Maura Evans


The wedding was beautiful.  It really was.  The sky was clear, the sun was shining and the birds were singing.  A storybook afternoon.  But Patrick (that’s my husband) was the only thing I was feeling doubt about.  That feeling had been mounting and mounting for a few months now.  But I couldn’t have called the wedding off only one month ahead of time, now could I?


Regina.  Such a beautiful name.  It means queen in Latin, and that she is.  When I first lay eyes on her two years ago, I knew she was the girl I would marry.  Her eyes, full of mystery, and her pale skin luminous like moonlight.  And you know what is great about my wife Regina?  Everything is perfectly planned out.  I mean, take our honeymoon for example.  It's planned to the very last coffee break at a local café.  It will be a week in Scotland, staying in a cabin on a lake.  I can just imagine the boat rides, a visit to the Cawdor Castle, a hike up Ben Nevis Mountain and possibly some bagpipe music.  I would even wear a kilt if she asked me to since I love her that much.


We, my wife and I, arrived at our quaint bread and breakfast around eight o’clock on Monday night.  Exhausted from our day’s journey on Scottish Airlines with quite a few nasty flight attendants, we immediately plopped down on our bed and slept.  Regina, of course, snored obnoxiously the entire night.

I awoke early the next morning to the smell of cooking bacon.  Slipping out of bed and into my sweatshirt, I left the room.  Tip-toeing down the stairs, I stepped out the door to a blast of brisk air.  Brrrr, it’s cold in Scotland.  After a quick stroll down the lane, I turned around to head back.  Scotland is so pretty with the rolling hills, green fields and many cows.  It’s a place of absolute peace.  Regina picked such a perfect location!

Arriving back at the bed and breakfast, I found Regina already settled at the breakfast table with a few other guests.  After introducing me to everyone, we proceeded to eat a typical Scottish breakfast of eggs, bacon and black pudding.  Regina seemed rather chummy towards the young man sitting next to her, but it must have been my imagination.  Twenty minutes later, Regina and I headed upstairs to gather our gear for our day’s excursion, a trip to Urquhart Castle on the shores of Lake Ness.

Two hours passed before we arrived at our destination – a surprisingly modern Urquhart Castle.  It overlooked the murky lake, which was not very attractive.  There were many people gathered among the shores, shouting and pointing with their binoculars.

I asked Regina, who was staring into the distance, “What are all those people doing?”

Regina came out of her daze and said, “What?”

“Regina,” I said, “you seem so distracted.  What’s the matter?”

“Oh, nothing, darling,” she replied with a smile. “I’m just thinking about how happy I am to be married to you!”

“Oh, how sweet!” I answered.

"Look at the time!  It’s almost twelve! Time for lunch!” Regina piped.

“I think we should eat on the shores of the lake, so we can enjoy our lunch by the water!” she said as she grabbed my arm forcefully and steered me down to the water’s edge.

I started to sit down facing the water, but Regina quickly stopped me.

“You sit with your back to the water, dear, so the sun isn’t in your eyes.  I have my sunglasses,” Regina said.

I obeyed and switched spots with her, gazing up at all the people on the beach.

One of the children nearby, particularly excited, said, “Is it true, Mommy?  Does it exist?”

Regina, hearing this, laughed to herself.

She turned to the little boy, saying under her breath, “I sure hope so.”


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