“Exactly,” our hostess says. “We’re dealing with a responsible bunch, and I couldn’t ask for more.”
“Is it okay if I keep my truck parked out front next to my buddy’s?”
“It’s no problem,” Leah-Marie says.
“Good,” Rhett says. “My friend Jenkins and two other people should already be here.”
“Yes, all three are already inside the distillery with the group,” Leah-Marie says. “That’s where the tour starts.”
I nod.
“The distillery is located inside a gorgeous timber-frame building and it’s the perfect location to give a crash course in tasting and a bit of history on Redbridge Bourbon Distillery.” Leah-Marie keeps talking. “Once you get the basics, we’ll give you a quick tour of the renovated premises. There are lots of great spots to take selfies.”
“Noted,” I say.
“Sounds good,” Rhett says.
“If you’ll follow me,” Leah-Marie says.
“Lead the way.” Rhett extends his arm.
We follow Leah-Marie hand-in-hand.
The interior of the distillery is decorated in a modern, contemporary, rustic style. In many ways, it reminds me of the same stylish combination I’ve seen at Riley, Hunter’s, and Jake’s houses. It’s also reminiscent of the house I used to live in on their property.
“We’re here,” Leah-Marie says when we reach a closed barn door. She pulls it open and invites me to step inside.
I smile at her. “Thank you.”
I step inside the distillery.
“SURPRISE!” A chorus of voices erupts.
Freaked out, I gasp and bring my hands to my face to cover my mouth.
What the hell?
I flip around to look at my boyfriend. “What’s going on?”
A cocky grin stretches his lips. “What does it look like?”
I turn around again, jaw dropped, eyes bouncing from left to right as I take in the familiar faces.
Everyone is here—my cousin from LA and her husband, Mani, my parents, my seven brothers and their better halves—some sisters-in-law, some girlfriends, some fiancées—the little army of nephews and nieces, and my grandparents on both sides. Jenkins, his girlfriend, and April are here. Riley, Miranda, Allison, Hunter, Jake, and a few colleagues from Happy Belly also showed up.
Unbelievable.
As I soak it all in with a goofy smile on my face, my father starts a countdown.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The crowd shouts their wish on cue. Then, they launch into the song for the occasion. The nonnas sing alongTanti auguri a te.You can’t convince those women to sing the song in English even after a lifetime living in this country.
“Thank you, everybody,” I say when they finish. “That still doesn’t absolve any of you.” I narrow my eyes at the group of family and friends, wagging a parental finger at them.
“What do you mean, cupcake?” The amusement in Mom’s voice is evident.
“All of you are accomplices.” I point an accusing finger around the room. “You all knew this was coming and no one even dropped a hint.”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if you knew,” Mani says.
