Page 80 of Grace on the Rocks

“Set your son straight,Cam,”Ellisall but hollered, shooting an arm out to stopBryan’sfather as he tried to pass by.

“What’s he done now?”

“The house!”Ellisexclaimed. “We’vegot a petition for an injunction to stop it.”

“There’s nothing to s-s—there’s nothing to stop,”Bryanstammered.

“It’s an abomination!Panelson the roof, knocking down walls, leading our youth astray,”Ellisadded, with a nod towards youngLùcas, who castBryanan apologetic shrug and slunk away withElspethat his heels.

“Knocking down—what’s this?”Bryan’sfather demanded.

“Walls,Cameron, whole entire walls!Yourgreat grandaddy dug up those stones with his bare hands, and now they’ve been reduced to rubble.”

“They’re in the garden?—”

“There’ll be nothing left of that house once the lad’s finished, you mark my words,”Elliswent on.

“Whole walls,Ryan?”Bryanflinched. “Yousaid you were fixing things up a bit.Makingthem more green.”

Was itBryan’simagination or did his father actually sneer at the wordgreen?

“I-I-I—” he struggled, and a wave of nausea washed over him as the crowd of angry neighbors grew larger and the pipes and drums and fiddles all faded into a foggy buzz.

“What does knocking down walls have to do with distilling whisky?” his father demanded.

“You’d do better to keep renting it to tourists.”

Oh good,Caithad entered the chat.

“It’s an experiment,”Bryanblurted out, closing his eyes immediately, anticipating the backlash at his poor choice of words.

“An experiment!” someone exclaimed. “Onthe oldest house on the island?”

“Knocking out walls is an experiment,Ryan?What’snext, lighting the place on fire?”NellieCombedemanded.

“Experiment on the mainland, why don’t you?”

Christ, he couldn’t breathe.Everyeffort made his lungs feel tighter and his head lighter.Heopened and closed his palm, stopping short of twisting his kilt in anxious, empty fingers.

“Not exp-exp-experiment,” he said. “Ap-p-proof of c-c-c— proof of conce-concept.”

If a fault line could crack open and swallow him into the ocean right about now, that would be perfect.Hehadn’t stammered this badly since he was a kid, not after his theater classes inGlasgow.

Bryan scanned the dance floor, again but he’d lost track ofTeàrlachandGrace.Hecouldn’t find her anywhere.

“What’s that,Ry?Wecan’t understand you when you stammer,” fuckingMitchellMurrayfrom karaoke shouted, and suddenlyBryanwas ten years old again, fighting on the playground.

“Proof.Of.Concept,” he gritted out.

“Proof of concept, he says,”Ellishollered. “What’sthat supposed to mean,RyanMacNeil?D’youplan to knock down my wall next?Tearup every old house onBarra?”

OldNellieCoombegasped. “Iwon’t stand for it!Youstay well away from my house, do you hear me,RyanMacNeil?Iwon’t stand for it!”

“Aye, no, none of us will,”Ellisagreed.

“I d-d—It’sn-nothing to d-do with you,”Bryanargued.

“Calm down,Ry, take a breath,”Caitsaid, in a way that he supposed was meant to be soothing, butBryanjerked as though she’d slapped him, his breaths growing more and more shallow.

---