RedNovel"Where's that godawful stench of booze coming from? Have you been drinking?" Richard stormed in, his voice echoing off the hallway walls.
Winona shrank closer to Keaton, barely daring to breathe.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtMrs. Windham and Mrs. Murphy both wrinkled their noses, fanning the air.
"Oh, mercy, that's not just a little whiskey," Mrs. Windham muttered. "Someone's been on a real bender." Mr. Windham's eyes narrowed as he spotted something glinting near the fireplace a bottle, rolling on its side. He picked it up, squinting at the faded label, and gasped, "Good Lord above! Is this... a 1935 Glenfiddich? That was Harold's pride and joy! He wouldn't even open it before he died. Keaton, you let him drink it?!" Mr. Murphy, poking around, found a few more empty bottles. Reading the labels by candlelight, he blurted out, "A limited edition Russo-Boro vodka, an Imperial Collection Cognac-my God, Keaton, did you just plunder your grandfather's entire stash?" Richard's eyes went wide as he glanced at the empty bottles, then rushed to the family altar where Harold's picture stood.
He barely needed to look. The collection of rare spirits Harold had hidden behind his photo-gone. Every last drop. Furious, Richard spun around, shouting at Keaton, "You little punk! Those were your grandfather's wedding toasts for you!" "He loved a good drink, but he saved those his whole life just for your wedding day!" "That Glenfiddich from 1935? He wanted you to open it with your wife, when you shared your first toast as a married couple!" "That vodka? For you and your bride to offer the guests at your reception!" "And that Imperial Cognac? That was meant to honor your new in-laws!" "From the second you were born, your granddad dreamed of seeing you married. Now, before you've even found a wife, you've gone and guzzled everything he saved for you!" "You-ungrateful brat! How could you do this to your grandfather?!" "Are you not afraid he'll rise up from his grave and cknocking on your bedroom door tonight?" Winona's eyes went wide. Wedding toasts? All that was meant for Keaton's big day? Oh, dear God.
That 1935 Glenfiddich? She'd split it with Keaton just hours ago! Panic prickled under her skin.
Silently, she prayed, 'Ancestors set the Huber family, if you're watching, I swear-Keaton toldto take it. He madedrink!' 'I had no idea those bottles meant anything special!' 'If Harold's spirit is angry, please, please haunt Keaton, not me-I'm innocent in all this.' While Winona sat there in a cold sweat, Keaton just shrugged, a little tipsy and totally nonchalant.
"Doesn't matter," he slurred. "I'm never getting married anyway. No point letting good booze go to waste, right?"
Richard's face turned purple. "You, little-! How did I end up with a somlike you? If I don't knock ssense into you, I'll never forgive myself-or your grandfather!"
He snatched the old wooden yardstick from in front of Harold's! picture and marched toward Keaton, ready to lay down the law. Janelle grabbed his arm, sobbing, "He's already hurt! You want to beat him to death? Is that what you want?" Richard shook with rage. "Should
just let him off, after all this? Look at what he's done! Listen to what he's saying! He trashed his grandfather's legacy and doesn't even care!" Winona was fuming too. Why did Keaton have to open his mouth about never getting married-now of all times? If he couldn't keep quiet, he could at least apologize and try to calm everyone down! But no, he just had to make things worse.
In a fit of frustration, Winona pinched Keaton under the covers-right on one of his wounds, as luck would have it.
Visit our social media platform to read fascinating stories every day and connect with the community!
