Mind Over Matter

should go to him.”
    “I think you should do what’s in your heart.”
    Her heart. Her heart was broken open. She wondered why everyone couldn’t see what was in it. “It sounds so easy.”
    “And it’s the most frightening thing in the world. We can test, analyze and research psychic phenomena. We can set up labs in some of the greatest universities and institutions in the world, but no one but a poet understands the terror of love.”
    “You’ve always been a poet, Momma.” A.J. sat down beside her again, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder. “Oh, God, what if he doesn’t want me?”
    “Then you’ll hurt and you’ll cry. After you do, you’ll pick up the pieces of your life and go on. I have a strong daughter.”
    “And I have a wise and beautiful mother.” A.J. leaned over to pick up both glasses of wine. After handing one to Clarissa, she raised hers in a toast. “What shall we drink to first?”
    “Hope.” Clarissa clinked glasses. “That’s really all there is.”
     
    A.J. changed in the bedroom her mother always kept prepared for her. It hadn’t mattered that she’d spent only a handful of nights in it over nearly ten years; Clarissa had labeled it hers, and hers it remained. Perhaps she would stay there tonight, after the wedding was over, the guests gone and the newlyweds off on their honeymoon. She might think better there, and tomorrow find the courage to listen to her mother’s advice and follow her heart.
    What if he didn’t want her? What if he’d already forgotten her? A.J. faced the mirror but closed her eyes. There were too many “what ifs” to consider and only one thing she could be certain of. She loved him. If that meant taking risks, she didn’t have a choice.
    Straightening her shoulders, she opened her eyes and studiedherself. The dress was romantic because her mother preferred it. She hadn’t worn anything so blatantly feminine and flowing in years. Lace covered her bodice and caressed her throat, while the soft blue silk peeked out of the eyelets. The skirt swept to a bell at her ankles.
    Not her usual style, A.J. thought again, but there was something appealing about the old-fashioned cut and the charm of lace. She picked up the nosegay of white roses that trailed with ribbon and felt foolishly like a bride herself. What would it be like to be preparing to bond yourself with another person, someone who loved and wanted you? There would be flutters in your stomach. She felt them in her own. Your throat would be dry. She lifted a hand to it. You would feel giddy with a combination of excitement and anxiety. She put her hand on the dresser to steady herself.
    A premonition? Shaking it off, she stepped back from the mirror. It was her mother who would soon promise to love, honor and cherish. She glanced at her watch, then caught her breath. How had she managed to lose so much time? If she didn’t put herself in gear, the guests would be arriving with no one to greet them.
    Alex’s children were the first to arrive. She’d only met them once, the evening before at dinner, and they were still a bit awkward and formal with one another. But when her future sister offered to help, A.J. decided to take her at her word. Within moments, cars began pulling up out front and she needed all the help she could get.
    “A.J.” Alex found her in the garden, escorting guests to chairs. “You look lovely.”
    He looked a little pale under his tan. The sign of nerves had her softening toward him. “Wait until you see your bride.”
    “I wish I could.” He pulled at the knot in his tie. “I have toadmit I’d feel easier if she were here to hold on to. You know, I talk to millions of people every night, but this…” He glanced around the garden. “This is a whole different ball game.”
    “I predict very high ratings.” She brushed his cheek. “Why don’t you slip inside and have a little shot of bourbon?”
    “I think I might.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I think I just might.”
    A.J. watched him make his way to the back door before she turned back to her duties. And there was David. He stood at the edge of the garden, where the breeze just ruffled the ends of his hair. She wondered, as her heart began to thud, that she hadn’t sensed him. She wondered, as the pleasure poured through her, if she’d wished him there.
    He didn’t approach her. A.J.’s fingers tightened on the wrapped stems of her flowers. She knew she had to take the first