“We’re going to be late, could you help out a little?” Max asked, as he lifted their luggage—mostly Elise’s— into the car trunk. “Do you even need all of this?”

“What? Do you not want me to look presentable when I meet your parents? I need to make a good impression.”

“But you’ve already met them.” He rolled his eyes.

“Yes, but I’m hoping they forgot about me. I was a terrible mess that day.”

“It was after we had a twelve hour flight from Japan. I’m sure they understood perfectly why you were dead on your feet.” He closed the lid of the trunk, and opened the door on the passenger’s side for her. “In fact, they still speak in amazement over the fact that you were able to fall asleep standing up.”

“I’m mortified,” she said as she got in. Max got in the driver’s seat, and ignited the car. He saw a neighbor’s child in the rear view mirror, and waited for him to pass before pulling out of the driveway.

“Whatever the case, you’re sure to be seen in a better light than my ex-brother-in-law. He got my sister pregnant as she was finishing up her Ph.D, and she had to drop out. Their child was the only reason they got married, and she resented him for it for years.”

“Have they resolved it now?” Elise asked, interested in Max’ family controversies.

“In a manner of speaking. They got divorced. He died of an overdose shortly after,” he said flatly.

“How terrible! Hopefully he wasn’t around long enough to influence your niece or nephew.”

“It wouldn’t matter. Now my sister’s dating an alcoholic chain smoker.” He tapped the steering wheel as he waited to make a turn. “At least he’s rich. I think she’s hoping to marry him for his money.”

“Oh. Well, I hope it works out for her.”

“Indeed. She hasn’t got much time left; he’s dying.”

“Is it lung cancer?” Elise asked, feeling for the poor man.

“No, Alzheimer’s.”

“Huh.”

“If my sister succeeds in her plot, she and her children will be set for life.”

“What a considerate mother. I wouldn’t be able to be intimate in any way with an old man, not even a kiss. I hope you don’t expect that of me when we reach old age.”

“Don’t worry.” He gave her a gentle smile and briefly held her hand. “In my plan for our future, we’ll spend the first ten years of our retirement traveling the world. Each night, we’d be too tired for sexual relations. Then, we’ll move into a retirement home and spend our time watching reruns of our favorite shows and playing card games together. By then I doubt I’d find you physically attractive either.”

“So long as we’re on the same page. Speaking of which, we could join a book club in the retirement home, and become the most difficult and obnoxious members in the group.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Now, I’m going to do my nails. Try not to be too distracting.” She reached into her purse at her feet, and pulled out a peach colored lacquer. Uncapping it, she said, “the jostling of the car will already make this hard enough.”

“I promise to be careful at speed bumps.” Elise put the brush to her pinky nail, spreading out the polish across the surface with great expertise, despite being in a car. “Oh, before you start, will you put on the audio for my French accent practice?”

“I’ve already started,” she huffed. “But of course. Do you mind if I join?”

“Of course not.”

“Which tape would you like? I was thinking idioms.”

“Idioms sound good.”

Elise opened the glove compartment and flipped through their CDs. “I can’t seem to find it.”

“That’s all music, darling. Language acquisition is the red folder.”

“Oh that’s right.” She shuffled around the compartment a bit, until she found the red folder and pulled out the desired CD, which had appropriately been labeled French—Idioms in Elise’s curly handwriting. She pushed the CD into the slot, and began the track, before returning to her nails.

L' habit ne fait pas le moine.

Il s’a posé un lapin.

Il est tombé dans les pommes.

“Why are French idioms so strange?” Elise looked up from her nails and paused the track, before turning to Max.

“Aren’t all idioms strange? Think about ‘pearls before swine,’ for instance. Why would pigs ever see pearls? I mean, they’re found in the ocean, and pigs are land animals, for god’s sake.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“And besides, beauty is subjective afterall. I don’t think we can blame a pig for not appreciating pearls. In the first place, why do we? They’re basically shiny rocks. We’re like crows.”

“All right. I said you’re right.” She blew on the now-pink nails of her left hand. “You know the diamond industry is a scam?”

“Of course I know that.” Max side eyed her.

“I wonder why we’re all so susceptible to it though. We really are like crows, huh?” She gave him a gentle smile.

“I suppose, with diamonds, part of it is to show off. I wonder where social status falls into evolutionary psychology.”

“I would assume it’s the idea of attracting a mate,” Elise said as she started to paint her right hand.

“Yes, but once you’re buying the diamond ring, you already have a partner. Why is it too much to ask for them to just appreciate you for you by that point on?”

“Because most of us are glorified monkeys with little monkey brains.” Elise leaned over the center console and gave Max a peck on the cheek. “I love your monkey brain.”