A Healer’s Journey

Chapter 271 Casanova

“Everyone’s hard work is appreciated, but it’s just a birthday, after all. Nancy, let’s not do this again, okay? Everyone’s really busy, and I’m not too fussed about birthdays!” Bennett remarked as he and Nancy joined the rest of the party at the riverside pavilion.

Bennett looked resigned, gently chiding Nancy.

Rhiannon interjected, “Mr. Sanchez, Nancy’s gesture is her way of showing her respect and love. Please don’t be too hard on her. Plus, we have to dine anyway. Getting to celebrate your birthday while enjoying the great meal you’ve prepared is a treat for us all.”

Shaun and the others, despite this being their first encounter with Bennett, echoed this sentiment respectfully.

Bennett, with a reluctant smile, said, “Well, if everyone insists. Give me a moment, I’ll bring out my three- year-old pineapple wine for you all to try.”

As Bennett turned and noticed Finnegan, he nodded in acknowledgment before walking away.

Finnegan, taking a seat, queried, “Nancy, is this the first time you’ve celebrated your dad’s birthday?”

Nancy explained, “Dad’s never told me his birthday, and he avoids the question whenever I ask. I’ve never celebrated it before! I only found out today because I stumbled upon his ID while doing laundry. Otherwise, he probably would’ve never told me.”

This elicited a laughter from Shaun, who remarked, “It’s not unusual. I always forget my parents’ and grandparents’ birthdays until the last minute.”

“That’s pretty cold, man. I always remember my family’s birthdays. It’s a good chance to act nice and score some extra pocket money!” Zephyr chimed in.

Their banter continued until Bennett reappeared with a clay pot.

The chatter subsided as he placed the pot down and broke its wax seal. A tantalizing scent of pineapple and alcohol filled the air. “Brewed this three years ago,” Bennett explained. “Used almost ripe pineapples and double-distilled corn wine. By now, it should be smooth with a slightly sour, sweet undertone.”

Shaun sniffed the aroma. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was some kind of fruit juice.”

to taste. But it packs a punch later on,

us. You’re meeting us for the first time and probably aren’t aware of how much we can drink. This

lightly tapped his head, reprimanding, “You should realize that Mr. Sanchez’s homemade wine isn’t

by the way, we all address him

III

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Doesn’t that seem

is my grandfather’s master, I think

to their roles. I definitely don’t

the room,

dinner.

everyone present here tonight for joining us in celebrating

nine, and you weren’t a part of my earliest childhood memories, you’ve always been the dad I cherished the most. After Mom passed away, you single-handedly raised me for twelve years, sparing no effort to provide the best for me and shielding me from any hardships. You assumed the roles

to you, Dad, as a gesture of my gratitude for all that you’ve done for me!” With that, Nancy raised her glass and emptied it in one smooth

hint of moisture, noticeably redder than usual. “You, my dear, should drink less of this; it packs a punch later on. And really, it’s me who owes you thanks. You’ve taught me so much about responsibility and the true meaning of

the toast, emptying his glass in one swift motion.

we have to get so emotional? Now you’ve got me missing my parents. Can’t we just

as everyone laughed.

down and clapped his hands, signaling the start of the meal. “Let’s dig in. The pork chop and duck confit are best when hot. They

table’s atmosphere gradually shifted from the earlier sentimentality to a more jovial tone. Everyone picked up

though delightful to sip, had a potent

having downed a full glass, soon appeared slightly tipsy, on the verge of dozing off.

flushed and sweating lightly, a testament to