Curbside Pickup

One: Ask Dr. NerdLove

THANKS FOR CHOOSING TO TRY *CURBSIDE PICKUP*! Be sure to vote this chapter if you like it, and leave comments!  

If a wedding was supposed to be a time of joy, why was Ellie's thumb running up and down her bouquet's plastic handle? Sure, she could be nervous, but using her bridal bouquet as a worry stone was silly. Today was a day for joy. Of course it was!

Breathe. Her lungs slammed against the construction of the gown's bodice. Everything was perfect, wasn't it? She should be happy, she should be thrilled. Her heart gave a little hiccup and she sighed with happiness. Happiness, not dread. Smile!

Her eyes wandered the sanctuary, hoping for distraction. Taking in the rose window above the entrance and the holly cascades wired to the pews' ends, Ellie imagined a mental to-do list. Flowers, done, gorgeous. Check.

Bernard thought it was too ornate. "It all has to be torn down before the next wedding," he'd complained. "After the wedding, it's trash." Well, when the guests all flocked next door to the reception, he'd learn she'd been right all along.

And swoon, he rocked that dinner jacket they'd finally settled on. Had he been right? Was it too metrosexual? With his BernieFit sculpted body, though, Ellie was personally smitten. Check.

Her eyes slid right to her flower girl, cuddled under her father's arm in the front pew. She lifted her eyebrows to Grace and gave her wrist a little shake. The beaded bracelet her niece had made slid back on her arm. Something new and blue. Check.

Ellie breathed easier as her panic began to subside. She realized she'd pressed her lips together and, self-conscious, she eased them apart. She was testing the application. Right? Her mind continued to skitter through the checklist...

Her three older sisters, all lovely in scarlet, stood at her left: check. The attendant groomsmen, all in crisp white tie, stood right: likewise, check. Priest, organ, congregation - everything, exactly as she'd planned it, over the weeks and months of engagement. Lovely, sedate, exact. Just what a perfect wedding should look like. All that struggle, every bit of haggling and arguing and drama was worth it. 

Check.

Why had she been worried? This wasn't Charlie, or Julian, or Michael, her former fiancés. Those men were history, and the wedding gods were smiling. They'd been cute, they'd been interested, they'd hit the road. Now, at last, she was on the alter. With Bernard.

She heard the opening prayers and the readings. So lovely. Everything was perfect.

Right?

Deep down, her gut quivered in anxiety. Still.

No! Ellie shook off the feeling. Check was the right thought, the better thought. Maybe, even perfect.

An unseemly clatter to one side reminded her of the not-so-check part of the ceremony: the video cameras. Bernard hadn't been happy with a single camera. He'd hired a crew to record their wedding, and not because he was sentimental. He hadn't even asked! By the time she found out, it was a fait accompli.

"We want this, babe." She remembered Bernard's businesslike explanation. "We are the power couple of fitness, and you know it. Health and fitness. We want this image pinned in people's brains." He thumped a fist in his palm. "We are going to own those clients."

Well, of course. Ellie was flexible wasn't she? After all, she wanted the best for the man who was to be her husband, to be the best partner in his life and work. This was a small price to pay, right?

Itty bitty check, at the bottom of her list.

She heard the magic words: "Do you, Bernard Alton, take – "