Page 19 of After the Red Carpet
“It was absolutely wonderful to meet you,” Barbara said, hugging Ella. “Let’s get together for lunch sometime. I know you’re surely busy with work, but when you have time, I’d love to finish our conversation. Oh, and I’ll add you to that email list I told you about so you can sign those petitions.”
“Great,” Ella replied, smiling as she shot a knowing glance at Finn.
“Sweetheart, I’m going to walk my folks out,” Finn said, pecking her cheek.
When they got outside, Finn said, “Thanks so much for coming.”
“Way to go, son! She’s sensational,” Daniel enthused. “Smart as a whip, kindhearted, and a real knockout to boot.”
Finn smiled. “What do you think, Mom?”
“She’s everything I ever hoped for you. She’s her own person with her own interests and passions, someone who can be a real partner for you.” She paused to consider her words, then said, “When you became so ridiculously successful at such a young age, I worried about the kind of woman you would end up with, if she would only see you as a movie star, and whether she would really love you for the remarkable man you are. Ella loves you, the real you, not the glossy image on the cover ofGQ. It’s clear as day that you’re mad about her too. I couldn’t get over the look on your face every time you glanced at her, like she’s the only star in your universe. I’ve never seen you so happy.”
“Being with her, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted,” Finn said.
“Your father and I are thrilled for you.” He opened her car door and she got in. “Now don’t forget to read thatinformation I sent you about pollution in our oceans.” With that, she shut her door and they drove away.
Finn returned inside and found Ella in the kitchen covering the leftover cake with plastic wrap. He came up behind her, slipped his arms around her waist, and whispered, “They loved you.”
“I was a little nervous at first, but they made me feel so comfortable. They’re great. I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re such an extraordinary man, it’s no wonder you have such lovely parents. Seeing who they are helps me understand how you could be so grounded, value driven, and focused on love and family despite the whole Hollywood thing.” She turned to face him and he kissed her. “It’s nice they live close to us. If we have children someday, they’ll be so lucky to have such wonderful grandparents nearby.”
Finn smiled widely. He wove his fingers into her hair and kissed her again. “I love you.”
A FEW DAYS LATER, THEY WERE CUDDLINGon the couch and reading the morning newspaper when Lorraine popped over. “I have the final item for your office, Ella. I just need to hang it. Then it’s time for the big reveal,” she announced.
“Ooh, how exciting,” Ella said.
“Sweetheart, I want to go up and take a look. Wait right here,” Finn instructed.
“Okay,” she replied.
He returned a few minutes later with a grin and said, “Come on, love.” When they arrived at the door, he told her, “Close your eyes.” She obliged. He took her hand and led her into the room. “Okay, open your eyes.”
She opened her eyes and gasped. “Oh my God,” she muttered, slowly twirling around to take it all in. “It’s . . . it’s the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen.”
“We went with a three-tone wood parquet floor, ivory walls, and sheer matching curtains,” Lorraine explained. “We’ve added this large window seat and built-in library over here, right when you walk in. Since you like to work with others, the center of the room is designed for collaboration with a plush white couch and comfortable chairs. I added pillows with a green ivy pattern and green throw blankets to give it a splash of color while staying true to the French country theme.” Ella smiled softly, her eyes becoming damp. Lorraine continued, “The tea table is an antique imported from Scotland. It’s a bit higher than your average coffee table, in case you want to sit there and write. Personally, the chandelier is my favorite piece in the room. It was handcrafted in the 1920s, and the strands feature over one thousand crystal balls. And you can see we’ve installed wooden beams on the ceiling, to mirror the style of your apartment in Paris.”
Ella turned to Finn, who smiled brightly and whispered, “I remembered how you described your apartment.”
“Over in the far corner, the pièce de résistance, is an antique writing desk, made in France, featuring two-tone wood and gold engravings on the legs,” Lorraine said. “It belonged to Colette. Finn said she was one of your favorite writers.”
“Oh my God,” Ella mumbled, running her fingers across the desk. She turned to Finn and asked, “How . . . how . . .”
He rubbed her hand. “That night in Sweden when we played that game where everyone described who they would invite to a dinner party. You mentioned her.”
“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s a lot to absorb,” Lorraine said. “We’ve redone the bathroom, and over in the closet, we’ve installed shelves and drawers for better organization. It’s already loaded upwith your favorite notebooks and other supplies. I think Finn would like to show you the rest, so I’ll see myself out.”
“Thank you for everything, Lorraine,” Finn said.
Ella turned and hugged her, whispering, “Thank you,” in a barely audible voice.
“It was my great pleasure,” Lorraine replied on her way out the door.
“Come here,” Finn said, taking Ella’s hand and directing her to the library. “The top shelf is poetry, all the Romantics. First editions. For when you want to get lost, or maybe found. Beneath that, philosophy books. Simone de Beauvoir and all your favorites.” She sniffled and he continued, “The bathroom has a big clawfoot bathtub, like the one at the inn from that great night. Oh, come over here.” Her eyes whirled as she took in all the details: a sparkling Eiffel Tower on a small table, an old map of Sweden, a stack of modern art books, a framed photo with the whole group from when they met on location, another photo of them kissing on the red carpet in Cannes, a pastel-colored globe sitting atop a gold base. He noticed her eyes land on the globe and explained, “To help us plan our adventures.” She smiled, trying to hold back her tears. “That’s the piece we were waiting for,” Finn noted, pointing to a framed Jean-Michel Basquiat poster signed by the late artist. “He was another person you mentioned as a dream dinner guest. I thought it might serve as inspiration and a focal point for the sitting area when you have people over.”
“Finn, I don’t know what to say,” she muttered, hot tears streaming down her face.
