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"The lass gave him a right good smack, then she walked away."
Rebecca laughs, then nudges me. "I would love it if a man wooed me with a dagger. That's what 'sgian dubh' means, right?"
"Aye, it is. How did you know that?"
Our waitress approaches us then, suspending our discussion until we've reached our table. It's in a far corner of the café, just secluded enough to give us a wee bit of privacy. Thankfully, I hadn't spotted anyone I recognize as we wended our way to our table. I want this date to be something special for Rebecca, with no interfering family or friends causing complications.
Maybe I shouldn't have brought the lass to a popular restaurant. But Rebecca deserves a proper date.
"Do ye need time to browse the menu?" our waitress asks. She's a charming lass with fiery red hair, and she seems very professional. Her name tag identifies her as Bonnie.
I turn to Rebecca. "The café offers all the usual sort of fare. But they also have traditionally Scottish foods, if you're interested in that. How brave are you?"
She smiles with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You know the answer to that question. But why don't you order for us both? I trust your judgment."
"All right." I hand the menus back to Bonnie. "We'll have haggis, neeps, and tatties with a side of Scottish porridge. And give us fish and chips too. For dessert, we'll have cranachan."
"Would ye like anything to drink in the meantime? Other than water."
I consider her suggestion briefly, then the answer becomes obvious. "No. It'll be local Highland spring water please, for both of us. That is still what you offer here, aye?"
"Oh, aye. I'll fetch you two bottles."
As our waitress bustles away from us, Rebecca lifts her brows. "Local Highland water?"
"It comes from the spring that feeds Loch Fairbairn, the body of water the village takes its name from. You can only get this particular variety of spring water here in the village."
"Nobody distributes it to other parts of Scotland to sell?"
I shake my head. "To preserve the loch, the river that spills into it, and the spring that feeds the entire system, it was decided that only locals can draw water from the loch and only for local use."
Bonnie brings us our bottles of spring water and opens the metal caps for us. Then she tells us to "enjoy the fresh, sweet taste" right before she bustles away again. I take a sip first, in case Rebecca might be dubious about the taste of the water. But she doesn't hesitate at all. As I'm still swallowing my first sip, she has already downed two mouthfuls. She calls the spring water "mm-mm delicious," but she also asks me if the nameless river at Dùndubhan tastes as good as this---or better.
"The river water is better than anything else you'll ever taste. That's why I insisted on using only the spring water from Beann Dealgach as the source for my whisky."
"Is it safe to drink directly from the river? Or does it need to be filtered first?"
As I slide an arm across the top of our curved bench, I tug her a wee bit closer. "That river holds the sweetest, cleanest water on earth. When the weather gets warmer, we should swim in the river. Then you'll understand how special it is. All of Dùndubhan and the surrounding area hold magic within them."
"Oh, come on. You can't seriously be trying to convince me that your friend Rory's castle is on magical grounds."
"You loved my story about the legend of the Daoine Sith."
She takes a sip of water and points the bottle at me. "You know I don't actually believe all that stuff. Legends and myths are fun to read about or hear about, but they're not real."
I down a large swig of my water. "I give up. You American heathens have no imagination."
"You'd better hope that's not true, or our marketing campaign will crash and burn."
"Oh, that will never happen. You're a marketing genius." Before she can complain about what I said, I change the subject. "Tell me more about your children. They're fraternal twins. That's all I know."
Rebecca's expression lights up, as if a bulb has been switched on inside her. She clearly enjoys talking about her children. "Courtney and Eric are twenty-five, and they've been virtually inseparable since birth. Despite being fraternal twins, they behave as if they're identical. Not in their appearance. But in their behavior and the way they often seem to read each other's minds."
"Interesting. I assumed only identical twins did that."
"Have you ever met identical twins?"
"Aye. Richard and Nick Hunter, my British mates, are identical." Cannae stop myself from smirking. "They once played a joke on Maddie, who was Richard's fiancée at the time, by having Nick sneak up behind her and pretend he was Richard. It didn't work. Maddie is far too clever to fall for that trick."
