Quicklog: Ella/Marta
[It takes twenty minutes. A phone call to the sitter, Beth doesn't want to go, but she goes into the pushchair easy, and when Ella arrives it's sneakers and a thrown on t-shirt and last night's make-up gumming her eyelids. It's a cab, Manhattan-yellow that glides on up to the bus-stop and maybe that's a lot of cash to throw at one little ride, but dead rattles Ella right to her bones. She spots Marta, climbs out and puts one hand, gentle on her back.] Sweetie? Come on.