Blame it on the Vodka (Blame it on the Alcohol)

“It’s good to see you too, Grandma.”

Watching the big, powerful Austin—who I’d seen do one too many keg stands—crouch down and smile like a little boy for this woman had my eyes misting over.

As soon as she let him go, she turned to me with a warm smile only grandmas had, that promised cookies and breaking the rules. “You must be Raelynn.”

“You can call me Rae,” I said, smiling back.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Ethel, and that anti-social man on the porch is Sylvester.”

“I’m not anti-social; I’m just letting you get all your hugs out first.”

I looked to the man, standing just as tall as Austin, and offered another smile and wave before sticking my hand out to greet Ethel.

“None of that,” she said, shooing my hand away. “We’re a hugging family, and since you’re part of the family, you get a hug too.”

“I won’t turn a hug down.” I opened my arms and hid my wince about being part of the family behind her back.

She pulled back but kept her hands on my shoulders as she looked me up and down. “I don’t know how my Austin landed you, but he’s one lucky man to have such a beautiful wife.”

“Oh, thank you.” I looked down, hiding how forced my smile turned. Taking Austin to the Hamptons had been a breeze. We’d lied to strangers, almost turning it into a game. But being here was so different. Here we lied to his family, and I hadn’t realized how much that would turn me inside out.

“Well, let’s get you inside and settled. We’ll let Bernie get the bags,” she said, looping her arm through mine.

“Bernie?” I asked, coming to a complete stop.

She laughed at my confusion, waving it away. “I’ve called him that since he was little. It’s short for his middle name, Bernard.”

My brows rose so high I thought they’d get lost in my hairline as I struggled to hold back a laugh. We’d just made it to the stairs where his grandpa passed us when I looked back to find Austin glaring our way.

I gave him my best what-the-fuck face while mouthing Bernard.

He closed his eyes and shook his head like he was asking God for patience because he knew I wouldn’t let that middle name go for a while.

Once he opened his eyes, I blew him a kiss.

“Young love,” his grandma sighed beside me. “It makes separating even for a moment seem impossible. Although, I still blow kisses to Sylvester whenever I can.”

“Because you’re still young and in love.”

She smiled knowingly and patted my arm as we crossed the threshold. “I like you. I like you a lot.”

The guys eventually brought the bags in after talking for a while. I wasn’t quite sure what people did on a farm, well, other than farm, so my expectations hadn’t been very high for this trip. But I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of fun we had for the rest of the night.

Ethel had a quick, sarcastic sense of humor that had Sylvester rolling his eyes. I made sure to continue to call Austin by his nickname and joined Ethel in the jokes when I could. We made a hell of a team.

After dinner, we sat around the table and had a drink while they showed me how to play an intense game of Euchre. It seemed pretty slow, but Austin informed me that they took the game very seriously. We played one round, where I kicked his butt, before Ethel pulled out the baby album, much to Austin’s dismay.

Each flip of the page had its own story that had me laughing, and Austin groaning in embarrassment.

“You sure did love those cowboy hats, Bernie,” I commented when I saw another picture of him running through a sprinkler while holding a cowboy hat to his head.

“They looked good on me. I had to wear them.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Ethel exclaimed. “One summer, he would only wear a cowboy hat and boots. And I mean, only wear that.”

“Hopefully, when he was younger,” I surmised, laughing.

“I wish,” she groaned. “He did it right before college.”

“Grandma!” Austin shouted like he was scandalized.

I just stared wide-eyed at the very serious woman in front of me. My mouth tried to form words, but it was overridden each time I imagined a grown Austin running around the house naked as an adult.

“I’m just yanking your chain,” Ethel said, slapping my leg with a laugh.

“Oh, thank god,” I sighed.

“He was about three or four when he went through that phase.”

“Whew. I mean, I’m all for letting it hang out if that’s your jam, but to be running around a farm like that…” I shook my head with fake sincerity. “Those poor people.”

“They’d be lucky to see all this,” Austin claimed with confidence.

“Oh, boy,” Sylvester groaned, rolling his eyes.