Page 21 of Covington Acres

“Not too bad. Lulu was in the shop the other day. I’m sure you heard she’s getting married. When is it going to be your turn, Colby Covington?” She said it playfully, not realizing the question made Colby’s gut sink.

“Maybe I’m secretly already married,” he tried to joke, but he was annoyed. Why did it constantly come back to that? Why was it anyone’s business?

“Damn it. I missed out again. If you’re ever looking, I’m just saying I’m available.” She winked. Then they called her name that her to-go order was done, and Mandy slipped away. That had been in jest, clearly, but the thing was, Colby knew it also wasn’t. That people wondered about him, and that his bachelor ways were the talk of the town. Probably more because he was a Covington than anything else.

“You gonna marry Mandy Turner?” Clint chuckled.

“Hell no, you asshole,” he teased back, but still, the exchange had soured his mood.

When they finished eating and he told Clint he needed to head out, he didn’t tell his friend he was going home to brew beer with Vince, still wanting to keep this between him and Vince.

The whole drive home he was anxious about it, though. A jitteriness bounced around inside him like a Ping-Pong ball. A good kind of jitteriness. One that hinted at an excitement Colby couldn’t figure out why he was nervous to admit to.

“Hey, you.” Vince was already out in the detached, large shop when he got home. It had work areas, benches, electricity, and even chairs and a fridge, so it was the perfect place. “I’m just looking at the kit.”

“Learning anything?” Colby joined him.

“This has to ferment for like two weeks after we brew. Talk about delayed gratification,” Vince joked.

“Have a little patience. It’ll be worth it.” Well, Colby hoped it would be worth it. “Unless our beer tastes like shit.”

Vince nudged him with his arm. “Our beer isn’t going to taste like shit.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we’re making it, and we’re fucking kings.”

Vince winked, and Colby felt a strange flutter in his gut. “Good point.”

Vince clapped his hands together. “All right, babe. Let’s do this.”

And that easily, the nerves melted away, and all that was left was pure anticipation.

Colby’s smile started and continued to grow. “Let’s do this.”

They’d gotten a beginner’s kit that came with a recipe. Colby knew that if this was something he continued, there would bemore steps that included advanced techniques, but this would do them well for now.

They were starting with a hoppy red ale. Colby liked the added citrus taste.

“What do we do first?” Vince asked.

“We need to mix these ingredients in the hop bag.”

Vince grabbed the bag and added the black roasted barley malt and other ingredients into it. Then he placed the bag in a five-gallon pot with water, making sure the grain was covered. Colby had a portable camp stove out here for now, but if he kept this up, he’d need something better.

“It says the bag can’t sit on the bottom of the pot when we start the heat,” Vince told him, and Colby nodded.

“How long do we keep the bag in?”

“Until it reaches 170 degrees.”

They followed the directions, bringing it to temp, removing the bag, boiling and adding liquid malt extract.

“It says to stir until dissolved,” Vince said, which Colby did, before they added the hops to the bag and put it back in the water. “Now we basically let it boil for forty-five minutes.”

“Okay.” Colby grinned, though he had no idea why. He went to the fridge and grabbed them each a bottle of beer, and they sat on the couch in his shop.

“What do you think so far?” Vince asked.

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