Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
O f course there had been an audience when the wall fell, like the Barra beach was East - Fucking - Berlin . Except judging by their reactions, that would make the townspeople communist sympathizers.
Bryan hadn’t been totally surprised to see the crowd gathered out back, not with the noise of his demolition probably echoing across the whole island. But he was a bit shocked by the power with which Grace had wielded the hammer.
It would have turned him on, if not for the fear she was picturing his face on the living room wall as she absolutely crushed it. He had almost said something trite like, Remind me not to get on your bad side , just to goad her into admitting he already was, but then the neighbors started in on him and Lùc , and Graciela - Fucking - Rios turned around and stalked back to her room, slamming the door hard enough to snap the hinges.
Lùcas also looked like he wanted to mutiny.
“That went well, I think,” Bryan quipped for something to say.
“You realize if they run us off the island, I’m going to have to stay with you,” Lùc said darkly. “ Haven’t got any skills besides defacing public property.”
“Was it you graffitied the back of your da’s shed?”
His cousin’s glower was answer enough.
“Come on.” Bryan clapped him on the shoulder. “ Help me hang these tarps. We’ll check in with your da about the windows and then I’ll treat you to a pint.
“It’s half nine!”
“A fry-up, then. Move your arse.”
* * *
They took their time fixing the tarps in place. Whether it was because Lùcas preferred a pint to breakfast or because he didn’t want to ask his father about the windows, Bryan wasn’t sure. Grace didn’t emerge from her room the entire time, not even to yell at them to quiet down. On the one hand, a fellow couldn’t really complain about not being shouted at. On the other hand, it gave Bryan far too much time to overthink everything.
Had it been the kissing she objected to? He’d asked permission first, and she’d seemed keen, seemed to enjoy herself right up until she suddenly didn’t.
Was it when he sucked on her bottom lip that sent her running? Before or after he buried his face in the valley where her shoulder ended and her neck began? Kissing her there was an excuse to discern the components of her shampoo like he would a fine whisky, losing himself completely in notes of jasmine and peach and something else entirely, something pure Grace .
In a moment straight from an adolescent daydream, she ran her hand roughly down his crotch and his mind went fairly blank. By the time he caught up again, she was apparently menstruating and he had been relegated to the doghouse.
At six a.m. on the dot, he’d driven straight to the market on the other side of the island, only hesitating when he realized it was his own mother flipping the sign from closed to open . Then he’d screwed up his courage and gone inside anyway.
“Darling,” she had whispered when the door closed behind him, and then he was burying his face in her hair, like an overgrown child, as she folded him up in her arms.
“I’m s-sorry, Ma ,” he whispered.
She smoothed the fringe from his forehead and then took his face in both hands, tears shining in her eyes.
“How could I forget a thing like that? Not eating meat was always so important to you.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters.”
He shook his head, and she rubbed his bearded cheek.
“I didn’t mean you look thin. You look good, my handsome lad. Just a wee bit tired,” she added, searching his eyes for the truth. “ You never did sleep enough.”
“Working a lot,” he said, squeezing her hand and looking around the old shop. “ As are you, apparently.”
She shook her head. “ When Nellie Coombe wanted to cut back to one day a week, someone had to pitch in. Especially during the festival. And , like your Grandad Mac always said, ‘ If you’re going to be here, be here.’?”
The same words Bryan had said to Grace . Maybe he needed to take his own advice. “ Are the tourists running you ragged, Ma ?”
“Och, I enjoy it. What about your tourists?” she asked, raising one cautious eyebrow.
“Ah, that, aye. Well . They may have come unprepared.”
She nodded wisely. “ We’re all out of slickers, I’m afraid.”
“No, not that. Ah , lady troubles,” he said, dredging up the term she and Cait had used when he was a boy.
“That I can help you with!”
After purchasing every single item she’d recommended and a few she hadn’t, he’d felt a little silly leaving it in the loo like some sort of apology bouquet, but he’d hoped it would erase last night’s awkward tension.
Based on Grace’s demeanor this morning, however, it may have only made things worse. Hopefully his second peace offering—a quiet, empty house—would be met with more enthusiasm.
By the time he and Lùcas had confirmed with Uncle Dàibhidh that his order of casement windows was delayed at least a week, the lunch crowd at the Three Puffins was picking up, and they were barely able to snag a two-top in the corner.
“Half eleven late enough for a pint?” Bryan asked, but his cousin’s only reply was a sullen shrug.
He was still agitated after the neighbors’ open hostility and a stilted conversation with his da at the hardware store. Bryan well remembered those angsty days before he fled the island and stopped speaking to his own demanding father all together.
“You didn’t think to check on the windows before starting in on that wall?” Lùc groused.
“Aye, I thought about it.”
Lùcas gave him a look as if to say, And yet…?
“Needed a good airing out anyway,” Bryan teased, trying to chivy away his cousin’s bad mood. “ So , what do the kids do for fun around here these days?”
“Make questionable decisions about karaoke songs, mostly,” Lùcas replied with another shrug.
“That’s always a good time.”
“Is it?”
Now it was Bryan’s turn to shrug. Since his stammer plagued him less while singing, karaoke had been just about the only safe group activity when he was a teen.
“What were you, the karaoke king?”
Bryan shook his head. “ I dunno, maybe I was.”
“Is that why all the girls liked you?”
A server popped up just then with their pints and pies, saving Bryan from having to answer that the girls probably felt sorry for him.
Their server was the same age as Lùcas , who was actively not looking at him.
“All right, Lùc ?” the other boy asked.
“Yeah, you?”
“Yeah, all right,” the kid said, then nodded at Bryan and left them to their food, as Lùc finally looked up to track him all the way back across the bar.
“He’s cute,” Bryan said, taking a stab in the dark.
His cousin’s gaze flicked to him, instantly guarded. “ Don’t be a perv, you’re like forty.”
Bryan rolled his eyes and took a long drink of his ale.
“Is it true you like guys?” Lùcas asked hesitantly.
“Sometimes.”
“Is it easier liking girls?”
“Sometimes.”
Lùc chewed on that for a minute before turning the tables. “ Is the American one of those times?”
Bryan shot him a death stare. “ Don’t be a perv, you’re prac-tically in nappies,” he growled, and his cousin laughed, dark cloud finally chased away for the time being, as he dug into his pie.