Page 1 of Father of the Bride

Chapter 1

Tuesday-Fourdaysuntil the wedding

As embarrassing as it was, Dr. Mark Bennett was the owner of a successful TikTok page.

If anyone asked him for his thoughts on that, he would say the app was partially responsible for the downfall of society, and that nothing good ever happened on it, and that he hoped the American government succeeded in getting it shut down for good.

But nobody asked him.

Kima and Nichelle, his nurses, insisted that he participate in the farce, as did his daughter’s best friend Samara, a PR exec. According to them, plastic surgeons all over the world used social media to drum up business. So, once a week, they forced him to get in front of the ring light and act like a puppet on a string.

The posts varied. Sometimes, he showed before and after surgery photos. Twice, he provided commentary on celebrities he’d never worked on. He wasn’t comfortable with that at all, but those were two of his most popular videos. Mostly, he gave tips on beauty and aging.

He’d only danced once, and once was enough.

If Kima and Nichelle had their way, he’d be doing two-a-days like he was in the gym. But they weren’t getting their way on that.

“Alright, are we done with this foolishness?” he groused.

Kima, who was quite used to his grumpy demeanor on video days, simply laughed and shrugged him off.

“I need one more take of Nichelle handing you your coffee,” she insisted.

Mark shook his head at the absolute Gen Z of it all. Brooklyn, his only daughter, was twenty-five, which left him way too familiar with their antics. But at least she was amaturetwenty-five. Worlds away from most of his young staff. Her upcoming wedding was proof of that.

“Yall know I got shit to do, right?”

Nichelle bounced back over with his favorite EMORY mug. It was empty, of course, just like the whole deal. “One more take, boss. Then you can go.”

“I could go right now, actually. I don’t have to do this.”

“We’re almost done. And yes, you do.” She fiddled with a button on the ring light. “Business is up thirty percent since we started this account.”

“So we’re just pulling stats out of our asses now, huh? Listen, stick to medicine. Data analysis isn’t your strong suit.”

Nichelle, also used to his crap, just laughed and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Counting down. Five, four, three, two…”

Mark packed the last of his papers in his brown leather briefcase as his admin, Shara, finished her checklist.

“Mr. Stark said he needs to move out a month, so I scheduled him for the Thursday after you come back.”

“Perfect.” He took a deep breath, scanning his office for anything he may have missed before finally bringing his eyes to rest on Shara. Her thick bifocals reflected the light of the setting sun. “So I’ll be seeing you Saturday, then?”

“Of course,” she said, her face lighting up. “I can’t wait to see that baby walk down the aisle.”

“I know.”

“I’m gonna cry just thinking about it.”

“Please don’t,” he said, laughing for the first time all day. “I’m already teetering on the edge, Shar. If I see you break…matter of fact, I’m not even gonna look at you during the ceremony.”

She tucked a lock of gray hair behind her ear as their eyes met, allowing their shared pain to simmer unspoken. Mark felt a rush of relief; he didn’t feel like reliving his tragedy right now.

“So…are we gonna talk about it?”

But Shara seemed content to make him live through his current disaster.

“Nope,” was his only response.

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