It's a nice day.
It's sunny, warm, and yet there is a cooling breeze to make it near perfect. You decided both you and Ezra needed to get out of the house—Tom's busy with a work outing in downtown London for the day, so it's just the two of you.
The nearby park is alive with people and animals. Birds chitter and swoop into nearby trees. People of all ages are enjoying the way through workouts, playing, or simply hanging out. The same goes for you and Ezra. For quite a while he'd been playing on the play structure with the other kiddos, and you've kept a hawk-like eye on him...
..."What do you do if another kid offers you a treat?"
Ezra frowns, remembering vividly the last time he did that, "don't eat it."
"And why do we do that?" You ask.
"Because of peanut butter," Ezra says confidently...
...You and him are now in the safety of the shade, sitting on the blanket you brought from home. Much like Tom, Ezra can quickly and easily roast alive in the sun; therefore, you're slathering him in a second round of sunscreen. Of course, the boy protests to it, but you demand it be done. You'd rather some whining now over constant complaining about burnt skin.
"I'm hungry, can I have a snack?" Ezra asks after you finish rubbing in all the sun screen.
"Sure," you nod and pop open the small cooler you brought, "how about your sandwich and some veggie sticks?"
"Fruit snacks too?" Ezra asks.
You pause and give him a look. Much to your surprise he gives you a look in return, and it makes you laugh a little.
"Fine," you relent, "but I want to see most of your veggie sticks gone please."
"Okay, I will," Ezra agrees and plops onto the blanket beside you.
While he starts tearing into his food you get his water bottle out as well, handing it to him which he takes and sips at for a moment. You've barely got your hands on your own sandwich when you watch a figure from the corner of your eye approach.
Looking up and over you watch as a woman stops at the edge of the blanket, her bare feet with a pretty manicure pausing while still in the soft blades of grass. She's got on a pair of comfy looking jeans and a soft tank top on. Jewelry is loaded up on her fingers, wrists, and neck in a tasteful manor.
She takes her sunglasses off her face to expose her eyes, popping them on top of her head. Her long dark hair frames her face, lowing freely in the breeze. You note her large sketchbook one of her hands, and what looks to be a pencil case in the other.
"Hi," she starts with, and you immediately notice her accent, "I know this is kind of weird—"
"Only if you make it weird," you say softly, assuming she's a fan.
The woman chuckles, nodding along to your statement, "I guess you're right. I'll get to it then—I'm going to art school here in London and I need to finish my submission portfolio for an exhibition. I need two more sketches and I thought I might ask...?"
"You want to draw us?" You ask.
"Yes, of course I'll credit with your names, or initials if you prefer, and keep it super professional," the woman elaborates.
Beside you, Ezra has gone silent, although you see him eyeing the woman's sketch pad. Obviously, the woman picks up on the boy's curious gaze and she bends down and opens the book. She flips through various pages before finding the one she wants and flips it over to show the contents.
"Whoa," Ezra gasps, eyes wide as he looks at the drawing.
You're just as in awe. It's a charcoal portrait of an elderly man—and it's like she captured every pore and wrinkle. If you were far enough away you'd think it what a photograph.
"That's amazing," you compliment.
The woman flushes and shrugs, "this took a lot longer. More of a detail study—but thank you."
Ezra drops his sandwich and crawls over to the book, and you lurch forward and stop him before he can get his grubby child hands on the page.
"Hey, no. You don't touch someone else's things without asking," you reprimand.
The woman sits down, still on the grass, "he can flip through I don't mind."
You pause for a moment, looking around the park. It's still early in the day, and Ezra seems rather interested in the art. In the end, you invite the woman onto the blanket and she lets Ezra go through her sketchbook.
She holds out her hand, "I'm Honey...and before you ask yes that's my name."
You chuckle, "seems like you get that a lot."
You meet her in the middle and shake her hand, "I'm (Y/N) and this is Ezra."
Ezra looks up for a moment and waves. You're noticing how his shyness fades the older he gets, and you're really proud of him for overcoming it. It reminds you of your first few weeks with him and Tom, and Ezra really hated talking to you. He wanted Tom almost all the time—but you feel like you've proved yourself to the boy and you'll keep doing so.
He deserves the world and more, and you'll try and give it to him.
You and Honey chat about her exhibition portfolio while Ezra keeps flipping through the drawings. You learn a few things; she's originally from Nicaragua but is here for art school, that being said art is one of her true passions in life, and that being in London is probably the coolest thing she's done so far.
"What do you say Ez? Do you want Honey to draw you?" You ask.
When you spot the glop of mustard on his cheek with breadcrumbs surrounding it, you use your thumb to wipe it off and the boy shakes his head away from your touch. You teasingly pinch his side for it and he gasps and let out a small shriek of laughter.
"Uh-huh," Ezra says, "but I can see it when it's done."
Honey nods, "of course I'll show you. I think your Mom can even take a picture of it so you can keep it."
Surreal.
For the both of you it takes about an hour for Honey to get done what she wanted. Ezra goes first–and for a while he's still and answers fun questions as a distraction. Except he's a four-year-old child who is as energetic as his father, so eventually he needs to get up and play. Honey moves on to you while you watch Ezra carefully.
"You're not from here either, you have an American accent," Honey points out.
"Yeah, I moved here a about two years ago."
"But your son...?"
You chuckle, "technically he's not mine by blood. I met his father through a Nanny service since his job is odd hours. One day I just wasn't the Nanny anymore, which sounds stupid and a little weird but I fell in love with both of them."
Honey smiles, continuing to draw you, "it's sweet. It's just been my mamá and I for as long as I can remember. Ezra is lucky to have someone like you in his life."
"I hope I can be enough," you say, and you're not quite sure why you admit that.
"You're more than he had before," she says before the two of you fall into comfortable silence.
When the two portraits are done, you're amazed. All she used was various pencils, and according to her she'll go back to her flat and add more detail. Yet it looks so strikingly realistic. Ezra's freckles are there–hell even his tiny dimple that only pops up on his left cheek when he smiles too wide. For you...God, you feel like you're looking in a mirror. She got all of your details onto the paper, and most amazingly so your eyes.
You'd been looking at Ezra the whole time, and you're realizing how much love you show on your face when you do. Soft eyes, a careful smile, and you feel Honey's words echo in your head.
You're more than he had before.
"Thank you," you mutter, "seriously these are amazing–"
"Wow! Mum look! Look!" Ezra beams excitedly.
You chuckle and pat his shoulder, "I see sweetheart."
Honey is practically vibrating with pride, "thanks guys. I loved drawing you and you've really helped my portfolio."
Without hesitation, you pull out your phone and hold it out, "put your number in and text yourself. I know we'd love to come see the exhibition."
For a split-second Honey pauses, but she quickly grabs the phone and does exactly that. You can tell when her phone dings from her pocket. Before long Honey is saying her goodbyes and heads out of the park. It is a queue for you and Ezra to pack up as well, needing to get home to prepare for the Holland's family dinner.
Or...just family dinner? Is that what it is at this point?
"Mum," Ezra says as the two of you begin to walk home.
You look down at the boy, "yes Ez?"
"I love you a lot," he says nonchalantly.
Fuck. You grin wide enough to hurt, and you take his hand in yours, "I love you too sweet boy."
____
"You look breathtaking."
You pause and look forward at the mirror in front of you. Tom is behind you, leaning on the doorframe to your bedroom with his arms crossed over his chest. The position pulls his shirt sleeves taught around his biceps, making them look ridiculously muscular.
Turning around, you lean back on the dresser and look him up and down, "and you look rather handsome yourself."
Tom shakes his head and comes over, placing his hands on your hips, "nah. You've definitely got me beat."
You smile and lean into him, giving him a few quick kisses.
"I can't find my shoes!"
The two of you sigh heavily, breaking apart at the sound of Ezra's call. Tom squeezes your hip before walking backwards towards the door.
"I'll get him ready," Tom says.
"Okay, I'll be out in a minute," you agree and turn back around to the mirror.
You put the finishing touches on your outfit, feeling nice and put together for dinner. It's kind of a big deal since Tom's extended family is attending. Both of Dominic's parents will be there, as well as an aunt but you're not sure which side she's from. Still....the events of the past week have been enough to make you stress about the family gathering.
Both you and Tom have been adjusting all week to your new title, and Ezra hasn't called you by name since that day. Neither of you have the heart to tell him not to at his grandparents' house, but neither of you are entirely sure if it's the best place for a reveal.
With a deep inhale and exhale, you shut off the bedroom lights and make your way to the front of the house.
Ezra is adorable. He's dressed in child chinos, one of his new button ups with the sleeves rolled, and a pair of his lace up shoes. Your heart can't take the clothes and the new haircut which makes his curls bounce like no other. Smiling, you walk over and bend down in front of him only to cup his cheeks and press a kiss to his forehead.
He giggles adorably, one hand patting where you'd just kissed.
"I'm going to grab the desert, I'll be right back so we can head out," you say and march to the kitchen.
You and Tom spent the previous night making a tray full of lemon bars because apparently Great-Grandma Holland loves citrus. Grabbing the tray from the fridge you shut off the remaining house lights before meeting the boys at the foyer. Tom gets the door and you end up securing both the lemon bars and Ezra in the back seats.
"You excited to see Little Nan?" Tom asks, twisting in the driver's seat to look at you and Ezra.
Ezra nods quickly, "uh-huh. And Pop."
You buckle his last car seat buckle, "and they are so excited to see you."
This gets the boy to smile, his legs swinging to expel some of his pent-up energy. You figure he'll get some of it out before dinner in the backyard with Paddy at some point. Once you double check all of his straps you shut the door and sit in your own seat up front. Tom swiftly backs out of the driveway and heads down the road.
Your phone goes off a few minutes into the drive, and you pull it out only to see a new name pop into your notifications. When you open it you feel your stomach swoop and the memory from earlier.
"Who is it? If it's my Mum tell her we're almost there," Tom says.
"No, actually," you say, "I'll show you when we get there."
Tom raises an eyebrow but continues to drive. When he pulls up to his parent's house, which has various other cars crowding it's front neither of you move to get out. Opening your phone, you pull up two two photos sent to you and hand it over to Tom.
"When Ezra and I were at the part a woman–"
"Honey!" Ezra interjects
"–Honey, and yes that's her name, is a student artist and needed more portraits for her portfolio for this big exhibition. So, I let her draw Ezra and I," you explain.
Tom's jaw goes slack, his mouth slightly parted as he looks over the photos, "they're amazing. She even got–"
"–Ezra's dimple," you say with him.
"I wanna see! Gimmie!" Ezra says, struggling against his buckles.
Tom passes his son the phone and Ezra goes all awestruck when he sees the pictures.
"I told her to invite us to the exhibition if she makes it in," you say as you hold your hand out to take the phone back from Ezra.
Tom agrees with enthusiasm, and you're glad you allowed your portraits to be taken. With that you get out of the car; Tom is on Ezra duty while you take the lemon bar dish inside. The door is unlocked so the three of you waltz in casually, going from a calm outdoor evening to a loud warm interior.
New and familiar voices echo through the house which smells rich with dinner.
"Hello?" A voice calls from the kitchen area.
The three of you walk through the archway to the kitchen and dining area of the house. Harry and Sam are currently talking with an unfamiliar older man over a game of cards. Nicola and Dominic are in the kitchen with an unfamiliar older woman all working on some part of dinner. Paddy is sitting on the kitchen counter with a soda in his hand, clearly, he's observing more than anything.
"Tom! (Y/N)! Hi my darlings!" Nicola welcomes and wipes her hands on the tea towel that's been haphazardly thrown over her shoulder before hugging the two of you.
"Is that Ez?" The elderly woman says as she rounds the counter.
"Lil Nan!" Ezra cheers and rushes over to his great-grandmother.
You move past the touching scene and put the lemon bar dish into the nearby fridge to keep them set. Dominic approaches you and gives you a quick side hug, the kind where his hand pats your shoulder firmly and for whatever reason it's comforting.
"How are you?" You ask.
"I'm well, yourself?" Dominic asks in return.
You nod, "I'm good. Really good."
This makes Dominic smile, and you're so thankful you're in the receiving end of that look. You've seen his face when anything about Elizabeth comes up, and you never want to be given that. You round the island counter to Paddy and hold out your fist for him to bump.
"Bored yet?" You ask.
Paddy smirks and puts his cup of juice down, "kind of. Nan was talking about parliament stuff."
You cringe, "yeah, not the most fun. Once Ezra is done being passed around I'm sure he'd love to hang out with you."
The older boy nods and slides off his seat at the counter, vanishing upstairs, presumably to get something from his bedroom. You make your way back to the bulk of the family, watching as Ezra gets pulled onto his great-grandfather's lap.
"(Y/N)," Tom starts and stands beside you, wrapping an arm behind you with his palm falling against your hip, "these are my grandparents–Teresa and John. Guys this is (Y/N)."
"Lovely to meet you," Teresa smiles and extends a hand out to you which you shake.
John also shakes your hand with a, "got stuck dealing with my grandson, huh?"
Tom groans and his face turns a bit red, which of course queues Sam and Harry to poke fun at him.
"He's not that bad," you defend.
Dominic chuckles, "I don't know he can be such a movie star."
At that Tom sobers up and narrows his eyes, "not funny Dad."
"Don't step on his toes Dom," Nicola chastises as she returns to checking whatever is currently in the oven.
With the formalities out of the way the two of you settle at the table with the twins and John. Conversation ebbs easily as time passes; and it gets especially easy once you have alcohol in your hand. Tom opted for a beer, slowly nursing it as he joins the card game. Ezra runs outside with Paddy, who promises to keep an eye out for his nephew while they're out there unsupervised.
Of course, like the first time you met Tom's immediate family, his extended family asks you questions; your childhood life in America, reasons for coming to England, becoming a Nanny and so on. You answer each one with ease, but purposely avoid the trauma of your late teens.
The last thing you need is a rehash of the crash or Josephine.
Dinner is good; it's a chicken stir-fry of sorts that is loaded with noodles and vegetables. On the side is some heated up store bought flatbread to soak up the sauce. Tom gets Ezra a plate, but has to pick out all of the green bell peppers per Ezra's diligent instructions.
"So, tell us, what's next?" John asks looking at Tom.
Tom pauses with a fork full of food halfway into his mouth. Setting it down he raises an eyebrow and looks from his grandparents to you. Your eyes widen, because if they're already asking–
"You know," Teresa interjects, "with your movies."
The panic that had bubbled up inside of you fades and you hide your embarrassment through a sip of your drink. Tom clears his throat and nods, "yeah um I have a few movies coming up. Definitely some more Spider-Man ones..."
Tom continues on, saying what he can about the projects, and you listen halfway. You've already been aware of these for a couple of weeks. It's horrendous is what it is. He goes off to shoot a film called Chaos Walking. Then back onto two back-to-back Marvel shoots, and then after that it's the next Spider-Man film.
Then the press tours.
It is kind of freaking you out, because you have no idea how you're going to manage that. Of course, you want to support and help Tom follow his passions and his career. At the same time, you're going to miss him like crazy and so will Ezra. However, Ezra is exactly the reason that Tom deserves to go off and do what he loves.
You've heard stories of when Ezra was a newborn. You know how much Tom gave up, and all the projects he had to turn down...if you can help Tom keep acting then you'll do it. Even if you're freaking out a little.
"I'll get the lemon bars," Tom says once dinner is cleared off the table, all the dishes put by the sink to be dealt with later.
As soon as he gets up from his chair Ezra moves into it and cozies up to you.
"Mum can I go to the bathroom?" Ezra asks.
Sam chokes on his drink, sputtering into his napkin. Harry helps out his brother while he eyes you and Ezra. Paddy lets out a surprised gasp. Meanwhile the older Hollands all still, obviously reeling by the change in title.
You clear your throat and nod, reminding yourself to be confident, "yes. Do you need help or do you want to do it on your own?"
Ezra chews on his tongue for a moment, thinking it over, "help."
"Okay then," you nod and stand up, addressing the room, "I'll be right back."
As Ezra bolts down the hall in front of you, you glance back to Tom who is frozen at the fridge. He's gripping the lemon bar dish so hard his knuckles have gone white, and his eyes just scream please don't leave me with this but you just cower away to the bathroom.
Once in the safety of the bathroom you let out a breath and help Ezra. Thankfully Nicola and Dominic still have the step stool, and you use that to help Ezra use the adult toilet. You help him wash his hands properly afterwards as well, and you pretend the hand towel is a hungry monster when you go to goofily dry his hands.
"Is Sam okay?" Ezra asks as you put the towel back in it's holder.
You look to the boy, "yeah he just drank a little funny."
"Is it because I called you Mum?"
This boy is getting smarter by the day.
You sigh and shrug, "you've only called me that at home sweetheart, I think it just surprised everyone a bit."
"Do they not want me to?" Ezra asks, sounding a little upset about that.
Bending down to his height you shake your head, your hands finding his and squeezing softly, "of course they do. I want you to. So does Dad. I just...I think they just didn't expect it."
You want to say they're still kind of untrusting of you, no matter how different you are of Elizabeth. There will be that sort of hesitation for a long while, especially with Teresa and John whom you just met. It's unavoidable and you know it, and Ezra's phrasing made it clear how permanent you're becoming.
"I'm your Mom," you say confidently, and Ezra smiles, "for as long as you want me to be, okay? Nothing is going to change that."
"Forever?" Ezra asks.
"Forever," you agree, pulling the boy into a hug.
Ezra buries his face into your shoulder, and you cradle him close as you stand with him still in your arms. The two of you share the moment for a bit before you move him to rest on your side. Exiting the bathroom, the two of you make it back to the table where everyone is enjoying desert.
"Ooh I want one," Ezra exclaims.
Tom shows his plate which has two on it, "I saved one for you bug, although I don't know if you'll love it it's kinda sour."
"You loved lemon curd when you were a boy," Nicola points out.
"I remember having to hide the jar from him," Teresa teases.
With that you sit down, Ezra not moving from his spot on your lap, and you let him be as he eagerly eats a spoon full of the tart dessert. His face puckers and everyone laughs at the sight. Once he swallows and overcomes the sourness he goes in for another greedy bite.
"Like father like son," Harry hums.
"If that's true then good luck dealing with twins one day," you tease.
Both Harry and Sam cringe.
"We'll wait a little while longer until then," Sam says.
"Smart," Tom agrees, pausing for a moment before changing the subject, "so what are your thoughts on sign language?"
The Hollands think it over.
"You mean for Josie?" Harry asks curiously.
You perk up at his intrigue, and nod, "Tom brought it up a while ago. Me teaching you guys sign–obviously it would be ASL considering BSL has completely different signs and lexicons."
"Wait–really?" Dominic asks.
"Yes, for example American fingerspelling uses one hand," you explain and do a few as an example, "while BSL which I know little to nothing of requires two hands for one letter."
Nicola hums, "I wouldn't be opposed to it."
"It would require regular practice," you tell them, "and when I brought it up to Josie she said she wouldn't mind doing muted Skype calls for practices and tests."
Teresa and John look at you like you've grown two heads.
"Who is Josie?" Teresa asks.
"My younger sister, she's deaf so my family knows American Sign Language–Tom suggested I teach some," you explain.
John smiles, "that's quite kind of you."
Harry speaks up again, "I'd like to learn."
You look from him to Tom who is just as curious at his brother's eagerness as you are. After a moment you nod, "I'll teach you and Tom first–like a test run. I also think one on one will be easier."
The rest of the family agrees to eventually pick up the language, and Tom looks rather excited about the prospect. It makes your heart feel full to know the Hollands want to learn another language just to make your sister feel more comfortable.
You reach a hand over to Tom's and lace your fingers within his. He looks to you with a smile and you squeeze his hand.
"Love you," you mutter under the chatter of everyone else.
"Love you too," Tom says back, pulling your hand up and kissing the back of your palm.
___
Note: Honey is for my friend on Tumblr @ dreamiele who did the cover for this fic. As a poor college student I couldn't pay her so I just wrote her lol.