Page 52 of Grace on the Rocks

“No, the wrinkles, ha!” his aunt exclaimed, turning to wink atWesleywho looked completely bemused and unsure how to react.

“Those are all new, on account of my house guests,” he teased forWesley’sbenefit.

“How very dare!”Wessaid, sitting up in mock outrage.

“He’s always been the cheekiest of the lot,”AuntEilidhconfided toWes. “Abouttime you turned up.Thegirls in my sewing circle have been threatening to go down toLadbrokesand bet their pensions on whether you’d come to see me beforeI’min the ground.”

His stomach twisted.Hadthey said the same aboutGrandadMac?Heshould’ve come back sooner.Hehadn’t known how.

“I didn’t realize you were ill,Auntie,” he tried to tease.

“I’m strong as an ox, but we’re all dying from the moment we’re born, so they say.”

“Well,I’mhere now.Whowon the odds?”

“I did,” she said, smiling up at him, and when he bent to kiss her cheek, she patted his and murmured, “Thewhiskers suit you.”

Bryan’s heart flooded with warmth for the old lady.Maybehe could do this after all. “Whatdo you think of theWarriorsthis season?”

“Absolute rubbish, the lot of them.Butthey’ll win the league, you mark my word.”

“They might, at that.”

Bolstered, he straightened and offered a hand to his father who remained stoic by the fireplace.ThegreatCameronMacNeil.

His father accepted his hand, and just asBryanlet his guard relax a little,Cameronpointed to his beard and said, “Stillpretending to be your grandfather,Isee.”

Bryan bit the inside of his cheek.

“He loved his little mini-me.Hewas probably with you on the day, instead of us, wherever you were.”

“I was?—”

“It’s fine.”

Biting down harder,Bryanrefused to be sucked into an argument.Hedeserved the rebuke, and anyway, his tongue was tied in knots.He’dworn a beard for as long as he could grow one, not to cosplay as his grandad but as a mask to hide behind.Ifit made him look like his grandad, well, that was genetics, wasn’t it?

Elspeth pressed a bottle ofBelhaven’sBestintoBryan’sfree hand, reminding him of the whisky.Roboticallyhe offered theRionnagachto his father, who accepted it with a quick nod and set it aside.

“Is that my wean?” his mother called, stepping out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on her apron, andChrist, but she looked tinier and older than he remembered, despiteEl’spictures.

“You came,”Caitsaid from over her mother’s shoulder, asMapulled him into a hug.

“Told youIwould,” he mumbled, asGracepeeked out from behindCaitmouthingsorry, but he was folded in his mother’s arms and anyway, he’d pretty well gotten over the shock of having dinner withGraceandWesleythe minute his dad started in on him.

“I hope you’re hungry,” his mother said. “I’vefinally perfected the beefWellington.”

Bryan’s jaw clenched, and he caughtElspeth’snervous glance.They’dforgotten he was vegetarian, had been since the age of eight, and they all just… forgot.Ordidn’t care.

The children were called to wash up, andAuntEilidhwas heaved from her chair, and everyone gathered around the too-small dining table which had been overflowing with family for as long as he’d been alive.Musclememory tookBryanto the spot between his mother andCait, whereSamwas pulling out the chair.

“I sit here,” his nephew informed him, soBryansqueezed in on the other side, between his aunt and little sister, across fromGrace, in an uncomfortable folding chair because he was neither family nor company.

He picked up his napkin as one by one the others bowed their heads.

Oh hell.

Bryan closed his eyes, and his father began a safe enough prayer of thanks for the food and forSaragetting over her recent cold and for their guests all the way fromTennessee.Buthe couldn’t just leave well enough alone.No, notCameronMacNeil.

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