Paris

We got to Paris, and I was going to take Sandra to the fanciest restaurant that I knew--Maxim's. We were going to celebrate. One small problem arose. At lunch, she ate something that caused one of her teeth to break. When we got to the hotel, I called a dentist and told him it was an emergency. It was Saturday night, and the dentist didn't want to help. He did tell me what to do as a temporary fix for Sandra's tooth. She was in no mood to go out to dinner, so no Maxim's. We continued on with our trip. After we left Paris, we flew to Barcelona. That was the last stop before going home. Everything was fine. The last day, Sandra said that she was going to call Jim and tell him not to meet her at the airport, as she was going to tell him about her new plans. She and I went to the post office, where there was a phone. I don't know what he said to her, but on the plane back to the States, she told me that she was marrying Jim after all. That was a very long 8 hours. When we got back home, Jim was there. I saw Sandra one more time about a month later to exchange some pictures. About two years later, she and Jim got married. I wasn't invited to the wedding, because a mutual friend told me that she was afraid that when the minister got to the part about anyone objecting, I would have stood up. Sandra knew me all too well, because I would have. It could have been the last scene in "The Graduate". I have quasi-communicated with her over the years through third parties. Last year, I sent her an email on her birthday. She wrote back. It had been 34 years.