Chapter 17

E lla was lying on the couch in her office, staring at the ceiling, when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," she said despondently.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Marni said, sauntering in with a brown paper bag in hand.

"Hey. I'm surprised to see you," Ella said, sitting up.

"Finn let me in. He and Betty are watching some fairy-tale movie. It looked brutal. The best part is that she's dressed up in a princess costume, complete with wand, and your husband is wearing a tiara that looks like it was made out of aluminum foil. Poor bastard."

Ella smiled half-heartedly. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, you've skipped philosophy club for the last three weeks, so I figured I'd come over and we'd have a private meeting. I brought snacks," Marni explained, placing a bottle of wine, water, a baguette, cheese, and salami on the tea table. "Here, I even brought paper plates and cups," she said, removing them from the bag. "Impressed?"

"Very," Ella replied. "You know I'm pregnant, right? I can't drink."

"The wine is for me."

"It's not even noon."

"It's rosé," Marni said with a shrug. "So, how are you feeling?" she asked, preparing them each a plate of food.

"Fine. Georgia kicks a lot," Ella said, touching her tummy.

"How's the book coming? Have you been writing?"

"Marni, what are you really doing here?"

Marni sighed. "Finn called me, asked me to pop by."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because he's worried about you, dummy. He said you've been really depressed for the last few weeks since you saw your deadbeat dad."

"It was not his place to call you."

"Babe, the guy loves you. Like gaga, over-the-moon kind of love, and you know me—I'm not even a believer in that horseshit." Ella smiled faintly and Marni continued, "He said you seem sad all the time. You don't laugh. You're not working. You take care of Betty, but . . ."

"What?" she asked defensively.

"Just that you don't seem joyful, even with her. It's so unlike you, Ella."

"I'm doing my best. Being criticized doesn't help."

"No one is criticizing you in the least. He only wants you to be happy."

"No one's happy all the time."

"You're telling me!" Marni said. "Well, maybe those real housewife zombie plastic things."

Ella smiled.

"Ah, a real smile. We're making progress!" Marni said.

Ella looked down. She took a moment and said, "I feel so lost."

"Talk to me."

"Five years ago, if my father had called, I would have told him to fuck off without a moment's hesitation. There's no way I would have given him the time of day. But now, I don't know, it was like my mind was instantly made up to give him a chance. Finn knew the score. He tried to warn me, but it just hurt my feelings."

"Who are you upset with, your father or Finn?"

"Neither. It's not about them. It's about me. Marni, I have no clue who I am anymore. Who is this stupid girl that gets a call from her deadbeat dad and goes running off, hoping for some kind of made-for-television movie reunion? As if he'd been writing me letters my whole life and I'd just never gotten them."

"Someone kind and generous, that's who," Marni replied. "Just because you're way too good for that son of a bitch doesn't mean you aren't exactly who you're supposed to be."

Ella sat quietly for a moment. "Do you remember when I first moved to LA and you told me not to let love change me?"

Marni nodded.

"It has. Since I met Finn and we decided to build a life together and have a family," she said, placing her hand on her belly, "I'm different."

"Ella, when I said that thing about changing, I only meant not to lose yourself. I didn't mean don't change at all. Fuck, everyone changes. As for romantic love and all that hooey, as far as I can see, Finn has made you more of who you are, not less. These past few years, you've been happier, more grounded, and freer than you ever were before. That's because of Finn and these rug rats you're popping out."

Ella smiled. "I love them so much. I do. It's just . . ."

"Tell me."

Ella took a breath. "When we love so deeply, it's like it changes our DNA or something. We start to see everyone differently. We move through the world differently." She stopped to shake her head. "It's hard to explain. I don't want to be someone who takes that call from her deadbeat dad, but at the same time, I don't know how not to be her. Not anymore."

"You know, this is the philosopher in you," Marni said. "Some of us have a shitty experience and we stick our head in a tub of ice cream and call it a day. But you've always asked the big questions, of both the world and of yourself. Maybe instead of moping and wallowing, you can use this as fuel. Hell, you're writing a treatise about love. That's some complex shit. Take a deep dive on paper. See where it takes you."

"I haven't written a word in weeks. Honestly, I'm not even sure if I'm going to finish the book at all. Writing about love doesn't seem like such a good idea anymore. I can't even bring myself to open my laptop."

"Give it time. The pieces of the book you've written so far are amazing. Best work of your career. Take a break if you need to, but don't abandon it."

Ella shrugged. "The book is supposed to be about what happens when we love. I was trying to figure out where we end and where the other person begins. When Finn and I first fell in love, I couldn't bring myself to take the leap. I was terrified about what might happen to me if I allowed myself to truly love him, so I pushed him away. When we got back together, I let go of that fear and opened my whole heart. It's like I stopped worrying about my borders and leaned into the closeness. Finn did too." She paused and then added, "We had a little scare when I was pregnant with Betty. You should have seen him, the fear in his eyes, his attachment to us both. He said my pregnancy fundamentally changed something inside of him. Marni, that's what love does. It changes us at an almost cellular level, and now . . ." She took a breath and said, "Now I don't know where my borders are."

"Ella, if you don't know who you are, if you feel lost, turn to the thing that has always been inside of you. You're a philosopher who is chasing the big questions. Go there. That's how you'll find yourself again."

"Thanks. Maybe. We'll see."

"Okay, I'll leave it alone for the time being," Marni said. "Come on, let's stuff ourselves silly on bread and cheese. You've got that basketball of a stomach right now to cover a multitude of sins. Let's put it to good use."