You may recall that I was going to give my grandmother rum for Christmas. This is the follow-up.

A few weeks ago, Rob and I had dinner with my grandparents. And at this dinner, she served rum cake. As in cake, made with rum. My jaw dropped when she brought it to the table. "Grandma, this is rum cake?!"

"It is," she said with a laugh.

"But...how did you get the rum?"

"I went to the store and bought it," she announced proudly. And then she told us the story.

She had wanted to make more fruitcakes before Christmas, and she had set her mind to making them with rum. So she told Granddad to drive her to the liquor store. He did, and then sat in the car and waited while she went in. She had never been in a liquor store before. She roamed the aisles (with her walker), looking for rum. An employee asked if she needed help. "Yes, young man," she said. "I'm making fruitcakes and need some rum. Can you find it for me?"

He did, and then carried it to the checkout counter for her. The cashier rang it up and Grandma got out her checkbook. "Ma'am, I'm sorry," the cashier told her, "but we don't take checks."

My grandma didn't have any other way to pay, so she told the cashier to wait while she went to the car for cash. When she got to the car, my grandfather asked what had happened and, leaning on her walker, she replied, "They said I was too young to buy alcohol." They both got a good laugh out of that. And then she went back in with a wad of cash and bought her rum.

Upon hearing this tale, I told my grandma that I was quite proud of her, but also a bit disappointed because I had been planning to give her rum for Christmas. I told her how I'd envisioned that she'd open it in front of the entire family, and that it would be hilarious, if a bit scandalous. She seemed entirely amused by this, and insisted that I could still give it to her. She swore she'd act surprised. "And maybe I'll even take a little swig!"

We were all laughing hard at this point, and acting a bit giddy in general, as if the rum cake was going to our heads. "What we should do," Rob suggested, "is fill an empty rum bottle with water. That's the one we could wrap, and then you could really take a big gulp!"

We laughed again at this. "I'll do it," she said conspiratorially, her eyes sparkling.

This past Saturday, Rob and I drove to my grandparents' house for Christmas with all the family, our presents placed carefully on the backseat. When we were almost there, Rob asked, "Did you bring rum?"

"Yeah."

"Did you put water in the empty bottle?"

"No. I'd actually forgotten all about that."

"Well you'd better tell your grandma before she unwraps it."

"Nah, she won't remember. I mean, if I didn't, she won't."

After lunch, we all gathered in the living room as the gifts were handed out. When my gift bag was given to my grandma, she carefully peeked into it and then looked at me and grinned. I grinned back, figuring that, once we all began opening gifts, she wouldn't actually have the nerve to unwrap it in front of everyone.

The truth is, when the kids and everyone began tearing into their presents, I got distracted and didn't even see Grandma lift the rum out of our gift bag. I didn't notice until Rob, sitting beside me, nudged me and pointed urgently toward my grandmother. And I turned my head just in time to see her raise the rum to her lips and take a big swig.

There was sudden silence in the room, with the exception of a gasp or two. Her eyes widened. "Whoooo! " she exclaimed as she lowered the bottle. "That's not water!" And then she looked at me and whispered, "But it's pretty good."

When I get to hell, it will have been so totally worth it.