"Twice" by Mitch Albom, an internationally renowned and bestselling author, journalist, screenwriter, playwright, radio and television broadcaster, and musician, is our "GMA" Book Club pick for October.
Albom's books have collectively sold 42 million copies worldwide and have been published in 51 territories and in 48 languages around the world, according to a press release.
His latest novel, "Twice" follows Alfie Logan, a frail older man arrested for allegedly cheating at a casino roulette wheel.
"Through a detective's curious interrogation, Alfie confesses his astounding life story, which unfolds through a gripping narrative that jumps across time," a synopsis reads.
This month, we are also teaming up with Little Free Library to give out free copies in Times Square and at 150 locations across the U.S. and Canada. Since 2009, more than 300 million books have been shared in Little Free Libraries across the world. Click here to find a copy of ''Twice" at a Little Free Library location near you.
Read along with us and join the conversation all month on our Instagram account, @GMABookClub, and with #GMABookClub.
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It was my idea to visit Yaya Nina, seeing as we were in Miami and so close. My dad agreed without much fuss.
"She might not recognize you," he warned.
"Why not?"
"It's been eleven years. I don't know what kind of shape she's in."
We had to look up the facility in the phone book. It was a single-level, red brick structure, with pale green carpet and easy-listening music playing over the speakers.
We asked for my grandmother at the front desk.
When they brought her out, she was in a wheelchair, and since we hadn't called ahead, I thought she'd be surprised to see us.
But she quickly took my hand and smiled, causing her face to wrinkle into so many lines, it seemed as if she were drawn with an Etch A Sketch.
Her cheekbones nearly pushed through her tanned skin, and her straight hair, silver and white, still hung over her forehead in bangs. Her grip was strong.
"You, I want to talk to," she told me, ignoring my dad.
She motioned the orderly to take us down the hall, and I looked back at my father, who nodded as if to say, do as she wants.
We left him in the lobby, went to her room together, and started talking.
That conversation changed everything.
"You got big," she said.
"Yeah."
"Very tall now."
"I guess."
"And what are you going to do with your life?"
"I don't know. I like music."
"Mmm. Like your mother."
She pointed to a glass of water, which I retrieved from her bureau.
She took a long sip, then put the glass down so deliberately, you'd have thought it contained explosives.
"So, Alfie," she said. "Got any cigarettes?"
"Yaya!" I laughed. "They let you smoke in here?"
"Of course, not. That's why I asked."
"You have to understand," she suddenly blurted out, "I am very angry at your father! Keeping us apart all these years! Last time I saw you, you were a child. Now look! Look at what I missed! Terrible!"
Her voice rose to a frustrated pitch. "I shouldn't have screamed at him. But I couldn't help it! I was mad!"
"When did you scream at him?"
"Just now. When you came in."
"Yaya," I said softly, "you didn't say a word to him."
She waved her fingers dismissively.
"The first time. I reamed him out pretty good."
"What are you talking about?"
She stared straight at me, boring her eyes into mine. I felt myself shiver.
"You know what I'm talking about."
She grinned.
"You can do it, too."
It turned out, Boss, that my grandmother had this same power to do things twice.
So did her brother and her father, she said.
There was no explanation, other than it seemed to pass from a loved one just before they died, as if knowing, with death looming, that it needed a new host.
"When was your first time?" Yaya asked me.
"When Mom died."
"You saw that twice?"
"Yes."
She nodded and looked to the window. "Makes sense. It's usually a heartbreak that starts it. You want so badly to undo something. And then . . . it just happens."
She shrugged. "Your mother's power must have passed to you, just like my father's passed to me."
"Are we the only people in the world who can do this?"
"I don't know anyone else. Do you?"
"Yaya, I didn't know you could do it until just now."
"Yes, well." She clasped her hands together. "Now you do."
"When was your first time?" I asked.
She hesitated.
"When I was ten, just after my father passed away."
"What caused it?"
"There was this old man in our neighborhood. Always wore a brown suit and hat. One day, when my mother went to the grocery store, he came by the house. I was alone.
He asked if I liked chocolate cake. He said he would give me some if I did something for him."
"What?"
"Something a young girl should never be asked to do."
"Oh, no."
She looked down. "Before he could touch me, I ran out the door. I hid in the trees all day, crying and wishing I had gone with my mother. I fell asleep on the ground.
When I woke up, it was morning again and I was back in bed. Same clothes. Same breakfast. I thought I was dreaming.
This time I went to the store and held my mother's arm. I screamed when she tried to let go."
"Wow," I said.
"Yes."
"And after that, did you start time jumping?"
"Oh, eventually, yes. I did many things over. Not so much anymore."
She leaned in. Her voice lowered.
"Alfie?"
"Uh-huh?"
"Have you told your father?"
"No."
She leaned back. "Better that way."
"I guess."
We sat there in the hung silence that follows a confession. I suddenly felt so connected to my grandmother.
I also realized I had just taken part in one of her time jumps, and had no idea what had happened the first go-around, except that she'd yelled at my father.
So this was what it felt like for everyone I had affected that way. It felt like...nothing.
She tried to change the mood. She tapped my thigh.
"You got a girlfriend?"
"Not really...There's this one girl."
"Tell me."
"Not much to tell."
"You love her?"
"Come on, Yaya."
"What?"
"We haven't even gone out yet."
"Well." She straightened her dress in her lap. "Just be careful."
"What do you mean?"
"Your power. It's very tempting with love. You'll think you can make everything perfect."
She grabbed my hand. "You can't, OK? You understand? It doesn't work the same way!"
"Yes, Yaya."
She released her grip. Her shoulders drooped.
"I'm tired, Alfie. I didn't know you were coming. You should call next time, so I can drink some coffee before you get here."
She looked toward the door. "Call for the nurse."
"Wait, Yaya..."
There was so much more I wanted to know.
"Why do we only get to go back once?" I asked.
She scratched her head, then looked at her fingers.
"I really wish I had a cigarette."
"Yaya, did you hear me? Why do we only get to go back once?"
She sighed, as if it were obvious.
"Alfie, if you keep getting second chances, you won't learn a damn thing."
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From the book "Twice" by Mitch Albom, Copyright ©2025 by Mitch Albom. Reprinted by permission of Harper, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
