Mind Over Matter

pushed away from the tree.
    Determined to keep up, she strode along beside him, up the winding dirt path, until sweat trickled down her back. Her leg muscles whimpered, reminding her she’d neglected her weekly tennis games for over a month. At last, aching and exhausted, she dropped down on a rock.
    “That’s it. I give up.”
    “Another hundred yards and we start circling back.”
    “Nope.”
    “A.J., it’s shorter to go around this way than to turn around.”
    Shorter? She shut her eyes and asked herself what had possessed her to let him drag her through the woods. “I’ll just stay here tonight. You can bring me back a pillow and a sandwich.”
    “I could always carry you.”
    She folded her arms. “No.”
    “How about a bribe?”
    Her bottom lip poked out as she considered. “I’m always open to negotiations.”
    “I’ve got a bottle of cabernet sauvignon I’ve been saving for the right moment.”
    She rubbed at a streak of dirt on her knee. “What year?”
    “Seventy-nine.”
    “A good start. That might get me the next hundred yards or so.”
    “Then there’s that steak I took out of the freezer this morning, the one I’m going to grill over mesquite.”
    “I’d forgotten about that.” She brought her tongue over her top lip and thought she could almost taste it. “That should get me halfway back down.”
    “You drive a hard bargain.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Flowers. Dozens of them.”
    She lifted a brow. “By the time we get back, the florist’ll be closed.”
    “City-oriented,” he said with a sigh. “Look around you.”
    “You’re going to pick me flowers?” Surprised, and foolishly pleased, she lifted her arms to twine them around his neck. “That should definitely get me through the front door.”
    Smiling, she leaned back as he stepped off the path to gather blossoms. “I like the blue ones,” she called out, and laughed as he muttered at her.
    She hadn’t expected the weekend to be so relaxed, so easy. She hadn’t known she could enjoy being with one person for so long. There were no schedules, no appointments, no pressing deals. There were simply mornings and afternoons and evenings.
    It seemed absurd that something as mundane as fixing breakfast could be fun. She’d discovered that spending the time to eat it instead of rushing into the morning had a certain appeal. When you weren’t alone. She didn’t have a script or a businessletter to deal with. And she had to admit, she hadn’t missed them. She’d done nothing more mind-teasing in two days than a crossword puzzle. And even that, she remembered happily, had been interrupted.
    Now he was picking her flowers. Small, colorful wildflowers. She’d put them in a vase by the window where they’d be cozy and bright. And deadly.
    For an instant, her heart stopped. The birds were silent and the air was still as glass. She saw David as though she were looking through a long lens. As she watched, the light went gray. There was pain, sharp and sudden, as her knuckles scraped over the rock.
    “No!” She thought she shouted, but the word came out in a whisper. She nearly slipped off the rock before she caught herself and stumbled toward him. She gasped for his name twice before it finally ripped out of her. “David! No, stop.”
    He straightened, but only had time to take a step toward her before she threw herself into his arms. He’d seen that blank terror in her eyes before, once before, when she’d stood in an old empty room watching something no one else could see.
    “Aurora, what is it?” He held her close while she shuddered, though he had no idea how to soothe. “What’s wrong?”
    “Don’t pick any more. David, don’t.” Her fingers dug hard into his back.
    “All right, I won’t.” Hands firm, he drew her away to study her face. “Why?”
    “Something’s wrong with them.” The fear hadn’t passed. She pressed the heel of her hand against her chest as if to push it out. “Something’s wrong with them,” she repeated.
    “They’re just flowers.” He showed her what he held in his hands.
    “Not them. Over there. You were going to pick those over there.”
    He followed the direction of her gaze to a large sunny rock with flowers around the perimeter. He remembered he’d just been turning in their direction when her shouts had stopped him. “Yes, I was. Let’s have a look.”
    “No.” She grabbed him again. “Don’t touch them.”
    “Calm down,” he said quietly enough, though