"Ouch! Hey!" I glowered at my husband, who sat slumped in his chair, chuckling and nursing a foamy beer. ''You're supposed to step back when I swipe at you. That stone hit your foot.''
''Sorry, dear.'' He stood, steadying his weight on the table. ''I was too busy trying to avoid the cuddle puff you threw at me.''
''Cuddle puff?'' I yelled at him again, trying to fend off the cascade of hair he tossed at me. ''That's a cyclone, you know.''
''Cyclone? What kind of name is that?'' He suddenly lunged at me.
''If you kiss me right now, I'm gonna say yes,'' I said to an empty tabletop.
''Cuddle puff.'' He squinted and picked up a pencil. I hopped over the desk and scurried into the bathroom.
''What are you doing?'' I asked Tomas, who sprawled across the arm of the couch.
''Advertisement,'' he said, his voice controlled.
''You nearly gave me a heart attack!''
''Better that than a toddler's heart. We need to think of an agenda.''
I ripped the door open and marched back to the table. ''That's a drink talking. A beer. Specifically your fifth beer that you're so absorbed in.''
''Just listen. Two expositions before a complication, complication, climax, resolution.''
''See, the problem with beer and plots is that beer makes you fat, and plots don't point where you want them to. Besides, who says I want a plot?''
He looked up from his work. ''What?''
''We're at home, Tomas. Did you forget that? Where we've spent most of the past three years? Two expositions before a complication? We have a complication. You have five beers more, and I have a toddler.''
''Then let's start the complications. Why?'' He pulled the pencil from his mouth. ''Why home? Why two kids? Why did you get married?''
I scrutinized his face. ''I wouldn't dream of putting your nose in it, dear.''
''I knew it!'' He crossed his arms. ''You're leaving me."
''Gentleman, you are a doomed man. You'll see what I mean.''
''You'll leave me for… for… for a plot.''
''Plots can be lovable.'' I bounced Drang's little head on my lap.
''But you can't plot without complications. Complications make a story interesting. Here's a great one. You and I have the same roommate.''
I threw my hands up. ''This is the point where we run away and leave you all alone?''
''But dear! It's fascinating!
''Either you go and chase the plot, or I go and chase the cake.''
He shifted his attention away from his work. ''I'm sorry.''
''Why?'' I stood. ''There's no need to apologize. You have enough for a plot. It's all clear!''
''But that's not our relationship.''
''You need to keep your eyes on the prize.'' I stroked Drang's back. ''This plot of yours… you'll have it soon. Just a few more pages to work on."
''It's been six years. My fingers hurt. I have a toddler and a husband who's always too busy for me to start a plot,'' I sighed.
Tomas stood. ''Okay. Let's start the complications.''
''So that's how it is?'' I pointed at him sternly.
''I'm sorry! I was just kidding!''
''Oh, you won't be kidding when I start the complications.'' I stood. ''Mr. Ball-and-Chain, the starter of complications, is going to put his foot down. No more closeness without cake.''
''Cake?'' he asked.
''Go away.'' I went back to Drang, who played with the empty beer bottle. ''Cake.''
''But dinner is almost ready—''
''Oh, you're good!''
''Why?'' He pulled on his ear.
''Why?'' I stared, adamant. ''You turned me into the complicated half of the couple!''
''You're not going to have your cake and eat it too?''
''Either you have a plot that you're writing, or you have a wife who happens to be a writer.'' I stood and adjusted my skirt. ''No more half-and-half cake.''
''Maybe we can compromise?'' he suggested.
''What's that?'' I squinted at him. ''Opportunities are rare. They come, and they go. They can't be forced, and they can't be given.''
''We can collaborate. You focus on your writing, and I'll focus on my plot writing.''
''It'll be like old times?''
''Just like old times.'' He pulled me into his arms.
''Cake.''
''Exposed emotions, twisted plots, teary-eyed anxieties.'' He stroked my hair and kissed my neck. ''It's all in the script!''
I pushed him away. ''How about going to dinner?''
He looked about the table. ''I think I'm in the way here.''
src
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