There were good marketing reasons for this, but the real reason was that Uncle Jamie was a Christmas junkie whose birthday fell the first week of November, and he just liked having tinsel around when he blew out the candles on his cake. As a result, Jamie’s birthday party—a big bash held at the winery every year—marked the unofficial start of the holiday season for the Lyndon family. He’d outdone himself this year. White lights twinkled in the naked wisteria vines that wove through the patio’s pergola. Two gigantic wreaths hung on the barn doors that led to the tasting room. Yards of pine roping wrapped every post, beam, and window frame. “Bah humbug,” David mumbled as he and Natalie walked down the path that led from the parking lot to the winery’s tasting room. “What does that mean, Daddy?” Natalie asked. Busted. “It’s just an expression.” “An expression of what?”
