one more cup of coffee to go WHO: Helena & Zachary WHERE: Coffee shop WHEN: Early in the morning
The early-morning-before-school-walk was a routine for Helena and Methuselah. She wasn't exactly a morning person but she didn't mind waking up early to get things done. She usually rose with the sun, which had been just the way she was since she was about eight or so. And unless she'd had a really hard night the day before, it still remained part of her sleep-and-wake cycle. Throwing a quick stretch in before starting her walk, she held her dog's leash tight and started wandering through Scarlet Oak. The city itself was fairly safe, she'd heard, as far as getting plucked off the street or getting stabbed. Nowadays, the biggest worry was a hate crime for being different (whether you were a vanilla human or otherwise, really). She wasn't worried, though, because Methuselah usually deterred most assailants. True, the poor thing was old as molasses and blind in one eye, but his hulking size was enough to scare bad thoughts out of someone's head if they weren't paying too close attention. It suited her just fine. Throwing an upbeat song on her iPod as she walked away from her locked townhouse at Cherryblossom Place, she started jogging to the beat slowly as Methuselah walked next to her.
They had gone a decent way when Helena decided that orange juice blended in ice seemed like a great idea. It was actually a fairly sunny day out so she could justify getting a cold drink. Checking the time on her iPod, she found she still had some time to stop at a coffee shop before she really needed to rush home and get ready for school. After all, it was supposed to be flashback day and she needed just a little extra time to do her hair today so it would fit properly under the pillbox hat she'd found for the occasion. The 1950s were about as close to the Civil War Era as she could get without having to wear a petticoat. Helena, of course, owned one for whenever she did the tours of the plantation with her father but she was fairly certain she'd left that ridiculous gown back in Georgia. Reaching the coffee shop, she tied Methuselah to a nearby lamppost loosely. She knew the dog wasn't going anywhere, though she tied him up for the law's sake and for the comfort of other people. If nothing else, Helena tried to be a good dog owner.
Retuning outside with a gigantic plastic cup of OJ and ice (and a croissant in a napkin), she left her headphones around her neck as she went to retrieve Methuselah. "Good stay, Bud," she cooed at her bloodhound as she fed him a piece of her pastry. Okay, not the best thing in the world for an aging dog but, hey, Methuselah had lived a darn good life and he deserved a treat once in a while. She was about to take one of the empty tables outside when Methuselah's tail started wagging furiously. She looked over and saw a man sitting in one of the outside tables with a dog. Methuselah barked. "What is it, Bud?" she asked, curiously. Her dog was not really one to play with younger animals, preferring to chew on his plastic toy ring alone. And, of course, it didn't really cross Helena's mind that the dog could possibly be barking at the random smell coming from the stranger. With no real thought other than most fellow dog owners were really nice people, she approached the stranger and smiled. "Hi! That's a very handsome German Shepherd you have," she complimented. "May I pet him?"