Page 225 of A Matter of Time

The picture of the two of them would be etched in my mind forever. Aja lifting her head to receive his kiss, her eyes filled with him, and his arm around her waist, drawing her close as he bent to seal their lips together. Instantly, her arms went around his neck, and he clutched her tight. They were stunning together, the picture of what love looked like. There was an eruption of applause when they parted and were introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt, husband and wife. The thunderous sound consumed the silence from seconds before. I could not imagine a more perfect moment.

The reception, at the Drake Hotel in downtown Chicago, was lavish, money I could not even dream of having being spent to give Aja the day she had dreamed of since she was ten. There were six courses of food, accompanied by wine and champagne and any other beverage a guest could desire, ready to be created by not one, but three mixologists. People were in awe of the orchestra and the enormous dance floor and the thousands of candles that cast a warm glow through the room.

The first dance for the bride and groom was fluid precision and mesmerizing to watch. They went naturally together, blending seamlessly because they fit. When Aja danced with her father, no one did anything else but stare at the dashing man and his daughter. Dane floated across the floor with Aja’s mother, and the same was true. It was obvious from the way they all hugged afterward that this was a union that had both their approval and support. Not surprising, as it was hard to imagine any parent not wanting Dane for a son-in-law.

I knew that Mrs. Reid had wanted the mother-son dance with Dane that he had given to Aja’s mom, but Dane simply couldn’t have that. No one would be standing in for his mother, who he still missed, and certainly not Susan Reid. After much deliberation, Dane had invited his birth parents, along with his sister and two brothers, to come to his wedding, but it was me, without benefit of blood, who’d stood at his side. I was the one with the same name; I was the one he’d hugged tight after the ceremony. I was the one his wife called her new brother and who her parents saw as the entirety of the family Dane brought to the marriage.

I listened to the speeches. I was moved by Candace’s words to her sister, the bride, laughed at Jude’s to Dane, and when Dane and Aja stood and thanked the crowd for coming and celebrating with them, I was so happy for them that I stood and gave them the standing ovation with everyone else. When all seats had been retaken, Dane took a breath as Aja leaned into his side. I waved to the photographer, and he caught it before they moved apart. I had a feeling it was going to be one of the best of the night.

Before anything else happened, Alex stood and directed all attention to the screen at the side of the dance floor. When the curtain drew back, the images and the music began—the video montage of Dane and Aja, their families, their friends, the years before they met and then after. The last shot was of Dane on his knees in front of Aja as he held a rose up to her. They both looked at me, in an instant remembering the trip to Carmel and the picture I had snapped. I was pleased with the tears in the bride’s eyes and Dane’s clenched jaw as Aja’s favorite Stevie Wonder song, “I Was Made to Love Her,” filled the room. The applause came like a roar as the guests went wild. Aja’s mother was up and out of her seat in one fluid movement, rushing from her table to mine to take me in her arms. She understood at last why I had needed to go through her photo albums with her. When she let me go, I turned to the bride and groom and gestured for them to take the floor. Dane led his wife, her hand tucked in his, and his other lingered on my cheek a moment before they walked by.

After midnight, the orchestra retired and the DJ came in to keep the dancing going until the wee hours of the morning. Jackets and bow ties were shed, high heels were discarded, and the serious dancing began. I would have joined in, but there were small details that needed attention. I had to hand out the “swag,” as Aja called it—going from table to table to personally make sure everyone got a keepsake from the wedding—coordinate with the catering manager, and arrange for all the disposable cameras on every table to be picked up. Aja appreciated me, as she had not wanted a wedding planner. Maybe at her next wedding, she’d said, but not this one. We’d both laughed ourselves silly over that.

When I felt the arms wrap around my waist, I turned in her embrace and found the bride.

“Come dance with me.”

I smiled at her, and we went together to the floor. As always, the two of us together could not remain serious for even a minute. In her dress and my tuxedo, it translated to an over-the-top waltz. There were spins and dips, and we basically had everyone laughing and clapping and calling for an encore when we were done. She told me over and over how much she loved me, and when Dane came to part us, instead of taking her into his arms, he wrapped an arm around my neck and led me from the crowd back to the table.

We sat together, leaning forward, elbows on knees, talking quietly.

“So, it goes without saying, but still… I have the woman I love, the brother I love, friends I love…There is no one more blessed than me.”

I looked into his dark gray eyes, saw the warmth there, and nodded. “I’m sorry Mr. and Mrs. Harcourt couldn’t be here today to be with you.”

He nodded. “They are.”

“They would be so proud of you, Dane.”

His eyes absorbed me. “My family, the people who mean the world to me…are Aja and you.”

I smiled at him.

“I need you with me always.”

I nodded. “Same here.”

Hand on the back of my neck, he squeezed tight before he let go and stood. “Love you,” he said as he walked away. He barely got it out.

I sat back and watched him go, and there came a sudden feeling of absolute peace. I let my head fall back, my eyes closed, and just breathed.

“Take that.”

I heard the click of a shutter and opened my eyes to find Aja hovering on the other side of the table with Candace and Zora. I glanced at the photographer before returning my gaze to the bride. “What’re you doing?”

She let out a deep breath but said nothing.

“Jory,” Candace said, drawing my attention. “Baby, I had no idea you were so pretty.”

I chuckled and looked again at Aja.

“You are, you know.”

“What?”

“Beautiful,” she told me, motioning me over to her. “It’s funny, because you worried about standing up with the others, and the truth of the matter is that, Jory, honey, you are the beauty of the bunch.”

“You love me.” I smiled wide, wrapping her up in my arms. “You’re a little biased.”