Paris Can Wait Page #5

We were right for

each other, but...

Unfortunately,

there were circumstances.

Mmm-hmm.

Not all things are meant to be.

Yes, well,

love isn't always fair.

Why is that?

It will never make sense to me.

Jacques, I can't eat much more.

This cheese is made from

unpasteurized milk.

It's alive and very healthy.

Your cheese in America is pasteurized.

It's dead.

It goes into your stomach

like a ball of fat.

Is that why you

French people can eat

all the butter

and cheese you want

and never gain weight?

Yes, and we drink more red wine.

Of course, we are more romantic.

Oh. Is that so?

So, brulee, you know

my vice, it's smoking.

Now you must confess yours.

Oh, my gosh.

That is the last time

I ever tell you the truth.

Just taste.

Mmm.

Just eat what you feel like.

You know, unlike smoking,

there are studies that say that

chocolate is good for you.

You Americans always have to

have a reason for everything.

We eat what we enjoy.

Mmm. Mmm.

Michael called me just before

we came down for dinner.

He's worried about us

here together.

Are you?

Should I be?

Well, I don't know.

In a long marriage, after

your child leaves home...

Are you happy?

Oh...

We have a good marriage...

No, that's not what I asked you.

Are you happy?

Well, sure.

Sometimes.

From Michael's call, I know

that he somehow mistrusts us.

Perhaps he mistrusts himself.

Is he faithful?

Oh, well, you probably

know better than I.

He had quite a reputation and...

Well, we went through

some hard times.

And have you made

peace with your life?

What kind of question is that?

I think it's a good question.

Have you made

peace with yourself

and your marriage the way it is?

Ah...

Oh.

Don't worry, it's okay.

I'm such a klutz.

We French, we have a different

attitude about marriage

than you Americans.

Oh, and what is that?

We are practical.

We're loyal to family

and to marriage...

But we are human, and we follow

our natural human passions.

Well, we must seem

boringly puritanical to you.

And guilty. Guilt is

bad for your digestion.

Well, how would you say

Michael's digestion is?

Well...

He's an attractive man,

and women do outrageous

things to get into movies.

Once, a wannabe starlet came

to our table at the beach.

Michael had taken off his shoes.

She picked one up, poured

champagne in it and toasted him.

Michael felt her desperation.

So, as he sent her away,

he gave her his rose gold Rolex.

He didn't have to do that.

I gave him that watch.

He told me he lost it.

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to upset you.

Bonjour, madame.

Bonjour.

Hey.

Hi.

I didn't go.

My ears were killing me, so Jacques

offered to drive me to Paris.

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