At 79, My Mom’s Wedding Seemed Perfect Until She Set a Shocking Rule for the Bouquet Catcher — Story of the Day

I thought my mom’s wedding at 70 would be a sweet, simple event until she grabbed the mic and announced a shocking rule for whoever caught her bouquet. I stepped back, avoiding it. But then it landed… right in my hands.

I stood in the kitchen, watching my mother flit around the table, rearranging place cards, adjusting napkins, and muttering about color schemes as if the fate of the universe depended on them.

She looked radiant, practically glowing. Meanwhile, I was still trying to understand how this was happening.

"Mom, are you serious? You're seventy-nine years old, and you're getting married?"

She glanced up, completely unfazed by my tone, flashing a mischievous smile.

"Oh, don’t make that face, darling. This isn’t the end of the world. It's the beginning of a brand-new life!"

She looked exactly as she had in her twenties, with that same sparkle in her eyes, the same reckless enthusiasm that made arguing with her absolutely pointless.

"Mom, why? You live perfectly fine on your own!"

"And who said I want to live alone?"

My mother had always done exactly what she wanted.

"I know that after your disaster of a marriage, you've stopped believing in love, but I haven’t. Harold is perfect for me. He makes me laugh. And I feel alive again."

I sighed, watching her. She was strong-willed, fearless, and hopelessly stubborn. If she had made up her mind, there was no talking her out of it.

"So, the wedding is already planned?"

"Guests are invited, the dress is picked, the menu is finalized."

"This is insane."

"This is life, sweetheart," she smiled slyly. "And you should start living it again instead of hiding behind your cynicism."

I clenched my jaw. My mother had an infuriating way of bringing up my divorce at the worst possible moments.

I thought back to the day my husband left. I had come home expecting nothing unusual, only to find suitcases lined up by the door. He'd just announced that he was in love with someone younger. Someone fun.

After that, love had felt like an overpriced scam, a fairy tale sold to naive women who didn’t realize that the prince would eventually get bored and find someone else.

I had spent years rebuilding myself, brick by brick, convincing myself that I was better off. That I didn’t need love.

"You know," my mother’s voice pulled me back, "I’ve planned something fun for my favorite girls at the wedding."

"Girls?"

"You, my dear, and my lovely granddaughters."

She beamed at me. There was a twinkle in her eyes that I did not like.

"Mom."

"Trust me," she waved. "You’re going to love it."

I doubted that.

***

On the day of the wedding, on the way to the grand estate where the ceremony was being held, life decided to remind me that I was not in control of anything.

My tire went flat in the middle of nowhere. No gas stations. No passing cars. Just me, a useless phone signal, and my own bad luck.

I stepped out of the car, cursed under my breath, and was just about to call for roadside assistance when a shiny new pickup pulled over next to me.

"Got a problem, lady?"

I rolled my eyes before even turning around.

The man standing beside the truck was tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, and wearing a grin that immediately irritated me.

"My tire’s flat," I said dryly.

"Oh, that’s an easy fix. Give me five minutes, and you’ll be good to go."

"Are you a mechanic?"

"Nope, but you’re not gonna ask for my credentials while I’m fixing your tire, are you?"

I glared at him. "Listen, Mister…"

"Nick."

"Listen, Nick, I’m not in the mood for jokes."

"Sounds like you need a few jokes," he smirked, kneeling by my car.

I let out a long breath and turned away, only to hear the car door creak open.

"Are you serious, Nick?" came a sharp, annoyed female voice.

I turned to see a tall, blonde, clearly annoyed woman, leaning out from the passenger seat.

"Just a minute, Julie," he called over his shoulder.

She shot me a glance, her expression instantly going from irritated to downright hostile. Then, with a tight-lipped sigh, she sat back in the car.

I pursed my lips. Typical man. With his typical love story. I didn’t care. I just wanted to get to the wedding and be done with that day.

***

The wedding was extravagant. My mother looked thrilled. Harold seemed overjoyed. The guests were laughing, dancing, and having the time of their lives. And then my mother stepped up to the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the bouquet toss!"

The crowd cheered. My nieces moved closer, already preparing to fight for it.

"And whoever catches it will receive my cherished sapphire ring!"

Another murmur of excitement.

"But there’s one condition," she continued, raising a finger. "The winner must go on a date with someone of my choosing!"

"Oh, no," I muttered, stepping back.

Then, my mother turned around, and right before she threw the bouquet, I swear she winked at me. She adjusted her stance, aimed...

And launched it. Directly. At. Me. I couldn’t move in time. The bouquet landed right in my hands. Silence. Then... cheers exploded around me.

I stood there frozen while my mother beamed. "Congratulations!"

"This is a joke," I whispered.

"A deal is a deal, sweetheart," she grinned.

"Who… exactly is my date?"

Her grin widened. "Nick, dear, come on up!"

My head whipped around. The same damn Nick was striding forward, looking entirely too amused. He raised a brow at me. "Well, well. Looks like fate wants us to have dinner."

Behind him, Julie scoffed loudly in pure outrage.

I turned back to my mother. "Absolutely not."

She placed a hand on my arm and whispered, "Please, sweetheart. Just this once. Do it for me. As a wedding gift."

Before I could refuse, she waved Nick over and disappeared into the dancing crowd. Nick smirked, leaning in.

"So, when’s our big date?"

"Let’s just get this over with. I’ll do it, but only so I don’t ruin my mother’s wedding. One date. That’s it."

"Perfect. Name the time and place, and I’ll be there."

"Saturday. 7 p.m. That Italian place downtown. Vincenzo’s."

"Fancy," he teased. "I’m honored."

"Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to pretend this never happened for the rest of the evening."

As I turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of Nick out of the corner of my eye. He had already spun around and was making his way straight toward Julie.

She was already fuming but Nick just grinned at her, said something in a voice low enough that I couldn’t hear, and then, to my complete disbelief, took her by the hand and led her onto the dance floor.

I had seen enough.

I didn’t even wait for the wedding cake. Without saying another word, I grabbed my purse and left, heading straight home with only one thought repeating in my head...

Why on earth is my mother doing this to me?

***

The date evening came. I was sitting in a quiet café, drumming my fingers against the table. I had arrived ten minutes early because I wanted to get that over with.

And then, right on time, Nick walked in.

Dressed in a crisp button-down and dark jeans, he looked… annoyingly put-together. He spotted me immediately and smiled.

"Wow," he said, sliding into the seat across from me. "You actually showed up. I was half expecting you to leave me a 'Dear John' note and vanish."

"Trust me, I considered it."

"So. Let’s do this properly. How was your day?"

I studied him. "You mean before or after I regretted agreeing to this date?"

Nick let out a laugh.

"Okay, see? That right there is why I like you. You’re brutally honest. Refreshing."

I sighed, taking a sip of my coffee. "Look, I agreed to this because of my mother. One date. No expectations. No illusions."

"Got it. No illusions."

For a few moments, it wasn’t so bad. He made light conversation, joked about the wedding, and somehow managed to make me smirk more than once. I hated to admit it, but he was… charming. In an infuriating way.

And then his phone rang. He barely glanced at the screen before hitting decline. A minute later, it rang again.

That time, he sighed, checked the caller ID, and muttered, "Give me a sec."

He stood up, stepping a few feet away as he answered. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but ...

"Hey, Julie, it’s okay… yeah, I know. Just... calm down, alright?"

A pause. Then another sigh.

"Yeah, I’ll be there soon. Just sit tight."

He hung up, ran a hand through his hair, and returned to the table, looking more tense than before.

"Sorry about that," he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "I have to go."

"Something important?"

"Yeah, just... something I need to take care of."

"Let me guess," I said flatly. "Julie?"

"Yeah."

"Of course."

He stood, throwing a few bills onto the table. "Listen, I’m sorry. I know this is..."

"Don’t worry about it. Let’s just say we’re done. No need to reschedule."

"Come on, you’re just going to write me off like that?"

I gave him a dry smile. "Nick, if you’re going to run off to another woman in the middle of our first date, at least try to be subtle about it."

He opened his mouth to argue but must have decided against it. Instead, he sighed and shook his head.

"I’ll explain later."

Then, with one last glance, he turned and walked out. I stared at my untouched coffee for a long moment before looking down at my reflection in the dark liquid.

Nick. Julie. Of course.

I'd known my mother’s matchmaking attempt would be a disaster, but even I hadn’t expected her to set me up with a player. A man who couldn't even make it through a single date without ditching me for someone else.

Whatever. He wasn’t my problem anymore. At least, that’s what I thought, having no idea I’d be seeing him again sooner than I expected.

***

The flowers started arriving the very next morning.

At first, I thought it was some mistake. A giant bouquet of red roses sat on my office desk when I walked in. The card attached had a message:

"Hope you’re not allergic. Nick "

I groaned out loud, tossing the flowers into the bin.

"Of course, it was him."

"Secret admirer?" one of the coworkers teased when the following bunch was delivered the following day.

"More like a persistent mistake," I muttered under my breath, tossing yet another bouquet into the breakroom for anyone to take.

I had successfully ignored Nick for a full week when my mother called, her voice as cheerful as ever.

"Dinner, sweetheart. My place. Tonight."

"Mom, I’m..."

"No excuses. I barely got to see you after the wedding. You left so early. Before cake, even! You owe me dinner."

"Fine," I relented. "I’ll be there."

I should have known she was up to something.

***

The moment I stepped onto my mother’s back patio, the scent of grilled food filled the air. For a brief moment, I let myself relax. Okay. Just family dinner. Nothing suspicious.

Then I saw Nick. Standing by the grill. Flipping burgers.

And then... as if the universe wasn’t already cruel enough, Julie stepped onto the patio right behind him.

My blood instantly boiled. Unbelievable. Before I could storm out, my mother caught me by the arm and beamed.

"Oh, sweetheart! You made it!"

"Mother. What is he doing here?"

She feigned innocence. "Oh, did I forget to mention? I invited Nick."

"Why?"

"Because, darling. I think you two got off on the wrong foot. And I wanted to give you another chance to get to know each other."

"Oh, no. I got to know him just fine. Trust me."

"Ah, well, then you won’t mind staying for dinner," she said sweetly, practically pushing me toward the table.

Before I could argue, Nick turned and spotted me. "Well, look who finally decided to stop avoiding me."

I clenched my jaw.

Julie, who had been silent up until now, finally scoffed. "Can we eat already?"

My mother clapped her hands together. "Of course! But first, Nick has something to say."

Nick sighed dramatically, setting down the spatula. "I need to introduce you to someone."

"Oh, I know Julie," I said coldly. "I saw plenty of her at the wedding, hanging off your arm while you..."

Nick cut me off. "Not like that. Not what you think."

He turned to Julie and put a hand on her shoulder. "This is my daughter."

"...What?"

Julie huffed, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. I know I look too old to be his kid, but trust me, I’ve had to live with him for eighteen very long years."

My mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. Nick scratched the back of his neck.

"Yeah, so… My wife passed when Julie was six. It’s been just the two of us since then. And, well…"

He shot his daughter a look. "Someone doesn’t like sharing me."

"You are annoying."

"That’s genetic, kiddo."

"So you weren’t…" I gestured vaguely. "You two weren’t…"

"Dating?" Nick finished for me, laughing. "Hell no. That would be weird."

Julie made a gagging sound. "Gross."

Then, she sighed dramatically, dropping into the seat across from me.

"Look, you’re not as bad as I thought," she admitted. "And honestly, my dad needs to move on already. Anyway. If you can tolerate him, you should go on another date."

I glanced at Nick, who was watching me with a smug expression.

"See? Even my daughter thinks I’m a good choice."

Surprisingly, I smiled. Just a little. "Maybe. But first, dinner. I’m starving."

"That’s the best thing you’ve said all night."

The conversation flowed easily after that. We talked, laughed, and somehow, against all odds, the tension melted away. I was finally ready to open my heart to a man.

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