Jay Goldman

Sam was getting used to things flying at his head. There were many perks to having a crazy, passionate, Spanish girlfriend but this was not one of them. He’d learned that the bigger things were easier to duck or deflect, like the frying pan that had just whistled past his head as he walked in the apartment’s door.

“Carlita?”

Sounds of sobbing from the kitchen. She’s on the floor he guessed, judging by the arc of the pan’s Wright-like flight. How best to approach? Tactics were everything in airborne armament avoidance. He dropped his bag by the kitchen’s hallway door then feinted left through the living room as a mixing bowl screamed forth. A quick look through the second entrance revealed the beautifully angry Carlita, propped against a cupboard, red robe in disarray, lit cigarette, surrounded by an armada of would-be assailants. Did she unpack the cookware just for his benefit? She certainly didn’t use it to cook. He spun away from the door as she spotted him and let loose a volley of Tupperware.

“What’s wrong mi amore?”

Sometimes his smattering of Spanish distracted her.

“You. Do. Not. Love. Me!” she wailed, each beat punctuated by the crash of a plate on the other side of the wall.

“You. Do. Not. Want. Me. Here!”

It was going to be tough to host dinner parties at this rate. Sam smiled as he remembered packing away the good china. Having run out of plates, Carlita’s periphrastic rant continued sans-accompaniment.

“You would rather spend time at the cottage of John than with me!”

Ah. Clarity. This was about John’s voicemail. He’d picked it up from work, hoping Carlita hadn’t heard it first. The lack of weaponized cookware prompted him to pop around the corner.

“Oh mi amore!”

He crawled toward her across the debris field. Sudden changes in height were good diversions.

“John was calling to make plans for me to pick up the keys so you and I could have a weekend away to celebrate Mr. Biggles’ birthday!”

“You remembered!” she squeeed, surging forward into full on embrace. He cradled her and stood. Mr. Biggles would be hiding under the bed, no doubt. Smart dog.

“Let’s go find him to share the good news.” Sam ducked through the doorway, headed for the bedroom, ulterior motives very much in mind.

periphrastic : (per-uh-FRAS-tik) adjective: 1. Using a roundabout form of expression; wordy. 2. Formed by the use of two or more words instead of inflection. Examples: “daughter of John” (compared with “John’s daughter), “It did happen” (compared with “It happened”), “more stupid” (compared with “stupider”), “Do you have” (compared with “Have you”).

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