Mind Over Matter

step.
    She was so lovely. He thought she looked like something that had stepped out of a dream. The breeze that tinted the air with the scents of the garden teased the lace at her throat. As she walked to him, he thought of every empty hour he’d spent away from her.
    “I’m glad you came.”
    He’d told himself he wouldn’t, then he’d been dressed and driving south. She’d pulled him there, through her thoughts or through his own emotions, it didn’t matter. “You seem to have it all under control.”
    She had nothing under control. She wanted to reach out to him, to tell him, but he seemed so cool and distant. “Yes, we’re nearly ready to start. As soon as I get the rest of these people seated, I can go in for Clarissa.”
    “I’ll take care of them.”
    “You don’t have to. I—”
    “I told you I would.”
    His clipped response cut her off. A.J. swallowed her longings and nodded. “Thanks. If you’ll excuse me, then.” She walked away, into the house, into her own room, where she could compose herself before she faced her mother.
    Damn it! He swung away, cursing her, cursing himself, cursing everything. Just seeing her again had made him want to crawl. He wasn’t a man who could live on his knees. She’d looked so cool, so fresh and lovely, and for a moment, just a moment, he’d thought he’d seen the emotions he needed in her eyes. Then she’d smiled at him as though he were just another guest at her mother’s wedding.
    He wasn’t going to go on this way. David forced himself to make polite comments and usher well-wishers to their seats. Today, before it was over, he and A. J. Fields were going to come to terms. His terms. He’d planned it that way, hadn’t he? It was about time one of his plans concerning her worked.
    The orchestra A.J. had hired after auditioning at least a half-dozen played quietly on a wooden platform on the lawn. A trellis of sweet peas stood a few feet in front of the chairs. Composed and clear-eyed, A.J. walked through the garden to take her place. She glanced at Alex and gave him one quick smile of encouragement. Then Clarissa, dressed in dusky rose silk, stepped out of the house.
    She looks like a queen, A.J. thought as her heart swelled. The guests rose as she walked through, but she had eyes only for Alex. And he, A.J. noted, looked as though no one else in the world existed but Clarissa.
    They joined hands, and they promised.
    The ceremony was short and traditional. A.J. watched her mother pledge herself, and fought back a sense of loss that vied with happiness. The words were simple, and ultimatelyso complex. The vows were timeless, and somehow completely new.
    With her vision misted, her throat aching, she took her mother in her arms. “Oh, be happy, Momma.”
    “I am. I will be.” She drew away just a little. “So will you.”
    Before A.J. could speak, Clarissa turned away and was swept up in an embrace by her new stepchildren.
    There were guests to feed and glasses to fill. A.J. found keeping busy helped put her emotions on hold. In a few hours she’d be alone. Then she’d let them come. Now she laughed, brushed cheeks, toasted and felt utterly numb.
    “Clarissa.” David had purposely waited until she’d had a chance to breathe before he approached her. “You’re beautiful.”
    “Thank you, David. I’m so glad you’re here. She needs you.”
    He stiffened and only inclined his head. “Does she?”
    With a sigh, Clarissa took both of his hands. When he felt the intensity, he nearly drew away. “Plans aren’t necessary,” she said quietly. “Feelings are.”
    David forced himself to relax. “You don’t play fair.”
    “She’s my daughter. In more ways than one.”
    “I understand that.”
    It took her only a moment, then she smiled. “Yes, you do. You might let her know. Aurora’s an expert at blocking feelings, but she deals well with words. Talk to her?”
    “Oh, I intend to.”
    “Good.” Satisfied, Clarissa patted his hand. “Now I think you should try the quiche. I wheedled the recipe out of the caterer. It’s fascinating.”
    “So are you.” David leaned down to kiss her cheek. A.J. all but exhausted herself. She moved from group to group, sipping champagne and barely tasting anything from the impressive display of food. The cake with its iced swans andhearts was cut and devoured. Wine flowed and music played. Couples danced on the lawn.
    “I thought you’d like to know I read Steiger’s script.” After