In came Cathy, followed by her daughter, and then their dog. Clary smiled at the dog, reaching out to scratch behind his hears in response to his greeting. "Hey boy." she said happily, setting down her Stele on the table but forgetting to lower her sleeves "Clary's fine, Mrs. McDonald, it's what most people call me." The only people or person who ever called her Clarissa regularly was her father, and he was now dead, much to her relief.
The kindness of this woman amazed her. She hadn't even said or done anything, or had a moment to react and there was a glass infront of her and Cathy was offering her a drink. Izzy was a lucky girl, and it made her miss her own mom. "Juice would be great, actually." she said, glancing at the the orange liquid in the other two glasses. "And I'm fine, just drawing a little." Clary glanced to the unfinished drawing of her Angel, or Jace, or the mixture of both. Whoever it was. Maybe someday she'd be as good as her mother, but she knew she had talent.
"How are you two?" she asked, directing her gaze to first Cathy and then Izzy.