to be adored, and that’s just not your style. Which I would have known if I’d gotten to know you first. I was just… immature.” She sighed. “And then I got the guy who adored me with Will and I didn’t like that, either. I don’t know what I want. Besides you. I want you. I know I want you.”

He was quiet for so long that she thought he’d fallen asleep, and then he said, “I lost your scent first. I kept your pillowcase unwashed for three weeks and then Lydia sent in the cleaners and it was gone. It’s hard to remember scent. I dated a woman for a month once, Lydia and Southie despised her, and I didn’t like her much, but I couldn’t let go until Southie pointed out that she used the same shampoo you did. Sense memory. She smelled like you.”

“Oh,” Andie said.

“I kept your voice longer. At least a year. And after that I got a tape, you’d done that morning show for the school, remember? I got the tape so I could hear your voice. Close my eyes and think you were in the same room. But it was a tape and it didn’t sound quite right and I lost your voice.”

“North-”

“I never lost your face.”

Andie went up on one elbow to face him, not sure what was going on. “It’s okay.”

“I adored you,” North said. “I just didn’t tell you. You were the most amazing thing that had ever happened to me. Nothing else like you in my world before or since. I was crazy about you. I still am. Ten years later you walk into my office and I see you and it’s like the first time, I can’t think, I can’t talk, I just need you with me. It makes me crazy, but now that I’ve got you back… You’re everything, Andie. I should have told you that before.”

“Oh,” Andie said, swallowing back tears. “I still have your T-shirt. The one I bought you at the Jackson Browne concert. You used to sleep in it and when I left, I took it because I wanted something of yours. I’ve never washed it. I keep finding it every time I unpack and I think, ‘I should throw that out,’ but I can’t. And I still have the ring.” She held up her hand, knowing he couldn’t see it in the dark but wanting to show him anyway.

“It’s a terrible ring,” North said, his voice thick.

“I love this ring,” Andie said, her throat thick, too. “I love you. I loved you then, too, so much. That’s why it hurt so much when you left me, I loved you so much and I thought you didn’t love me, but I’ve never stopped loving you, North, never even for a moment, I-”

He pulled her to him and kissed her hard, and she clung to him.

“This time we’ll do it right,” he said to her. “We won’t do it over, we’ll do it new. This time, we’ll make it.”

“Yes, please,” she said, and believed it.

“I swear,” he said and kissed her again, and she moved against him, wanting him again.

“How bad does your head feel?” she whispered to him.

“It feels fine,” he said and pulled her down to him and loved her.

Andie got downstairs early the next morning in time to catch Isolde before she left. “Call me when you get to Columbus,” she said, handing Andie her card. “If you ever need help. Or make banana bread and want company.”

“I will do that,” Andie said, and meant it.

Then she went back into the house, passing North and Southie and Carter carrying boxes to the cars, and stopped in the sitting room to deal with her last loose end.

She said, “Dennis?,” prepared to convince him to embrace the afterlife.

Good morning.

“Dennis, we’re leaving.”

Yes, I know.

Andie smiled at where she thought he was. “I’m thinking maybe you should, too.”