Page 34 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?

She found a table in the corner, ordered herself a club soda with lime, and reflected on the upside-down week she had going.

The bizarre dinner with her parents. The night she’d shared with Ella that felt like it had catapulted them into somewhere new and unexpected.

The doctor’s appointment that loomed the next day with her mother.

Then there was the still-dangling issue of her past with Rachel and Rachel’s friendship with Ella.

In the midst of a whole lot going on, she chose to focus on the here, now, and the woman who just walked through the door and lit up the entire room.

Ella’s eyes roamed every inch of the place, taking in the detail with a childlike wonder that was so very her. She had a way of relishing the happy details. It made Max want to do the same.

“I love this place,” she said, depositing her bag on the table with a thunk. “Oh. Sorry about that.” She removed it. “Probably not my best Parisian manners.”

“The French are forgiving,” Max said with no knowledge of whether that was true or not.

“You scored us a table by the window, even. This day gets better and better.” She sank into the chair across from Max just as the sunlight lit up her blue eyes.

“I find if you ask for what you want, people are inclined to try and give it to you.”

Ella nodded and rested her chin on her hand. “That’s a tip I should pocket and use. I tend to make myself smaller when I’m intimidated.” She sighed. “I don’t think I advocate for myself as much as I should.”

“Well, you’ve certainly put me in my place a few times. It was a master class.”

“That’s different. You’re an entirely different example.”

Max quirked her head. “How so?” This was getting good.

Ella leaned in as if about to share something that wasn’t for public consumption.

“You bring out a different side of me. You,” she searched for words on the tablecloth before shooting her gaze back to Max, “slam me with big, overreaching emotions—hyperbolic ones. When I’m mad at you, I’m furious.

When I’m calm, I’m the most serene person on earth.

When I’m happy to see you, I could lasso the stars. It’s all very trippy.”

“And when you’re turned on?” Max asked around her glass of ice water.

Ella’s blue eyes went dark. “I think you can see the pattern.”

“And I identify more than you realize.”

Ella sat back in her chair, mystified. It was adorable. “Really? Because at all times you seem like a cool cucumber, unaffected and completely in control of not only your emotions, but the room in general.”

She nodded along, having heard it all before.

“I think that all goes back to how I was raised, essentially by a mother who demanded excellence. And how do you achieve it? Learning to be unflappable in the face of pressure, competition, or any challenge. It was drilled into my head that if I exert energy entertaining emotion, well, then I’d already lost half the battle. ”

“Emotions make you weak. Was it kind of like that?”

“Another good way to put it.”

“Add in a father who was so good-natured and optimistic that if a tornado were ripping through our house, he’d probably hold his spot in front of the TV and wave it off with a no-big-deal grin.

” She fiddled with her spoon. “Two very different approaches to not actually emoting. Needless to say, it’s taken some work to undo some of that. ”

“So, you’re telling me that you’re a bottler.” She smiled at the server who placed a basket of warm bread between them. “Bless you and your extended family,” Ella told him and took a deep inhale.

Max laughed because there Ella went again, appreciating all that was placed in front of her.

“I don’t know if bottler is the right characterization.

I do feel all of the things very acutely.

I toss and turn at night when I’m stressed.

I cry, not a lot, but sometimes, when I’m alone.

I think what you’re picking up on is my determination not to show those feelings in a public venue. ”

“What about to someone you’re very close to?” Ella asked and took a sip of water.

Max mimicked her with her own glass. “I think it would depend on the person.”

“Fair enough.”

Their server, Brielle, returned to take their order. The quiche Lorraine for Ella. The endive salad with pears for Max. “You don’t eat Oatmeal Hoopties, do you?” She said it as if she knew the answer, and it was a shame.

Max squinted, not following the thread. “I don’t think I have.”

“I figured as much when you ordered the very adult salad at the restaurant that specializes in butter and more butter.”

“Did I just break your heart?”

Ella took a moment to chew her bread, and Max took a moment to watch. “Only on your behalf. I’m starting to feel like I might have been called into your life for a reason.”

“You’re going to teach me about hoopty things?”

She nodded and hooked a strand of that blond hair behind her ear like a bread-eating pro. “I like the way you put that. Yes. Hoopties and all things silly should maybe go on our to-do list.”

“I’m all for lists. They are highly instrumental in making my workday happen.”

“See? I had a feeling you kept those. I do, too, but mainly just in my chaotic little head, and sometimes I misplace them there.” She shrugged. “I’d just like to see you enjoy your life more and feel okay about doing so.”

“I think you just told me I’m boring.”

“Listen.” Ella let her head drop back. “You are the least boring person I’ve met, and you need to understand how seriously I mean that.” She took a beat. “But you are stoic. Not that it isn’t hot.”

“I can plead guilty to this charge.” Their lunches arrived, and Max sat back, allowing her perfectly plated salad to be slid in front of her. “I like that you’re not. How about you help me emote and I help you advocate for yourself more often?”

Ella pointed at her with her fork. “I like that. I applaud the idea.”

“Then we’ve struck a deal, and I’ll have Sonya draw up the contract.”

“Hanging out with a lawyer is going to take some getting used to.”

“I’ll teach you what you need to know.”

They shared a moment of eye contact before Ella’s cheeks dusted pink and she shook her head. “Oh, Max Wyler. Where in the world did you come from?”

She slid a bite of salad into her mouth as if to say I’ll never tell .

They took a moment with their lunches as more of the tables around them filled up.

Popular place. In the midst, Max ordered herself to truly relax and enjoy the restaurant, the ambiance, and the company the way Ella would.

It was … freeing in many ways. And while she didn’t want to allow her thoughts to drift to the stresses at work, there was one topic that begged their immediate attention.

“Have you talked with Rachel yet?”

Ella finished chewing, set down her fork, and met Max’s gaze. “I need to. I think the sooner the better.”

“I completely agree,” Max said. “And it’s not like?—"

“We’re in some kind of committed relationship.”

“No.”

“Or eloping or declaring our love.”

“We’re hanging out.”

Ella nodded. “And she should know that.”

They were on the same page, and Max was relieved to hear it. “Can I offer you some advice?” She moved a pear slice around on her plate.

“Yes. In fact, I welcome it, Counselor.”

“When you loop her in, include your own story in the mix.”

“Oh, this is my first lesson in advocacy, isn’t it?”

“In fact, it is. Let Rachel hear all the things you’ve gone through.

The reason you made certain decisions, or acted when maybe you hadn’t planned on acting.

Include how it all made you feel. She needs all of the information so she doesn’t jump to conclusions about your motives but can see you as someone in a very human predicament. ”

Ella sighed, her gaze falling to the table. “This isn’t going to be easy. I’ll tell you that.”

“No.” Max frowned, wishing she could take Ella’s place. “I’m afraid it’s not.”