Amy Margaret Everly

Class had gone by smoothly, Cullen tiptoeing between meditating students. There weren't many, eight people in total, but he'd always liked the smaller groups, anyway. It was usually his morning and early afternoon classes that drew the larger crowds. Evenings were slower, and he didn't typically hold a lot of classes then anyway. He preferred being home with the babies. But a guided meditation for individuals who worked long, arduous hours was definitely necessary. He knew he wanted to provide it to the people who likely needed it the most.

As everyone trickled out, Cullen nodded and smiled and said his goodbyes. When everyone was gone except for one, his smile subsided a bit and he sighed, moving to roll up his own yoga mat and then set about clearing the few things he'd brought in with him. The incense, the music, and anything anyone might have left behind.

Eventually, he turned to see Amy still there, and he smiled again. "I hope this meditation helped you ground yourself a little more. Do you have any questions or concerns?"

As she did so while Cullen saw off the rest of the group, she could not fail to notice the immediate fall of the smiling mask and the sigh that followed after. It caught her by surprise a little bit. She hadn’t sensed anything potentially amiss earlier. But then again, it might be because he’d suppressed it so that he could guide the session properly. 

As he busied himself so did she, putting away some scattered cushions and yoga blocks, perhaps stacking them away much more neatly than necessary. “Oh, yes, thank you Cullen, that really hit the spot.” She admitted honestly, moving off to find the remote of the wall AC to turn it off, figuring that would be appropriate since this seemed to be the last session of the day in this hall. “My concern is that it will last me for a whole two days before I am a nervous wreck again. Through no fault of your class, naturally. I’ve been in such terrible moods lately.” Now it was her turn to sigh a little.

It was Saturday morning, and Erik had gotten up, as he often did when he hadn't been out drinking the night before, or rehearsing for a new play with the actors at the theatre. But he had made sure to be in bed on time the previous night at 9pm, reading his book until 10 and then turning the lights off and comfortably sinking into the feather pillows that he had enjoyed so much since buying more than 15 years ago.

He had made coffee to drink and read the morning newspaper, now on the phone rather than in his hands like it had been before. And then he has spent longer than necessary deciding between scarves before settling on one in a rust-red, intertwined in white silk that made even a simple coat interesting. Soon enough, he was out and into his old Chevrolet, driving out of the gated territory of Small Pines and all the way to the other end of town to Riverbank, where Amy was. By the time he reached her house, there were 3 burned-out cigarettes in the ashtray.

Leaning back in his seat for a moment, he tapped ash out the window and reached for his phone to let her know he was outside with a simple "Dearest Amy, I have arrived outside your humble and beautiful home, please do feel free to come outside whenever you fancy". He looked out at the gloomy sky, letting himself enjoy the quiet little luxury of the thing, taking a niece to New York for porcelain and lunch, as if such outings were perfectly ordinary.

“Well I fancied I should come out quick from my humble home, hope I did not keep you waiting for too long.” She poked with a hint of a red-painted smirk, just finding the wording her uncle used to text funny, knowing full well that she did not keep him waiting long. She let herself into the passenger seat, turning around to deposit her bag onto the back one. She felt like green today, to match her eyes, and although it was warm enough for a short skirt she still found use for a coat in the perfect shade of forest green that complimented the rest of the outfit. Uncle Erik and her got along that way - they both had style. This was why any outing with him always felt like quite an experience. She would even argue that he’d influenced her own style a lot throughout the years, inspiring and classy as he always was. 

Buckling up her seatbelt, she was ready. “Are you sure you’re okay with driving there and back again? We can switch on our way back, at least up to my place.”

"You can mention something at a future meeting, about appropriate desserts? Men tend to overlook the little details like that for dinner. Maybe..." she mused, thinking aloud while still careful with her words. "Maybe he had distractions that didn't let him reach the bakery on time?"

Once inside, Milvi felt a nice warmth on her cheeks and hands, a thankful sigh escaping her lips. "This is so much better. I really do wish it were spring already. And then summer, cold can be done for the year already," she said, quietly, not wanting to intrude on her talk to any of the dinners. "Do you have something you like here? Last time my meal wasn't the best if I'm honest," she said, thinking of a simple shepherd's pie she had ordered then.

Just as he was ready to turn and go to his own house, she asked him to stay still... and so he did, his eyes heavy and his brain blank for the time that she rushed into the house until the moment she was coming out with a... he wouldn't have guessed gloves, but he was good at hiding his thoughts so his face was still blanks as he took what she presented. He took the fuzzy item in his hand, nodding and looking at it. "Knitting? That's an interesting hobby," he commented, thoughtful, spreading the two gloves apart and then frowning as he shimmied them on his hands. "They fit great, thank you," he said after a moment of looking at the handmade gift.

He hadn't received a gift since... well, he couldn't really remember the last time someone had given him something. Let alone make him something. His frown deepened as he kept his head down, feeling strange but also nice about it, a smile playing on his lips. "Thank you, Amy," he repeated, looking up and rubbing his hands together, not yet warmer in the cold, but it seemed like the gloves might help with that for another day. "I'll make sure to wear them a lot," he added, nodding.

“Really?” She asked, as if for reassurance, though she did not expect more than the thanks he'd already offered. Just hearing him say that he’ll wear them often was enough, even if it might not be true. Feeling a little awkward now, just a smidgeon, she cleared her throat softly and wrapped her hands around herself again. “I’m going to… scoot inside now. Getting a little chilly.” A severe understatement, she’d been quite cold all this while but she did not care. All things considered, this turned out to be a lovely interaction after all, much better than what she’d hoped for. It would make her entire day for sure. Until, unfortunately, the dinner invitation starts getting rescheduled over and over again…

Katherine had been biking around town all day, enjoying the rare sunshine but also gathering things in the basket of the bike for later that day. First, it had been a few fresh sweet bagels, chatting away with River. Then it had been some flowers, where she had run into Nin and been friendlier than she would ever admit she had been if she mentioned it to Dom. After that, she had veered back downtown to get a few snacks for the evening from Spoonful of Sugar. She'd gotten a coffee for Phoebe and headed to the Booknook, where she'd spent another hour before she realised that it was getting around 3 pm at that point. So onto the supermarket... where she had chatted with Jodie for an hour... or three - before leaving with two bottles of white wine...

By the time she arrived at Amy's, it was already getting dark, and she was late... as usual. She used her spare key without knocking, barely able to get through the door with everything she had bought. The bike was dropped by the pathway and, of course, away from Amy's flowers. "Sorry, sorrryyyy, I was... uh, I was accousted on the way here by a mob of very friendly faces. And some sunshine. I swear that I got a few things to compensate and I totally planned on coming before Liv arrived so I can help with setting up the food and the snacks, but time just runs so fast I simply can't catch up to it!" she breathed out, storming into the kitchen where both her sisters were already hanging

As she popped one more piece of cheese into her mouth, Liv almost jumped out of her seat when she heard the door closing, only for Kat's voice to come immediately after. "Jesus fucking Christ, you scared the living hell out of me," Liv exhaled in relief, going back to shove a couple more pieces of cheese into her mouth at the same time to cope with the scare. "What in the world did you bring with you?" She said, standing up just to go through whatever Kat brought– curiosity killed the cat and all that, but she couldn't help herself. @amyinnile

She had barely even flinched when Kat was finally in, licking hummus off a spoon she’d used to transfer it into serving bowls. Celery sticks and other dippable bites would be used to scoop it up because that’s the sweetest way to taste hummus in Amy’s opinion. She merely glanced over as Kat made her way into the kitchen, moving off to rinse a few dishes along with that spoon. “Set everything aside and pull out what you need.” She instructed the two regarding the things Kat had brought, although she probably did not need to - Liv seemed to already be on it.

It had been almost a month since his renovation finished, and almost as long since they'd been trying to figure out a fitting time to have this dinner. He couldn't say he was extremely excited about it, and it had nothing to do with Amy specifically. If anything, he was surprised that he liked her well enough to invite her in his personal space. But the fact was that the space was personal. He didn't remember a time when he had ever had anyone enter his home, be it here, around the states, while he had been hopping from place to place or even back in Turkey. It had always been a private place. And yet, here he was, having begun this with a suggestion.

He had prepared steak for dinner, some of his own catch from the freezer in his garage. Potatoes, a shepherd salad, tabbouleh and of course, Menemen, as one of the recipes from back home, he was actually good with. This was the first time the salad bowls he'd gotten with the help of the interior designer a year ago were being used. He even had a box of real Turkish Delight that he'd gotten from a shop in New York two weeks ago when he'd passed through it.

He felt like it was too much, but also - not enough. Amy had been practically bathing him and feeding him after for close to four months, and just a simple dinner didn't really seem fitting. But he also didn't want to go to a restaurant because he felt that it would send the wrong message. He wasn't blind; he knew that she was interested. But like all women before, he figured that once she was tired of his grumpiness and the way he would push people away, she would be over it. Even if a part of him really hoped she wouldn't.

That part of him was something he was trying always to smother down because he had accepted the fact that he had no right to have someone close to him and so he strived to keep it this way. He would never want to risk someone finding themselves in trouble because of him, and he knew that it would happen someday.

With such not-so-bright thoughts, he opened the door when Amy arrived, right on time, of course. He had learned that with her, things needed to be perfect. Or as perfect as possible. He kind of missed the perfect organisation of her bathroom now, even if he was happy that he could stay in the shower for as long as he wanted and not have to dress in there when he was done, walk around with or without a towel, whatever he fancied.

"Hey.. glad we are finally doing this," he said, and surprisingly, he meant it. The frown deepened for a second before he smoothed his face over. Ibrahim stepped aside to let her in the green hallway of the house, barefoot on the carpet. "You can keep your shoes on," he said motioning for the to follow him. Was a tour expected?

She had taken forever to decide what to wear that day. But the girls helped; as chaotic as they could be, Amy knew they just wanted for their sister to be happy and were trying to be supportive in their own shambolic ways. In the end, she hadn’t gone with anything they’ve suggested, not because it was inappropriate or because she did not like their choices but because she did not want to give off the impression that she was trying too hard. Not that there was anything wrong with trying hard to, essentially, seduce a man but she figured he was the type to feel pressured when seduction was not subtle. If he wasn’t, he would’ve expressed something by now, wouldn’t he?

So, she’d opted for something subdued and everyday in the end. It made her feel less pressured too and less likely to feel disappointed if there was no obvious reaction to it. Her hair and makeup though were perfect. Blonde curls loose and a subtle cat eye on the eyelids. Of course, she did not come in empty handed either, bringing in a pot of butternut squash risotto, carrying it in a dish it would also be served in because it was easy to just transfer it between houses that were one next to the other. 

When he opened the door, she was ready, having taken a second before she rang the bell to school her smile into a pleasant neighborly one, the lack of her usual red lipstick helping the homely, casual vibe. “Hey! Yes! It’s been a rollercoaster to set this up, wasn’t it?” She immediately regretted her careless comment though, hoping the frown she’d noticed on his face wasn’t because he disapproved of her noting this. She did not mean to say that he’d put her through a rollercoaster with this dinner date, although he kind of did. But it was partially her fault too, his work and her work had been clashing lately and when he was available, she was not… Anyway, moving on, she did not dwell on it and stepped her short boots into the hallway. “Where would you like me to put this down?” She motioned to the pot of risotto she carried.

For a moment there, Nate was genuinely surprised when Amy tossed her back onto the empty chair next to her. He hadn't considered she would take it personally, but perhaps her time was so valuable that he, in fact, had missed his chance of a quick catch-up. It took him a few seconds and a whole other very clear joke for Nate to break into a little smile, his shoulders relaxing more than they had been when he walked in. "Sorry, I forgot my Brendan Fraser outfit and the mask that goes with it– you're going to have to settle for this," he said, his hands gesturing around himself for a second before they dropped to switch Amy's purse to the other empty chair, and took the seat for himself.

It took him a moment to settle, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the backrest, then loosening his tie around his neck and undoing a couple buttons; Nate was officially off work, and he wanted it to show, although he never looked fully relaxed– this was probably the closest. "Are you really not going to eat it?" His eyes showed confusion– he couldn't understand how someone could have a biscuit on their plate and not eat it before even tasting a drink. He knew she wouldn't have offered if she didn't mean it, so without taking longer than a second. Nate reached for it and put it in his mouth in a single bite. "Sorry," he said, covering his mouth with one hand. "I skipped my last break– I'm hungry."

But she wasn't here to nag so she rolled her eyes playfully, putting her drink down. “Oh come on, like you could ever compare to Brendan Fraser from back then, even in his outfits.” Teenage crushes were teenage crushes, after all. 

It is with many regrets that he pulls himself out of his daydreamings because he is still in the middle of a conversation. He blinks those thoughts away to be returned to later and washes away the memory of them with another drink from his steadily declining mimosa.

So, a bite went into her mouth, a large but still careful one so as to not disrupt her lipstick. She was still chewing when Mars decided they would be talking about her proposal instead of his, her right cheek puffed up with the food inside. She froze like a deer in the headlights with this particular spotlight on her, eyes shifty before they finally settled back on her friend, green against blue. “Why? It failed to end in marriage. End of story.” She shrugged, back to chewing so she’d have an excuse not to talk about it further, her fork unsuccessfully chasing down a cherry tomato that had unhelpfully not been cut in half by whoever had prepared her salad.

They continued walking as he nodded at her words, agreeing that they were adults, but still wanting to make up for the fact that he had been easily there when he had needed her help, but now that it was his turn, things kept coming up. Be it plans he had had for a while, like the week at the lake by himself in the bungalows or the broken freezer he'd had to spend hours fixing and then replacing to make sure none of his game meat would go bad.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's say... next Wednesday? Once this fair is over and there's no possible emergencies on my night off?" he suggested, finally just as they stopped in front of the crepes stand. "What do you want to have?" he asked, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet and standing in front of her so she won't try to get any money past him.

If she were perfectly honest, when he suggested next Wednesday she did not get her hopes up like the last couple of times. It had become a fact that Abe’s work and overall schedule operated within the terms of emergencies and that simply meant that things would come up unexpectedly, even with the best effort on both parts. The only thing she was still struggling with was making sure to let herself know that it wasn’t because she was less of a priority. There was really no basis on which she could ask to be a priority compared to anything in Ibrahim’s life. After all, he still seemed to consider them as just neighbors and acquaintances. So, she couldn’t exactly demand anything more or keep getting all up in her head over him cancelling, rescheduling or just treating her with what she considered a distant attitude. Where was her right to do that? In time, perhaps she will manage to reconcile with it.

“Next Wednesday sounds good, as long as it’s after 5 pm.” She nodded, keeping a polite smile on her face which stretched a little wider when she saw him take out his wallet. Fine, she would allow this. He could do that much at least, as a gentleman. “Hmm… Ask them if they just have lemon rind and honey.” She really needed to cut back on deserts… She still loved the lemon and honey combo anyway, though.

He probably wouldn't stop by the diner either. He would simply go home. It's only when he would wake up the next morning with his stomach loudly yelling at him that he would remember he had nothing to eat the night before.

He didn't care so much if anyone heard their conversation. He would love to see any of them try to mention it to him later on.

He closed the door and sat behind his desk. He directed his attention towards his computer. He couldn't remember what he had been doing before his sister interrupted and felt annoyed. ''Wow. Thank you,'' he said sarcastically. He really loved being insulted randomly in his own office...

He finally gave up on work with a frustrated sigh. ''Felt bored?'' he asked, gesturing towards the homemade meal. He would never do anything like this for any of his siblings. No matter how much he cared about them.

He was pretty content when he realized the food was still warm. He opened it and ate a few bites. ''Thanks,'' he grumbled just like when he was a child and she made him. He was thankful, really. He was simply terrible at showing it. ''Look. I might be a dad, doesn't mean you have to check on me. I really need to finish this. Who knows when I'll be stuck changing diapers for the rest of my life,'' he said with a disgusted expression. He didn't know what he would do if he really was the father.

She left him be when he actually took up the food offered to him and dug in for a few bites, giving Amy a moment to walk away and sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “I am not checking on you because you might be a father. I’m checking on you because you don’t eat.” She rolled her eyes while he was too busy taking a bite and not looking. “The diaper situation is not a permanent thing, children grow up you know. Besides, as we already talked about it, you still have no confirmation yet. It could end up being someone else’s child.” She reminded, happy to see him wolf the food down instead of setting it aside to do all his important work before the diapers come in.

“Yeaaa, bump every vehicle on yer way in why don’cha. Mess up me new paint job.” Ryden grumbled unduly as Daphne parked her way into their three car garage, a space freed-up for her bike while anyone else would simply have to settle for street parking. She was actually nowhere close to hitting any of the two men’s vehicles parked inside, an expert driver as she was, but with their shared mobile property being at least double the average two vehicles per single family home, it was a tight fit. At least Ryden had kept the garage spick and span at all times, so there was no need to watch out for random clutter. 

“We’ve gathered up, the pizza’s on its way and we got beer. Yer the only missin’ link.” He informed her from his vantage point on the steps leading into the mud room and then further into the home, a long arm reaching to the side to hit the garage door switch, the metal closing with a rumble of hinges. He was severely underdressed for something that was supposed to be a ‘double date’, in one of his old tank tops full of what he considered aesthetically holey and torn. The inside of their home is comfortably toasty for the baby, though Ryden would vehemently argue against it if her comfort weren’t more important than anyone else’s, so despite the wintery weather outside, he wore a pair of gym shorts and was padding around barefoot, a sophisticated ‘date’ indeed. 

It was a unique place, their home, very snug yet modern-looking on the outside, but eclectic and mainly incoherent on the inside. A relatively new home, hand-built mostly by yours truly unless it was structurally too important to DIY mess around with, full of love and comfort and things. So many things. Not in a cluttered, hoarder sort of way but in an orderly yet enthusiastic and slightly nerdy (okay, a lot nerdy) sort of way. This home loved to accept things that were a bargain on a trinket or a collectible from all sorts of fandoms and popular franchises, mainly from the comic book and superhero universes though a few movie classics could be spotted here and there. Otherwise, there was also a high possibility of something goth or creepy lurking on the shelving, display cabinets and other random furniture surfaces about, a courtesy of Mars’ love for the unusual and macabre. 

All in all, most of the place seemed to have started off matching, the first bought furniture purchased in sets as advertised online or in stores, but as the two men settled in, they seem to have begun adopting stray pieces, throwing off the whole initial coherent setup with mismatched whimsical things they did not necessarily need. Yet still everything appeared somewhat organized, with its own rhyme and reason and, most importantly, toddler safe and cozy. 

Since she had no plans after this, she was wearing a rather simple outfit with cargo pants and a tank top, which she dressed down to now, considering the heat she felt as soon as she walked into the mud room. Plus, basing off of Ryden's own clothes, she might be hot soon. "Nice place..." she grinned as they headed through the mismatched home, feeling as if she'd stepped into the vomit of five different interior designers. She didn't judge; her own room looked like a clown show.

“i’ve recently started therapy.” dominic couldn’t bear to look at his sister as the confession slipped from his lips, fearing what he might find there. pity? concern? understanding? instead his gaze remained intently trained on the wooden cutting board before him. he hesitated one, two, three seconds before his hands came to clutch the edge of the counter, head tilting downwards as he willed himself to breathe. "it's been years. it shouldn't be affecting me still." both shame and grief engulfed him, entirely unpleasant— yet all too familiar companions of his.

She glanced at him where he stood next to her, above the cutting board where he would be chopping the onions for Amy, because bullying her siblings as the oldest one did not stop, it just changed forms. She waited in patient silence while he mustered the courage to continue. “No, don’t do that.” She said, putting the fork she held down too, perhaps connecting it a little too forcefully to the countertop. “Don’t just drop something like that on me then try to change the subject.” She had to consciously make an effort to remind herself to be gentle, despite the suddenness of everything. After all, it wasn’t often that Dom spoke up about things like these. She exhaled softly, looking away from him to nod her approval. “That’s good, Dom. That’s very good. Have you gone to Benjamin? The one I recommended?” Her tone was considerably calmer now, no longer the one she used to scold with.

“It is.” She admitted, with no small dose of pride and perhaps even self importance. It maybe wasn’t Amy’s dream job but it was likely to end up as her retirement work anyway. Just a shame that it happened sooner rather than later. She could’ve still been out there, elbows deep in sand, dirt and dust, continuing to take from the gift that was the Gift of the Nile, the Land of the Pharaohs that just could not stop giving. Unfortunately, life had other plans…

She whipped her head around to pin him down with a somewhat unintentionally stern look, her blonde curls bouncing around her face defensively. “I have been given plenty of credit for it.” Amy’s study in her home was proof enough, with all the diplomas, certificates, commendations and official awards for achievements that have been glass framed and put up on the moss green painted walls in the room. She’d completely glossed over the fact that none of that was for her museum work. It was a little jarring to realize that you’ve been demoted from an exciting place full of high praises to something slightly more… ordinary and much less adventurous. But that was not this man’s fault or something he was aware of so Amy mellowed down, smoothing the bristles she was very much known for and graciously thanked Ethan next. “Thank you, it is very pleasant to hear what you’ve just said. I will take it all as a compliment.” Alright, much better. It would not do to be disliked by someone Liv might end up really liking and truly dating. Not that Amy really knew if that was the overall intention in the end, between both of them. She was nosily assuming a lot here.