There was an exasperated raise of his brows. He had not seen a pregnant woman up this close, and by God he wished it had stayed that way. But the day to make certain the unthinkable did not pass had quite passed and came to a new sunset: what now? What now that his brother lived in sin? What now of this woman, who may or may not be of their people? What now, that this child be born to haunt them all as a constant reminder of human error?

The woman might yet pass – or Hashem might will it that the child never see sunlight, and even she might have a second chance at life. Especially if it were born in that sweat, and that mud!

But until then, the child was no less their duty than an orphan on a doorstep.

“I see,” he said to Uriel with an expression not unfamiliar to him: that of being thoroughly unimpressed.

He made no move to take her hand.

“Zechariah Meijer,” he introduced plainly. “… Not calamitous,” no thanks to her. “I doubt I need to tell you to make yourself comfortable.”

The butler had draped a sheet over the couch and its nice throw pillows (but alas, it would be taken away by the time Menachem was bleeding all over it), and Zechariah took a seat across from it at the coffee table.

“B’sha-ah tova,” he sighed. “When do you marry?”

The butler ambled by with a tray of three glasses and a table wine what with Victorian stances on drinking essentially being ‘the earlier, the better’. The cork came out without a fight or corkscrew, and it looked to be a third gone as it were.

Kitty rose a brow and clicked her tongue when she had to withdraw it. A small glance at Uriel with a smile on her lips then back to the older brother. "It's a show biz name. I went and had it officially changed, didn't care much for my real one anyway... and you would be right!"

She dropped down upon the sofa and stretched out her legs a bit. When he spoke she looked confused but then smiled more. "You don't care fondly of talking to women or am I just the lucky one? We woulda booked an appointment but not sure you'd have allowed it." 

She poured herself a glass but didn't take it yet.

"He would have allowed it... reluctantly." He said and then shot her a wink before settling in next to her. He easily wrapped an arm around her and before he would reply to his brother, he murmured to her, "Are you comfortable, dear?" His concern was genuine and it reflected upon his face.

Then to his brother, he gave a serious but tired and wary look. "Well, there is a hiccup in our plans but it's going to happen before the baby comes. She's... Catholic. As in, she was trying to become a nun and I converted her to the church of Uriel couldn't help but to woo her away because it would have been a shame for someone as wonderful as her to waste away in a habit." He wasn't smiling, he was serious. It was clear he wasn't merely smitten, he was, and one could see it in the way he treated her, deeply moved by the strangely wonderful creature that was Kitty Calamity.

Judging by the flat look, Mr. Meijer was entirely unsurprised by her willingness to soil his couch.

“I would have,” he said blandly.

It was hard to tell whether he deliberately chose to ignore their sarcasm or simply missed it in its entirety.

He was not thrilled by this turn of events – not by a long shot. His disapproval was etched in the hunch of his shoulders, and further written in the way his hands hovered with intent over his drink before clasping them together instead. He supposed Uriel had always had his own way of things.

Uriel could have pulled a Menachem, caring only for himself and rutting around in who knew what prison gutters, never to be seen again (and thank God for that!). Instead … well. He made the sort of mistake Zechariah might have, had he been more ‘fond’ of talking to women and less fond of planning. And thinking. And trying to be better than Chaim.

Alright. Maybe not. Still. Perhaps there was still hope. Not nearly as much hope, but... some.

“There is...” Zechariah pursed his lips, then finally let himself lift his glass, “a temple, in West Yorkshire.”

It was a modest place – a place a man could hardly find without specifically looking for it.

“They are a strange sort … but they bat not an eye. I … suspect the Rabbi would give you his blessing.”

"Oh.. oh no.. you see.. " Kitty smiled more, almost as if tempting to egg on Zech. Wanting to find out what would make the man who struggled to remain calm, to explode.

"He is going to be married here.. in the Catholic church." She squeezed Uriel's arm affectionately. "After he is converted, of course. Father Richards is a very nice man who is tickled pink to help us to speed things along.' She wouldn't mention the fact he had offered on his own. It would be easier if she simply acted like it was her idea and take the brunt of his brother's judgement. She could see in his eyes he thought badly of her.

He blinked at her laying out what the plan was as if trying to rile Zech up. He gave a wide eyed glance and then sputtered, "I know I said I would," he then lay his hand on her arm and murmured, "But we are being presented with another option and I think maybe we should hear him out. Just... listen. Please." He presented her with the genuine plea in his eyes. "We don't have to change our minds, but we should at least know."

Adonai had His reasons, and it was too soon to say whether or not she would die in childbirth.

Not that he was hoping.

… Much.

Some coquettish howling cat had seduced his brother from the gutters, but Uriel was no longer a boy. He was a man, and it was upon him to learn from his own mistakes. He wiped condensation from his glass with his thumb.

“It is an eccentric movement that hardly even keeps the calf from soaking in its mother’s milk … but they do not practice the stingy pittances that the churches here call ‘alms’.”

The temples did tend to have food at every hour of worship but fasts, and much of it.

“Penina is in town. It would be... quaint, but your child would be blessed and have cousins.”

He was still praying in hopes that ‘Humphries’ was not of entirely goyish heritage. Either way, the mother was more important.

Kitty looked surprised as Uriel almost begged her to reconsider. She grinned and hugged him the best she could. "Don't be silly. The wedding doesn't matter ta me so much as the fact we are married. If you want it there, it is your choice.""

She eyed Zech ,"Yeah? Tell me if your place don't have alms how do they pay their upkeep and help the people with no money?"

"I want to know about it as an option, that is all. I am thinking about our baby more than us." There was one thing they couldn't say against Uriel, he would never abandon his children. He seemed to have relaxed even still with her reassurance, his hand moving to touch hers.

While many would have been properly intimidated by Kitty’s interrogation, yet another Meijer took an awkward question at face value. He set his drink down, reached to top off their glasses, then folded his hands together when he realized said glasses did not yet need topping off.

“Certainly. Members of a synagogue typically pay annual dues, like a library.” Well, a good library. “As for the poor, access to services – which include food,” God, he was still horrified by Hurley’s old church without so much as a loaf of bread in sight, “is open to all regardless of ability to pay.”

His eyes shifted back to Uriel, and this time Zechariah did drink from his glass.

“As has been the case since our people escaped Egypt … your child will face less obstacles than you and I were he or she raised as a gentile instead.”