"The cats moved in when Khaat did," he laughed. "Brian's place was a bachelor estate--much too big of one--before she moved in, with Abbey and Dakota--and Max and Mo. Max is a big white cat, and Mo is an even bigger orange tabby. The kids love them. And the cats really do love the kids. They seem to want to parent the kids and raise them like their kittens. When Abbey crawled, we had a devil of a time keeping her out of the kibble bowl."
"My father has a big compound just on the Mediterranean coast. We all live there together. Everyone's got their own apartment around the compound, but its all together, around a large center courtyard. Its got vegetable and herb gardens, a small vineyard, and...well, lots of space for lots of generations. And lots of guest apartments. Friends are always welcome. Maybe in the spring, we might need to take that trip and see the beach and take a trip out on one of the luxury yachts. Rose would love the trip. There are so many little kids her age at the compound, and never a loss for all sorts of 'aunts' and 'uncles' and 'grandpas', with all sorts of fun."
He was glad that she hadn't connected that his last name was Donohue. There weren't that many Donohues in the wizarding world--and he was related to the most famous of them. Edward Donohue. His grandfather. The famous slayer of bloodthirsty, evil werewolves. He'd made his fortune in the employ of governments all across England and the continent, getting rid of "problem" werewolves. Edward was retired now, and Tuscany had provided the peaceful refuge that the elder Donohue sought to provide a paradise for his family for generations to come. And a paradise, it was. Or at least Angus thought so.
"Angus," Marcus called, "Our order is here, and so is hers."
"Since the two of you are here by yourselves, why don't you just join us at our table?" Angus invited Isobella and Rose to have lunch with them.