“So after you walked the first five hundred miles, you never thought ‘Maybe I’ve made a serious error in judgment?’, the raven-haired woman asked. She dipped a steak fry in a small container of honey dijon sauce and closed her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had anything other than fast food. “I mean, I certainly doubted. Which one of you–“
“Baith, actually,” one of her companions replied in a rolling Fife accent. “Ah was determined tae make thes grain gesture, an’ he knew Ah was haverin’ loch a numpty, but he also insisted ‘at oan makin’ th’ trip wi’ me. Guid eeg, mah brar.” He punched his twin lightly on the arm. The other man looked fairly proud.
“I’ve got a brother too. I love the guy, but I’m not sure he would’ve signed on for something like that.”
“Ah’m lucky. An’ yeah, Ah did doubt. More than once. But aam nae one tae quit halfway through, ye ken? We took a day, collected uir heids, an’ decided tae press on with th’other five hundred.” The Scot smiled, perhaps silently congratulating himself. “An’ whit abit ye? Dae ye still miss heem efter aw that walkin’? Or her, ay coorse.”
Vanessa Carlton chucked, the bracelet on her right arm dancing quietly. “I do. Honestly, though, if I turned around and realized she was at the next table, I’d probably whisper a few sweet nothings, give her a kiss, and ask if we could meet up tomorrow. And then I’d sit back down and just keep noshing this steak. I’m tired, you know?”
“Aye,” the second Proclaimer muttered. His feet and bones had filed frequent complaints regarding this subject. His brother nodded, pleased to stand in solidarity while sitting. “Ah’d tell ‘er ‘In a moment, woold-be recipient ay mah affection. Reit noo, a refill ay dr. pepper an’ a nap.'”
“Yes! Exactly!” Vanessa clapped her hands excitedly, relieved at not having to explain or defend. The three weary musicians raised their glasses in a toast, the finish line their victory.