LGBTQ+ Romance Short Story: Blossoms and Puddles

About this story:

When Taz planned the perfect proposal, he imagined blossoms, sunlight, and a moment worthy of the man he loved. What he got instead was mud! “Blossoms and Puddles” is an LGBTQ+ romance short story about imperfect moments, family traditions, and the kind of love that grows stronger — and funnier — with every retelling.

 

The living room buzzed with overlapping conversations, the kind of warm, rising chatter that made the whole house feel alive. Ding-dong-ding rang the doorbell. Thomas took Maybellina's hands. "Ooh, new guests. I wonder who it is." He and the little girl set off down the hallway to the front door, the little girl skipping ahead and pulling her grandfather behind her. At the door, Thomas picked up Maybellina and opened the door, revealing an elderly woman in a smart pant suit carrying a gift-wrapped box in one hand and a camera in the other. 

"I'm here!" she said. She held up the camera. "I brought the good lens for this!"

"Oh, Donna. I'm so glad you made it." Thomas leaned in to give the woman a one-armed hug and kiss on the cheek. Maybellina reached for the present.

"Would you like to carry this into the house for me?" Donna asked the little girl, who nodded. Thomas put her down and she raced down the hall with her prize held in both hands. The adults followed along behind, arm in arm.

"Wow, the house smells amazing. Do I smell Taz's famous lasagna?"

"He's been slaving in the kitchen all day!" Thomas replied.

In the living room, people stood and sat around the room, chatting with drinks in hand. Through an archway was the dining room where a pile of presents stood on the sideboard. On the table were an array of dishes with everything from little sandwiches, cheese, crackers, and olives to an exceptionally large cake decorated with red and white blossoms.

A man bustled through the swinging door that led to the kitchen. He held a steaming casserole dish which he placed on the table. He stood looking over the food with one hand on his chin in thought.

"Donna's here," Thomas said.

"Should I bring out the buns?" Taz asked. 

"There's plenty."

"I should bring out the buns." Taz turned to go back into the kitchen, but Thomas stopped him.

"There's plenty," he repeated. "Donna is here and everyone wants to see us. Come enjoy the party."

Taz took one last look at the table and then nodded. He pulled off the apron tied around his waist and draped it over a dining room chair. "You're right. It's our party, after all."

Thomas laughed and took Taz by the arm. In the living room, a cheer went up when the couple arrived. "It's about time!" shouted one of their friends. 

Maybellina raced up and took Taz by the arm. She tugged him over to an empty chair. "Here. Sit here with me!" Taz grinned and sat down. The little girl immediately sat in his lap. "Tell us the story, please. Please, Grandpa, pleaaaasssseeeeeee!" she said, bouncing up and down.

Taz frowned at his granddaughter. "Which story is that?" he asked. 

"The funny one. The one where grandad Thomas fell in the swamp!" There were chuckles around the room.

Taz looked around the room at all the expectant faces. "Okay, okay. Settle down." he said. Maybellina stopped bouncing. Taz pointed through the doorway at the food on the table. "Do you know why the cake is decorated with flowers?" he asked her.

"Because they're pretty?" she asked. More laughter from the spectators.

“Well, yes, they are,” Taz said, “but those blossoms mean something. They always have. Let me take you back to the morning it happened…” Maybellina settled back in her grandfather's lap for the story.

Chapter 2: The morning of the story

Taz paced the home office, one hand with the phone receiver to his ear, the other hand fiddled with a black box. "What about the weather?" he asked. Before the person he was speaking to could respond, another man bustled into the room, wearing just a pair of boxers, carrying a suit on a hanger.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

Taz startled at the interruption and the box flew out of his hand. He fumbled for it, almost losing the phone receiver in the process, but he didn't capture the box, and it hit the floor and rolled under the desk.

"What do you think of this suit? Will it do?"

"Thomas," Taz responded absently as he crawled under the desk. "You are far better at picking out your clothes than I am. I'm sure that will be perfect."

Thomas stood holding the suit out and looking it over with a calculating stare. "I've been wanting a reason to wear it. Hmm," he murmured to himself. With a snap of his fingers, he turned away. "You're right!"

"Are you still there?" Taz asked into the phone. "Sorry, that was Thomas. He almost saw!" He listened for a moment. "The box went flying." There was a pause. "Let me check." He opened the box. "Yup, all good. See you in an hour." He placed the phone received back in the cradle and the box in his pocket. In the mirror on the back of the office door, he checked his reflection. His own suit was dark grey with a navy tie and a grey shirt. His hair was a little mussed from running his fingers through it, but mussed hair was nothing new. He took a deep breath and went to find Thomas.

Chapter 3: Driving

In the car, Taz taps his fingers on the steering wheel as he glares at the traffic before him.

"Is everything alright at work?" Thomas asked.

Taz doesn't respond. His mind kept circling the same fear: what if the moment wasn’t perfect? What if Thomas laughed? What if he dropped the ring? He’d waited years for this — he wanted it to be perfect, for both of them. "Have you ever seen such traffic? Where are all these people going?"

Thomas laughed. "They're probably all going the same place we are!" Taz harrumphed. "Wouldn't that be hilarious?"

"It would not!" Taz replied with uncharacteristic venom.

"Hey, you're not supposed to be the curmudgeon. I am." When Taz didn't look away from the traffic, Thomas put his hand on his partner’s arm. "Hey, are you ok?" he asked in earnest.

"What? Oh! Oh, yes, I'm just.... I'm just worried about Donna."

"Donna? Isn't she meeting us there?"

"Yeah, but she's... well, you know she just broke up with William. I think it's been harder on her than she's letting on."

"Is that who you were talking with this morning?"

Taz looked away from the traffic when Thomas looked in the mirror on the back of the sun visor, checking his hair. "Oh, you saw that did you?" Suddenly, Taz noticed what Thomas was wearing for the first time. "Why on EARTH would you pick that suit for today of all days?"

"What's wrong with it?" Thomas asked, brushing his fingers over the cream-colored fabric. "Don't you just love the red tie with the cream?"

"There's nothing wrong with it, exactly." Taz replied.

"And it goes perfectly with yours. The pictures will be fabulous."

Taz smiled. "That they will," he replied. Then, he frowned. "Thomas, I need you to know—"

"The traffic is moving," Thomas said, pointing ahead.

Taz shook his head and turned his attention back to driving.

Chapter 4: The orchard

“Cherry picking?” asked Thomas. 

“Cherry picking,” replied Taz. “I didn’t pick it. Donna did. Apparently, it's all the rage to take family pictures in the spring when the blossoms are at their peak. Since Donna is trying to get her photography business off the ground, I said we would help her out.” At the look on Thomas' face, he sing-songed, “Do this and you’ll get a present.” 

Thomas gave Taz a peck on the cheek and smiled slyly. “I’ll be good.” He got out of the car, straightening his cream pants and the sharp creases of his sleeves.

Taz checked his pocket for the hundredth time. The small velvet box was still there. A peal of thunder grumbled in the distance and Taz looked up at the sky. "God, I hope it doesn't rain any more."

Thomas, who was already picking his way around the puddles dotting the parking lot, looked back. "I hope this light will be good enough for pictures."

"She claims this is best for getting the perfect pictures," Taz replied. He locked the car and jogged over to Thomas without worrying about the puddles at all. "I thought bright sunlight would be better, but she says you don't get the depth when it's really bright." At Thomas' look, Taz shrugged. "That's what she says."

There were other families crossing the parking lot, couples with kids, everyone dressed in their Sunday best, mothers trying to wrangle their kids, others, coming out of the orchard, letting them run back to the car or carrying little one's worn out from a morning of picture taking. Some people, returning to their cars, carried baskets of cherries. 

"Please don't make me pick cherries!" Thomas begged. "Cherry stains would never come out of this suit."

They reached the path through the trees, where the air smelled faintly of wet earth and sweet blossoms. Petals clung to the damp bark like confetti from a party the trees had thrown overnight. Thomas stepped forward and his foot skidded, forcing him into an awkward half‑split. “Absolutely not,” he muttered, clutching at a branch for balance.

Chapter 5: Donna

"Woah, there," a bright voice called out as a woman came out of the trees and held onto Thomas until he was steady. "Why would you wear dress shoes to a cherry farm?" she asked.

"Donna!" Taz gave the woman a kiss on both cheeks.

"I didn't KNOW I was coming to a cherry farm," Thomas replied. He gave Donna a hug. "This one wouldn't tell me anything." He nudged Taz in the side.

"Did you bring the—- oh, never mind!" She bit her lip and covered her mouth. Taz gave her a pointed stare, but Thomas didn't seem to notice. 

"So, where are we doing this thing?" he asked. 

Donna held up her camera. "I'm ready. We just have to find the right tree."

"The right tree?" asked Thomas. He looked around. "They all look the same to me."

"Oh, but aren't they beautiful?" Donna asked, linking her arm through his and setting off down the path. "Look at the blossoms."

"Look at the puddles," Thomas said, skirting the dirty water.

"Look at the blossoms in the puddles," Taz said from behind them. 

"You're right!" Donna said. She took her camera in both hands and took pictures of the small pink flowers floating in the puddle and others trampled in the dirt. "I love the contradiction there."

After a few more pictures, Donna dragged Thomas forward. “Look at that tree over there.” Thomas slipped around puddles left by the spring rain and scowled at the mud already spotting his favorite shoes.

“My gift better be something spectacular,” he muttered under his breath.

Chapter 6: Finding the right tree.

"How many more trees do we have to check?" Thomas asked as Donna dragged him around the orchard.

"Here we go," Donna said, but then looked back at Taz, who shook his head. "Nope, wait, I think that one is better," she pointed at another tree that looked exactly like the one they were at. "It's away from the other people," she said vaguely.

“Here! This is the spot,” Donna crowed. “Stand in front of that tree,” she commanded, pointing with her camera.

Thomas sidestepped around more puddles. Halfway to the tree, his heel slid again. This time he froze in place, arms out like a tightrope walker. “If I survive this orchard,” he said through clenched teeth, “I expect diamonds.” He made it to the spot Donna indicated and looked up at the blossoms above them. "It really is beautiful," he said, tilting his head back to take in the blossoms overhead.

"Yes, yes, it is," Taz replied quietly behind him. 

Chapter 7: The proposal

'Here goes,' Taz thought. He patted his pocket and stepped in a little closer. He didn't even notice the wet as he set one knee on the ground.

Thomas turned around. "Aren't you—? Oh, my god!" he put his hand to his chest.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Donna chanted, shifting her stance automatically to catch every angle, her camera clicking like applause.

Taz held up the velvet box. "Will you—?" 

Thomas stepped back, his mouth open in a silent O. His heel caught an exposed tree root. This time, windmilling his arms didn't help. The splash as Thomas landed in a large puddle covered the sound of Donna’s camera frantically clicking. Donna shrieked. Taz’s heart lurched — not because the moment was ruined, but because he suddenly realized it didn’t matter how it happened, only that it did. There was a moment where no one said a word. 

Finally, looking up from his muddy perch, Thomas grinned. "Yes! Obviously yes!

Chapter 8: A quiet moment

Taz helped Thomas up from the ground. He brushed a spot of mud off Thomas' face. 

"Don't bother," Thomas said. "I'm a mess."

Taz smiled and brushed his thumb across Thomas' cheek again. "You are beautiful."

Thomas stilled and they shared a gaze.

"When we met, it was like this, too," Taz said.

"It was raining. You were soaked. I leant you my umbrella."

"I'd never met anyone who put their name and telephone number on their umbrella." Taz laughed.

"You wouldn't have found me again if I hadn't," Thomas reminded him.

"Where would we be now?" Taz wondered and then, finally, he kissed Thomas in celebration.

Behind them, they could hear Donna blubbering. "That is the sweetest thing I've ever heard!" 

Chapter 9: Back in the present

Maybellina jumped off her grandfather's lap and dashed across the room to the wall of photographs. She was too short to reach the one she wanted, but she pointed up at the one in the middle. "That's the picture, right? Of that day?"

Thomas came forward and picked her up so that she could be eye level with the photograph. "Yes," he replied. "That is the day." He smiled at the picture of Taz, one knee in the mud and himself, sitting in a puddle, brown water soaking into his pants, mud speckling the rest of his suit and his face, his hair out of place. “That was the moment everything changed,” he said softly. “Not because it was perfect, but because it wasn’t.”

Maybellina looked at him with her head cocked to the side. "But you hate dirt, Grandad. You won't even let me come inside with my shoes on without following around me with the vacuum."

The family gathered around them laughed. Her mother came forward and took the girl in her arms. "That's because you are the dirtiest child who has ever lived!"

Across the room, Tas and Thomas shared a look, one that encompassed all that had happened before and since that day. A look full of promise and love.

"And that is why we go back to the orchard every year," said Taz.

"That's where it all began," said Thomas. "Mud and all."

Maybellina wriggled in her mother’s grasp and her mother set her down. "Can we have cake now?" 

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