Page 17 of After the Red Carpet
“Trying to decide what to wear,” she replied, nervously pulling out hangers and shoving them back.
“I’m just wearing what I have on: jeans and a polo. Throw on anything.”
“So you think I should wear jeans and not one of my usual sundresses?”
“Dress how you always do. You always look great. Just be yourself and relax.”
“What about this one?” she asked, pulling out a long, flowing buttercup-yellow sundress.
“That would be perfect,” he replied, pecking her cheek. “Baby, my parents are totally low-key. They’re just excited to meet you.”
“Are you sure they don’t hate me?” she asked, distress marring her heart-shaped face.
He laughed. “Not in the slightest. They’re eager to get to know you.”
“You haven’t told me much about them. I’m so nervous, I can’t even remember their names.”
“Daniel and Barbara. They’re great, supportive, down-to-earth. In fact, you once paid me the nicest compliment.” She raised her eyebrows and he said, “You said I was the kind of actor who considers the whole story he’s a part of telling. That comes from my folks. When my mother started taking me to auditions, she’d tell me to ‘be truthful’ in my performances and to ‘remember that people need their stories told.’ They also never let me get caught up in the Hollywood nonsense. Early on, I started to become a bit enamored by fame, and they straightened me out right away. They told me to get over myself and that it’s a privilege to be an artist, a privilege that requires humility. I wouldn’t be who I am without them.”
Ella smiled. “What do they do?”
“You’ll have a lot in common with them. My mother worked part-time from home as a copy editor for academic authors. My dad was a civil rights law professor. But I retired them years ago.”
“You did?”
“I bought them a house, nothing too showy, but something they’re comfortable in. For years, I sent them on adventures around the world—Egypt, India, South Africa, Alaska. They’ve slowed down in that respect, but they still let me send them on a tropical cruise every year.”
“That’s lovely.”
“Sweetheart, I’d love to do the same thing for your mother, if you’ll let me. I’ll take care of her. You won’t have to worry about anything. I have the means to—”
“Finn, please, my mother is fine. You don’t need to do anything for her.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’m just saying I’ll take care of you, and that includes anyone you love. Family is the most important thing to me.”
“Tell me more about what Daniel and Barbara do these days,” she said, trying to change the subject.
“They spend most of their time staying busy with activism and charity stuff. They’re lefties, super progressive, so they’re all over any cause related to fighting racism, supporting women’s rights, feeding the hungry, or lobbying for environmental protections. They’ve campaigned for just about every liberal politician in the state of California, even down to the city council. Be warned: my mother is always signing me up for these protest email lists. You can’t imagine the spam I get.”
Ella laughed.
“Aside from that, they’re avid readers and they love watching documentaries. It’s hard to believe the wealth of information they know about different cultures, history, sociology, and the like. Think of them as hippie intellectuals.”
“They sound great,” she said.
“They are. And knowing them, they’ll be right on time, so I should probably let you finish getting ready.”
“Are you sure this dress is okay?” she asked again, her forehead creased with worry.
“It’s perfect.”
“MOM, DAD, IT’S GREAT TO SEE YOU,”Finn said, hugging them each tightly. “Come on in.” He took Ella’s hand and proudly announced, “This is Ella. Ella, these are my parents, Daniel and Barbara.”
“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Ella said.
“The feeling is mutual,” Barbara replied, wrapping her in a big hug. “We’ve heard so many lovely things about you, and we’ve been dying to get to know you.”
“Me too,” Ella said.
