With Rome and Scotland at peace for two years, MacLarry had enjoyed many opportunities to visit their neighbors, particularly the Greek inventor, Archiemedes, who worked as the royal inventor for the emperor. Usually, people advised against meeting one's heroes, but Archiemedes was a swell guy with strong morals, and he and his wife, Loveymedes, had welcomed the son of Chog Norrius and encouraged his gift for inventing. When MacLarry married his childhood friend, MacTunia, the asparaguses were among the top of the guest lists, and Archiemedes had gifted them with a new invention which he called a toaster oven.
One summer, the asparagus couple invited MacLarry to visit them in Rome for a week while Archiemedes worked on a new invention. MacTunia had not been feeling well lately, and so MacLarry thought a change of scenery (and the care of Roman physicians) would benefit her. To his delight, she seemed to perk up after a single checkup from Archiemedes' doctor friend, and she had spent the next two days shopping and exploring the city with Loveymedes while their husbands tinkered in Archiemedes' laboratory.
One evening, the Caledonian couple had enjoyed dinner with their Greek hosts, who afterwards invited them to play a few party games, including Pictionary, which had proved interesting.
"The one you did with the barn picture sure stumped me," MacLarry chuckled later as he and MacTunia headed toward the guest quarters of the Roman villa. "I'm almost kicking myself that I took so long to figure out what you meant."
MacTunia smiled, leaning against him.
"I'm so blessed to have a creative wife," MacLarry added, gripping her waist in a side hug. He meant it. MacTunia might not have grown up loving inventing like he had, but she had plenty of creative gifts. She used to come up with some of the best pranks (and the worst haircuts) back when their clan fought the Romans, and she was great at problem solving. After the Barber-barians made peace with their foes, she had developed her barber talents to become a top-notch hairdresser, with many Roman ladies traveling over just to visit her salon.
Side by side, walking along the colonnade of the villa's inner court, one might not have expected them to have much in common aside from the red tartan each wore. MacLarry, while taller than some of their clan members, was easily the puniest cucumber in his family, dwarfed by his father in both stature and prominence. He also wore round, brown glasses, and he was often quiet and thoughtful. He had little upper body strength and did not possess much grace or dexterity. MacTunia, while lithe and shorter than her husband, managed to stand apart through sheer will and fortitude. Although conventionally feminine, she also had the touch of a tomboy; she used to go on pranking expeditions with the men in their clan, unleashing terrible haircuts on their victims with deft invisible hands and a lioness's fearlessness. She was also the bonniest lass in the village, with red hair like autumn, which she kept in a long braid, and a darling face that could be as sweet as tayberry jam when she gazed at MacLarry.
MacLarry had loved her ever since he was old enough to notice girls, but it had not been until after he had proven himself as an inventor that he had dared to approach her. When he finally confessed his long-held feelings, her mild response had been, "What took you so long? I've been waiting for you to say something for the past twelve years."
Earlier that evening, MacLarry had been privileged to see her undiscovered skill for Pictionary, when the playing field was even. At the start, Archiemedes had loaded up the word choices with selections like "mechanical theorems" and "hydrostatics" and "neusis construction." MacLarry had done pretty well, since he had read the inventor's bestseller cover to cover, but he could tell his competitive wife struggled, even though she hid her disappointment behind a polite smile.
"You know, Archiemedes," he had diplomatically said, "as an inventor, I'm enjoying these words, but have you thought about maybe trying some Scots lingo some time? We got all kinds of cool words. Kirk, blether, bonnie, scran, crabbit…"
"Ah." Archiemedes nodded, thoughtfully reaching down to scratch one of his cocker spaniels who had settled at his feet. "That could be interesting."
"As long as there is a glossary available for us to guess from," Loveymedes put in, pulling the second dog onto her lap. "You two would have the advantage over us, otherwise."
MacTunia's eyes had suddenly lit up. "I know a good one." She turned to her husband with a cute smile while addressing their hosts. "I want to see if MacLarry can guess it."
Archiemedes and Loveymedes had heartily agreed, and MacTunia had taken her place with a red marker. She had first drawn a barn that filled up the top half of the large notepad. With a black marker, she had drawn a line down the very center. Below the line, she had made a caret with the letter "i" beneath it.
"Barn with an i in it?" MacLarry had guessed.
His wife had given him encouraging looks, but he kept puzzling over it. With three specks of sand left in the hourglass, MacLarry finally had a moment of clarity.
"Oh! Bairn!"
"Ding, ding!" MacTunia had beamed.
"Well, that is a jolly cute word," Loveymedes had remarked. "What does it mean?"
MacLarry had expected MacTunia to answer, but to his surprise, she ducked her head, smiling bashfully.
He had jumped in, turning to the she-asparagus, "They're what we call kids."
"Bairns are baby goats then?"
Archiemedes had smiled at his wife. "I think our friend means 'children,' darling."
"Oh! Isn't that lovely?" she had exclaimed, with posh elation. "Bravo, MacTunia. Jolly good choice."
"Thank you," the rhubarb had murmured.
"Quite brilliant," Loveymedes had added, with a sly wink, "if your intention is what I think it is."
MacLarry did not know why his bride looked suddenly embarrassed. Archiemedes' eyes had snapped toward his own wife before he had turned to MacTunia's drawing with a look of admiration.
"Clever."
The game had progressed. Each time it was MacTunia's turn, she picked Scottish words for her husband to guess: wean, wee bara, wee yin. Each time MacLarry had announced the solution, Archiemedes and Loveymedes had found them "brilliant" and "just terribly clever," even though the words themselves were fairly simple ones.
Now, as MacLarry reflected on the evening, he tried to figure out why MacTunia, who was fairly competitive, had not tried to teasingly stump him with harder words. Granted, the "barn with an i in it" drawing had stumped him due to its sheer simplicity, but he could not help noticing a pattern.
When they reached their room, he shot his wife a puzzled smile. "MacTunia, why did you keep picking synonyms tonight?"
She grinned back. "You noticed?"
"Well, yeah. Bairn, wean, wee barra, wee yin," he listed. "They all refer to children."
Her eyes sparkled, and she turned away, strolling over to her side of the guest bed.
"Fancy that," she said airily.
"And, believe me, your drawings were great," he assured her, "but after I caught on, I got faster at guessing. Usually, you don't go that easy on me."
She hummed, taking out her hair ties to undo her braid before bed.
"You weren't going easy on me, were you?" he asked, stepping after her. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but you like challenging me to be the best version of myself."
She looked at him, then away. She hummed louder, and he recognized the tune as an old lullaby that was popular in their village. He tilted his head, surveying her. He had the distinct feeling she had started a new game without telling him, and it was his job to figure out the clues.
Her humming changed to whistling as she ran a comb through her bonnie hair.
Lullaby, bairn, wean… He scrunched up his face, puzzled as to why she was interested in nursery-related stuff all of a sudden.
…And then his eyes bulged behind his glasses.
He staggered back, goggling at her serene, almost mischievous features.
"Are you saying… are you not saying" — his words barely knew how to jump off his tongue — "you are… we are… we're having… a bairn of our own?"
She chuckled. "Took you long enough, Smarty Kilt."
His jaw dropped.
Her smile widened. "Amazing what these Roman physicians can find out."
At once he remembered. His wife had seemed a lot more livelier after Archiemedes' doctor friend had looked her over. MacLarry had chalked it up to the advanced medicines in Rome, but clearly… clearly…
He plopped onto the bed, his mind in a jumble.
MacTunia, still holding her comb, sat down beside him. After a few strokes, she said, lightly, "Chog Norrius will be happy to have a grandbairn, don't you think?"
MacLarry turned, staring at her. Despite the serenity on her face, he caught a glint in her eyes. That hint of excitement — that hint of love, warmth, hope for their future — brushed away the shock from his mind. His mouth widened into an open smile.
He leapt to his feet with a whoop of joy, causing her to laugh, her face now shining. He scooped her up into his nonexistent arms, swinging her around the guest room. There was no need for lengthy words; she had given him exactly the one he needed to express his heart's delight.
"Bairn! Bairn! Bairn!"
THE END