My Autumn and My Winter

Autumn blew out a whistle and settled back in her seat.

"Well, I'll try, but let me tell you, you may not like my interpretation of what 'normal' is."

"Try not to get too creative with it."

Steve stopped the car in front of a well appointed three story house with white siding and a neatly manicured hedgerow. The lights were on in nearly ever room of the structure, brightening it up with a cheery glow. Autumn whistled as they approached on foot, nodding her head in appreciation.

"Nice digs! What did you say Sven did, again?"

"He's a professor at NY State. Astrophysics."

"They get paid that good?"

"Not really. His wife is a psychiatrist, though, and she, well, let's just say that on card nights Sven buys all the beer and snacks."

Steve sighed.

"I wish we could afford a house like this."

"Shh," Autumn took his arm in hers and put her head on his shoulder "don't worry about money. It should be the furthest thing from your mind right now."

The front door was made of a blonde sandalwood, polished to a shine. Steve was just about to press the doorbell when it swung open, revealing Sven's towering form. The blade-thin blonde was dressed in a sports coat and tie, his hair nicely combed. He clasped Steve's hand warmly and invited them both in.

The interior was spacious and inviting, well lit by elegant fixtures in their own wall sconces. The hardwood floors were gleaming with polish, and the whole house was filled with the aroma of something wonderful roasting in the kitchen.

"Are we the first ones here, Sven?"

"Oh no no no. Rex is here, Ja, and he bring wife and baby."

"Where are your kids?"

"Upstairs. My little sister is babysitting them."

"Little Vanya? She's how old now, sixteen?"

"Twenty one."

"Wow, we're getting old."

Sven led them to his study, a room that was teeming with books on shelves that even their lanky host must have had a hard time reaching the top of. Two nice sofas formed an L in the center of the room, flanked by three stuffed chairs of similar design.

"Hey, hey, you guys made it!"

Steve's face broke into a grin as Rex rose off of the sofa. His wife smiled up at them, but did not rise, as she was rocking the bundle in her arms.

"Nice to see you, man." Steve hugged the smaller man, bending over at his waist.

"Yeah, you're on the road like all the time now. Don't got time for the little people now that you're a big time celebrity."

"We're hardly big time. Wrestling don't pay as much as you might think, believe me."

"Eh, you need to open your own school or something. That's what all the pros do sooner or later."

Autumn approached Rex's wife and child. Steve noted that she was soon cradling the child in her own arms, looking at it with large, soft eyes.

"I don't have time to run a business."

"Oh, bullshit, you can do all the paperwork from your phone at this point. Shit, my cousin went to Shawn Michael's school for two years and saw that mother fucker like once. It'd be easy money, man."

Autumn approached Steve, the baby in her arms thrust forth like an offering.

"Do you really want one of these?" she asked.

"What?" Steve asked, lowering his chin and looking down his nose.

"Do you really want one? A baby."

"Uh, yeah. It's kind of what people do when they get married."

"Most people. Normal people. We're not normal," Autumn said, umber eyes harsh.

"We don't have to be normal to be good parents," Steve said, arching an eyebrow.

"I don't have it in me to be a good parent, and neither do you."

"Uh, think I'll go out on the front porch and get some air," said Rex.

"Ja, me too," said Sven, taking his baby back from Autumn. Soon the room emptied and Steve and his bride to be were the only ones present.

"Why don't you think we'd be good parents?" Steve asked, struggling to keep his tone even.

"I'm a mess most of the time. Can barely remember to get up and feed myself," she said with a shrug.

"I used to teach," Steve said hotly.

"Yeah, and you got to send the kids home at the end of the day. It was just your job. If we have kids it'll be your LIFE. Non-stop for the next eighteen years, and probably longer than that." Autumn sighed. "Look, Sasquatch, we're both in our thirties already. If we have a kid, That'll make us damn near fifty by the time it reaches high school. You wanna be the creepy old parents?"

"Autumn," Steve said, half laughing. "You're not making any sense."

"I'm making a lot of sense, you're too much of a dumbass to see it!"

Autumn turned sharply and stalked out of the room, arms as stiff as boards. Steve sighed and plopped down on the love seat.

Not an auspicious omen for their marriage. Not at all.

** *

Rich adjusted the rear view mirror of his Lexus, following the path of the shapely woman as she crossed the street half a block away. He was covered by the shadows of skyscrapers, though if he looked straight up through the sunroof he could still see brilliant azure sky. The woman disappeared around a corner, and he reluctantly turned his attention to the sidewalk.

"C'mon, nerd, did you grow a pair of tits?"

He glanced at his phone. It was nearly half past seven, and they still had to drive all the way to Sven's house. Why had he agreed to give Phil a ride, anyway? Was it just so he wouldn't have to show up alone?

His fingers drummed on the leather bound steering wheel. The answer to his question was in the back of his mind, but he was reluctant to examine it too closely. The truth was he didn't want Susan to see him show up unescorted...

Rich glanced up as Phil approached the car. He tried the latch just as Rich unlocked it and slid into the front seat.

"Hey, thanks for the ride. Ellie didn't know how long she was gonna be tied up in the lab."

"You better give me a handy J so I don't get bored."

"You're sick, Rich."

"I'm just kidding, geek."

"I should hope so."

"Yeah, you can suck me off instead."

Phil's turned a baleful eye on him. His thin lips were drawn into a tight line, and his tone was rife with annoyance.

"Why did I agree to ride with you again? I knew I should have went with Steve and Autumn..."

"My ride's so much cooler."

Rich darted out into traffic amid a squealing of tires and deep throbs issuing from the engine. Phil was taken aback by the sudden acceleration, and only regained his composure when they were free and clear on the highway.

"I'm not actually going to suck you off, so you can stop trying to impress me," Phil said with a grin.

"Who says I'm trying to impress you?"

"You're acting funny, man. Ever since Susan went home with that guy you've been overcompensating."

"Guys like me don't overcompensate. You're the type who overcompensates. I'm totally at ease with the size of my dick."

Phil offered a shrug.

"If you say so, man."

"Not only that, but I don't care what Susan does. Little Miss Hotness can bang whoever she wants."

Phil held his hands up in the air, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I mean, sure, I don't want to make it seem like I don't care about Susie," Rich continued "she's a great gal, beautiful and smart, and any asshole who messes with her is gonna get my fist in his face. But it's more like a little sister thing. Really."

"Sure, Rich. I totally get it."

"Good. Don't go starting shit with me about this. Because I'm fine."

They rode in silence for several miles, Manhattan slipping into the distance. Phil took out his phone and swiped across the screen, while Rich tried to jam out to the radio. After the third song in a row that failed to strike his fancy, he glanced over at Phil.

"Who is this guy Susan's been hanging with, anyway?" he said, trying to keep his tone casual.

"Mason something, I think. She knows him from the wrestling circuit. He's a production assistant, or something. They ran into each other at the party and hit it off."

"Is he a rockabilly Christian type?"

"I'm not sure what that is."

"Does he have long hair, a beard, wear blue jeans?"

"Not that I saw."

"Okay, so he's not one of those 'try and resemble Jesus and get laid' kind of guys. Is he conservative?"

"Well, I didn't talk to him much, but I am friended with him on Facebook. He tends to post pro life, put God back in schools kind of stuff, so yeah, I guess he's probably conservative."

Rich's brow furrowed.

"That's not good. Susan is an independent chick. She won't be happy with a guy who wants a woman who loves, honors, and obeys."

Phil laughed, slapping the padded door panel in his glee.

"You of all people I would expect to like that part of the Bible."

Rich's nostrils flared.

"Is that really what you think? Then you don't know me at all. The Rich respects women and their autonomy, and sees them as equals."

"Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?"

"Mark my words, dweeb," Rich said as if he had not been interrupted "this isn't gonna end well for her. Mark my words."

"You just don't want it to go well because you still like Susan."

"Bullshit."

"Whatever, man. It's all over your face, though."

Rich's eyes narrowed but he offered no further comment. Phil returned his attention to the phone in his hands, while Rich was lost in his own thoughts. The sun was just barely clinging to the horizon when they pulled off the highway and entered the upscale subdivision Sven called home.

"Looks like Autumn and Steve are already here," Phil said.

"Should we make up a name for them, like TomKat or Bennifer?"

"Uh...I can't think of any good ones."

"I'll work on it, get back with you when I have something."

"I'm certain, and scared, that you will."

They parked on the street not far from Sven's fine home. Rich tucked his oxford blue shirt back into his dress pants. The thin belt may have been genuine Gabbani, but the knock off he'd gotten from Superstore America had held up his pants much better. That he was the type of guy who'd forgo function for prestige bothered him. When something bothered Rich, he didn't try to work it out and be a brooding goth emo pansy. No, he handled things the time-honored, traditional manly way.

"Is there going to be booze here or what?" Rich asked.

"Uh, duh, it is Sven who's playing host."

Phil held the gate open for him. Rich was bathed in light when he stepped into the front yard. The sidewalk was perfectly even, the smell of fresh cut grass pervasive. A toddler's scarlet toy car sat glazed with rainwater beside the white siding.

My mom would've whipped my ass if I'd left a toy out in the rain, thought Rich.

"Earth to Ricky, would you like to come up on the porch now?"

He glanced up to see Phil standing with a finger poised before the doorbell. Rich did come up, punching Phil with a resounding smack on the bicep.

"Ow! What the hell, man?"

"Don't call me Ricky. Rich, Richard, Richie...shit, old broski old pal, you can even call me Dick if you want. Just never, ever Ricky."

"Why don't you want to be called-"

"Never!" Rich punched him again.

"Ow! Damn it, Rich! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

Phil took a step towards him. Rich had long ago honed his reflexes avoiding the angry strikes of boyfriends and fathers, and easily sidestepped the charge. Phil stumbled a few feet until his head cracked against a potted spider plant. It swung crazily on its hook as Phil clapped a hand to the side of his face.

"Careful."

"Fuck you! This is your fault!"

"What did I do?"

"What did you do?" Phil strode forward, face red and eyes narrowed to slits. His nostrils flared as he grabbed at the air with inarticulate rage.

"Rich! And Phil! You found the place okay, Ja?"

They both turned to see Sven standing in the open front door. Rich felt Phil's eyes boring into his back as they entered the cheery house. They were ushered into the study, where they greeted Rex and Shelly. The last time Rich had seen Sarah Jean, their infant daughter, she had been a shriveled prune at the hospital. Now she had that cute baby look that chicks and pussies went on and on about.

Rich looked to Steve and Autumn, both engaged in lively conversation with the new parents. Their hands were clasped, bodies tight together on the couch. Rich didn't know how they could stand to do that. Always hanging on each other. Then again, his man-senses told him they'd just had a spat so maybe they were overcompensating...

Man, what a wreck Steve had been when Autumn left him, seemingly for good. Rich couldn't imagine being that wrapped up in someone.

The sound of the doorbell heralded the arrival of Crawley. Rich wiped his palms on his pants and tried to look bored as she entered the den. She was lovely as ever; Long dark hair cascading in thick tresses over slender shoulders, dark eyes enigmatic and sultry. Her pouty lips sat beneath a nose that was a tad wide, but Rich had never minded. It added to her exotic mystique.

Crawley had adorned herself in a knee length black dress that showed a tasteful amount of cleavage. Rich had been hoping on a shorter skirt so he could see more of her shapely legs. Her delicate, tiny feet were strapped into a pair of heels that probably cost more than his wardrobe. Ellie was like that with the girly stuff.

You're a rock solid ten, Ellie. Rock. Solid.

With great reluctance, he watched as she and Phil engaged in a quick kiss.

"Who could it be now?" Sven said as the doorbell went off.

"Who could it be now..." said Rex, while Steve put his fist over his mouth and blasted a faux sax sound. "Who could it be noooooowww...."

"Shut up," Sven said. He rose and headed to the front door once again. Rich heard Susan's heels before he saw her. She was dressed in tight black pants with a long cream tunic. Her sandy blonde hair was free tonight, shimmering down her shoulders in the brightly lit room.

Susan's date looked much like what Rich had pictured. Mason was tall and slender, with glasses concealing squinty eyes. His plain features were obscured by a thick beard that struck Rich as Amish, though he knew those weird fucks never grew mustaches for some reason. Rich noted the way that his eyes narrowed when they focused on Autumn.

Judged her on sight, did ya buddy? Fucking Dillhole.

"Nice to meet you, Mason," Steve said, striding up and shaking the skinny man's hand. Mason stared up at the behemoth before him, seemingly unable to comprehend how big the man really was. Steve had that effect on a lot of people, especially if they'd seen him on TV before they met him in person. In the world of Pro Wrestling, Steve was only slightly larger than average and far from the biggest man on the roster. In person, he was simply huge.

"Likewise. That's quite a grip you've got there, Mr. Borgia."

"Please, call me Steve."

"How's it going, man?" Rex said, nodding from his place on the sofa. "I'd get up and shake your hand, but-"

"It's cool, you've got something more important to do. How old is she?"

"Three months, twelve days."

"Can I hold her?" Susan said.

"Sure."

Rich shifted in his seat as Susan took the baby in her arms. The smile on her face was sublime as she stroked a finger across the child's smooth cheek. He felt a strange revulsion in his belly, the sight of her holding another man's child stirring up things in his mind he preferred remain buried.

"Yo, Steve, you've been here a lot. Where's the booze?"

"There's a liquor cabinet under that bookshelf, but I don't know if it's unlocked."

Rich found the alcove and slid the door to the side. He selected a bottle of whiskey and a stack of shot glasses.

"Who wants to get their drunk on?"

"Rich, this is a formal dinner party, not a kegger," Phil said.

"I said drunk, not piss drunk." Rich poured himself a shot. Steve shrugged and indulged him, as did Autumn and Rex. Shelly declined the whiskey on the grounds it burned her throat. When Susan stepped up and prepared to reach for a glass, Mason stopped her by noisily clearing his throat.

"Oh, sorry." Susan retracted her hand. Rich arched a brow and cast his gaze back and forth between her and Mason.

"What's the deal? You've never turned down a shot of Wild Turkey before."

"It's my fault," Mason said. "I can't stand alcohol. It keeps people from the path God has laid out for them."

"So you don't like booze, so what? Why can't Susie drink if she wants?

"Rich, please, it's not your business," Susan said sharply.

"Not my business? You're my...my friend. That makes it my business."

"I can't be with someone who drinks," Mason said, drawing their attention to him. "I told Susan if we were going to date she would have to stop drinking."

"Controlling much?" Rich turned to Susan, brow deeply furrowed. "How can you just be okay with this?"

"Like I said, it's not your business, is it?" Susan said, eyes glinting as she sneered.

"Uh," said Rex "so, where's this babysitter that's in-house?"

"Upstairs," Steve said "I think they said Sven's sister is watching the kids."

Rich noticed Mason's stance shift subtly. He knew what the man was thinking, because he was thinking the same thing.

What makes a girl swoon more than holding a precious baby?

"Here," Rich said, stepping forward "let me take Sara Jean for you."

"Are you sure?" said Rex, giving him a narrow eyed gaze.

"Yeah, I haven't held her since she was barely a zygote."

"Uh, okay." Rex handed off the bundle. Rich's nostrils were filled with the aroma of baby powder and sour milk. Indeed, little Sarah Jean let out a moderately loud burp in his face.

"Chip off the old block, this one," Rich said as he carried her upstairs. He had been to Sven's a few times, but had never been upstairs. Still, it was easy to locate the bedroom being used as a nursery from the noise. The door was partially open, and he shoved it with his shoulder as he made his entrance.

"Uh, hey, I got one more for you, and it's a little one."

He blinked in the bright light. The stairway and hallway were dimly lit, and the sudden increase in illumination was overwhelming. He made out the dim shapes of Sven's two young children and a woman he took to be Sven's sister.

"That's fine, I've been expecting him. Got a crib set up and everything..."

Rich's eyes finally adjusted, and he found himself staring at Vanya. Her cheeks were flushed; it was clear she remembered him as well.

"What happened to your accent, Vanya, if that is your real name?"

Vanya bit her lower lip and glanced off to the side.

"Well, this is awkward."

"Not really."

"It is for me! I was hoping...well, I thought you weren't coming to the stupid dinner!"

"You faked an accent! Oh my god, you played me! I should have recognized the 'clueless but horny' foreigner routine. I've used it often enough."

"Shh," said Vanya, closing the door behind him. "Look, Rich, I'm sorry I wasn't straight with you, but be honest. Were you really wanting anything more than a one night stand?"

"Well..."

"I thought this would make it easier for both of us."

"Well, you thought right, for what it's worth. Problem is, now I know, so that's where we're at."

"Here," Vanya took the baby from him and cradled her. "Rich, you can't tell Sven about the other night. You can't."

"No problem. The Rich knows how to play it on the down low. So when we gonna hook up again?"

"Again? Look, Rich, I'm not into repeat performances."

"I'm not normally, either, but it was something else, wasn't it?"

Vanya's face split in a big grin.

"Yes, it was."

"So who says lighting only strikes once? This dinner'll be over at what, ten? We can go out and eat and everything."

"Won't you have just eaten dinner?"

Rich cursed inwardly. What a Phil thing to say!