[thd] i'll pour the water if you bring the tree [millie]

A cold glass of scotch in one hand, his wife's in the other, Ernie was in his own little heaven. It didn't matter that Ernie hardly knew who the relative was that they had traveled to St. Paul to celebrate; he was with family, and that was all that really mattered. A sonata was just wrapping up, and though the pianist was in the next room, Ernie had been listening intently, squeezing Millie's hand occasionally and almost impulsively whenever a particular emotive suspension was carried into the room, unable to experience the music alone. Ernie set his glass back down as the final chords were played, clapping against his knee rather than with two hands so he didn't have to release his wife. When the applause died down and the next piece began, a much less expressive rondo that Ernie could more easily ignore, he lifted the drink back to his lips and readjusted on the sofa cushion, turning in just slightly so that he could return his full attention to his partner.

"Did you need anything more to drink?" he asked attentively, looking over at the drink in Millie's hand. Her glass wasn't empty, but he thought he ought to ask, just in case she needed anything. "What did we end up bringing as a gift? I suppose it was a bit hard to shop for Uncle Arnold. Or great-cousin, or whatever he is," he added, furrowing his brow as he looked over at the table of gifts. All in all, the packages made for a rather eclectic collection -- various sizes and wrapping styles piled in a rather unstable-looking stack. He could easily guess, however, which might have come from Millie: a rather small one that was wrapped with the utmost care and attention to detail. Paper that was cut perfectly straight, edges folded together so that the pattern continued seamlessly over the entire box. Ernie felt he might like to keep an eye on the gifts as long as he was sitting there, in case the pile toppled over and needed saving. Such a spell would be second-nature to him.

@Mildred Franklin

Millie tipped her glass towards her as she surveyed the contents, the chardonnay still taking up half the volume. It wasn’t exactly her favorite type of red wine, but she wasn’t going to say no to maybe getting it topped off just a little bit. “Yes, thanks,” she replied sweetly, giving Ernie’s hand a squeeze with her own. But she didn’t let go of her glass or his hand, quite willing to prolong a full glass for a few more minutes more. She had always enjoyed Ernie’s piano playing, but the look on his face when he was listening to a piece played well was priceless.

She may have had to research just how, exactly, they were related to these particular Franklins, but she was thrilled to find that the musical talent was so widespread. “Your fourth cousin twice removed, sweetheart.” Millie leaned in to whisper in her husband’s ear, more than happy to offer up his relation information, just one more time. “Your fourth-great-grandfather is his great-great-grandfather.” She had had over four decades to delve into his family history, much as she enjoyed doing for her own family. It was good to know where you came from.

But that wasn’t the important thing here. Millie followed Ernie’s gaze with her own, a small smile playing on her lips as she knew he had picked out the one from them. Dark green paper with a silver paisley pattern made the small box look rather more impressive. “Hand tatted and embroidered handkerchiefs and pocket squares,” she added, her eyes twinkling the slightest bit as she silently congratulated herself for her thoughtfulness.

“Shall we mingle?” She nodded towards the bar cart more than anything else, but it might be a good idea to roam the rooms a little bit more. She stood up slowly, not letting go of Ernie’s hand until she was walking away towards the liquor, her eyes already scanning for his preferred scotch.

"Ah, yes," Ernie agreed, completely trusting Millie's words. He'd already lost track of how many times "great" and "removed" factored into the relationship, but he knew he could count on Millie to keep such things in mind for him. She was like his second brain, the perfect complement for his mind. It might have seemed odd to someone on the outside that Ernie and Millie had even received an invitation to the birthday party of someone so distantly related, but Ernie wasn't phased. He'd been around Arnold often enough as a kid. Most anyone who was a part of the music business was in and out of the main shop in St. Paul frequently enough for Ernie to have learned their name, even if he was never quite clear on who exactly they were.

As Millie pulled them up to do a loop, Ernie leaned in for a swift kiss on the cheek. "Lovely," he told her, the word applying to her excellent gift-giving skills, her suggestion that they take a turn about the room, and the general elegance with which she was carrying herself that evening. The pair moved toward the beverage cart, not needing to specifically state their destination in order for it to happen. They just knew one another well enough by now. Ernie refilled his wife's glass carefully, the golden-green liquid pouring from the end of his wand as it depleted itself from the bottle. He then proceeded to top off his own glass, just in case they didn't make it back to the cart anytime soon.

Cousins and nephews and in-laws abounded, and Ernie did his best to keep up with Millie. She knew his family better than he did at this point. He simply smiled along, enjoying the conversation and allowing Millie to direct the topics whenever he blanked on the particular interests of whichever third-cousin's wife who they happened to be talking to in the moment. Ernie was just getting into an exciting conversation about recent developments in magical creature enclosures (wondering whether any might be modified for his own dog) when a crash from upstairs caught his attention. The whole room quieted as bang after bang came echoing down the stairs. A few witches ran up the stairs, clearly hoping to investigate and discipline children as necessary, but Ernie was already looking outside. Bright flashes of colored lights were illuminating the porch, clearly shining out into the front yard from the upstairs window. Ernie slid the door open for Millie to step out, thinking that whatever was going on upstairs, it would need quick covering-up before the neighbors phoned the police.

Carrying on the conversations with the hodgepodge of Franklins was as easy as pie. Millie remembered those small details, like how Rose had an abundant garden of lavender and how Gladys had won first prizes for her roses more than once. She asked after children and grandchildren and had her own carefully curated anecdotes to offer in return. Ernie’s hand never left her own and she wouldn’t have changed a thing.

But if she had thought that getting out of the home for the evening would get her away from stray charms ‘for science’, she had been poorly mistaken. She knew all too well the truth behind the ‘too many cooks in the kitchen’ theory and she held back, rather than bounding upstairs with the gaggle of witches who had gone to investigate. It seemed Ernie was thinking along the same lines, or at least somewhat, as he motioned outside.

She let go of his hand almost reluctantly as she stepped out the door onto the front porch, taking a few slow steps backwards as she craned her neck to peer at the upstairs window. The multitude of colors were coming from the window above the garage, coupled with a few, now audible bangs and crashes. Transferring her glass of wine to her left hand, she fetched her wand after doing a quick check on their surroundings. A few quick spells reinforced the wall and window, knowing it would be much harder to explain a missing or broken window than the lights.

As the lights upstairs died down, red and blue lights joined in behind them, and Millie stowed her wand and turned around slowly, taking a long sip from her glass of wine as a rather small but burly looking police officer walked towards them.

Ernie mirrored his wife, pulling out his own wand as she did. Without a word, Ernie set to silently casting a complicated illusion charm over the window (such that anyone who peered inside from across the street would see only the children snuggled in bed) while Millie worked her magic on the house. It was just like her to put the home, and the safety of the family, first. It was only when he had finished the job that he looked back down at her, having known full well he needed concentration to get the job done. Working under pressure was never his strong suit, but having Millie at his side, backing him up, made the whole thing easier.

The approaching lights made Ernie turn, worried for a moment as he saw their reflection that he had made an error. The blue and red alternating pattern took a moment to recognize, but he stepped closer to Millie once he did. They could protect one another in such a situation. "Ought we to disapparate?" he asked, unsure what her preference might be but feeling himself that it would be no good to get themselves too entrenched in something that might blow over easily without their involvement. The last time he had been stopped by police, it had been in New York. But that had been an entirely non-magical situation. It was a short moment of opportunity, and they would have to act quickly to take advantage of it before the police officer caught sight of them. But the neighbors heads were poking out from behind the curtain across the street, and he knew it was impossible.

"Good evening," Ernie called calmly to the woman who stepped out of the car that had parked just in front of the house. His hand was still on his wand, tucked casually into the edge of his pocket in case he needed it. He leaned over to Millie, whispering urgently. "A memory charm would do the trick, do you think?" Whether this was ethical, Ernie wasn't sure, but the paperwork involved in such a solution might be quicker to file than that for exposing magical fireworks to a street full of neighbors.

Millie didn’t have time to consider apparation, the time between Ernie’s question and the officer walking towards them too small a window. But a memory charm would certainly do the trick, especially if it kept the family out of trouble. It wouldn’t be the first time they had bent the rules for the sake of family; she could clearly recall one Christmas in the seventies she ran out of powdered sugar for frosting her father’s preferred cake and she just so happened to ‘stumble upon an unlocked but closed’ grocery store. Millie nodded in agreement, almost imperceptibly, but she was sure that Ernie could see it.

She took a step forward, offering the officer a warm and welcoming smile. “Evenin’ Officer,” she said sweetly, her eyes flicking to the woman’s nameplate, “Holloway.” She caught the officer’s eye and widened her smile. “What a small world, my mother is a Holloway! You wouldn’t happen to know any Holloways out of Atlanta, now would you?” Her mother had been born a Brewton, but true stories weren’t necessary when all one wanted to do was create a distraction.

Her smile dipped into the slightest frown as the officer confirmed that she didn’t know any Holloways outside of St. Paul and didn’t waste any time before leaping into her rehearsed line of questioning. “Oh no, my husband,” she indicated to the man behind her, “have been out here for a good while.” She lowered her voice and leaned in, “You know how exhausting family functions with the in-laws can be, I’m sure.” She straightened up and indicated with her empty hand to a house across the street. “But now that you mention it, I do think I heard something coming from that general direction.” She nodded once again once the officer had turned to look where she was pointing.

With Millie's approval, Ernie gained confidence in their plan. He had complete faith that his wife would lead them down the right path: all he had to do was the wandwork to make it happen. As Millie moved forward, he followed, sliding an arm gently around her waist to complete their image as a wholesome, aging couple to ease the suspicions of the officer. Even in the moment when he ought to be preparing to work, Ernie took the time to appreciate the ease with which Millie picked up a conversation with a complete stranger. She was truly the perfect partner -- in life and in crime.

When the woman turned, Ernie pulled his wand out in a flash. The silent charm sent a warm breeze out of his wand tip. He knew it had worked instantly: the officer looked back at them, dazed and confused, before pulling out her police radio and staring blankly at it.

"Perhaps you were looking for Grand in Minneapolis," Ernie offered kindly, citing a road of similar name on the other side of the river. "You might want to call back in that we're just fine here." The woman nodded vaguely before moving back toward her car. The neighbors were still peeking down at them from their upper apartments, but Ernie didn't mind. He took his wife's hand once more, and gently pulled her back toward the front door. With a wink and a smile he led them back inside, ready to resume their position on the small couch beside the fire.

[out]

Millie extended her smile as the officer looked back at her, clearly not knowing what she was looking for. She hadn’t doubted for a second that he would be successful with his charm; if he couldn’t do it, then honestly, who could? It would only be a few minutes of memory, she was sure. A small price to pay to keep the family out of trouble.

She leaned into her husband, turning her smile towards him as the other woman went through her motions. She nodded along as Ernest spoke, as if she, too, had an expert knowledge of the layout of the Twin Cities. “Just fine,” she repeated, driving the point home. She offered a small wave to the onlookers across the street, reassuring them as well that everything here was just peachy. Taking Ernest’s hand, Millie willingly followed him inside to the party, already looking forward to that next glass of wine.

[[ done! ]]