Everleigh was dead asleep when her phone rang a little too loudly and woke her up. (Maverick would never need to know that she'd made her ringtone for him Lost in Translation.) (Stevie's was Abstract Blue—that one she'd be fine to admit.) Tokyo was gorgeous, and she probably should've been enjoying the nightlife, but the jetlag was hitting her hard. Returning to flying wasn't easy, especially after being grounded for clinical for so long.
Everleigh hummed as she swiped on her phone as she pressed it to her ear. "Hmmm, hello?"
"I'm so sorry, were you asleep?" Maverick asked. "It's really dark in there."
Everleigh winced. If she told him the truth, Maverick would hang up. Even though it had been a couple weeks since they'd been able to talk. She didn't really want that, but she could've probably fallen asleep within seconds. "Um. No?"
"You're a terrible liar and I can't even see your face."
"You're so mean, Mav." Everleigh's eyes widened. There were people with him. Oh, fuck. She'd heard that voice before. "You didn't even text her first?"
"Yeah, I taught you better than that." Whoever that was said something else in a language Everleigh didn't know. Her accent wasn't Canadian, but Everleigh couldn't place where in Asia it was from.
Maverick's "hey!" in response told her it wasn't anything nice. Probably didn't need translating.
Everleigh blindly fumbled around and flicked the bedside lamp on, pulling the phone away from her ear so she could see the video call. Her eyes squinted as they got used to the new light in the room. Everleigh tapped her phone to see what time it was—solid, midnight. "Um. Hi."
"Oh, Mav, she's so cute—"
"You could introduce yourself, Es—"
Oh, holy shit on toast. If that was Esmé, that meant the other woman in the video was Maverick's mother. Everleigh quickly tapped her screen to enlarge her image and see how she looked after just waking up. And, Jesus Christ, she had zit cream on. It wouldn't have mattered if it was just Maverick—well, it would've, but not as much—but to meet his mother without warning with zit cream dotted all over her face... Everleigh was going to vomit.
"You're the famous Everleigh," the older woman said. "I'm Margaret. You can call me Mags or mom or Peggy. Anything you'd like."
"I—um—hi—" Everleigh said. Mind moving a little too fast and a little too slow simultaneously. "Everleigh."
"We know," Esmé whispered.
Maverick had taken Everleigh far too literally when she'd said that the idea of meeting his family made her want to cry and so he should surprise her with a meeting. This was not what she had meant. She figured at some point she'd make her way to Windsor and agree to go for lunch with him, and magically his family would be there. Not a video call in the middle of the night while there was zit cream covering her face. Dear God.
Esmé looked like Maverick; same brown skin, same curly hair, same whiskey eyes. It was likely they were blood siblings and not simply adopted siblings. They even had the same sort of half smile that told Everleigh they thought she was being dorky and that they were enjoying it. (Little shits.) If she didn't know better, she'd think they might be twins.
Margaret looked about the same age as Troy; a couple years younger than Dawn. With a kind smile that wasn't judging. Dark, long hair that shone in the light of their house. There were a few wrinkles around her eyes from what was surely years of smiling. Everleigh appreciated that Margaret looked like she wasn't judging her.
"Everleigh, um, this is my mom and sister."
"Thank you so much for that, Kingston."
"Oh my God, she does call you Kingston—" Esmé said. "I thought you were lying about your little Brit calling you by the government."
Maverick's little Brit.
Maverick made a face. "Why would I lie about that?"
"That's adorable—" Esmé looked at Everleigh and grinned. "You're adorable."
"Um, thank you?"
"If it doesn't work out with Mav, you can come visit me—"
"Esmé—"
"I said if not when, you can't get mad at me."
Maverick rolled his eyes. "I think Stevie is higher on the list than you. Get fucked."
"Rude." Esmé slapped Maverick in the shoulder.
Maverick smacked her in return. "I think she's higher than me too, E."
Esmé laughed. "Get fucked yourself."
Margaret snatched Maverick's phone from his hand and took a couple steps away from Esmé and Maverick, who continued to smack each other in the background. Everleigh watched Maverick remove his glasses before her attention returned to Margaret. "Were you actually sleeping, Everleigh?" she asked. "We can call another time."
"I—no, it's okay."
"Are you sure?" Margaret asked. "Mav should've texted you before."
"I did, Ma," Maverick called from the background. Everleigh ventured a gaze over Margaret's shoulder, where Esmé had Maverick in a headlock. Maverick nearly rammed her into the bookshelf trying to get her off him.
"Correction: Mav should've waited until you replied," Margaret said.
"It's okay," Everleigh said, forcing herself to sit up and lean against the headboard. "It's nice to meet you."
"Where are you right now?" Margaret asked.
"Tokyo."
Margaret smiled. "A beautiful city."
"Ow, E!" Maverick yelled.
"It really is gorgeous," Everleigh said.
Margaret continued to ignore her kids, which was valid if they'd been wrestling the entire time Maverick had been home. Everleigh would've ignored them too if she'd been through two weeks of that. "What's your favourite city you've visited?"
"Edinburgh," Everleigh said. "New York is up there as well. But Edinburgh is number one."
"I've never been," Margaret said, "but New York is stunning."
"If you ever do go, I'd love to be a tour guide," Everleigh said. "I know lots of bookstores." There was one indie store that sold science fiction and fantasy novels that Everleigh loved visiting any time she went to Edinburgh. Taking Margaret to the bookstores would be fun.
"That would be lovely." Margaret smiled.
"Stop—ow—" Maverick winced as Esmé grabbed a handful of his hair. He turned and tackled Esmé to the ground. "No asking my mom on bookstore dates!"
"Please recommend any and all bookstores, Everleigh." Margaret laughed. "It's important."
"Transreal Fiction is the one in Edinburgh," Everleigh said.
"Can you both stop flirting with my—" Esmé smashed her hand into Maverick's face and cut him off. "Ow! You're such a shit—"
"You're a shit for waking your girlfriend up—"
Everleigh fought a smile. She liked the sound of that—how mushy. "Do you have a favourite city, Mags?"
"Anywhere these two aren't wrestling near my books!" Margaret looked pointedly at her kids—who were on the floor looking like six-year-olds. Esmé still appeared to be winning. "Honestly, you two are we talking to Everleigh or hosting the WWE?"
Esmé put her finger in her mouth and stuck it in Maverick's ear. Everleigh didn't even want to know where his hearing aid had gone. Maverick shoved her arm and rolled away from her, pressing his hand to his ear. "Did you just fuckin' wet willy me—"
Esmé laughed and scrambled to her feet, running to be near her mother. "Bitch."
"Such an ass, E."
By the time Maverick had made his way over to the phone, his other hearing aid was back in. He sat next to Margaret on the couch, Esmé leaning on the back; both of them a little more than dishevelled.
"Ignoring that my children don't know how to behave—"
"We're not kids, ma," Esmé said.
"You're acting like kids, E."
"Touché," Maverick said.
"The point of this call was to meet Everleigh because Mav wanted us to."
"I wanted to call because I didn't believe she was real," Esmé said.
"You've talked to her before," Maverick said.
Esmé waved her hand as she typed on her phone. "They don't even follow each other on Instagram."
"I follow Everleigh on Instagram," Maverick said.
Everleigh stifled a small laugh. "Sorry."
"Little Brit, will you follow me back before you follow Mav?" Esmé asked. "I just requested to follow you."
"Next time I steal your phone, I'm following myself," Maverick mumbled a little louder than he'd likely intended to.
"You're so lame," Esmé said.
"I've been trying to stay off Instagram," Everleigh said. "Mostly."
It was half true. Having Maverick and Stevie follow her meant every time she logged on, there were thousands more people trying to see into her life. After New York and her terrible comment to wherever those paparazzi were from, there were tens of thousands of people trying to follow her. Without sounding like a complete arse, Everleigh wasn't sure if she could even find Esmé's request to potentially accept it. She didn't even like sharing the photos of which airport she was in anymore. It didn't feel as fun. Following Maverick back would be confirmation of everything she'd denied in New York. Telling her friends and family was more important than telling the world, and Maverick had clearly beaten her to the punch. (Roman didn't count.) (Roman, while annoying, also wouldn't snitch on them.)
Esmé looked at her for a moment. The same searching glance Maverick gave her sometimes. When she spoke again, there was a lot more humanity than she'd been giving Maverick the entire call. "Okay. That's fair. You let me know, little Brit."
"Mav says you're a nurse," Margaret said, Everleigh could've kissed her on the cheek for that one. Perfect change of subject.
"I thought she was a flight attendant."
"Sorry, studying to be a nurse."
"Nurse practitioner," Everleigh said. "Yeah."
"Do you like being home more?"
Everleigh nodded. "Nice to feel grounded."
"Are you moving to London?" Esmé asked Maverick. "Can I use your apartment as a second home?"
"I didn't say I was—"
"Your apartment's so fucking nice, Mav."
"Thank you, but—"
"He doesn't have to move to London," Everleigh said. "We're good for now."
Maverick looked at the phone, smiling at Everleigh. A silent thank you. She understood it. They were still new and it wasn't even something they'd discussed in the slightest. It definitely wasn't a discussion to be had with anyone else present.
"Are you almost done in school?" Margaret asked.
"Hopefully by the fall." Everleigh smiled.
"She says hopefully as if she's not up for valedictorian," Maverick said.
"That's amazing, Everleigh," Margaret said. "You must be so proud of yourself."
"I'll be proud when I'm done, for sure."
Maverick rolled his eyes playfully, fighting a small smile. Everleigh kind of wanted to kiss him. That was still embarrassing. Only slightly less when she remembered Maverick would, in fact, kiss her back. "You work too hard."
Margaret looked at Maverick. "She's doing great."
"I know."
Esmé shoved the back of his head. "Dork."
"Esmé."
"Sorry, ma."
"Look, Everleigh, it was great to meet you, please come to Windsor anytime," Margaret said. "But we should let you go back to sleep, sweetie. I'm sorry we've kept you up so long."
"It's no problem, Mags. Really," Everleigh said. A twist in her stomach. Had she said something wrong?
"Please," Margaret said. "These two can't stop and you deserve some sleep. Promise?"
"Talk to you again sometime soon?" Everleigh tried.
"Of course," Margaret said, smiling. "Lovely to meet you."
"Good to meet you as well."
"I mean it," Margaret said, "come to Windsor anytime. You can stay here."
"Or Mav's apartment," Esmé said.
"Or here."
"Ma, I'm not sure where you think he stayed in London—"
"Everleigh, you have a bed here," Margaret said.
"He's also been engaged—"
"I have so many photo albums I want to show you of Mav growing up."
"Okay, bye, Everleigh!" Maverick took his phone from Margaret's hand.
Esmé sighed. "You're not even going to tell her you love—"
Call ended. Everleigh laughed softly. They were a good reason to wake up.
Although it was late, Everleigh had the smallest hint of adrenaline from talking to Maverick's family. A happy little dose of serotonin that would keep her up for a while. She stood up from the bed, grabbing the pen from the hotel nightstand before she walked to the small desk.
Earlier she'd picked up a postcard for Florence; one with a blooming cherry blossom that Everleigh thought was pretty. Enough jet lag had hit her that she hadn't had the chance to write it, but then felt like as good a time as ever. It really had been too long since she sent one, but there were ones from Thailand and Los Angeles already on their way to London, so Tokyo wouldn't be far behind. She didn't realize how much she missed writing them until she started again. Even the smallest wish you were here felt nearly foreign.
Hi Flo, Everleigh wrote, and Roman, I guess. (Navster, you're getting the coolest stuffed animal from here. Just you wait.) This is the first time I've been here for cherry blossom season and I wish you could be here too. It's the shit dreams are made of. Think if you ever take time off of being boring parents, you should come here. You'll fall in love. All the best & lots of love, Leigh. PS, Rome, stop texting Kingston about DJing your wedding. You should know it always comes back to me.
As Everleigh signed the address, her phone buzzed. A little more violently than a text message, that was for certain.
Everleigh smiled softly when she saw the name, propping her phone up against the hotel's copy of the Bible as she looked back down at her postcard. "Sup, Hulk Hogan?"
"Esmé started it, I had to end it." Maverick was laid on a bed in what Everleigh assumed was his childhood room.
"You got your ass handed to you."
"That's also true."
Everleigh laughed. "What's up?"
"Do you even realize how high you've just set my mother's expectations?" Maverick asked. Everleigh looked up at him, a stupid grin dressing his face. "I think she's more in love with you than she has been any other person I've dated."
"You must be lying."
"Seriously," Maverick said. "She fell in love with the first boy I brought over purely because she was happy that I was finally dating someone. Nobody since then has made her this happy, until you show up."
"Must be the zit cream." Everleigh motioned to her face with the back of the pen.
"I think you look cute."
"Don't let my mother hear you say that," Everleigh said. "She'll have you castrated for not telling me I'm so pale the cream blends in."
Maverick shook his head, a small smile dressing his face. "You know, I was wondering where that shirt went. I thought I'd somehow lost it between London and home."
Everleigh looked down. Ah, yes. The Beatles shirt Maverick had lent her to eat breakfast that she'd promptly borrowed without asking. She smiled at him. "It's comfortable."
"You can keep it if you'd like."
Everleigh teasingly wrinkled her nose. "I think we're past permission."
"I think so too." Maverick laughed.
"It's not even in the same continent as you."
"You've been granted custody," Maverick said. "Congratulations."
"Judge ruled in my favour?"
"All yours."
Everleigh could get used to the way Maverick looked at her; whether it was on video call or in person. Like the suns around his pupils lit up just for her. How his smile brightened up days that she didn't know were gloomy until the clouds went away.
"I wanted to apologize for waking you up."
Everleigh waved her hand. "Oh, please. It's fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Oh, yeah, please never call me again to introduce me to your mother and sister," Everleigh said, with a small laugh. "Seriously, it's fine. Thank you for... doing so."
"Mom doesn't agree to go on bookstore dates with just anyone."
"I would introduce anyone to Transreal. It's where I got my copies of the Witchers."
"Oh, so you're really taking my mom out for a date."
"It's true."
"Before our first? How rude."
"You stayed at my flat for over a week, I think we can consider that an extended first date."
"I do have plans for a good one," Maverick said. "It's just taking time."
"Really?" Everleigh perked up a little. "In London, or...?"
"I'd hope so," Maverick said. "That's been where I'm trying to book a table."
"Book a table?" Everleigh asked. "No dinner and a movie?"
"Better than dinner and a movie."
Everleigh smiled. "Nothing wrong with dinner and a movie."
"Not at all," Maverick said. "But this is dinner with a twist."
"Not going to murder me, are you?"
"Everleigh Meadowlark, I thought we were past this."
Everleigh laughed. "Hey, I live near Brick Lane. Can't be too careful."
"Brick Lane?"
"Where Jack the Ripper—"
"Okay, I am not Jack the Ripper."
"That's what Jack the Ripper would say."
"How would you know?" Maverick asked. "They never caught them."
Everleigh probably would've kissed him if he'd been there in person for even considering the theory that Jack the Ripper was a woman. "I... feel like that's a Jack the Ripper thing to say. Serial killer in general, really."
"Jack the Ripper also targeted sex workers," Maverick said. "Which you are not."
"Nothing wrong with being a sex worker."
"I didn't say there was. But it's a fact that you aren't one."
"It's proven that the average person walks past 36 serial killers in their lifetime."
"Everleigh Meadowlark, I'm trying to book a table for us at a restaurant, not murder you."
"Promise?"
"You needed me to promise that?" Maverick sighed. "Yes. I promise."
"Thank you so much."
Maverick stared at her. "Well, aren't you going to promise you're not going to murder me?"
Everleigh waved her hand. "Goes without saying."
"Everleigh—"
"No, I won't murder you."
"Well, good."
"Good."
"Fine."
"Actually, speaking of—" Everleigh said.
"Do not even joke that you're taking that promise back."
"That's not what I was going to say."
"Making sure."
"I'm not going to murder you, Kingston, Christ almighty."
Maverick fought a smile. "So you get how it's annoying?"
"I was aware I was being annoying." Everleigh crossed her arms. "Thank you very much."
Maverick laughed. "Carry on."
"I'm... awake now," Everleigh said. "And I recognize you're booking a table or... or whatever. But did you want to watch something?"
"Isn't it, like, one in Tokyo right now?"
"Something like that."
"And you want to watch a movie?"
"If you wanted." Everleigh shrugged. "No pressure. I'll watch one by myself if you have plans."
"No," Maverick said. "I mean, no, I don't have plans. I'd be down for a movie. I need, like, 20 to get to my apartment. If that's okay?"
"It'll take us 20 to pick a movie, anyway." Everleigh laughed.
"Dealer's choice. If you pick one, I'll run home."
"Do you really live 20 minutes from your mum's house?" Everleigh asked. "That's impressive."
"It's more like ten," Maverick said. He was already getting up and walking out of the room he'd been in. "But I promised mom we'd smoke before I left."
"Please don't drive high." Everleigh hated the little skipped beat that popped in her chest. A panic bubble in a sea of worry.
"Everleigh, I was going to walk home." A reassuring smile stared back at her.
"You live a ten minute walk from home?"
"I don't come here as often as I should," Maverick admitted. "Ten minute walk seemed the best idea when things started picking up with music."
"Adorable."
"You pick a movie, I smoke some spicy plants, meet back here in twenty?"
"Does it take that short a time to smoke a joint?"
"I think we're going to use her electronic one," Maverick said. "I'll only be a little in the clouds and might actually remember the movie."
"Sounds like a plan."
"Thank you for not making fun of me for calling it spicy plants."
"You're welcome."
"I'll call when I'm back at the apartment?"
"Sure." Everleigh smiled. "Go see your mum."
Maverick grinned. "Okay. Bye. Talk to you soon."
"Get lost, Kingston."
Maverick blew her a kiss and hung up.
*
"I've never seen Scream." Maverick sat on his couch with his arm behind his head, glasses on. Laptop in his lap and his phone against the screen. A hood pulled over his head, bubbling giggles erupting from him every so often.
Everleigh gaped at him. "How are we together?"
First he had the audacity to be fifteen minutes late to getting home. Everleigh had expected this, she'd already taken the time to go downstairs and get few snacks for the movie. In the time it took Maverick to call her back, she'd finished a bag of peanut M&Ms. It was wonderful. But to tell her—his... his girlfriend or whatever the fuck—that he'd never seen Scream when that should've been the first thing they ever did together when Everleigh finally realized she was interested in him romantically. Jesus Christ, she'd let her guard down.
"Hey," Maverick said.
"Suppose that makes that decision easy. Christ." Everleigh tapped her keypad a couple times. "We're watching Scream."
"What streaming service is it on?"
"Do you have access to all of them?"
"You're not going to share your password with me?" Maverick asked. "After everything?"
"You're telling me you flew to London for one night but don't want to pay for streaming—"
Maverick laughed. "Any service works."
"You're a shithead."
"Send me a link, please?"
"I hope it scares you." Everleigh made a group watch link and sent it to Maverick.
"It probably will."
"Good."
Maverick's avatar showed up after a moment. "What should I expect?"
"It's a slasher movie," Everleigh said. "Expect murder."
"I..." Maverick laughed. "I wanted to hear you say it. Serial killer shit."
Everleigh laughed softly. "Are you going to be okay watching this high?"
"I'm going to be great." Maverick grinned at her before his eyes darted back to his screen. "Let's go, Meadowlark."
Everleigh pressed play and settled into her hotel bed. Arms under her pillow, phone propped up sideways. She had seen Scream in the same regard as Beetlejuice and The Exorcist—that was, probably too many times and it kept getting better each time.
That being said, she spent most of her time looking at Maverick. Letting her mind drift a little; imagining that pillow was his chest and the blanket was his arm around her. The way they'd laid together in a leisurely silence after their first—second, third, fourth, fifth—kiss and promptly fallen asleep. Tangled. Close. Comfortable.
Everleigh turned her attention to the screen. Casey on the screen as she talked on the phone with Ghostface, who was about to be revealed, Everleigh already knew. Eyes darted to Maverick again as Ghostface appeared for the first time.
Maverick's phone clattered loudly. "Jesus fuckin' shit."
Everleigh clamped her hand over her mouth. Tried desperately not to laugh. Buried her face in her pillow. Fought a losing battle against a snort as Maverick grabbed his phone from the ground and propped it back up. He stole a glance at her.
"Yuck it up, Meadowlark."
Everleigh continued to supress her laugh. "Is your phone okay—"
Maverick cut her off with another jump. "Is this entire movie full of jumpscares?"
"It's a horror movie, lovely."
"Don't chastise me with your cute pet names." Maverick laughed.
"It might be."
"I'm—" A scream. Both from the film and from Maverick. Perfect pitch with Casey.
Everleigh laughed. A small snort escaped. "Are you okay?"
"This is terrifying, what the hell, Everleigh?"
"It'll be fine."
Everleigh meant it, but that didn't mean that Maverick didn't scream and jump the entire time she was awake for the movie. Drifting off to sleep watching the franchise wasn't unheard of. Eyes heavy as Sidney Prescott, Gale Weathers, and Dewey Riley hunted a killer. She was sure that Maverick continued getting jump scared as the movie continued, whether she was awake or not.
When she woke up again, drowsy, laptop still open on her bed, Everleigh forced herself to close it and put it back on the charger. She wasn't sure when Maverick had ended their video call, but her phone was off when she grabbed it again.
It lit up with a notification for a few texts from a couple hours before. Everleigh laughed as she read them. Wishing he was beside her so they could laugh together.
You know, it's serial killery to fall asleep watching a slasher movie.
Kidding. (Sort of.)
Movie was good. Scary. But good. Is it serial killery of me to say Skeet Ulrich is hot?
Hope you slept well. Had sweet dreams. All that stuff you'd probably call me disgusting for wishing your way. Have a good day, Meadowlark. Let me know when you want to watch the others. ❤️