7. Bud

It was grand opening day.

Flowers glistened in the bright spring morning, their blossoms bold and brilliant. Bunches of balloons danced in the breeze that blew through the open doors of the bustling store. While Aunt Bea's jukebox—which she had made Bo bring over in the little rig now that he was back from his trucking gig—pumped out Marvin Gaye's I Heard It Through the Grapevine.

"Yes ma'am, you heard it right here on the grapevine," declared Bea, standing outside with a rainbow feather boa around her neck, grabbing the attention of every passer-by with a fluffy feathery wave. "Bud's Blooms is officially open for business. Don't be a wallflower, come on in."

Inside, Mitch and Gage were busy blowing up balloons with the helium tank and tying them with ribbon.

Ginny was expertly maneuvering her way between the bloom-filled buckets and pretty pots to hand out balloons. "A yellow one for you, Mrs. Elwood, to go with your gorgeous hat. And for you, Mr. Perkins, a blue one to match your eyes." And every time she whizzed past me, she gave me a wink. "You're gonna make a fortune, Bud. I've got them eating out of the palm of my hand."

"Thanks, Ginny. But I don't need to make a fortune. I just wanna make people happy."

Meanwhile, Maggie was handing out coupons. "You're gonna love our Grand Opening special, Mrs. Wheeler. Buy two bouquets for the price of three."

I saw Mrs. Wheeler doing the math in her head. "That's not a bargain at all."

Maggie snatched the coupon back. "Then I'll give this to someone who appreciates it!"

Quickly I stepped in, handing the coupon back with an apologetic smile. "Actually, Mrs. Wheeler, it's three for the price of two. I also know how much you love your geraniums, I've seen them in the pots on your windowsill."

"You have?" Mrs Wheeler smiled back.

"They're exquisite. And I have a whole range of potted geraniums over here that you might like, some in orange and mauve."

"Oh, I don't have those colors."

"I know."

"Do show me."

I pointed out the geraniums to Mrs. Wheeler, then jumped on the cash register to serve customers.

"I'll take these roses for my wife," said Mr. Torres. "Tomorrow's her birthday."

"I have the perfect ribbon to wrap them with," I replied.

"This orchid will look perfect on my dining table," said Mrs. Gilbert. "I think I'll take two."

"Just remember not to overwater them."

"Irises are my favorites," said Mrs. Howell. "As pretty as a picture."

"That's exactly what Vincent Van Gogh thought too."

Mrs. Howell looked at me with curious delight. "Well listen to you. Here we all were thinking the only thing you knew anything about was motors and mufflers, when deep down there was a florist in you just waiting to bloom. You're a man of hidden talents, Bud. What other secrets are you hiding?"

Suddenly Bea was standing beside me at the register, a knowing smirk on her face. "Yes my darling Bud, what secrets are you hiding?"

I floundered as I rang up Mrs. Howell's purchase, hitting the wrong buttons so many times I ended up saying, "You know what, Mrs. Howell? This one's on the house. Enjoy."

As Mrs. Howell walked away even more delighted, I stole a quiet moment to turn to Bea. "You know, don't you."

"Know what?" Bea asked, flapping her eyelids innocently.

"You know that I'm… I'm…"

"Into flowers?"

"No, not that. You know that I'm… I'm…"

"Unable to finish sentences?"

"No! You know that I'm… I'm…"

"Spit it out, dear."

"That I've got the hots for my new neighbor."

Bea beamed. "You do? Have you even met him yet?"

"Yes. Last night. He popped my balloon."

"Oh, you go girl! You're not wasting any time, are you. How was he? Are you sore this morning? Do you need some cream?"

"No, I don't mean we did it. I mean he popped my balloon. Literally. I took him a balloon to introduce myself, to be friendly, to do the neighborly thing… and he popped it with a screwdriver."

"Oh, he likes you," Bea said with an excited shimmy of her shoulders.

"He does?"

"Absolutely. Popping your balloon with a screwdriver? He might as well have used an eggplant."

"I don't think you can pop a balloon with an eggplant."

"Oh sweetie, if you haven't done it, you're not trying hard enough." Her brow creased. "But tell me, Pennywise, why were you taking him a balloon in the first place?"

"I told you. To be nice. To welcome him to town. To brighten his day." I felt myself cave on the inside. "Okay, okay, he caught me spying on him through the window. But then I'm sure I caught him doing the same later."

Bea chuckled. "You mean to tell me the two of you are peeping on each other? You pair of perverts! That is the cutest darn thing I've ever heard."

"Bea, this is all way too new for me. I've never had a boyfriend before, I've never even had a girlfriend before. I've never been in love and now it's like my heart is…"

"Blossoming?"

"Yeah. Kinda."

"I know someone else who's been through something similar lately. Why don't you talk to him and get his advice."

"Who?"

"Who do you think?" Bea nodded over to Mitch as he tied a ribbon on another balloon. "After all, what are best friends for?"

As the sun began to set and the last of the customers left the store, I wiped my brow with the back of my hand. "Phewey! That was one heck of a day!"

"One heck of an awesome day," said Ginny as she wheeled her way over to me for a high five.

"Bud, that was fantastic!" said Gage, shaking my hand and pulling me in for a hug. "What a turnout. That cash register did not stop chinging away."

"Indeed," said Bea, wrapping me in her arms once Gage let me go. "They came. They saw. They shopped their asses off. I've never been prouder of this little town. And I've never been prouder of you, my darling Bud. What you can smell all around isn't just the sweet scent of flowers. That, my friend, is the sweet smell of success."

As soon as Bea was done hugging me, Maggie came dancing over. "Boss man, you rocked it today! You put the ‘grand' in ‘opening'. And I only caught three old ladies trying to steal stuff. They showed me some receipts, but I knew they looked totally forged to me, so I banned them from the store for life. I took pictures of them too, thought we'd start a ‘name and shame' wall. What do you think?"

"Why don't you just show me the pictures so I can see who they were and invite them back with a free coupon," I suggested.

Maggie rolled her eyes. "There you go, rewarding bad behavior again. But hey, you're the boss."

"You certainly are," said Mitch, coming in for the tightest hug of all. "You decided to be the boss of your dreams, and now you're the boss of your own store. I'm so damn proud of you."

I returned his back-slapping hug. "Thanks, dude. That means the world to me." As we began to part, I added, "Say, do you think you've got time to hang back for a beer with me?"

"I sure do!" exclaimed Maggie.

I gave her a smile and a wince. "Actually, Maggie-Pie. I was talking to Mitch. I think I need to have a chat with him about some stuff. Alone."

"Is everything okay?" asked Mitch.

"Yeah, totally. Everything's great. I just wanna have a… catch-up, that's all."

"Oh! No problemo at all," said Maggie, doing a terrible job of hiding her hurt feelings. "That's all good. I get it. You two go right ahead. I've got me some puppy chow to make, anyways. Something's gotta replace all those calories I burned off today, right?"

With a dramatic sniff, Maggie turned and hurried out of the flower shop.

"Oh shit, I think I've offended her."

Mitch shook his head. "Don't worry about her, she'll be fine. One spoonful of chow and she'll forget all about it."

"Speaking of chow," said Gage. "I'm gonna take Ginny home and start on dinner."

"Sure thing," Mitch said to his partner. "I can get a lift home with Bud once we're done. Is that okay Bud?"

"Oh yeah, sure."

Mitch gave his boyfriend a kiss and I felt pangs of admiration and jealousy in my chest.

As Gage and Ginny left, Aunt Bea gave a swish of her feather boa. "Well, my boys, after a truly magical day, it's time for this fairy godmother to make her exit. I have a bar to tend and whiskeys to pour. Have a lovely chat, and remember what my Grammy always said—live your truth and you'll always find a happy ending."

She blew us both a kiss and with one last feathery wave she left the shop and shut the door behind her.

I checked my watch. "Well, I guess it's time to put the Closed sign on the door. Better ring up the register too, although I probably need to check the instruction manual since it'll be my first time. Now, where the hell did I put that instruction book."

I started fussing about under the counter when Mitch took hold of my forearm.

"Bud, are you okay? What's up, you're acting weird all of a sudden."

I stopped, took a deep breath and asked, "You wanna come upstairs for a beer?"

Beers in hand, we sat side by side on the sofa that Bea had found in a back alley on our excursion to Eau Claire.

"The place looks amazing. You and Bea did a fantastic job finding all this stuff. Check out that wagon wheel coffee table… and the old record player in the corner…"

"Cool huh? Just like your mom's. It came complete with a record collection from the sixties and seventies."

"And is that an ashtray?"

"A-ha. It's in the shape of a UFO. Apparently, it came from Roswell. You press this button here and the hatch opens for your cigarette butts."

"Since when do you smoke?"

"I don't, you know that. Bea said that when cigarettes no longer exist, ashtrays will take over the art world. She reckons my spaceship-for-smokes will be worth more than a Banksy someday."

I swigged on my beer. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mitch looking at me.

"But you didn't ask me up here to talk about ashtrays, did you."

I gulped loudly. "Um. No, I guess not."

"So, what is it? You can tell me anything, you know that, right? Whatever's going on in your head, just let it out. I'm your best friend, no matter what."

"Um, okay. Well… here goes. You know how you grew up and everyone thought you were… then you turned out to be… and you came back… and then Gage turned out to be that too… when everyone thought he wasn't… and then the two of you… you know…"

"Are you trying to say that we both came out as gay?"

"Yes. Exactly. And nobody had a problem with it at all. Well, except Gage's nasty-ass stepmom, but it sounds like she has a problem with a lot of things. Anyway, ever since I decided to switch leaky radiators for daisies and daffodils… well, it got me thinking… and then the guy moved in next door… and there was a whole thing with a curtain rod that fell on my head and a balloon that he popped with his screwdriver and I'm pretty sure he hates me but geez he's… he's… he's just so… French."

Mitch shook his head. "Bud, slow down, you're not making any sense at all. What's going on?"

"Like I said, the guy next door, he's… French."

"So?"

"And he's… kinda grumpy."

"Then maybe you should steer clear of him."

"I'd like to but… well… oh fuck it… Mitch, he's the hottest thing I've ever laid eyes on and I can't stop spying on him through the window and he makes my palms sweaty and my knees weak and my heart beat so damn fast it makes my chest hurt."

"Oh!"

"I've never felt like this before Mitch. I don't even know what it is about him that drives me wild. Maybe it's his accent, or the sparkle in those dark angry eyes of his, or that gorgeous wavy black hair of his that's just begging me to run my fingers through it."

"Oh wow! You really like this guy."

"Which is ridiculous, I know. Hell, I've barely even spoken to him. We've had one exchange that ended with him calling me fake."

"Bud, you're the least fake person I know."

"I know, right? Everyone thinks I'm a really nice guy, right? Everyone except him… and for some reason that turns me on even more."

"Sounds kinda masochistic."

"I don't even know what that means. Is that a gay thing? I didn't even know I was gay until I got in the shower and he popped into my head and before I knew it I was… well, you know."

Mitch nodded. "I think I get the picture."

"I know I should be focusing on the flower shop, but ever since I laid eyes on him, I can't stop thinking about him. I'm so confused right now. Am I in love with a total stranger? Am I an idiot? Am I gay?"

Mitch put his beer on the wagon wheel coffee table and reached out to take my hand. "Bud, Bud, slow down. You're okay. It's okay to be confused. I was confused for a long time about Gage. I didn't know what I was feeling, or what he was feeling. The one thing I know now is, don't pigeonhole your emotions. Don't pigeonhole you." He patted my chest and smiled. "Whatever's going on in here, just let it happen. Don't give it labels. Don't give it a hard time. Just give it all the time and space it needs to work things out."

I took a deep breath. "Oh wow, thank you. You just lifted a ton of bricks off my shoulders. You're the best, you know that?"

I leaned in to hug him and he hugged me back. "You're the best too, Bud. Just take things slow. What will be, will be."

"You know, sometimes I think you're almost as wise as Aunt Bea's Grammy."

Mitch chuckled. "Surely not. I don't think anyone's as wise as that woman… although sometimes I wonder whether she's not just a figment of Bea's imagination."

"Well, for a figment she sure knows a thing or two. And so do you."

"Not really. I'm just bumbling through life like everyone else. But if I can help at all, let me know. I'm always here for you. Just give me a shout and I'll come running."

"Actually, there is something else you might be able to help with."

"What's that?"

"How the hell do we teach Maggie to be nice to customers?"

Mitch laughed. "Oh, sorry boss. That one's way above my pay grade."

I dropped Mitch off at their house by the lake, then headed back into town as twilight faded and the stars came out.

Ever since I was a kid, spring had always been my favorite season in Mulligan's Mill. The scent from the gardenias in the park drifted down Main Street, the rose bushes down by Percy's Pond bloomed brightly in different shades of red and pink, and the jasmine down near the mill turned the riverbanks so pure and white it almost looked like snow had fallen.

Deep down inside, I always knew I wanted to be a florist.

Did I always know I was gay too? Who knew?

"Like Mitch said," I murmured to myself as I drove through town. "I don't need a label. I just need to be Bud."

As I pulled off the bridge on Main Street and onto Riverside Promenade, I suddenly caught sight of my handsome new neighbor up a ladder outside the old bakery—or rather, his new patisserie—measuring up the faded old sign on the awning that read Flannery's Bakery.

For a moment I decided to look the other way and pretend I didn't see him before pulling around to the back of the flower shop. But he glanced in my direction before I could force myself to take my eyes off that adorable ass of his.

The second he spotted me I almost panicked completely and put my foot on the accelerator, ready to speed away like a bank robber in a getaway car.

Thankfully—before I had the chance to make a complete fool of myself—I came to my senses and decided to act completely normal.

I smiled and waved at him.

I even gave him a friendly toot of my horn.

He responded by sticking his nose in the air and quickly turning his back on me.

Unfortunately, he turned a little too fast…

Lost his balance atop the ladder…

And came crashing down with a shriek and a thud.

"Oh shit!" I braked so fast I hit my nose on the steering wheel, before pushing open my door and racing over to him. "Mr. Dupont? Are you okay? Let me help you."

I reached for him, but he slapped my hands away. "I'm perfectly fine, thank you very much. Although I dare say I'd be a whole lot better if you hadn't distracted me by honking your fucking horn. Are you trying to kill me?"

"No! Of course not." Fuck he was hot when he was mad. My heart was galloping. My palms got all clammy. God, just being this close to him was giving me a hard-on. "I was just trying to be friendly."

"You call that friendly? In France, we call it annoying." He picked himself up and dusted himself off, and I was damned if that wasn't a hard-on I could see straining inside his jeans too. "And by the way, my name is not Mr. Dupont. It's Monsieur Dupont if you don't mind… Monsieur Sanders."

"Please, call me Bud."

"I don't think so. Calling you by your first name would imply familiarity, whereas you and I are nothing but strangers."

"We're more than strangers. We're neighbors. And here in Mulligan's Mill, your neighbor is your friend. Well, except for Mrs. Roper and Maggie-Pie, but that's a story for another day."

"Please stop talking."

"Is it my accent? You don't like my accent, huh. I get it, because I think your accent is…" My mind went into a fluster trying to find any other word than ‘sexy'. Unfortunately, ‘sexy' was the only word in the English language that didn't vanish from my brain at that moment. Clearly, I couldn't say that word to his face without sounding like a complete freak, so I said nothing at all.

He looked at me impatiently. "Well? My accent is… what?"

"French," was the only word other than ‘sexy' that came to me.

"My accent is French? Merci, monsieur. I never would have figured that out on my own. Now would you please do us both a favor and foutre le camp?"

I smiled excitedly. Now he was really turning me on. "Oh God, that sounded so French."

"That's because it was French."

"What does it mean?"

"Go away. Leave me alone. Fuck off!"

I almost wilted like a flower in a heatwave at the sound of him saying ‘fuck', and although I managed to keep my legs from turning to jelly, I wasn't so good at keeping the whimper of delight from escaping my lips.

My sexy neighbor gave me a confused look. "Did you just give a little moan?"

"Who? Me?" I could feel the bulge in my crotch swell.

"Yes, you. Did you just make a little whimper?"

"No." My aching cock pressed against my jeans so hard I felt the pre-cum begin to spill.

"Yes, you did. You just gave a little groan of pleasure. Do you enjoy being told to fuck off?"

"By you? Hell yes…"

I could feel my balls ascend.

"Yes…"

I could feel myself about to blow.

"Yes!"

A quiver of sheer ecstasy rattled my whole body as I felt my dick launch an uncontrollable gush of cum inside my jocks and jeans, right then and there. "Aaaaaah!"

Every muscle in my body twitched with bliss as I threw my head back and ejaculated without so much as touching myself.

My eyelids fluttered.

My nostrils flared.

My teeth clenched tight.

In that moment, I surrendered myself completely to my orgasm, grinning from ear to ear and panting with joy, not giving a damn that I was standing on the pavement… in my now-soggy clothes… in front of my next-door neighbor.

Then slowly, as I caught my breath and returned to my senses, elation gave way to humiliation.

I looked down to see my bulging, cum-stained crotch.

I looked up to see Monsieur Dupont staring at me, stunned and extremely amused.

"Oh fuck. Did I just…?"

"Oui, oui!" he smirked.

"No, no. It's not wee-wee. It's cum. Not that that makes it any better. Oh shit. Oh fuck. I have to go."

Clutching my sodden crotch, I bolted off, utterly mortified, slamming the door to my flower shop behind me and wondering to myself—

Could things honestly get any more embarrassing between me and my hot French neighbor?