My Son Asked If He Could Save a Seat for ‘The Man Who Always Brings Mommy Flowers’ at Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving has always been a time of joy and togetherness in our family. This year, however, a simple comment from Leo made me think about something other than Thanksgiving.

It made me wonder if I really knew my wife.

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. Growing up, my mom made a big deal out of it every year, inviting the entire extended family over for a grand feast.

The house would be filled with the smell of roasted turkey, laughter, and way too many pumpkin pies. Those memories stuck with me, and when I married Megan, I knew I wanted to carry on that tradition.

For the past seven years, Megan and I have hosted Thanksgiving at our home.

It’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it.

Megan cooks up a storm, I pitch in with setting the table and keeping Leo entertained, and the house buzzes with warmth and love. It’s chaotic but in the best way.

This year, we decided to keep it small. Just the three of us.

Life’s been stressful lately, with work deadlines, school activities for Leo, and all the little things that pile up when you least expect them. We figured a quiet Thanksgiving would be a chance to recharge, enjoy some turkey, and maybe sneak in a second slice of pie.

Plus, we haven’t been doing that well financially. I thought it’d be better if it was just the three of us this time.

A few days before Thanksgiving, we were doing a dry run, checking to make sure we had everything for the dinner.

Leo was buzzing around us, as six-year-olds do when he suddenly stopped and blurted out a question that made me freeze mid-step.

“Can we save a seat for the man who always brings Mommy flowers?”

I almost dropped the chair I was holding. Megan, standing by the table with a stack of plates, froze too.

“What man, buddy?” I asked, trying to stay calm.

“The one who gives Mommy flowers when you’re at work!” Leo said with a smile.

I glanced at Megan, expecting her to laugh it off. Instead, she just looked at Leo with wide eyes. It seemed like our son had just spilled a family secret.

“Oh, really?” I chuckled. “What’s he saying, Meg?”

“I-I don’t know,” Megan stammered before turning to Leo. “Sweetie, what are you talking about?”

Leo shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“C’mon, Mom!” he said. “You know who he is. The man with the flowers… I saw him last time when he was standing on the doorstep with the roses. I wanted to come and see the flowers, but you told me to go to my room and not bother you. Don’t you remember?”

What’s going on? I thought. What’s Leo talking about?

At that point, Megan’s reaction wasn’t helping.

“That’s… that’s not true, Leo,” Megan stammered. She was trying to sound lighthearted, but her voice wavered. “You must be imagining things, sweetie. I don’t remember that.”

“I’m not!” Leo insisted, crossing his arms like he does when he’s certain he’s right. “He brought pink roses last time. You said they were your favorite!”

I couldn’t ignore the pit forming in my stomach. I trusted Megan, but her reaction was sowing seeds of doubt in my mind.

During the seven years of our marriage, I had never once doubted her loyalty for a second. But now? All those countless shared laughs, tears, and late-night talks looked like an act to me.

Was Megan really involved with someone else?

That night, after we put Leo to bed, I couldn’t let it go. Megan had been distant all evening, barely looking me in the eye.

“Megan,” I said as we sat on the couch. “What’s going on? Is there something I should know?”

“No, uh,” she signed. “It’s nothing, Tom. I don’t know where Leo is getting this from. You know how kids can be. Th-they make things up.”

But Leo didn’t usually make things up, especially not with this kind of detail. I was certain my wife was hiding something.

“Come on, Megan,” I pressed. “He seemed so certain. He said you sent him to his room while this guy was here. Does that not sound a little strange to you?”

“Tom, I don’t know what to tell you,” she said in a defensive tone. “Maybe he misunderstood something he saw on TV or—”

“Or maybe he didn’t,” I interrupted, unable to mask my frustration. “If this is nothing, why do you look so… freaked out?”

“I’m not freaked out,” she snapped, though her flushed cheeks and fidgeting hands said otherwise. “I just don’t like the implication that I’m hiding something from you.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything. I just… I need to know what’s going on, Megan. If there’s something you’re not telling me, now’s the time.”

She didn’t respond. She just stared at the floor for a few seconds.

“It’s nothing, Tom,” she said after a long pause. “Let’s just drop it, okay?”

Drop it? Sure. I could drop it. But the pit in my stomach wasn’t going anywhere.

The next few days passed in a haze. I tried to focus on work and getting the house ready for Thanksgiving, but my mind kept circling back to that moment at the table.

Meanwhile, Megan continued her usual routine, pretending nothing had happened.

Soon, Thanksgiving morning arrived.

The day started as usual. Megan started cooking a hearty meal for us while I helped set up the table. Leo was watching his favorite show on TV.

At that point, the tension from earlier in the week had mostly faded because I’d decided not to confront Megan. However, that didn’t mean I’d forgotten everything.

Megan was almost ready to serve the food when the doorbell rang.

“Who could it be?” she thought aloud.

Before I could say anything, Leo jumped off the couch.

“It’s him!” he exclaimed. “The man with the flowers! See Dad, I told you!”

My heart pounded against my chest as I looked at Megan.

Her gaze shifted from the door to me before landing at Leo. It looked like she wanted to sink into the floor at that point.

“Leo, wait!” she called out, but her voice was barely audible.

Before I could process what was happening, I found myself rushing to the door, cutting Leo off just as his hand reached the knob.

And that’s where the truth began to unravel.

On our doorstep stood a man, probably in his late 40s, holding a bouquet of flowers.

He looked nervous, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His shirt had the logo of a local flower shop embroidered on it.

“Hi,” he said awkwardly. “I’m sorry to bother you. I know she asked for no deliveries today, but this was a special, last-minute order.”

I turned to Megan, who was now standing behind me.

“Care to explain?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Megan’s shoulders slumped, and she let out a shaky breath.

“Come inside,” she said while motioning for the delivery guy to step in.

The man walked into the foyer and placed the flowers on a small table by the wall.

“Special order?” she asked him. “Who is it for?”

“I don’t really know,” the man shrugged. “I was just asked to deliver the flowers today. Sorry for disturbing you, though.”

“That’s okay,” Megan said and handed him a tip.

Then, she ushered him out with a smile.

Once she closed the door behind her, I decided it was time to confront her.

“Okay,” I said, my voice firmer than I intended. “What’s going on, Megan? Who’s been sending you flowers?”

“It’s not… it’s not what you think, Tom. Just give me a chance to explain.”

I crossed my arms. “Then explain.”

She sank onto the edge of the couch, burying her face in her hands.

“I didn’t mean for it to be a secret. It just… happened, and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” I asked, my tone softening despite the storm of emotions inside me.

She finally looked up at me.

“I’ve been making flower arrangements,” she confessed. “For extra money. That’s it. I promise you, Tom, there’s no other man.”

“What?” I asked. “You’re making arrangements? Like… as a business?”

She nodded quickly. “I started a few months ago. It’s just that we’ve been so tight on money lately, and I didn’t want to add to your stress. So, I thought… maybe I could do something small, something just for me, to help out.”

“But why didn’t you tell me, Megan? Why all the secrecy?”

“Because I know you, Tom,” she began. “You’d tell me not to worry, and that we’d figure it out together. But I didn’t want you to have to figure it out. I wanted to do this on my own. For us.”

Leo wandered in at that moment, clutching his stuffed dinosaur.

“Mommy, are you crying?” he asked.

Megan smiled and hugged him tightly.

“Oh, no, sweetheart. I’m okay. Mommy’s just talking to Daddy about something important.”

He frowned. “Is it about the man with the flowers?”

I crouched beside them, resting a hand on Leo’s shoulder.

“Buddy, that man doesn’t bring Mommy flowers for himself,” I told him. “He’s just helping her with her work. Right, Megan?”

“That’s right,” she nodded. “Mommy’s been making flowers for people who want pretty bouquets.”

Leo’s eyes widened. “You made those flowers? That’s so cool!”

His innocent enthusiasm eased some of the tension, and Megan let out a soft laugh.

“Okay,” I said after a moment, standing back up. “So, who are these flowers for?”

I picked up the small card tucked into the bouquet and handed it to her.

“Maybe this will clear things up.”

“Let’s see,” she said while opening the card. Her eyes widened when she read the message inside.

“To Megan, the best wife and mother,” she read aloud. “Thank you for everything you do for us. Love, Tom and Leo.”

She looked up at me. “You… you did this?”

I nodded.

“Well… I just wanted to figure out what was going on,” I said. “So, uh, I stopped by the nearby flower shops and asked them if they’d been delivering flowers to my place. That’s when I realized what you were doing. One of the shops told me you often called them to deliver flowers.”

“And?” she asked.

“Honestly, I didn’t understand why you’d hide it from me. But then I decided the best way to make you confess was by surprising you. So, I thought of doing this delivery thing. I instructed the delivery guy not to say anything to you.”

“Seriously, Tom?” she chuckled as tears streamed down her cheeks. “You’re unbelievable! You actually did this?”

“I did,” I said, holding her close. “And while we’re at it, there’s something else you should know. I asked for a raise at work. And…”

“And?”

“And I got it!”

“What? Tom, that’s amazing!”

I cupped her face gently. “You don’t have to worry about sneaking around for money anymore. But if you want to keep doing this, because it makes you happy, then I’m all for it. Just let me be part of it next time, okay?”

“You really mean that?” she asked.

“Of course I do,” I said, kissing her forehead.

Leo tugged at Megan’s sleeve. “Mommy, can you make me a bouquet too? I want to give it to Grandma!”

The three of us laughed, and for the first time in days, the air felt lighter. Thanksgiving was just beginning, and it was already shaping up to be one of the best ones yet.

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: The day I buried Emily, all I had left were our photos and memories. But when something slipped from behind our engagement picture that night, my hands started shaking. What I discovered made me question if I’d ever really known my wife at all.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.