Red Rain

“Mark, how are the boys doing?”

“Okay, I guess. They seemed excited about school. They kept chanting, ‘Rule the school! We’re gonna rule the school!’”

“Cute. They really are adorable.”

“Yes. Lea is totally over the moon over them. Roz thinks they’re too adorable. She says all twelve-year-olds are monsters. She’s waiting for them to pull off their angel masks and reveal their hideous monster selves.”

Autumn snickered. “Your sister is weird.”

“She’s a cynic. True, she’s had a tough life. But she was a cynic before she had a tough life. When we were kids, I was always shocked because she had something terrible to say about everyone. But, Jesus, she sure could make me laugh. Still can.”

He motioned to the narrow, chrome-armed chair beside his desk. “Sit down. I’m going to hand you things.” He patted a stack of folders on the desktop.

She lowered herself gracefully into the chair. Smoothed the pleats of her short skirt. Then she reached her hand out and gently flicked a crumb of Danish off the side of his mouth.

His startled look made her laugh.

Should I talk to her about dressing less provocatively?

Well. . actually, I like it.

He pushed the brown paper bag to the edge of the desk. Then he pulled the stack of folders in front of him, opened the top one, and started going through the varied requests-for autographs, for appearances, for charitable contributions. . and a few for apologies.

There were several lengthy letters, some of them from other child psychologists, refuting his findings. One particularly venomous letter from a woman in Los Angeles accused him of demeaning the whole profession and “holding all psychologists up to ridicule by espousing this crackpot philosophy designed only to arouse controversy and sell books.”

Mark shook his head. “She must have been speaking to my father.”

“Your father?”

“He wrote almost exactly the same letter. I told you. He found my book a total embarrassment.”

“Your father wrote to you? He didn’t call you?”

“We don’t speak.”

“You’re serious? He’s a shrink, right?”

“He’s not just a shrink. He’s a big deal in the New York Psychoanalytic Society. And he’s got his Park Avenue office with his celebrity patients and-”

“He wrote to you?”

Mark nodded. “He needed to tell me just how much I had embarrassed him. I think my whole career embarrasses him. You know. I didn’t match up to his expectations right from the start. I mean, he went to Harvard and I went to Wisconsin.”

Autumn chewed her bottom lip. “How do you want me to handle that letter?”

Mark flipped through it. Three pages single-spaced. “My psych advisor at Wisconsin gave me very good advice. She said, ‘Never defend yourself.’ She said you never can convince anyone, and if you try to defend yourself, you just sound weak. She said to always be positive, never defensive.”

Autumn scratched her knee with her long red nails. “So what should I say?”

“Say thank you for your thoughtful letter. I really appreciate your taking the time to write.”

That phony reply made them both laugh. Autumn was gazing at him with such total admiration, Mark had to look away.

Such a beautiful girl. He suddenly wondered about her social life. Did she have a boyfriend? He shared a lot with her about his private life. But he didn’t dare ask her personal questions. It might seem like prying. It might seem offensive. And she never offered much.

Today she seemed different to him. Not just the sexy clothes. The secret smiles and the long gazes, as if she had some kind of plan, some kind of surprise.

They went through the files. Then she set the stack on the floor beside her chair and stood up. She stepped close to him. “You’re a psychologist, right? Can you read my mind?”

He chuckled. “I’m not a mind reader, I’m a psychologist. But yes, I can read your mind. You wish you’d saved that cheese Danish for yourself. Right?”

“Wrong.” She took his hand. Tenderly. “You really can’t read my mind?” Her blue eyes caught the light. “You really don’t know what I’ve been thinking for the longest time?”

“Autumn. Really, I-”

And then she was in his lap, squeezing his hand, pressing her hot face against his.

“Autumn-no. Come on.”

She kissed his ear. Her breath tickled the side of his face.

“No. We can’t. I can’t. I mean-” He tried to stand up. But he couldn’t move.

She turned his head and pressed her mouth against his. He could taste the creamy, sweet flavor of the lip gloss. And then she was opening her mouth, and his tongue moved despite himself.

“No-”

She held the back of his head and kept his mouth pressed to hers. He couldn’t speak.

“No. This is wrong. Please-”

Kissing him. She took his hand and moved it between her legs. Kissing him so passionately. Beneath the short skirt her panties were wet. She pressed his hand into her.

“No, Autumn. Stop. We can’t.”

She uttered low gasps in his ear. “Oh, yes. Yes. Oh, yes.”

Like a porno video.

He felt his erection grow. “I don’t want this.”

But suddenly he did.

She stood up and pulled him to his feet. Then she reached under the skirt and lowered lacy black panties to her ankles. She flipped the short skirt up as she leaned over the desk.

That creamy white ass. So beautiful. She grabbed the far end of the desk with both hands. “Mark-hurry.”

Oh, God. Over the desk. From behind.

His khakis were down. And he was inside her.

This isn’t happening. How can it be?

Sprawled over the desk, she moaned, rhythmic soft cries. He buried his face in her soft hair. He lost himself in her.

He lost himself.

Lost.

And came inside her. It didn’t matter. All the doctors said he could never have more children.

He stayed on top of her for a long moment, breathing hard, gripping the shoulders of her T-shirt, the creamy ass still moving beneath him. Then, heart pounding, he pushed himself to his feet.

She climbed up slowly. Turned to him. Grabbed his shirt, brought her face close, and licked the side of his face. “Am I your best assistant?” A whisper that tingled his skin. “I want to be the best. Am I the best?”

A door slammed.

They both gasped. She squeezed his shoulders, eyes wide in alarm.

Mark heard the twins’ voices. Footsteps.

Autumn bent down, grabbed her underpants and tugged them on. She straightened her skirt. Brushed back her damp, tangled hair with both hands. “Oh, wow. Oh, wow.”

The footsteps louder in the hall.

He was scrambling to fasten his khakis. Still fumbling with the fly as the twins tumbled into his office, bumping each other, both talking at once.

Zipper stuck, Mark dropped into the desk chair. Crossed his arms over his lap. Forced a smile. “Hey, guys- how was your day?”