outfit

The puppy had been a mutually beneficial house-warming gift to the house that needed no warming. But with Dennis sharing her bed, and a nursery yet to be painted, Tilly felt as if she'd moved without actually moving. There were closets to clean out, cabinets to child-proof, and couches to... well, whatever people did with sofas when they were having new babies. Tilly rather liked her old sofa and thought it just peachy, so there would probably be little more refurbishing than a new knit throw laid over its worn upholstery. For her mother's peace of mind.

The dog, really, had been for her father's peace of mind. And because Tilly had fallen in love, as she often did while prancing the street with a guitar case or a box of records of a watch that told she was running late to a meeting with a client. Children and small animals had that effect on her. And Jacoba had seemed to encourage the idea when Tilly brought it up. Who didn't love dogs? And what dog didn't love music? Dennis, as usual, had been chill and agreeable, his warm and easygoing self. The dog was theirs to raise.

It was good practice, Tilly convinced herself, as she smiled at it trotting along beside her. Her belly was more swollen now, showing in the obvious way it hadn't done before. A month ago, it might have taken a few seconds to register the difference between pregnancy and a large meal. It might have required the cradling of her hands, that protective look in her eyes. Now it was just plain obvious. Now strangers asked the requisite, girl or boy? And Tilly hesitated, for she didn't want the word to get back to Dennis, for whom it would be a surprise.

Her favorite cafe called to her even as the puppy pounced at a wind-dancing leaf and whined to be allowed to conquer it. "Hush, you," Matilda murmured lovingly, resisting the urge to cave to its sweet cry. "Next one, I promise," she added, already imagining herself something of a pushover in motherhood. Her child would be pierced and tattooed to China and back before it lost its Trace. And without much of a fight from Mummy dearest, most likely. Tilly hadn't the heart to really discipline a dog, either. Maybe it was just the big, floppy, fuzzy ears. That had to be it...

Taking a seat outdoors, under an umbrella, despite the cool, cloudy afternoon, she greeted a too-familiar waiter with a nod of thanks as the young man brought out a glass of water and scribbled Tilly's order-- now known by heart-- for the kitchen staff. "Hope you lot are having a good day, Brian," she called after him, and then sighed in relief, falling lightly into the chair's back. Pregnancy was killing her feet. "Oh, and could we have a second cup of water?" She added more loudly, gesturing apologetically to the puppy, who was now playing with the buckles of Tilly's boots.

Teething. Another horror of parenting.

outfit

Valentine's Day at Hogwarts had been a smashing success. Meredith was still buzzing from the event. Thins had gone equally well in London, at both Muggle and Wizarding establishments. And the week wasn't even out yet. There was still a little matter of a job she had picked up from Dazmond. Yes, this week was going fantastic, by Meredith's estimation.

She had been helping out in the bar at Calaveras when Alfie had tipped her off that Matilda Quinn was all alone at a cafe. Well, alone except for a dog. The poor squib probably had no idea that Meredith's workers had been keeping an eye on the pregnant shopkeeper for an opportunity.  It wouldn't do for something to happen to her in Meredith or Matilda's establishments. It was too delicate a job for that sort of thing. Which was precisely why Meredith was doing this herself instead of delegating someone else.

Meredith walked up to the Cafe, her cloak held tightly about her person. She was still in her usual work black and white apparel, though she had left behind her usual cleaver earrings at home. She needed to be as approachable as possible for this. Well, approachable as possible and normal.

She had made no effort to hide her distinctive scar. Any attempts to disguise would be both less effective and more suspicious. The whole idea was to approach Matilda as herself- she was a frequent patron of the Reducto Records. Squib or no, she had some of the best music selection in Diagon Alley and Meredith made full use of the stock and Matilda's music connections and knowledge when shopping for music to play at Spellpunk and Calaveras (Wizard and Muggle) and to indulge her own musical guilty pleasures.

Her current position made her the best candidate for Dazmond's special 'delivery'  and Meredith engaging the squib in conversation would hardly be suspicious. That didn't mean the job was without its risk- on the contrary. It would have to be perfectly executed, timed and planed so that no one would be none the wiser as to Meredith's role in the affliction Matilda was about to have.

It was almost enough to make Meredith feel sorry for the woman. Almost.

"Matilda, I must say you look absolutely glowing," Meredith said warmly, smiling to the woman as she approached the table. "The puppy is darling, is he new?"

Her hands moved from the now-slobbery boot buckles to the dog's scruffy head. She gave him a quick scratch, distracting him successfully, if only for a minute. It was all it took, really, that span of time: when Tilly looked back up, a familiar face was smiling warmly in greeting.

The puppy wasted no time.

Bouncing and pouncing and wagging, it attacked with promises of puppy breath kisses and dog-hair-littered couture coats.

"Bruce," she said, grinning sheepishly. She made to stand up, hand on her belly, and offered a light touch of her hand to Meredith's shoulder-- a friendly, Tilly-esque greeting to be sure. Meredith was a frequent customer with an edgy personal style and an ear for good tunes. She was also a good business partner, someone who kept the local music scene alive and kicking in that swanky, from-another-era venue of hers.

"Thanks. I feel like a brick, though!" Tilly added, looking from Meredith, to her belly, and back again as she sat down. She attempted to wrangle up the puppy in the process. Bruce squirmed, but turned his attention to Tilly's own face, fingers, and hair, giving her a polite lick before sniffing around her tangled mane. "How are you Meredith? Business seems brilliant from where I'm watching..." She tilted her head, smiling more tranquilly as she smoothed the setter's soft, spotty back. "Join me for a drink? We don't bite, I promise."