A Healer’s Journey (Finnegan and Nuthana)

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.”

strong to taste. But it packs a punch later on, so go

brimming with confidence, declared, “Mr. Sanchez, don’t worry about us. You’re meeting us for the first time and probably aren’t aware of how much we can drink. This

Finnegan lightly tapped his head, reprimanding, “You should realize that Mr. Sanchez’s homemade wine isn’t something you can compare to

next time, Finnegan. It really hurt! And by the way, we all address him respectfully as ‘Mr. Sanchez. When you call

III

1/3

generation gap. Doesn’t that seem a little

“Considering Finnegan is my grandfather’s master, I think we

quickly agreed, “Absolutely, everyone should stick to their roles. I

uproarious laughter throughout the room, effectively marking

dinner.

lifting her wine glass, stood and addressed the gathering. “I want to extend my heartfelt thanks to Finnegan and everyone present here tonight for joining us in celebrating my father’s birthday. Let’s raise a toast to this wonderful gathering!” She took the lead, sipping her wine,

was 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 of both father and mother, teaching me valuable life lessons, how to love, and to stand tall and confident

why I’m making this toast to you, Dad, as a gesture of my gratitude for all that you’ve done for me!”

shimmered with a 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

joined in the toast, emptying his

corners of his slightly wet eyes, complained, “Do we have to get so emotional? Now you’ve got me missing my parents.

lightened 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 lose their charm once they cool

shifted from the earlier sentimentality to a more jovial tone. Everyone picked up their wine glasses or chopsticks, easing into a warmer, more

though

downed a full glass, soon appeared slightly tipsy,

seasoned drinker, was visibly affected, his face flushed and

“Finnegan, remember when you were little? You used to tag along after my sister, vowing to marry her. You even made her pinky swear not to change for a hundred years. Now look at you, all grown up and changing your mind. You’re such a rascal! Thinking about what my sister has been going through lately, it’s heartbreaking.