Julie And Julia Page #8

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We'll be at least two more years.

Meanwhile, Paul has been

called to Washington.

We have no idea why.

Well, they're going to promote you, finally.

They have to.

Well, I don't know why they have to call me

back to Washington to tell me that.

They could just send a telex.

It'd be a lot cheaper.

Well, they're going to reassign you, then.

They'll ask you whether

you prefer Paris or Paris.

It's a possibility.

It's not likely, but it is a possibility.

And if they are moving us back to Paris,

I can look for an apartment

when I'm there next week.

Good idea, yes?

I promise I'll call you the minute they tell me

we're being transferred back to Paris,

all right?

All right.

- I know, darling. I know.

- I think it could happen.

It could happen, I know.

Stay right there. That's perfect.

- Say cheese, ducky.

- Move your hand.

- Good. Great.

- Put your legs together, darling.

It's very simple.

We're just going to tell her she should have

a smaller share of the royalties

because it is clear she can't put in the 40

hours a week you and I are spending on it.

- Sixty is more like it. Eighty.

- Exactly.

- You and I are vaches enrages.

- That's exactly what we are. Mad cows.

But I can't bring myself

to say this to Louisette.

- You're going to have to do it.

- I will do it. We must be cold-blooded.

I shall love her much more

when this is settled.

It isn't that you're not helping

to some extent.

But I am helping.

It was my idea to add peas

to the coq au vin recipe.

We know, and that was a wonderful idea,

but the book has become a magnum opus.

But we are a team.

We are Les Trois Gourmandes. One for all.

Yes, it's absolutely true, Louisette.

Yes, it's true.

And you have been very valuable

to the project.

Thank you.

But...

But...

I am getting a divorce.

- What?

- Jean-Luc is leaving me.

I'm so sorry. Louisette.

Just forget that I even mentioned it.

But it isn't fair for Louisette to get

the same amount of money that we do.

Simca, this is not the time to discuss this.

She's getting a divorce.

But she doesn't do the work.

You don't do the work,

so your share should be 10%.

Ten percent?

You're not doing the work.

Twenty-five.

- Fifteen.

- Twenty.

Eighteen and not a penny more.

And where it says our names,

I think it should say,

"By Julia Child and Simone Beck,

with Louisette Bertholle."

- "With"?

- And in smaller type.

No, no, no, no, Simca.

Our names exactly the... Exactly...

And alphabetical. Alphabetical.

But it was not even her idea

to put the peas in the coq au vin.

- No.

- But it bothers me.

For me?

Dear Avis, we've been through

our own version of Kafka.

Paul went off to Washington,

and in my innocence

I thought it must be because

the United States government

had finally realized how valuable he was.

Far from it. He was being investigated.

He spent three days being grilled

in a windowless room

with a foot-high stack of papers

ominously sitting on the table.

They asked him about our friends,

our books,

our China years, our patriotism.

They even asked him

if he was a homosexual.

- Are you a homosexual, Mr. Child?

- No.

I am not a homosexual.

This is not a joke.

I'm well aware of that.

He came home exonerated

but thoroughly bruised.

Julia, it was a nightmare.

What am I going to do?

I feel like my entire life has been a waste.

- Paul.

- I have one more posting,

then I'll retire and then what?

We'll figure it out.

I just don't know what it was all for.

You know?

You at least have the book.

Well, it's your book, too.

It is.

Without you, it wouldn't be a book.

Not that Simca and I'll ever be done with it.

- Someday you'll be done with it.

- I'm beginning to wonder.

So to wrap things up,

at 6:
22 last night,

guess who wasn't coming to dinner?

That's right.

It began pouring down rain

and Judith Jones canceled.

I was utterly crushed.

And then on top of everything,

I had a horrible fight with my husband

and he left me.

The boeuf bourguignon was delicious,

not that I ate it.

As for the raspberry Bavarian cream,

I am taking it to the office.

Morning.

Julie, could you come in here?

I didn't tell him, I swear.

Julie?

- Feeling better?

- Much.

So you burned the stew?

But that's not why I didn't come to work.

I didn't come to work because I had...

Stomach flu.

Listen, it's a free country.

But this little thing of yours on the Internet,

I do not want to show up in it. Okay?

And if you don't feel like coming in to work,

let me know.

Somebody will want this job.

We're trying to do something here.

I'm sorry.

Anyone else would fire you.

A Republican would fire you.

I'm not a schmuck.

I'm in shock. I can't believe it.

You're like "The Ones." If you and Eric

can't make it work, who can?

All sorts of people can.

Just not me because I am a b*tch.

I am, Sarah. I'm a b*tch.

I know. I know you are.

By the way, Garth and I broke up.

Oh, God, I didn't even ask.

I am a one-way street, just like Eric says.

It's okay. I wasn't in love with him.

Do you really think I'm a b*tch?

- Well, yeah.

- I know.

But who isn't?

Julia.

I've been thinking about me and Julia.

She was a secretary

for a government agency and I am, too.

A really nice guy married her.

A really nice guy married me.

Both of us were lost

and both of us were saved

by food in some way or other.

So major overlaps.

But let's face it, I am not Julia Child.

Julia Child never lost her temper

just because something boiled over,

or collapsed in the oven,

or just plain fell through.

And she was never horrible to her husband,

I'm sure.

And she never behaved like,

"Who has time to be married?"

Which is how I behave sometimes,

I'm sorry to say.

I wish I were more like her.

She deserved her husband and I don't.

That's the truth.

Well, anyway, that's the truth for now.

Yogurt for dinner.

Hi, you've reached Eric Powell at

Archaeology magazine. Leave a message.

I hated sleeping without you last night.

Where are you?

I miss you.

- Hello?

- Honey, is something wrong?

No.

Why would you think that?

Are you and Eric

having some kind of problem?

Of course not.

- Is he there and you can't talk?

- He's not here.

I just read your blog, and it was strange

and uncharacteristically thoughtful.

- Where is he?

- Out.

He went out to get pizza.

Have you stopped cooking?

Just temporarily.

Just taking a little break from cooking.

Well, get back to it.

It's gonna be good for you to finish

something for once in your life.

- Julia didn't give up.

- Who says I'm giving up?

Well, I'm just saying don't.

Hey.

Are you back?

Please be back.

What's for dinner?

Well, Avis said she'd be here.

Even if we were late.

Well, if she's not here, we can take a taxi.

They probably have taxis in Boston.

She'll be here. Wearing a plaid jacket.

That's how I'm to recognize her.

What do you mean, "recognize her"?

Has she changed?

Well...

"Look for the middle-aged woman

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