Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Karma A story in Nick Scipio's Summer Camp Universe (c) 2006 by Wine Maker

   Summer Camp characters and universe (c) 2006 by Nick Scipio. All Rights
reserved.

   This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents are
either the product of the author's imagination, are used fictitiously, or
are used with the kind permission of Nick Scipio, and any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales
is entirely coincidental.

   This story is fan fiction.  It's also a short story of only five
chapters.  I've tried to write it in enough detail to explain at least the
minimum needed for the characters to make sense, but it is a story based on
someone else's written work with a pre-established history that would take
too long to cover in full detail.  If you want more back story, I suggest
you read Nick's excellent Summer Camp series.  Even if you don't want more
back story, I still suggest you read Summer Camp.

   The main character in this story is Regan Thomas, a minor character in
Nick's epic.  She's rich, self-centered, and one of the major factors in a
seriously bad time for Nick's protagonist, Paul.  They were in college in
the 80's when that happened and this story is set twenty years later.

   My incredible editor, Jo Beller, saw something redeeming in Regan while
many other readers condemned her as a bad seed.  Jo finally convinced me
that there was more depth to her that should be explored.  I pondered
Regan's Karma and this story is the result.  I give credit to Nick for
creating characters to fire our imaginations and Jo for believing in this
story.  And, of course, to my wife/editor, Mrs.  Wine Maker, for all her
support.  My writing is a tribute to her.

   Chapter One: Spiral descent 2 Chapter Two: An unexpected visitor 12
Chapter Three: Blindsided 22 Chapter Four: A leap of faith 42 Chapter Five:
Karma 56



   Chapter One: Spiral descent

   Killington, VT November 12, 2000

   My mother's hand was as cold as ice.  She looked so pretty in her
designer teal dress, salon-perfect hair, flawless makeup, and serene
expression - one I had very rarely seen; she seemed so sublimely at peace.

   She'd chosen an elegant ebony coffin with gleaming brass fittings.  The
soft rose pillows effortlessly set off her dress.  Leave it to my mother to
be perfect, even in death admonishing me for not being like her.

   I swallowed painfully and blinked back a fresh stream of tears.  I
wanted to scream for her to get up and stop playing this cruel prank on me.
Even seeing her like this, I couldn't accept that such a vibrant woman
could have breast cancer.  It boggled my mind that she hadn't checked
herself regularly.

   Setting her hand down gently, I stepped away from the casket to stand
next to a large wreath of flowers done in a wrap of cardinal and straw. 
Those were the colors of Chi Omega.  One of the few things we shared.  Her
sorority sisters would be out in force at her graveside service but had
chosen to leave the funeral to the family.

   I used my thoroughly soaked tissue to wipe my swollen eyes.  I couldn't
- wouldn't - start sniping at her again, even if she wasn't here to snipe
back.  I'd give anything to have one more chance to argue with her.  Even
if only to hear her express, politely and condescendingly, her profound
disappointment that I couldn't be more like her.

   God knows I'd had tried to be like her, to be that same vibrant, perfect
woman.  Even though she didn't think us anything alike, I knew we shared at
least one trait: stubbornness.  This is why we were here instead of
Tennessee.  Her family was from Tennessee, but she'd put her foot down in
her will, and things were going to be done her way.  The funeral would take
place in town near her beloved Vermont chalet.  At least I assumed it was
because of her will, since I wasn't privy to its contents.

   The rest of the family had raised hell, but nonetheless, here we were.
They hadn't stayed for the whole first day, but they'd be back in force
tomorrow for the second day of viewing.  Then we'd have the funeral on day
three, and she would fly back to Tennessee for burial.  After that, I'd
have to stay yet another day with Conrad since Mother named us both in her
will.  As her most recent husband, I expected he would walk away with
everything she'd treasured and that pissed me off.  I couldn't stand him.

   The tears flowed again, refusing to obey me.  Some part of me said it
was okay to cry, but another part warred with that notion.  With a sniff, I
realized that was pride.  It's another trait I shared with my mother, who'd
taught me how to make it an art.  Pride argued that I couldn't be seen
losing control like this in public, even at my own mother's funeral
viewing. I had to maintain appearances.

   I laughed humorlessly through the tears.  The all-important family
pride. Doing what the family expected had certainly worked well for me so
far, hadn't it?  All that trying to live up to other's unrealistic
expectations had gotten me was two divorces and a distant - and sometimes
barely civil - relationship with my parents.  Ever since I was a teenager,
I'd tried to be just like my mother, and tried to be exactly what my father
expected me to be.  I'd succeeded far beyond my wildest dreams of success.
What was that old saying?  "Be careful what you wish for because you just
might get it."

   I'd called both of my closest friends as soon as I'd found out that my
mother had died, but both Gina and Margot were out of the country with
their families.  I'd left frantic messages for them to no avail.  I felt
all alone and badly needed to talk to someone I trusted.

   I almost swore at Conrad again.  He'd called my assistant yesterday to
pass on the news about the funeral.  No one had even told me she was ill,
much less dead.  If Daddy hadn't called to coordinate our schedules I
probably would've missed the first viewing.  Conrad hadn't mentioned the
viewing at all, damn him.  When I'd called him back, he'd blandly insisted
that my assistant must've misunderstood.  The lying bastard.

   Through the haze of my grief, a cold, arrogant voice said, "If you're
going to carry on like this, please take it to the ladies' room." Conrad
was back for another go at me.  He seemed to go out of his way to screw
with me these days.  Fine.  At least the fury inside me pushed away the
pain for a little while.

   The tears dried up as if by magic and I was clearly able to see the
bastard standing in front of me.  I could see what attracted my mother to
him; he was tall and handsome - the perfect piece of arm candy.  Knowing my
mother, he was probably good in bed, too.  The thought of them together
sent a wave of revulsion through me.

   "Tell me, Conrad, do you even know why people have viewings for the
dead?" I asked acerbically.

   "Certainly not to carry on like some common piece of trash," he sniffed,
"caterwauling on and on.  She was my wife and I won't have you disrupting
the solemn decorum that she wanted."

   I considered taking the massive wreath that Hans and Kat Werner had sent
and bashing him with it.  Actually, I was reaching for it when I yanked
myself up short.  It'd taken a lot of years and experience for me to think
about the consequences before I acted.  It still didn't come naturally to
me.

   I frowned at Conrad's smarmy smile.  He and I had cordially loathed one
another since my mother married him four years ago.  Well, that was partly
a lie; we'd never been cordial, but this was out there even for him.  Why
attack me like this here, of all places?

   Movement at the doorway gave me my answer.  He wanted to embarrass me in
front of someone that mattered.  Daddy walked in with his wife, Melissa.  I
spared Conrad a glare of pure hatred and schooled my features.  I wasn't
going to disappoint Daddy.

   "I'll grieve as I see fit.  This isn't over, asshole," I snarled in a
low voice.

   Sweeping past Conrad as though he weren't there, I went directly to my
father and let him take me into his arms.

   His awkward embrace was both comforting in its familiarity and saddening
in its brevity.  We'd never been more than strangers who just happened to
occupy the same house and gene pool.  From the earliest moment I could
remember, I knew that he was uncomfortable with children, even his own.  My
father's shows of affection had always been brief and awkward and that
never changed in all these years.

   I received a perfunctory hug and kiss from Melissa, but her eyes didn't
reflect the sorrow on her face.  I sometimes wondered how a woman like her
had taken Daddy in.  She was only ten years my senior and something of a
cosmetically enhanced Barbie doll.

   On the other hand, we were enough alike to disturb me.  After marrying
two men for their wealth and power, I couldn't very well deride her for
doing the same, now could I.  The fact that they were still married after
almost eight years told me that at the very least she was better at
handling a philandering husband than I was.  Even with her good looks, I
knew Daddy too well to expect he'd stopped playing the field.  I wondered
if I would be her in ten years.  If I were, would it finally make him
happy?

   "I'm so glad to see you both," I said, my voice astonishingly steady. 
"Thank you for coming."

   "Where else would we be, darling?" Daddy said in a gruff voice.  "You
need your family around you at a time like this." His glance at his Rolex
ruined the effect of those wonderful sentiments.

   I almost laughed aloud at such an honest gesture from the man that sired
me, the man whose love I'd worked so hard to get as a teen.  He was also
amazingly like both my ex- husbands.  One would think I'd have learned
something by watching my mother deal with him, but in the end, I'd ended up
marrying men just like him.

   Mentally, I shrugged.  Why complain about it?  What else was there?  All
men were alike, weren't they?  Certainly, I had never met or been with
anyone who'd make me believe otherwise, though some of my friends seemed
genuinely happy in their marriages.  Gina came to mind.  She was genuinely
in love with her husband.  I didn't like him at first, but he made her
happy, so I'd grown to like him over the years.

   "Why don't you and Melissa go say your good-byes?" I said with my best
hostess face on.  "I'm sure you're exhausted from your flight and want to
get out to the chalet to rest."

   "We should speak to a few people first." With a smile, Daddy led Melissa
to speak with the now solemn and visibly grief-stricken Conrad.  It would
be awkward for both men, I hoped.

   Immediately, I felt guilty for being such a bitch.  I always managed to
be a bitch about something and then feel badly about it later, though
thankfully I managed to keep my mouth shut more often than not these days.
It was my worst flaw; I'm certain both of my ex-husbands would agree.

   With a sigh, I grabbed my coat, walked out the front door of the funeral
home, and looked at the sky.  Lead gray clouds hung low above me, promising
a good storm tonight.  I felt some satisfaction that the weather matched my
mood so well.

   I shook myself.  I'd had enough of this wallowing in self-pity.  There'd
be time for that once I was away from this place and away from Conrad. 
Part of me longed to go back to the chalet; I wanted to reacquaint myself
with the bar.  Another part of me wanted to go back inside and be with my
mother.  I knew that part of my dark mood was simply a result of being
tired.

   After standing there for a little while, I thought I could be in the
same room with the rest of them again.  The viewing ended in half an hour.
The relative lack of viewers told me that I hadn't been the only person
that the self-centered asshole had failed to inform in a timely fashion.

   Just before I turned to go back inside, a taxi pulled up and a ghost
from my past - one I'd hoped never to see again - climbed out and paid the
cabbie.  I wanted to run back inside.  Hell, I wanted to grab the taxi and
tell him to head for LA, but I was rooted to the spot.  Like a rabbit
frozen in fear and unable to run from an advancing snake, I watched him
approach with his bag over his shoulder.

   "Hey, babe," Rod said with a grin.  "Did you miss me?"

   I stood in shock for a moment and then I ran back into the funeral home.
I slammed the door in his face, holding it closed with my back, trembling.
He'd been my boyfriend in high school and college; we'd broken up and
gotten back together countless times over those years.  I'd finally dumped
him for good when I realized that if he were what a boyfriend was
"supposed" to be, then it wasn't enough for me.  Rod was a total asshole
and serially unfaithful, screwing anything with boobs and a pussy.  And
let's not forget the cocaine in unlimited quantities.  He'd been handsome
and rich, a member of my social caste.  I'd allowed society's expectations
to either keep us together or keep getting us back together for far too
long.  What in hell was he doing here?

   When Rod knocked on the door, I yelled back as calmly as I could.  "Go
back into whatever hole you crawled out of!"

   "Come on, babe, be reasonable," he pleaded from outside.  "I just came
to pay my respects to your mother and talk with you.  How can that hurt?"

   How can that hurt?  He apparently had a different set of memories than I
did.  Combined with my family's own dysfunctions, the entire tumultuous
relationship with him had set the tone for every relationship of mine that
followed.  While I couldn't blame him for my mistakes, I didn't have to
like what he'd done to me.

   I was trying to find the lock on the door when Daddy, Melissa and Conrad
came out, probably attracted by my yelling.

   "Did you say Rod, darling?" Daddy asked.  "Open the door and let him
in."

   Gritting my teeth, I opened the door and stepped back.  Rod walked in
with a smile for everyone.  That was his way.  He was the golden boy.  No
one ever believed he did, or could do, the kind of things he did, and he
got off easier than OJ Simpson.

   Daddy smiled and took his hand.  "Rod, my boy!  What a pleasant
surprise! What brings you from Bermuda on a night like this?" Rod had fled
to Bermuda after he beat charges over a car loaded with drugs, and that had
suited me just fine.  Oh, he'd made a show of transferring to Miami to
finish his degree, but even without proof, I knew the later move to Bermuda
was just a continuation of his flight from scrutiny.  Rod worked best under
the cover of darkness.

   "It's good to see you, Mr.  Thomas," Rod said diffidently.  "I was
trying to have a few private words with Regan to express my condolences and
catch up on old times, but I think I've upset her.  I'll just go into town,
get a room, and leave her some space.  I'll see you all after the funeral."

   "Oh, I wouldn't hear of it," Conrad said with a malicious smile.  "We
have plenty of room, and I absolutely insist you stay with us."

   My mouth dropped open like a hooked fish.  "You've got to be kidding me!
There's no way he's staying with me!"

   Conrad turned to my father with a raised eyebrow.  My father shook his
head.  "Don't be that way, baby.  We have plenty of room and Rod is an old
friend of the family.  He can stay." With a triumphant smile, Conrad walked
outside with Daddy.

   Rod shrugged at me, hefted his bag, and followed.  Daddy hadn't even
looked at me.  His decision settled the matter.  Melissa looked at me,
though, and then she looked at Rod and smiled.  Her desire for Rod was
clearly visible.  This was just peachy.  It was bad enough that I was
staying with Daddy Clueless and three pit vipers, but now it appeared that
one viper had a hunger for another.

   "We're calling it a day and going to the chalet," Melissa said.  "You're
supposed to come with us."

   I closed the door, resting my forehead against the cool wood.  Then I
started banging my head rhythmically against it.  I loved my father, I
really did, but he made me crazy.  "I'm supposed to do a lot of things."

   "So, I take it that you and Rod have a history," Melissa continued when
I regained control of myself, acting as if I'd never tried to bash my own
brains out on the door.  "But that's over, right?" Her attraction to Rod
turned to lust before my eyes, and for a moment I considered warning her,
but I really didn't want to share my history with Rod.  With a shrug, I
realized that they probably deserved one another.

   "It couldn't be more over if he was run over by a bus," I confirmed. 
"I'm going back in for a moment to see Mother again, and then I'll be out."
I marched back inside and took a deep breath before walking more sedately
to the casket.

   After a minute of silence, I went to join my impatient family for the
ride to the chalet.  All of them had crammed themselves into Conrad's white
SUV.  I climbed in next to Daddy and sulked all the way to the chalet.



   When we arrived, we all went in and started stripping off our outerwear.
Melissa looked around the foyer and I remembered that she'd never been here
before.  While Mother was alive, she'd never have stood for either Melissa
or Daddy coming here, much less actually staying here.

   It'd been years since I'd been here myself and I wanted to refresh my
memory of the place, so I decided to give Melissa the tour.  The pine
entryway opened into a wide stairway that led up to the great room.  To
either side of the entry were benches.  Above them on the walls, hooks
waited for coats.

   The men stripped their outerwear quickly and went upstairs.  I shrugged
off my coat, hung it up, and pulled off my shoes.  I motioned for Melissa
to follow me up to the great room.  At one time, I'd thought it was nothing
to scream about, but I'd learned to love it and the rest of the place over
the years.  It had so many good memories.  I'd shared it with my parents
and with friends.  That made me smile.  These walls would ruin my
reputation, such as it was, if they could talk.  Back in college, and on
selected trips later, my friends and I had had some wild times here.

   Melissa looked impressed at the huge room, and I felt an unexpected
burst of pride.  It was over two stories tall with incredible
floor-to-ceiling windows on the far end.  The pine paneling that continued
seamlessly from below supported antique ski equipment that added ambiance
to the wide-open space.  Throughout the room were scattered couches and end
tables that fit the spirit of the place like a glove.  The stone fireplace
took up about half of one wall and a long wet bar ran along the opposite
side of the room.  Finally, two hallways led off, one to the left and one
to the right.

   I pointed to the glass doors that melded into the large windows.  "We
have a deck out there with a big hot tub and there are rooms down each of
the hallways.  Sometime during the screaming match when I arrived, Conrad
said you were in the second room on the left side of the leftmost hall. 
I'm in the room next to yours." The first room on that side had been my
room for as long as I could remember.  I'd checked to be sure that Conrad
was on the opposite side of the house.  "There are bathrooms at the end of
both halls and the kitchen is the first door on the right side of the
rightmost hall.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go change."

   When I had my door closed and locked behind me, I threw myself on the
bed and held my head.  How could things go so badly so quickly?  I hid for
half an hour, trying to convince myself it was all a bad dream.  Then I
gave up, grabbed some clothes, and sequestered myself in the bathroom for a
long, hot shower.

   The house was suspiciously quiet when I returned to the great room. 
Maybe I was alone.  A check of the kitchen showed it to be empty and
spotless.  I walked back out and mixed myself a drink.  I needed it.  I
needed more, but this was all I allowed myself these days.

   I'd barely seated myself on one of the couches when Rod came out of my
hallway.  So much for being alone, I thought.  He had changed into a set of
slacks and a turtleneck.  That was one thing about Rod.  He always cleaned
up well.  You'd never know about the slime that lay under that slick and
handsome exterior.

   I took a breath and looked away from him, pretending I was alone.  That,
of course, didn't work.  He fixed himself a drink and sat down across from
me.

   "I didn't come here to hurt you," he said softly

   My head snapped up.  "Forgive me," I said sarcastically, "but I don't
see you coming all this way just to comfort me."

   He smiled.  "People change.  We haven't seen each other in a lot of
years.  I understand that I hurt you, that I disappointed you, and I want
to apologize for it.  You didn't deserve that."

   I blinked in surprise.  Rod apologizing was...  unbelievable.  I'd have
an easier time believing that he was gay than he was sorry.  "I...  Thank
you." The subtle scent of his cologne wormed its way into my senses in
unsettling reminders of him.

   Against my will, I let him slowly get me talking.  The years we'd been a
couple worked against me, because he knew just how to get me to relax my
guard.  In an hour, the impossible had happened.  I was sitting with Rod
and having a civil conversation about the things that had happened to both
of us in the last two decades.  I even listened to his tales of woe about
his ex-wives, and commiserated with stories about my failed marriages.  It
was surreal.  He refilled my drink when it emptied and was more smooth and
polished than I remembered him being.  I guessed we'd both matured.

   I considered telling him how badly my mother's death had hurt me, but I
couldn't imagine being that honest with him.  Part of me kept waiting for
the other shoe to drop.  This had to be a lead-in to something else.  Rod
didn't do anything without a reason.  Compassion was not one of his
failings, and he could never change enough to make it a virtue.  I told
myself that repeatedly, but still felt my will weakening.

   Then my alarms went off.  How much had I had to drink?  I blinked at the
smiling Rod, suddenly wary again.  He was now sitting on the same couch as
I was and had moved uncomfortably close.  Looking down I saw what tripped
my alarm.  His hand was on my leg.  Oh God!  He was making a move on me!  A
wave of revulsion mixed with desire flooded through me.  Some part of me
wanted him, but I wasn't going to go there again.

   "No," I said, moving his hand from my leg.

   Surprisingly, he took that with a nod.  "You're probably right," he
said, standing up and going back to the bar.  "We might not be ready for
that.  Still, if I can't help you feel better that way, there are other
options." He dug under the bar, for a small serving platter and turned his
back to me.

   "Like what?" I asked, the alarms now screaming inside me.  "Rod, I think
I'd better call it a night before we do something that will undo what
goodwill we've built up."

   "You're right.  I have one last peace offering."

   He turned around and set the platter on the low table between us, and I
suddenly knew where he was going.  He'd laid several lines of cocaine on
the mirror-bright surface next to an even larger pile of the stuff.  Part
of me wanted to slap it off the table or smash Rod in the head with it. 
More frightening, though, another part of me felt the "tingle." Any addict
knew about that desire.  No matter how long you'd been clean, it never
fully went away.  In previous times of stress I'd felt the draw of that
insidious white powder, but I'd managed to avoid slipping.  So far.

   I watched him pull out the tightly rolled hundred he favored as a
"tooter" and snort the lines.  Then I gulped when he offered it to me. 
"No," I said weakly.  "I gave that up five years ago.  It almost destroyed
my life.  I won't go back to it."

   "I'm not telling you to start snorting regularly again," he said
seductively, "but this is the worst time in your life and you need
something.  You just said you didn't have anyone that could be there for
you and you know how a line or two picks you up.  You feel good.  The pain
just goes away.  Then in a few days, when this is all over, you can just
put it back away."

   The frightening thing was his logic sounded almost reasonable.

   Shaking off the impulse, I dragged myself to my feet.  "I should've
known this was all an act!" Then I did smash the tray off the table in a
cloud of expensive drugs.  "You want me to take that shit so I'll be back
under your control.  I remember how it was and what it did to me." I
half-turned to stalk off and fired one more shot at Rod.  "I may not be
able to toss your sorry ass out of here, but if you value that pretty face
of yours, stay the hell away from me."

   He grabbed my hand.  "Fine, reject me, but I'm doing this for you.  This
is the only way you'll make it." He slid a small vial into my hand and
closed my fingers.  "Just in case you change your mind."

   I wanted to throw it back in his face, but my instincts and desires
warred inside me.  Enough of me wanted to do it that I couldn't force
myself to just throw it away.  I found my hand gripping the vial tightly.
"I won't use this," I said defiantly.

   In his eyes, I saw a muted flash of something.  Was it satisfaction? 
Then he nodded.  "Goodnight, Regan."

   Breathing raggedly, I stumbled into the bathroom and showered
mechanically, scrubbing the feel of the white powder off my arms and then
my entire body.  When I felt clean at last, I went to my room and locked
the door behind me.  I set the vial on my dresser and sat on the bed,
staring at it.  Could I do coke once and then stop again?  Would I be
ruining my life all over again?  Did it matter anymore?

   Silkily, the inner voice told me that I couldn't possibly hurt any worse
than I did right now, and that Rod was right.  That cocaine would make the
pain go away.  I could always go back into rehab if I couldn't stop on my
own.

   I stripped off my robe and turned off the lights, but I could still feel
the siren call of the white powder in the darkness.  Inside, I knew if I
dithered long enough in making my decision, I'd probably give in, and the
voice seized on that to urge me not to fight anymore.  I was still
wrestling with my demons when I fell asleep.



   Chapter Two: An unexpected visitor

   It was pitch black outside when I woke up needing to use the restroom.
The clock on the nightstand said it was a little before 6:00 AM.  My mouth
tasted terrible.  That just wouldn't do.  I had to take a toothbrush to my
teeth right now.

   I grabbed a robe and wrapped it around myself.  It was too early for
this crowd to be up, but there was no way I was taking chances around Rod.
I hurried out of my room toward the bathroom and stopped dead in my tracks.
Five feet away, staring at me with equal surprise was Melissa.

   She didn't let that surprise stop her from softly closing Rod's door
behind her and holding a finger up to her lips.  Her robe was loose; her
hair was in wild disarray.  Even after all that bastard had done, and all
the time that had passed, I still felt a momentary surge of jealousy.  With
a snort to myself, I forced it down.  I really was an idiot to have any
emotion for Rod other than contempt.

   I smiled and shook my head.  Daddy had outdone himself in getting a
woman that suited him this time.  I wondered if he knew his sweetie was
sleeping around on him.  If he knew, did he care?  Regardless, I certainly
didn't.  I motioned for her to go on without saying a word.  Neither Rod's
past nor Melissa's present infidelity was my problem.  If Daddy didn't know
that someone was diddling his darling on the side, it only sounded like
fitting justice to me.

   With a languid smile, Melissa opened Daddy's door and slipped back
inside.

   I locked the bathroom door behind me since I didn't want Rod walking in
on me.  Rod had a bad habit of doing that to me and my friends.  I did my
business and decided to shower so I could dress and get the hell out of
this cursed place before people started getting up.  The last day of the
viewing would be soon enough to look at them.

   As I dressed in my room a few minutes later, I kept glancing at the vial
of cocaine.  My hand itched to put it in my purse, just in case.  I almost
did, but in the end, I left it there and locked my door behind me on the
way out.  There was no need for me to be worried someone might see it.  The
maid would leave the locked room alone in her morning cleaning rounds.

   I smiled maliciously as I boosted Conrad's spare keys from the hook by
the door and let myself out.  I could take one of the other cars in the
three-car garage, but this would piss him off, and that made it the perfect
choice.

   In a few minutes, I had his SUV on the road into town and my stomach was
starting to growl.  I tried to find a place that was open for breakfast
this early.  And it needed to be someplace that I wouldn't run into any of
Mother's family.

   The first place I saw that fit the bill was one of those all-night
diners.  It looked like it should have had a flickering neon sign.  The
coffee was probably going to rip the lining out of my stomach.  Screw it. I
parked and walked in past two truckers on their way out.  I saw them stare
at me and knew I didn't quite fit the usual customer in this place.  Good.

   The waitress that seated me looked a little worse for wear.  Her
frazzled bottle-red hair threatened to escape from her hairnet in the same
way her tits tried to escape her low-cut top.  In this crowd, that probably
earned some good tips.

   "What'll it be, Hon?" She sounded like she should give up her
two-pack-a-day habit while she still had a throat.

   I looked at the menu.  "What won't kill me?"

   The waitress - Alice, her tag read - laughed roughly.  "If I had a
nickel for every time I heard that.  Go with the omelets, and the coffee
isn't too bad."

   "Fine," I said.  "Give me a veggie omelet, no onions, and a coffee."

   "You got it."

   I forgot her as soon as she swayed off to another table.  I let the
black cloud of thoughts flow over me and put my head into my hands.  This
depression and anger always seemed to be waiting for a chance to slip into
my head.  My life sucked.

   I shook my head to force the negative thoughts out.  Fighting these
black moods and self- criticism was a never-ending battle.  I knew I wasn't
being fair to myself.  Until Mother died, I'd had my life turned around, at
least some.  Actually, Gina and Margot had turned my life around.

   Gina, especially, had finally told me that I needed to change.  She'd
been pretty firm, too.  I yelled and screamed.  I threw a tantrum.  I
sulked.  And when the choice became clear that I'd lose my best friends if
I didn't do something, I'd started changing.  Years later, with what seemed
like their tireless support, I was still fighting to change.  In the
process I'd found out that I didn't really know who Regan Thomas was,
though in the last few years I'd started looking forward to meeting her.

   After a few minutes, when Alice set the coffee on the table, I dragged
myself back from the depths of my thoughts.  I looked out into the parking
lot while I sipped the paint thinner she called 'not too bad' coffee.  I
think I was wrong.  She didn't smoke at all.  She just drank this stuff.

   A beaten up, muddy Land Rover lumbered into the parking lot.  A man in a
worn leather bomber jacket climbed out and stretched.  My imagination
placed him as a construction worker.  A handsome construction worker.  He
looked a lot better than the average customer in this joint did.  Forget
this joint.  He looked a lot better than most men anywhere did.  Fit and
trim, he probably worked out.  And his walk...

   He walked up to the doorway and smiled at Alice while she flirted with
him.  I gave him an automatic once-over as she led him down toward the
empty table next to mine.  Tall, with a ruggedly handsome face and dark
eyes framed in straight black hair that fell to his shoulders.  With the
beat up leather jacket covering his torso, it was hard to be certain, but
he seemed muscular.  His walk exuded an air of confidence without the usual
arrogance.  That was an unusual combination in men, in my experience.

   When he stopped beside my table, I knew what was coming next: the come
on.  Men only had one thing on their minds.  His words startled me, though.
"You're Regan Thomas, right?"

   "Do I know you?" I asked with a frown.

   His lips curved a little.  "Probably not, but I know you.  I'm Antonio
Di Ricco.  I'm so sorry to hear about your mother." He offered me his hand
and I shook it automatically while trying to recall the name.

   When I did place it, my frown deepened.  "I remember someone by that
name, but he was my father's age," I said.  "A big guy, kind of, you know,
round."

   He nodded.  "That's my dad, Big Tony.  I came with him to see your dad a
few times when we were teenagers.  The round part happens to men in my
family if they don't work out," he added with a grin, "and even my father
would tell you that since he never works out, he's fatter than hell.  Mind
if I join you?"

   My memory clicked.  I remembered him now, a skinny kid that resented his
father dragging him around.  I remembered overhearing his father tell Daddy
that he thought his kid would give him a stroke or end up in prison or,
more likely, both.  After hearing Daddy agree with his friend, I decided to
avoid the kid.

   Well, that was then and this was now.  I wasn't inclined to let Daddy
make my calls anymore.

   "Sure, have a seat.  I remember you now," I said with a nod.  "So, if
your dad is Big Tony, does that make you Little Tony?"

   He shrugged as he sat, although I saw the barest flicker - an echo of
some long ago pain - in his eyes.  "I just go by Tony.  I don't like being
compared to my father." He looked at Alice, and pointed at me.  "I'll take
whatever she's having."

   "Okay, Tony it is," I said as Alice sashayed back off.  "I didn't think
you knew my mother or father so well."

   "I don't," he agreed.  "My dad got word too late to make it here.  I'm
here in the area for work, so Dad called to ask me to come in his place. 
You know, wave the family flag."

   That I understood all too well.  "Mine usually just tells me he wants me
somewhere and then expects me to obey."

   Tony laughed.  "My father lost that hold on me when he disowned me and
tossed my sorry ass out of his house on my seventeenth birthday."

   I sucked in my breath.  "He disowned you?  That's terrible!  If he did
that, why come here for him at all?"

   Tony shrugged again.  "I'm not here for him.  I'm here for myself.  I'm
a Di Ricco and we pay our debts, both money and honor.  My family should be
here for yours at a time like this so I'm here."

   I nodded, impressed despite myself.

   "Besides, throwing me out was the right thing to do," he continued,
"even if I didn't like it at the time.  I was a real punk.  In his place,
I'd have thrown me out, too.  "

   "Wow." I knew that Daddy, Melissa and Conrad all understood money, but I
doubted any of them even knew that honor existed.  I shook my head and
leaned back as my omelet arrived.

   Alice smiled at Tony.  "I put a rush on yours, sugar."

   I took a bite and decided it probably wasn't immediately fatal.

   Tony smiled at Alice.  "Thanks." Then he stood and took off his jacket;
I was right about him working out.  His black tee shirt did nothing to hide
his solid physique.

   I felt a moment of physical longing, but repressed it.  The very last
thing I needed now was a complication like him in my life.  Other women
could have casual flings but I'd never been able to be that way.  If I
slept with a man, it was because we were in a relationship for the long
haul - not that the long haul ever seemed to last more than three or four
years for me.  Men being men, I doubted that my four-year record was in any
danger.

   Fortunately, men were not my only option when I was horny.  Having a bit
of fun between the sheets was different with another woman; for whatever
reason, I had no problem with the idea of casual girl-girl sex - sometimes
very casual.  I wouldn't be jumping into bed, though, with a disowned...

   "What do you do for a living?" I asked as I continued to eat slowly.

   "I'm in construction," he said, confirming my first impression.  "We're
building an apartment complex at a job site about three hundred miles down
the highway."

   I'd guessed right.  I smiled.  Too bad a relationship was out of the
question.  Still, it was for the best.  He'd just use me for my body and my
money and then cheat on me in spite of both.  He was a man, after all.

   "That sounds very interesting," I said politely.

   "No, it doesn't," he replied with a grin.  "I can tell that swinging a
hammer isn't very interesting to you, but that's okay," he said,
forestalling my objection as his expression sobered.  "If there's anything
that I can do for you, all you have to do is ask.  I didn't know your
mother, but it was obvious to me that she loved you.  I could see it even
when I was a kid."

   Men didn't usually surprise me.  Not even when I found out they'd been
sleeping around.

   "And if I do need to ask you for something, how would I get hold of
you?" I finally got out.  I figured it was time for the line about how 'if
I wanted to get a hold of him all I had to do was put my hand out.'

   Instead, he dug out a worn leather wallet and pulled out a card.  He
flipped it over to write on it.  "Here's my cell number," he said.  "If you
need anything at all, call me.  Day or night." He handed me the card and I
looked at the numbers written in a strong, bold hand.  A flip of the card
showed it wasn't his card.  It was for some truck stop.  I could only
imagine why a man would have the number for a truck stop in his wallet. 
I'll never understand men.

   I slid the card into my purse and considered him silently as his plate
arrived and he seasoned it to taste.  "Do you miss the world you had when
you were growing up?" I asked.

   He grinned at me and took another bite of his omelet.  "What's not to
miss?  Having money to burn and no idea how I want to spend it?  Having my
dad try to mold me into someone just like him?  Frankly, I'm better off not
having everything laid out for me," he waved his fork at me.  "Not that I'm
better than anyone else."

   There was some pride in there.  He and I had a lot in common.  A lot
more than met the eye, I thought.

   "So you were a rebel without a clue?" I asked.  "Trying to find a place
and way for yourself?"

   "Oh, hell no!  I knew exactly what my goal in life was; I was being a
pain in my father's ass," he said.  "People think it's easier to be rich.
We both know that's not true.  Hell, if I'd gotten a tattoo back then, my
dad would have tossed me out even faster."

   "You have a tattoo?" I asked with more interest than I'd expected and
certainly more than I'd intended to let on.  I'd considered getting one
when I was younger, but the horror stories were just too much for me to get
past.  "What kind?"

   "A mermaid - on my left butt-cheek," he said before taking a sip of his
coffee.

   "Bull," I said with an unladylike snort.  "No way do you have a mermaid
on your ass."

   "True enough.  The tattoo is classified, so I have to spread some false
stories to keep my adoring public guessing."

   I shook my head and smiled at him.  "I bet.  Do you keep a club in the
car to drive them back?"

   "Actually, it's a Louisville Slugger.  Works every time."

   We ate slowly and talked about our lives as spoiled rich kids for almost
an hour, though it seemed like only a few minutes.  When I looked at my
watch, I'd been thinking we had plenty of time to keep talking, and I was a
bit shocked to see that the funeral home would open in less than twenty
minutes.  The quick burn of disappointment surprised me, both in its depth
and in the fact that I'd felt it at all.

   I didn't know when I'd ever been so comfortable just sitting and talking
with a man.  I supposed our shared past helped, but he was neither fish nor
fowl.  He wasn't a rich guy that grew up like Rod, or a poor schmuck like
the truckers that shared the diner with us.  He was different from the men
I'd associated with in the past.  He was exotic.

   Part of me wanted to stay right here talking with him.  That made me
feel a bit closer to him than I'd ever felt to anyone outside my clique. 
I'd never been chatty with guys, but I felt a connection with Tony that I'd
never expected.

   Regretfully, I grabbed my purse.  "I've got to go to the funeral home. I
really wish we had more time to talk because it's been fun."

   He pulled out a twenty and tossed it on the table, silencing my
objections.  "If I can't spend my money on breakfast with a friend, then
why have it?  I'm going to go to the viewing and I'll be here for the
funeral, too, so we can talk again.  I'd like that."

   His hand briefly touched mine as he stood up.  An electric tingle
unsettled my stomach.  I reminded myself that I didn't need this kind of
entanglement, that he was just a man and couldn't be trusted, even if part
of me seemed to want to trust him.  Even with everything Gina and Margot
had done to help me, I still couldn't bring myself to trust men.  I could
almost feel Gina frowning at me and sighed.

   "Let's set something up before we leave the viewing then," I said,
making the decision to go with my emotions rather than my brain.

   He smiled as he slid his jacket on.  "I'd like that.  I'll see you
there." I watched Tony's perfect ass walk out the door and sighed.  I
headed for the ladies room.  God willing, I wouldn't catch anything in
there.



   When I arrived at the funeral home, Tony was talking with Daddy.  I
could tell right away that Daddy had no idea who he was, and that he was
getting an abbreviated form of the same introduction I'd gotten.  Melissa
was giving Tony the eye from behind Daddy.  I recognized the look.  While
her behavior didn't surprise me, the sudden spike of jealousy stunned me.

   What the hell was that?  I'd just met the guy, and already I wanted to
club the competition in the head like a baby seal?  Was I seeing her as
competition?  That surprised me even more.  He wasn't mine, and I wasn't
dating him, so that thought had no place in my head.  I forced it back
down, composed my features, and walked up to them.

   "There's no need to stay in a hotel.  We have plenty of room at the
chalet," Daddy said.

   Tony shook his head.  "That's really not necessary, sir.  I don't want
to disturb your family."

   "Absolutely not," Melissa said with a wide smile.  "We wouldn't hear of
it.  You're staying with us, and that's final."

   That last bit was loud enough for Conrad to overhear from his post
beside the coffin, and he hurried up, smoothing a sudden worried look. 
"Hello, I'm Conrad.  What's this about the chalet?"

   "I've decided that Tony should stay with us tonight rather than at a
motel," Daddy said with a smile.  "It makes no sense to see all that space
go to waste."

   From his facial expression, Conrad was looking for a way to back out of
that commitment before it became final.  I was sorry about Tony being
trapped with Melissa, but I wasn't about to let Conrad have his way.

   "Daddy's absolutely right," I agreed, stepping up beside my father.  "We
have six rooms, and the place would just rattle with all of us there alone.
Please Tony, take a spare room.  It's no trouble."

   Melissa shot me a calculating look.  Then she nodded, her brain already
working the angles.  "Yes, Tony.  Please do," Melissa added.  Weren't we a
fine pair of conniving bitches?

   Trapped, Conrad nodded.  "Of course, we'd be happy to have you."

   "Well, since you all insist, I'll do it," Tony said, glancing at Melissa
warily.  Right then I knew that whatever else he might be, he was smarter
than the average bear.

   That thought was so arrogant and presumptuous that I snorted at myself.
That got me a frown from everyone.  I coughed to cover my slip-up.  "Sorry,
my throat's a bit dry."

   Daddy quirked an eyebrow at me and headed for the front door with
Melissa on his arm.  Conrad seized the moment to cut Tony off and start
talking.  Conrad loved to talk, and his favorite subject was himself.

   I looked at the casket and dozens of Mother's family were milling around
her.  I slipped to the side of the room and made my way back to the area
near Mother.  A couple of the older women were looking at her and speaking
in low tones to one another.  Not low enough for me to miss hearing,
unfortunately.

   "It's a terrible shame, her having a daughter like that," one of them
said.  She was some kind of great aunt.  The woman next to her was her
sister.  The matching sour expressions were a good clue about that.  Her
words solidified my anger, gave it focus.

   "Yes," her sister agreed.  "Regan had such potential and was such a
great disappointment to her mother.  She married well enough but her other
habits," she tsked disapprovingly.

   I wondered angrily, which of my failings she meant.  God knows I'd had
enough of them to piss my mother off.

   "I mean, really!  She's one of those drug sniffing hippies," Sister A
chortled.

   I almost laughed.  She thought I was a hippie.  Puh-leeze!

   "And all those rumors about her and..." she looked around and lowered
her voice just a tiny bit.  "And all those women she slept with.  She's not
only a slut but also a lesbian!  Imagine having a pervert for a daughter!"

   A spike of pain shot through my head as my heartbeat thundered in my
ears.  The room turned red.  I shoved the wreath to the side and it fell
with a crash.  The sisters recoiled from me as if I were the Devil herself.

   "She was never ashamed of me!" I snarled.  "You don't know me!  You
don't know a thing about my relationship with my mother!  How dare you?"

   Conrad was there in a flash.  "That is enough!  You've disgraced
yourself and our family," he gloated.  "Get out."

   "You," I said, turning on him, "are full of it, too.  Do you think
marrying into a family makes it yours?  You're even more of an outsider
than I am, you poser.  My mother may have married you, but she at least
loved me."

   He wagged a finger in my face and glared.  "Go call one of your little
dyke friends for a drug party and leave the people that loved your mother
alone to grieve!  You're obviously drugged out or you wouldn't behave like
this in front of your mother."

   No one talked about my friends that way.  No one!

   I leapt at him.

   And someone snatched me out of the air.  I kicked and screamed at Conrad
while my abductor carried me toward the front door over his shoulder.  Like
a sack of potatoes.

   "Let me go!  Let!  Me!  Go!" I said, beating on the leather-clad back.
It was Tony.  Why was he taking me out of here like this when I needed to
shred that bastard Conrad?

   He grabbed my coat off the hook and carried me into the parking lot.  "I
don't think so," he said calmly, setting me down beside Conrad's SUV.  I
started to go around him and go back inside but he blocked me.  "That's
what he wants," he said.  "Can't you see that?  He's baiting you."

   "So what?  I'll give him what he wants and you call the paramedics."

   "Save it," he said, planting an arm in front of me again.  "Save it for
later when they won't find the body."

   I turned my head at the comment.  The innocent grin I saw on his face
broke my fury and I took a deep breath and forced myself to turn away from
him.  I put my clenched fists on the hood in front of me.  The visual of
Conrad beaten to a bloody pulp helped to calm me, oddly enough, and turned
my snarl into a brief smile.  My head was pounding and I quickly lost that
smile as I realized that Tony was right.  I'd fallen right into Conrad's
trap.  He wanted to portray me in the worst light possible in front of as
many people as possible, and I'd stepped right up to the plate when those
women started nattering.  What did I care what they thought anyway? 
Dammit!

   Unwillingly, I nodded.  "You're right.  As much as I hate it," I grated
out.  My hands twitched with adrenaline withdrawal.  "I thought I'd
changed, but underneath I can still see the college girl in me.  I'm sorry.
I shouldn't act without thinking just because it's what my emotions tell me
to do."

   "You don't need to apologize to me.  We need to leave, but we can come
back later when most of the people have left," he said.  His voice was calm
and it didn't sound like an order.  It just sounded reasonable.  That was
strange.  Only the people that knew me best could usually talk me down like
this when I was on a tear.  My mind shied away from how he could do that.

   "I'd rather go back in there and cut off his balls," I muttered.  "If I
could find them."

   "There's always time for that later," he said again, finally touching me
on my shoulder.  I realized that the cold was starting to seep through
without my coat on and his hand felt warm, almost hot against me.  That
sent the last of the anger running away and a jolt of need replaced it; a
need that I couldn't allow myself to act on.  I picked up my coat from
where he'd set it down and slid into it.

   I stepped around to the driver's door, pulling away without seeming as
though it was a slight.  "I have to go somewhere, but where should we go?
What should we do?"

   "Do you know how to ice-skate?"

   I stared at him over the hood in disbelief.  "Ice-skate at a time like
this?"

   He grinned impishly.  "Trust me."

   With a sigh, I gave in and climbed into the SUV.  He wanted to go
ice-skating.  What other unexpected surprises would this man spring on me
next?



   Chapter Three: Blindsided

   I laughed darkly at how impulsive and out of character this was, even
for me.

   Tony looked up from tying on his skates and grinned.  "What?"

   "This," I said, waving my hand at the small crowd of kids and adults
filling the rink.  "What the hell am I doing here?"

   My subconscious supplied its own answer.  My ex-husbands had been right
about one thing regarding me; I was a hedonist.  I had a weakness for doing
things that brought me pleasure, even when it hurt others.  Or me.  I liked
to luxuriate in pleasure and comfort.

   Sex had always been a part of that.  So was the cocaine.  Perhaps
especially the cocaine.  Hard knocks had finally shown me that I had to
have limits in seeking my pleasures, or else risk losing everything
worthwhile in my life.

   "Getting away from Conrad before you do something that you'll regret,"
Tony said, letting the grin slip away.  "You were ready to tear him to
shreds and, however much you might have enjoyed it at the moment, you would
have regretted it later."

   I used anger to cover the shock I felt at hearing him echo my thoughts.
"They can all go screw themselves," I said bitterly.  "If Conrad ever loved
my mother, I never saw it.  All he wants is her money and he'll probably
get it.  The rest of those vultures care more about their gossip.  They've
never cared about me.  I was the 'failure' they all had to put up with."

   Tying off his laces, Tony hobbled over to me and sat down, using his
hand to lift my chin so I was looking directly into his eyes.  "I know all
about being the 'black sheep', remember?  Just ask my Dad." His eyes grew
distant and he smiled.  "Oh, the things I've done to make him pull his hair
out.  I can't imagine a nice girl like you even being in my league."

   I laughed with an abrupt shot of genuine humor and amazement.  I tried
to restrain it, but the laughter took on a life of its own and I couldn't
stop.  I laughed until I couldn't breathe.

   When I finally managed some semblance of control, I saw he was quirking
a smile at me.  I shook my head.  "You have no idea.  Unless you're a lot
wilder than I think you are, I can top your antics on your best day."

   "We'll see.  After we skate a bit, we'll have lunch - on me - and we'll
trade war stories," he said as he stood up, helping me to my feet.  I
prayed that I didn't fall down too often.  It had been twenty-five years
since I'd last been on skates and I didn't want a sore butt.

   Taking advantage of his help, I stumbled onto the ice and clumsily began
to move.  He skated backwards in front of me slowly, as though he were just
out for a stroll.

   "You're doing great," he encouraged.

   "I haven't fallen and been cut to sausage, you mean," I said,
windmilling my arms to keep what little balance I had.  Then an
eight-year-old menace blew past me at warp four, dressed from head to toe
in blinding fuchsia.  At this rate, I'd be lucky to survive.  "Graceful,
I'm not.  How did I let you talk me into this hare-brained idea?"

   "It's my smooth negotiating skills."

   "Hah!  You threw me over your shoulder and carried me off," I objected.
"How smooth is that?"

   "You're here, aren't you?" he asked with another innocent grin. 
"There's an old saying, 'if it works, it ain't stupid.' Following that
logic, I think I was smooth enough."

   It was hard to argue with that.  Screw it.  If I was here, I might as
well have a good time.



   For an hour, Tony taught me how to skate all over again.  At times, he
was so close I could feel the heat of his body as he showed me how to move.
I tried telling myself that it wasn't doing anything to me, but I hadn't
been that good at lying to myself since I was a teen.  It slung-shot my
hormones like a teen-aged boy watching Julie Newmar as Catwoman.

   By the time we were ready to get off the ice, I was exhausted, both
physically and emotionally.  I'd managed to trade my worries about the
funeral for worries about what I was getting myself into with Tony.  Every
touch of his hands and body made the next touch seem less intrusive and
more welcome.  I wondered if that was how one tamed a wild horse.  Did you
touch it until it was used to your hands, caress it until I wanted more? 
It, I told myself, not I.  That was an embarrassing slip to make, even in
my mind.  Caress it until it wanted more.

   I sighed in resignation.  This was getting more complicated and I was
losing control of where it was going.  Already, I felt some kind of
connection between us that was nebulous and hard to describe.  Disturbing,
too, in a way I couldn't quite put my finger on.

   We turned in our skates and walked to the car.  The sky was darker than
it had been earlier and the snow was coming down more heavily.

   Tony took my keys out of my hand and jumped in the driver's seat with a
possessive grin.  I shook my head and smiled, taking the passenger seat. 
When we were secure, he took off in an almost uncontrolled spin.

   I squeaked and grabbed the dashboard, glaring at him.  "Tony!  You stop
that this very second!"

   He laughed but slowed down and brought the SUV under control.  "Yes,
Ma'am."

   "Men!  You're all just little boys under the skin."

   Tony didn't go for the bait and just drove silently until we pulled into
a Pizza Hut.

   As he parked the car, I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.  "Pizza Hut
is your idea of a romantic lunch?"

   He smiled smugly back at me and opened his door.  "I just said lunch. 
Romantic is your add-on.  Thanks for the insight, though.  I promise I'll
start thinking romantically."

   I cursed under my breath as I climbed out and walked slowly to the back
of the vehicle.  Where had that come from?  He was right.  He'd never said
a romantic lunch, but somehow that's what it had morphed to in my mind when
I wasn't thinking about it.  What was I doing to myself this time?

   We shed our coats and hung them when we got inside, then a hostess led
us to a booth.  Shortly, I had a tall glass of iced tea and the promise of
a hot pepperoni pizza to hold my grumbling stomach at bay.

   Tony sat across from me watching me intently, as if he expected me to
say something.  Not having any idea what that might be, I smiled and stared
back at him.  After a minute, it started becoming almost comical.

   I couldn't take it and shook my head.  "We're just being silly," I told
him.  "I think we had a miscue somewhere."

   "Maybe," he agreed.  "I don't believe in rushing things faster than they
need to go, so let's just forget the word romantic, for now."

   I let my breath out in a sigh of relief.  "Thank you.  I'm not ready for
that yet." Yet?  I winced.  What the hell possessed me to add that damned
word?

   Tony's eyes twinkled at me, but he let it go.  "So, we've talked about
our childhood.  What did the next twenty years bring you?"

   I snorted.  "Nothing but trouble.  Two nasty ex-husbands, a lifetime
full of regrets, and a bunch of people I've hurt or disappointed over the
years."

   "Come on," he said, frowning, "it can't have been that bad."

   I laughed dismissively.  "Oh yes it could."

   With little nods and an interested expression, he slowly drew me into
talking about college and leaving Tennessee for UCLA.  Again, I found
myself amazed at the things I told him.  We only barely knew each other and
I was complaining about how like my father my ex- husbands were.  I even
found myself telling him about some of the higher and lower points of my
days in pre-med, including Rod.

   "So, you're a doctor?" he asked.

   I shook my head.  "No.  I didn't really want to be one.  That was for
Daddy." At least that was part of the story.  Having seen a real doctor up
close and personal, I had finally realized that I'd never had the drive to
be one.

   Thankfully, Tony didn't dwell on that.  "This Rod guy sounds like a real
piece of work," he said with a scowl, "though I can't throw stones.  I've
had my share of relationships, but I've never been married.  I think I'm
too ornery for any woman to want," he said with a grin.  "I'm too much of a
pirate."

   That grin did things to my insides that I forced aside.  I firmly
reminded myself that I needed another man in my life like I needed another
hole in my head.

   Using my confused state against me, he kept digging.  "So, with all that
behind you, what do you do to keep busy now?  Did you ever go back and
finish your degree?"

   I ignored the last part of his question and smirked at him.  "Don't I
get to ask questions about your mysterious past?"

   "It's polite to talk about the lady on a date," he said piously.

   "Is this a date?" I asked, my eyebrows rising almost against my will.

   "You're the one who said it was a romantic lunch.  We can quibble about
the details later," he said, his tone falsely dismissive.  "Back to you."

   I shook my head but smiled.  "I do charity work." I proudly launched
into my list of charities I raised money for.

   Tony listened and nodded.  The small frown between his eyes made me
wonder if I'd said something wrong.

   "That's a lot of charity work," he agreed, "but are you satisfied by it?
What you do for yourself?  You know, to feel like you've made a personal
impact."

   I blinked in surprise.  "What?  Of course I'm satisfied with it.  What
gives you the idea I'm not?"

   The arrival of the pizza disrupted my rising anger, and I forced myself
back from letting the emotion overtake me before I could think.

   Once Tony had a few bites inside, leaving a string of cheese on his
chin, he continued.

   "I hear how much money you've raised, but it doesn't seem like you're
getting much personal satisfaction from it.  Don't get me wrong," he added
before I could object.  "Giving money to charities does help people, but
it's not very personal.  That always seemed to me like helping the
hypothetical needy."

   What did that mean?  I let the silence drag on as I thought about it and
ate slowly.  He didn't interrupt me.

   When I kept running into brick walls of incomprehension, I looked back
up and shrugged.  "I must be missing something.  What are you getting at?
I'm satisfied with it." At least the thinking had derailed my initial angry
reaction.

   "Have you ever served food at a soup kitchen or helped a complete
stranger because it made you feel good?"

   I stared at him, confused.  "Why would I do that when I can fund an
entire kitchen?  My money works much harder than I ever could by myself.  I
assure you that I help plenty of needy people."

   Tony shrugged.  "Maybe it's just me.  I like getting my hands dirty. 
Things like the Habitat for Humanity.  They build houses for people that
couldn't afford to build or buy their own.  My personal satisfaction comes
from seeing them come home for the first time.  Nothing beats that feeling.
That lets me use the skills I learned for work to help others."

   I heard what he was saying, but I didn't see how the two were different.
Instead, I changed the subject by zeroing in on his work.  "Speaking of
your work, do you mostly work around here or do you travel?"

   His smile told me that he saw right through my conversational shift, but
he agreeably switched topics.  "I travel every few months; when one project
doesn't need me anymore, I go to one that does.  Not just in this state,
but all over the general area."

   "You said you'd never married, but what about other long-term
relationships?" I asked.  A part of me wasn't sure what I wanted to hear
him say.

   "Some," he admitted.  "They never lasted, though.  We just never seemed
to mesh."

   "I'm sure that one day you'll find the right woman."

   He nodded, his eyes dark and expressive.  "I think you're right.  Timing
is everything."

   I felt a shiver of something I didn't understand shoot through me and I
hurriedly looked at my watch.  "Just look at the time!  We need to get a
move on." His expression told me I wasn't fooling anyone, but in truth, it
was already late in the afternoon and I needed to get back to the funeral
home.

   While he paid for lunch, I went to the ladies room and scrubbed my hands
across my face.  What was wrong with me?  Maybe I should just give in and
have a fling with him, because this itch was getting very distracting. 
Stubbornly, I shook my head at my reflection in the mirror.  I didn't do
casual.  When the little devil's voice told me that I should be thinking
about making it more than casual, I covered my eyes and groaned.  I didn't
need this!

   I washed my hands and composed myself.  As I came out, the woman sitting
next to the bathroom made me stop in my tracks.  Or rather, what she was
saying into the pay phone made me stop.  She was younger than me and very,
very pregnant.  She was also slumped over the table with her face buried in
one hand.

   "I don't know what to do, Mom," she said, dispiritedly.  "He took
everything.  He quit his job and just took off with everything.  No one
knows where he went." Then her voice took on a bitter tone.  "What everyone
knows is who he ran off with.  Why couldn't they have bothered to tell me
before he left me like this?"

   Smothering a dark and knowing smile, I slipped back into the bathroom. I
listened to her through the barely open door.  I could have told her some
places to call to get help, but she seemed too proud to take advantage of
them.  Her pain bothered me.  I didn't want to leave her in despair.

   "I know you can't help me very much," she continued, "but can you wire
me just a little?  Fifty dollars?  Oh, thank you!" She sounded almost
pathetically grateful.  "I'll pay you back as soon as I can.  I've got a
week before the landlord comes looking for the rent and that`ll buy me food
and give me some gas money so I can find a job."

   I blanched.  Dear God, she didn't need to be working.  She looked like
she was due any day.  She needed to be off her feet.

   "No," the woman said with a little heat.  "I can't come home.  I love
you but he's still there.  I can't live with him.  I just can't.  I'd
rather starve.  Please try to understand."

   What about her baby?  Her next comment told me that I wasn't the only
one asking that question.

   "I don't have much of a choice, do I?" she said bitterly.  "As soon as
he's born I'll take him to the fire station or give him up for adoption.  I
don't want to, but I can't afford to keep him.  He deserves better than
me," she said, almost in tears.

   My heart ached.  I wanted to help her, but she sounded as stubborn as
me. I'd never had a baby and I doubted I ever would, but her plight still
struck a chord in me.  I thought furiously.  What could I do?

   "Yes," she continued.  "Please wire it to me at the Western Union office
down on Main Street.  And if you're going to send him to do it, could you
make sure he at least spells my name right?" She spelled out Williamson. 
"At least he remembered Joan last time," she said tiredly.  Then she slowly
recited her address.  I repeated it silently several times while I set my
purse on the counter and dug through it looking for something to write on.
The first thing I found was the card Tony had given me with his number. 
That was ironic.

   I counted out what I had in cash and it totaled out to almost four
hundred dollars.  Not very much, but I mostly paid for stuff with my card.
It would just have to do.

   Now I just had to figure out how to give it to her without her being
able to turn me down.  I folded the bills up and walked out of the
bathroom. She was listening to her mother and still had her face buried in
her hand, her elbow propped up on the table.  Her purse was beside her
elbow.  I could see her open change purse inside it.  She was probably
using the change for the call.  I deftly dropped the bills into her purse
and walked out.

   Tony had the SUV idling by the curb.  I climbed in feeling light inside.
I grinned at him.  Who said I didn't know how to get personal satisfaction?



   Everyone had deserted the funeral home by the time we arrived.  All the
family was gone, even Conrad.  That made me boil inside.  How dare they
just leave her like this?

   I went to stand beside my mother.  Looking down at her, I realized how
badly having them leave her here alone hurt me.  After tomorrow I'd never
see her again.  That brought on a fresh onslaught of tears.

   I'm not sure how long I stood there holding her hand, feeling like every
tear that fell made me somehow emptier inside, when I felt someone beside
me.  I looked up, ready to chew off Conrad's head for bothering me again,
if he'd had the balls to come back, and only barely cut off my attack when
I saw it was Tony.

   "Regan, the viewing is over and it's time to leave," he said gently. 
Were construction workers supposed to be gentle?  They should be tough and
decisive, sure, but gentle?

   "I'm not going," I said with a willful toss of my head.  "I'm staying
here with Mother."

   I expected a condescending smile, but he didn't smile at all, he just
nodded.  "I know, but you can't.  We have to go."

   "She's my mother and I won't leave her," I shouted, abruptly angry with
him.  "I won't!  She needs me here!" I waited for him to either walk away
or counter-attack, perversely glad for the outlet for my pain.

   Following his developing pattern of behavior, he did neither of those
things.  He instead reached out, pulled me into his arms and held me
tightly.

   My body stiffened in shock and tried to shove him away but he was too
strong.  "Let me go!" I wailed.  "Just leave me alone!"

   "No."

   As quickly as it arrived, the anger fled my body.  I felt grief for my
loss and a deep and abiding fear of never seeing my mother again flood
through me.  "I don't want her to go," I cried, suddenly clutching him. 
"Please, don't let her go."

   "I know you don't," he whispered, "but she's already gone."

   I sobbed and half-broke away from him and started pounding my fists on
his chest.  "Liar!  She's right here!"

   He didn't resist my attack, but it was like hitting a brick wall, except
I had a better chance of knocking down the wall.  When the tears pushed the
anger away, he pulled me back into his arms and this time I didn't resist.
"It hurts, I know," he whispered.  "But she's already gone to a better
place; a happier place."

   "But I don't want her to go!"

   He turned me away from the casket and pulled me along toward the door
while I cried and railed against him.  By the time he put my coat on me,
all the fight had gone out of my body.  I just stood there and let him slip
it on and lead me out to his Land Rover.  I didn't even object when he
strapped me in like a child.

   Tony belted himself in and took the Rover out to the street, leaving
Conrad's SUV behind.  "Left or right?" he prompted.

   When I looked outside, snow was falling heavily and the wind had picked
up.  I took a deep breath and pulled myself together enough to give him
directions out of town and up the mountain.

   He didn't try to talk to me on the drive, other than occasionally to
prompt me for directions.  I didn't understand, but I was grateful. 
Weren't men supposed to try to fix everything?  Not all of them,
apparently. At least one could listen without judging.  I felt wrung out.
I'd lost both my control and composure again, and I was glad that Conrad
and Daddy hadn't seen me.  I couldn't do anything right, it seemed.

   The interior of the Rover finally sank into my awareness.  Tony had
packed it with tools and the Rover smelled like...  like him, I realized.
It didn't smell bad, just male.  I rolled my eyes and laughed inside at
myself.  This was just perfect.  I really didn't have the time or emotional
energy for this.

   Tony glanced at me and smiled before returning his eyes to the road in
silence, giving me time to get myself back under control.



   By the time we pulled up in front of the chalet, I'd regained enough of
my composure to get out of the Rover and wait for Tony to meet me by the
door.  He had his overnight bag in hand when he joined me.

   "I'm sorry," I said quietly.

   He made a throwaway gesture.  "You've done nothing to be sorry about, so
don't worry about it."

   I smiled and nodded gratefully.  "Come on inside and let's get you
settled." I led the way, saw to taking off our shoes and coats, and gave
him the same short tour that I'd given Melissa yesterday.

   "This is a nice place," he said, looking at the ceiling.  "Really well
put together."

   I stared at the ceiling and it looked like...  a ceiling.  Leave it to
Tony to ignore the decorations and go right to the structure around us.  "I
should just start calling you Bob Villa."

   He laughed.  "I can't help it."

   With an amused shake of my head, I took him into Conrad's hall and found
him an empty room, pointing out everything he needed to know then excusing
myself.

   I left him to put his things away and went to the bar.  From the quiet,
it was obvious that neither Conrad nor Daddy and company were here, so I
figured I might as well settle in and get ready for them.  Times like these
made me wish I'd never given up using coke, as much pain and loss as the
stuff had caused.  I felt the siren's call of the little vial in my room,
and it seemed like a really good idea right now.  Rod was right, I thought
morosely, I couldn't deal with this on my own.

   I poured myself a stiff drink and downed it quickly, then refilled the
glass.  I preferred a good wine over liquor but right now I needed
something more.  The burn settled quickly in my stomach and I started to
relax.  I opened the glass doors and stepped out onto the snow-packed deck,
taking the bottle with me.  The cold burned into me, but I ignored it.  I
left the lights off and silently closed the door behind me.

   The hot tub dominated the deck.  I longed to just climb in and soak.

   Stepping out to the exterior rail, my bare feet crunched in the snow.  I
stared into the darkness and just let the cold numb my feet.  Sipping my
drink, I cleared a spot on the rail and set the bottle down.  It seemed
impossible, but the snow was falling even harder now.

   Even though I could only see the tops of some of the closest trees, they
were right at the level of the deck.  The ground behind the chalet sloped
down steeply for a good ways.

   I felt the heat leaching from me and refilled my glass.  I knew I should
go back inside, but the part of me that didn't care seemed to be in control
of my muscles and I stayed there shivering in the snow.  Setting my glass
down beside the bottle, I cleared a wider area of the rail and climbed up
to sit on it, with my legs dangling into the darkness below.

   Here, I was alone.  Not that I'd been any other way for very long.  I
emptied my glass and tried to refill it, but my numb fingers couldn't hold
the glass and it dropped into the abyss in front of me.  It was gone, as if
it had never been.

   Staring down, I felt a moment of vertigo and gripped the rail below me.
I marveled at how easy that had been.  One moment and the glass was gone.
It was probably tumbling down the steep slope, unless it had smashed into a
tree.  I wondered if that would hurt much.  Or for long.

   My dark ruminations stopped when the door to the house opened behind me.
"Regan?" Tony asked.

   I thought about just pushing off.  A few seconds and it would be over.
They could bury me with my mother and no one would care, except for my
friends.

   Thinking of Gina, I rejected the thought of jumping and cursed my lack
of resolve as he walked up behind me.

   "It looks like a long way down."

   "It is," I assured him.

   "Then let me help you back onto the deck.  I don't want you to fall." He
took the bottle from my hand and set it on the rail, pulling me back onto
the deck with absolutely no effort.  Standing me up in front of him, he
eyed me critically.  "And it's too cold out here for you to be out without
a jacket or shoes.  Come inside and we'll sit in front of the fireplace."

   "I don't want to go in," I said petulantly.  "I want to stay out here."

   "If we stay out here, we need to be warmer," he said reasonably.  "Let's
step inside and get our coats and shoes."

   So, he didn't trust me alone out here.  He must have sensed something in
my voice.  This man was far more perceptive than I cared for right now.

   "Let's get in the hot tub," I countered.  "It's hot enough to keep us
warm." I pulled the cover off the tub.  What was I doing?

   I saw him grin in the darkness.  "For some reason, I didn't think to
bring my swimsuit with me."

   I grinned back challengingly.  "I didn't either.  Come on, I promise
your virtue is safe with me." Had I lost my mind?  Getting naked in a hot
tub with a man was just begging to be screwed silly, and I didn't really
know him at all.  It would never work.  Still, part of me whispered that
getting screwed silly had its upsides.

   "Regan, you've been drinking and you might regret..."

   I cut him off with a laugh, pulling my blouse over my head and tossing
it to the side.  "I've done so many things over the years that I regret
that one more will hardly matter.  I'm getting in the tub and you can
either join me or go back inside."

   He watched me strip and drop my clothes on the deck.  I could see the
interest in his face even in the dark.  He wasn't superman or gay.  That
was a relief.  I grabbed the bottle from the rail and set it on the side of
the tub before stepping in.  The hot water felt scalding before my body
adjusted to the radical change in temperature.  I settled into the water
and let it flow up to my neck.

   With a shrug, Tony disrobed with economical movements and stepped into
the tub.  His torso rippled with muscle and that kicked my hormones into a
higher gear.  Or maybe it was his erection.  It bobbed as he settled into
the water.  Definitely not gay, though he sat almost out of reach.

   I took a slug of liquor straight from the bottle and handed it over to
him.  He took a drink and set it beside him.

   "I think you're being too hard on yourself, but tonight isn't the right
time to talk about this," he said, handing the bottle back over to me. 
"It's never too late to start again.  Who hasn't done something we'd do
differently now?  You can't change the past, but you can decide to live the
rest of our lives differently.  Break the cycle."

   "That's easy to say," I snorted.

   Tony nodded.  "And it's the hardest thing in the world to do.  It means
knowing who we want to be and intentionally making that leap of faith to
leave the old us behind forever."

   I sat quietly - mulling the magnitude of what he'd said - until he
changed the subject to trivial, more mundane things.  I gratefully entered
into discussing what we liked and what we hated.  We talked about food,
wine and movies.  We passed the bottle back and forth companionably. 
Inside five minutes, a comfortable sense of familiarity had replaced the
tension.  The more I relaxed, the more a sense of something being starkly
wrong nagged at the back of my mind.

   It took me almost an hour to figure out what was really bothering me. 
When I finally pinned it down, I was shocked to my toes.  Over the years
I'd felt a deep sense of attachment to only a very few, select people. 
These people had become my closest and dearest friends, and it had happened
in a matter of hours or days each time.  We'd sit and talk and then,
suddenly, it was as if we'd known each other all our lives.  In each case
we'd become lovers as well, usually soon after that.

   The thing was that every one of these people who had become first
friends and then lovers were women.  Until now, I reluctantly admitted to
myself.  This is what had been nagging at me since I'd met him, but I
hadn't been able to see the danger.  This was really bad.  How could this
have happened?  I was in my mid-thirties and had never felt this way
towards a man, ever.  Not even the ones I'd married.  I'd long ago decided
that while I was bisexual, I leaned more towards women.  What the devil was
wrong with me?  It couldn't be the booze.  I'd been as drunk and high on
coke countless times.  This had never happened before.  Now that it had, I
had no idea what it meant or what to do about it.

   "Is something wrong?" Tony asked.  He set the empty bottle outside the
tub and stretched his back, causing his chest to ripple.  My body reacted
in a way that it shouldn't.  Heat flashed back through me, and I wanted him
right here and now.

   Even in the hot water, a chill ran up my spine.  I didn't understand
what was happening and I needed space.  Gathering what dignity I could
muster, I stood up and let the water sluice off me.  I was a little
unsteady but a hand on the side of the tub served to let me regain my
balance.  Tony looked at me, and I could see the desire in his eyes.

   With more strength than I thought I had, I stepped out of the hot tub
and started gathering my clothes.  "I'm going in and showering." That
sounded abrupt and I heard a quiver in my voice that wasn't there very
often.  Whatever faults I had, lack of self- assurance wasn't usually one
of them.

   Tony hid the flash of disappointment well.  If I hadn't been looking
right at him, I would have missed it as he transitioned to a thoughtful nod
and masked his initial reaction.  I didn't think he was angry, though, like
Rod would have been.  He was just disappointed.  He rose from the tub,
grabbed his own clothes, and followed me in.  "Good idea.  We were going to
wrinkle soon."

   We went our separate ways and I left my clothes in my room before
getting into the shower.  I let the hot water run for a few minutes to
scrub myself clean and then turned it cold.  The icy water shocked my body,
and I hoped it would shock some sense into me and quench these feelings.  I
didn't have any business feeling like this toward a man.

   After I toweled off, I slipped on my robe and made my way back to my
room to dress.  I was surprised find Tony sitting on the edge of the bed. I
was instantly unsure of myself.  Was this the play for me that I hadn't
thought was coming?  He was fully dressed, so that didn't seem likely, but
he was a man, after all.

   "Your door was open, so I thought I'd just wait for you here.  That's a
nice piece of art," he said with a nod to the small painting on the wall.
It was of a skier taking a slope with a spray of snow rooster-tailing
behind her.  "Is that you?"

   I smiled but shook my head.  "No, it's not me.  I just saw it in an
online auction and picked it up.  I don't know him, but the artist does
good work.  Remember him if you need something.  His name is Keven Braddock
and he's in LA." I hesitated in stripping off the robe to dress but decided
that was kind of idiotic after I'd flaunted my body in front of him
already.

   I tossed the robe onto the bed and started dressing in something casual.
I could feel his eyes caressing me and cursed the flutter in my stomach. 
He didn't get up and try anything or make any comments.  Maybe he wasn't
going to try something after all.

   He waited for me to dress and then he pointed to the dresser.  "Mind if
I ask what that is?"

   It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about, and then I
flushed.  I casually put the vial into my pants pocket while I struggled
for some reasonable explanation.  Then I sighed, damning the feeling of
guilt that caused me.  I wouldn't lie to a friend like that and this was
something that could ruin our budding friendship.  Well, maybe it was all
for the good if it did.  That would at least get me out of the
uncomfortable mental place where I'd cornered myself.

   "It's coke." There.  There it was.  I'd done it, now to see where all
the pieces landed now that I'd blown everything up.  I watched him with
what calm I could muster.

   His face expressionless, he nodded.  "I thought it might be.  I heard
people talking at the viewing, and one of them mentioned you'd had a drug
problem, but he thought you'd kicked it."

   The unasked question hung in the air.  Was he wrong?  I shook my head.
"I went through rehab.  I don't feel like talking about it, but I haven't
relapsed for almost five years."

   "Then why relapse now?  Is it because of your mom?"

   I shrugged and inexplicably felt tired.  Pulling the plain wooden chair
over, I sat down in front of Tony.  "It's hard to explain.  I haven't
relapsed yet.  Or I'm in the process of relapsing.  Or I've relapsed but
just haven't taken a snort yet." I had to admit to myself that when I
hadn't said no, that I'd said yes.  I just hadn't gotten up the nerve to
snort it yet.  That bastard Rod.

   "But you want to?" Tony asked quietly.

   I nodded slowly.  "I'm tired of being down all the time," I said, the
tears starting slowly down my face.  "I can't handle this."

   Tony took my hands in his.  "I assume you quit for a reason the last
time.  Probably because it was messing up your life.  Right?"

   I laughed mirthlessly.  "You say that as if you haven't heard all the
rumors.  I swear, I hate having relatives."

   He shot a lopsided smile at me.  "I try not to hold past bad behavior
against anyone.  Glass houses and wrecking balls, you understand.  I won't
say something stupid like 'it doesn't matter' but in truth, it's not
relevant.  I've only known you a little while but I can see something
worthwhile inside you.  Something honorable."

   I snorted and shook my head.  "You don't have my reputation."

   "No, I have my own," he admitted.  "But that isn't what I'm getting at.
Let me put it this way.  Paraphrasing Lois McMaster Bujold, a science
fiction author, reputation is what other people know about you.  Honor is
what you know about yourself.  Our stress about it happens when the two
aren't the same.  Be true to yourself and to hell with what everyone else
thinks."

   He smiled at my startled expression.  "Look, the past is just that: the
past.  It's the road we walked to get where we are, not who we are.  If you
don't like where you are in life all you have to do to change is walk away.
As hard as that can be sometimes." He pointed to my pocket.  "The question
I will ask is: will that help you a week from now or hurt you?"

   Bowing my head, I swallowed.  "When I'm high, I don't feel bad, but it
takes over my life.  I'd have to say that coke helped push college and my
first marriage to slow destruction.  It took me falling apart, and a good
friend intervening, to force me to get help.  Gina kept at me until I
couldn't deny it anymore.  Then she stood by me and watched me like a hawk
for months."

   "That's a real friend," he agreed.  "I'm surprised she isn't here now."

   "I wish she were," I sighed, looking back into his compassionate eyes.
"She's out of the country."

   "If you haven't relapsed in five years, where did you get the coke?  In
town?"

   "No.  Rod gave it to me."

   "Rod?" he asked with a frown.  "Your ex-boyfriend?  He lives here?"

   "God, no," I said with some heat.  "He flew in for the funeral.  He's
staying in the room next to mine."

   Tony's eyes hardened.  "He came in and just dangles that in front of you
at a time like this?"

   I shrugged.  "Yeah."

   With a visible effort, he brought himself back under control.  "I don't
think you should give up.  That's what giving in would be.  I don't think
you're a quitter, Regan.  Since your friend isn't here, let me step into
her shoes." His eyes bored into mine.  "You don't need that crutch.  I'm
here for you and I'll stay right here as long as you need me.  That's going
to tempt you every minute you keep it.  Dump it.  If you can't do that just
for yourself, do it for your friend Gina, and for me.  Please."

   Indecision tore at me.

   Finally, I nodded and dug the vial out of my pocket and tossed it onto
the bed beside him.  "You're right.  Get rid of it."

   When he shook his head, I stared in surprise and incomprehension.  He
picked up the vial and held it out.  "You need to get rid of it, I think.
Don't let someone else do it for you."

   I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or get angry.  "Why?"

   "Because if you pass it off to me that's passing off the responsibility
for your life to me.  I want you to dump it.  Take responsibility for your
own life."

   Taking the vial in my hand, I stood up on unsteady feet.  Tony rose with
me and followed me into the bathroom where I unscrewed the cap and tried to
force my hand to dump it into the toilet.  After a moment where I thought I
wasn't going to be able to do it, I convulsively dumped it into the water.

   "Flush it," he quietly commanded.

   With the plunge of the handle, the coke was gone.  Numbly I screwed the
lid back on the empty vial and clutched it in my hand.  Tony pulled me into
his arms and held me as I started to weep softy.

   "It's going to be okay," he whispered.  When the tears finally slowed
and my nose completely stuffed up, he walked me back to my room.  He pried
the empty vial from my hand and set it on the dresser before finding me
some tissues.

   In companionable silence, he let me dry my tears and regain my
composure. I knew he wanted to talk some more, but he didn't rush me.  I
appreciated that.

   The slam of the front door interrupted any further opportunity to talk.
I jumped a little, looked at the open door to my bedroom and listened to
see who was home.  When I didn't hear any voices, I stood up and debated
closing the door.  I froze in my tracks when Rod appeared at the door and
just sauntered in.

   "Hey, Babe, I..." he drew up short when he saw Tony standing by the bed.
"Who are you?" he demanded.

   Tony didn't say anything, but his body language was crystal clear.  Gone
was the gentle man who had helped me get a grip on my life, and in his
place stood an angry man.  A dangerous man.  His eyes, so soft toward me,
were now chips of flint ready to spark a fire.  I decided I had to act now
before he did something I wouldn't regret.

   "His name is Tony," I said with a cold toss of my head.  I stood up and
pointed to the door.  "But I don't recall inviting you in, Rod, so hit the
road."

   Still glaring at Tony, Rod's eyes flicked around the room and I saw the
hidden gleam when he saw the empty vial.  His expression made me look down
in shame that I'd almost succumbed to it and to him.  "I just came in to
talk about the weather, babe.  No need to get all huffy.  The snow has been
falling non-stop."

   Tony stepped in front of me.

   "She said to go," he said flatly.  "You can either go on your own or
I'll toss your sorry ass out."

   "I can handle him, Tony," I said as I gathered my anger.  "We're done,
Rod.  Get out." My stuffed nose ruined my imperious tone.

   He smiled knowingly at me and sauntered out the door, laughing.  "You
know where to find me if you want to talk about the weather."

   Tony closed the door behind him and locked it.  Then he took me into his
arms.  "I should've beat the shit out if him."

   I smiled.  "That'd be a really bad idea," I said.  "Daddy likes him.  I
think Rod is the son he never had.  I have to live under the same roof as
him."

   "No, you don't," he said softly.  "Come away with me."

   My head came up and I searched his face, trying to decide what he meant
by that.  Part of me struggled to shake my head and refuse, but another
part of me was stronger and melted into his arms and I nodded.  "Where will
we go?"

   His hand tilted my face to look directly into my eyes.  "I still have
the room I booked for tonight and tomorrow.  We can share it." He must have
seen the struggle in my heart because he covered my lips with his fingers.
"No obligations.  I promise that I'll be a gentleman."

   A growing part of me didn't want him to be a gentleman, but I was
grateful not to have to make a decision right now while I was upset. 
"Okay. Let me pack a bag."

   "I'll be back in a minute after I grab my stuff.  Don't open the door
unless you hear me outside." For a second I thought he was going to kiss
me, and I trembled, but he let me go.

   After he left, I locked the door and started packing.  I debated what to
take and decided just to take what I needed for a few days.  Screw the
rest. My motions were wooden at first, but as I packed I gained resolution,
and my actions became faster and firmer.

   I was still gathering my makeup when I heard a knock at the door.  I
dropped my bag, and my heart suddenly pounded.

   "Regan," Tony called through the door, "open up."

   I unlocked the door and stared at him accusingly.  "You scared the hell
out of me!"

   He laughed.  "Sorry.  Are you ready?"

   "Give me a second." I picked my bag back up, swept my makeup inside, and
zipped it.  "Now I am."

   He didn't waste time asking me if I was sure.  Good.  When he started
out, I followed him.  The great room showed no sign of Rod, so either he'd
left again or was in his room.  Even better.  I briefly wondered where
everyone else was as we put on our outerwear.  Then I decided I really
didn't care.

   The only cars outside were Tony's Land Rover and a rental Mercedes I
assumed was Rod's.  There was still no sign of Conrad or Daddy.  Excellent.



   A few false turns and half an hour later, we were at the Doubletree.  I
looked over the lounge.  It wasn't the Waldorf, but it would do.  I
followed him to the room when he was done and it looked adequate, if small.
It would be fine for sleeping.  Then it hit me.  The room was a single.  I
turned to look at Tony with a quirked eyebrow.

   He shrugged and set his bag on the floor.  "I expected to be alone when
I reserved it.  Don't worry; I'll sleep in the chair." He gestured at the
uncomfortable-looking padded chair in the corner.

   "If you say you'll behave, I believe you," I said with a shake of my
head, setting my bag on the low-slung dresser.  "The bed is big enough for
both of us to sleep without trouble."

   "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable," he said quietly, opening
the bag and moving his clothes and gear into one side of the dresser.

   "That's sweet, but I won't.  If I do, believe me, you'll know it." I
unpacked and loaded my half of the dresser with clothes.

   After we'd hung up the clothes that needed hanging and put our
toiletries into the bathroom, I sat on the bed and wondered where this
unexpected relationship was going.  Then I shook my head.  No, there was no
relationship.  None.

   "Hungry?" Tony asked.  "We can order room service."

   "Not really," I said, "but don't let me stop you if you are.  I'm all
worn out."

   "Then let's just get some sleep," he suggested.  "I'll ask for a wakeup
call while you get ready for bed."

   I brushed my teeth and weighed my options.  Part of me still wanted to
go back into the bedroom and slake the growing lust I was feeling.  If it
had been a woman instead of Tony, I would have indulged, but I still felt
held back.  Staring at myself in the mirror, I shook my head.  If I gave in
to my desire, it would be for more than a piece of ass, and I still
couldn't believe I felt this intensity in such a short time.  I needed to
sleep on it.

   When I was done, I let him have the bathroom and pulled out a long tee
shirt to wear over my panties.  I turned off all the lights except for the
lamp by my side of the bed.  I settled in between the sheets and listened
to him brush his teeth.  This domestication came from out of nowhere and
made me feel something I hadn't felt in a long time.  Lonely.  I sternly
pushed back the feelings of warmth that his ordinary preparations for bed
had raised.  How had he managed to get through all my defenses with such
ease?

   I was still stewing in that hot soup of emotion when Tony came out of
the bathroom in a pair of tight briefs and an undershirt.  Somehow, the
sight of him like that was much more erotic than seeing him naked.  I
smiled and patted the bed beside me without a word.

   When he was under the covers, I looked into his eyes and slowly leaned
forward until our lips touched, and I kissed him softly for a moment.  If
he'd have kissed me back and wanted more, I would've given myself to him,
but he let me pull back without acting on the arousal I could see in his
eyes.

   "Thank you," I whispered and turned out the light.

   The warmth of his body next to mine relaxed me in a way that I never
would've imagined, though it also kept me awake long past the start of his
soft snores, thinking - debating with myself.  A smile crept across my
face.

   I was thinking about him and wondering exactly what I had thanked him
for when sleep took me.



   Chapter Four: A leap of faith

   I woke up slowly, luxuriating in comfortable warmth.  Then I realized I
was half-sprawled across someone.  A man - Tony - my suddenly awake brain
informed me.  His scent filled my senses with my face buried in his hair,
my lips brushing his neck.

   The rest of my body began reporting in and the news went downhill from
there.  My thigh was resting on an obviously aroused cock and his arm was
between us, cupping one of my breasts through my tee shirt.  Unconsciously
I began gently moving myself against him.  Then my forebrain caught up with
my hindbrain and froze my hips.  This was not what I wanted.

   Liar.

   I lifted my head a little to look at his sleeping face.  I wanted to
kiss those soft lips again and I couldn't keep fooling myself about not
wanting him.  Now, with that out of the way, I just needed to decide if I
would give in to my desires or not.

   I was still wrestling with myself when the phone rang.  Tony's eyes
popped open and we stared at each other from a few inches away.  I could
see his eyes flicker with surprise at the sudden realization that I was
lying mostly on top of him.  Then the alarm as he realized that he had a
nice morning erection rubbing my inner thigh and my breast in his hand.  I
felt my nipple stiffen against his palm through the cloth of my tee shirt.

   The phone rang a few more times while he got his brain in gear, pulled
his hand away from my breast, and answered the phone.  A murmur told me it
was our wakeup call.  When he hung up, I started to swoop in to take a kiss
but he beat me to it, kissing me softly and pulling back from me.

   "Sorry," he said, rearranging his briefs as he stood up.  "I didn't
intend to grope you." He looked embarrassed and I realized that he took his
promise to behave very seriously.

   "We were asleep.  You didn't do anything I'm objecting to," I said
softly.  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "Tony, I want you. 
And that scares me."

   The spark in his eyes was impossible to miss.  "Don't be scared.  The
feeling's mutual.  However," he said regretfully as he climbed out of bed,
"we have to get a move on or we'll be late."

   With a nod, I slipped out of bed.  "Do you want to shower first?"

   "We could shower together," he suggested softly, pulling me closer with
a hand on my hip.

   "Not and get to the funeral home on time," I said, regretfully.  "Go
shower."

   I brushed my teeth and sat on the toilet listening to him shower while
pummeling my brain on how to proceed.  The speed and force of my emotions
were making me feel out of control again.  I probably shouldn't have told
him that I wanted him.  That gave him power over me and I didn't know if
any man could be trusted with that kind of control.

   Tony turned off the shower and climbed out with water streaming down his
body.  His wet hair clung to his neck and shoulders and he looked like some
kind of Greek god.  The Regan of twenty years ago would have thrown him
against the wall - at least she would have if he had been a woman - funeral
service be damned.  But I'd learned to restrain myself.  Most of the time.
Restraint still didn't stop the wave of lust that rolled up my body and lit
me on fire, though.

   Pulling my eyes from Tony, I stepped into the shower.  The ritual of
washing myself brought me some control and I felt much better by the time I
climbed out and dried off.

   Tony was putting his tie on when I came in and laid out the dress I'd
picked for the funeral.  I sat down and reached for my makeup, but stopped
when I saw how badly my hand was trembling.  If I tried to apply makeup
while I was shaking like this I'd look like an extra from a slasher movie.
I couldn't look like that in front of Mother.  I couldn't disappoint Daddy.

   Tony put his hands on my trembling shoulders.  "You can do this," he
said.  "Take one step at a time and put one foot in front of the other."

   I smiled wanly and nodded.  "It's going to be the hardest thing I've
done in a long time, but with you behind me I might live through it."

   He kissed my cheek and backed off.  "Get dressed and we'll go.  Are you
hungry?" I shook my head and slipped into a fresh bra and panties.  "Not
really."

   He left me in silence to apply my makeup and dress.  The familiar
rituals calmed me and I felt almost human when we walked out to the car.



   Mourners packed the funeral home.  The service didn't start for half an
hour, but now we had local notables and family friends to add to the
volatile mix of relatives and me.  I probably should've been here earlier.
I'd no doubt hear all about my failings before the service ever got
underway.  At least after the funeral, I would only have to deal with
Conrad for one more day.  Once the lawyer read the will, I could be on my
way back to LA.  I glanced at Tony and realized that I might not be heading
to LA just yet, but I'd still be away from family.

   Conrad was waiting for me.  Someone must have tipped him off that I was
here, and he was ready to plaster me before I even had a chance to catch my
bearings.

   "It's about time you decided to show up," he said, staring down his
nose. "You should have been here over an hour ago to meet the family.  And
where's my SUV?"

   I didn't even slow down and he had to leap aside to avoid me bouncing
him into the wall.  "Yesterday you told me to be less involved.  Really,
Conrad, for once in your life, show some spine and make a decision.  Which
is it?  You've been hogging the limelight and I'm happy to let you have it.
Choke on it.  As far as the SUV, I left your stupid toy here in the parking
lot."

   The expression on Conrad's face left no doubt I'd confused him, so he
switched tactics.  "I don't want him here," Conrad said, sliding back in
front of me and walking backwards.  "He threatened one of my guests, and he
has no business here while I'm burying my wife.  He goes.  And you're lying
because my SUV certainly isn't in the parking lot."

   I stopped and made him walk back to me when he didn't stop when I did.
"Well then, we're even; I don't want you here, either," I assured him. 
"Once again, you think you're in control of me and my friends.  Disabuse
yourself of that idea right now.  I do as I damned well please; and no one
tells one of my friends that they have to leave my mother's funeral." I
stepped up into Conrad's face and forced him back a step.  Inside, a quiet
part of me marveled at my reaction.  Margot called me "the bulldog" when
one of my friends was threatened.  Again, it illustrated to me how Tony
defied all my expectations and fit into my life anyway.

   Thinking of Tony, I lowered my voice so as not to give Conrad another
scene.  "Rod was being an ass and deserved to be thrown out of my room," I
continued without pause.  "And if you don't want to be thrown into a
hearse, you'd better get out of my way.  If I make a stink and someone
calls the police, I may not get my way, but I will guarantee you a
three-ring circus that'll make you wish you'd never been born.  As for your
SUV, maybe it was towed, or better yet, stolen.  I say 'good for the
crooks' though it can't be worth much, as cheap as you are."

   His face paled as he snarled and dithered.

   Before I could see if he had a pair or not, Daddy stepped into the hall
with Melissa beside him.  Daddy was frowning like a thunderhead, and
Melissa was shooting cold daggers at me with her eyes.  I guess she'd hoped
for a late-night meeting with Tony.  She was ambitious; I had to give her
that.

   "Young lady, I am shocked at your behavior," Daddy growled.  "I don't
know what you're thinking, but threatening a guest of mine is inexcusable.
So is running off to have an all- night orgy with a man you just met the
night before your mother's funeral." He shifted his gaze to Tony.  "I
shouldn't have expected any better from the likes of you.  Leave.  You're
not wanted here."

   Tony didn't seem at all bothered by Daddy's disapproval.  Or Conrad's.
He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

   I shook my head.  "He stays.  Whether or not I slept with him is my
business, Daddy.  I don't tell you or your wife who you can or can't sleep
with, so I'd appreciate the same courtesy.  What happens in Vermont stays
in Vermont, you know, unless the two of you would like to change the
rules?"

   Melissa flushed and her cold eyes heated with rage.

   Daddy's expression didn't change.  "Don't try to change the subject. 
We're speaking about you and your unacceptable behavior."

   He didn't seem surprised when I said Melissa cheated.  Interesting, but
irrelevant.

   I smiled sweetly.  "But Daddy, I'm just being a good little daughter and
following in your footsteps.  All I've ever wanted was to be like you.  If
you don't want your philandering or your wife's sleeping with people like
Rod to be brought up, then leave my sex life out of this."

   "I don't sleep around, and neither does Melissa," he said in an almost
apoplectic rage.

   His denial about his own behavior fell flat for anyone who knew him.  As
for Melissa, who knew what he believed?  A better question was who cared?

   "You've pushed me as far as I'm willing to go." He leaned in and I had
to force myself to stand my ground.  "That trust fund of yours and the
settlements from those men you used and dumped might keep you in a
comfortable house, but I know you want more.  You want to be rich.  I know
your mother left everything to Conrad.  If you continue to humiliate me
this way, I'll cut you out of my will, too." His voice dropped to a harsh
whisper as he wound down.

   This wasn't the first time he'd played this card to good effect.  I felt
my heart rise into my throat.  He thought using his money as a threat was
what would motivate me.  He never seemed to get that it was his approval
that made me do what he wanted.  I had to make the choice now between
pursuing a relationship with a man, one that would probably end in
disaster, and making Daddy happy.

   Daddy's hard glare told me I didn't have the luxury of time, either.  I
had to make that decision right here and now.  Should I follow my heart or
my mind?  Was there really a choice?  As always, he held all the cards.

   Then I remembered what Tony said yesterday.  The past defined us, but we
could choose to break the cycle.  If we were willing to accept the pain and
start again.  Karma or redemption?  Right now, I was at the cusp of two
very different futures.  One with Daddy's approval and one without any
close family at all.  I took a deep breath and made the most important
decision of my life.

   "Take your inheritance and shove it, Daddy.  I never wanted your
stinking money.  I wanted something you can't give me.  Come on, Tony." My
voice was astonishingly level and somehow I wasn't shaking like a leaf.

   Daddy looked stunned and Melissa looked triumphant as I pushed past them
and into the funeral home.  Conrad looked gay but that was probably
natural. Now I noticed all the people around that had been staring at the
confrontation, and I couldn't decide if the fact it would spread like
wildfire was good or bad.

   I went to the front row and sat down with Tony next to me, staring
straight ahead.

   What had I just done?  Was I right?  Wrong?  Stupid?  All of the above?
I felt my breathing start to speed up and the tears threatened to overwhelm
me.

   Tony took my hand in his, and I looked at him through my unshed tears.
"I'm so proud of you," he said quietly.

   I stopped a maniacal laugh in my throat through brute force.  "I've just
walked away from the only family I've ever known."

   He nodded.  "Just like I did.  Now you don't have to fit into the mold
of what they expect and demand.  You can be who you want to be now."

   That brought a small smile.  "I already have a reputation for doing what
I want in spite of the consequences."

   "I didn't say free to do what you want, Regan.  That's not the same
thing as being free to be who you want to be."

   I pulled a tissue from my purse and wiped my eyes.  "I guess I don't
understand the difference yet."

   "We've got years to figure that out," he said confidently.

   "We?  Planning on being around for a while?"

   "For a while," he agreed with a smile.

   Conrad came up and sat stiffly down the bench from me as the minister
walked up to the podium to start the funeral.  I finally noticed that I
hadn't seen Rod.  I worried about where he was and what he was doing when I
couldn't see him.

   Nothing could be done about that now.  Giving my attention over to the
service, I ignored Conrad, though I felt his gaze on me several times.



   I cried through the funeral, but it went as well as that kind of thing
can go.  Many people got up and spoke about all the good things my mother
had done, and how she had blessed the people around her.  Some of it was
real, but the rest of it was well-meaning tripe and posturing.  All too
many people said the right thing only so they could be seen doing it.

   Near the end, I stood up and made my way to the podium, cutting off
Conrad before he could walk to the microphone for the final eulogy.  Conrad
sat back down abruptly and glared at me.

   Since I'd decided before the funeral not to speak, that must have
surprised the minister but he took it in stride.  I suppose he'd seen it
all at these sorts of things.  Looking out over the crowd, I felt the
rising tension.  They expected something bad to happen.  I imagine that
meant that word of my telling Daddy off had already made the rounds.

   I smiled at Conrad and then at Daddy for a moment.  Then I focused on
the crowd as a whole.  "Everyone's spoken about all the good works my
mother did in her life, but I don't think they've touched on the core of
who she was.  Let me tell you about my mother.  She was a flawed woman."

   At the swift inhalation of breath, I smiled a little deeper.  "Yes,
flawed.  As flawed as we all are.  Some more flawed than others." I spared
a glance at Conrad without being obvious about it.  "In spite of her own
flaws, she loved me in spite of my flaws.  She loved me, and I love her,
still.  Maybe that seems a little off topic from all the grand stories here
this morning, but it's what's important to me.  Despite our personal
failures, we could love one another in our own ways.  I'll miss you, Mom."

   Wiping my face, I resumed my seat.  Tony slid an arm around me and held
me reassuringly close while Conrad walked stiffly to the podium and made
the most pompous speech, seeming to focus more on him than her.  Typical.

   The minister closed the service and thanked everyone for coming.  That
seemed to cut loose the crowd and I again broke the rules and walked to my
mother's casket one last time.  I kissed her face and whispered goodbye. 
Then I walked out with my back straight and my head held high.

   Outside, I'm sure Conrad would have done something nasty if I'd bothered
to stop and try to speak to him.  But I blew past him without pausing. 
Daddy and Melissa were already in the parking lot and he stared at me for a
moment before deliberately turning his back and climbing into his car. 
Melissa's grin was predatory as she followed him.  I tried to pretend it
didn't hurt as Daddy turned his back on me.

   "Come on," Tony said, leading me to his Rover through the dispersing
crowd.  People avoided me as if I'd caught the plague.  "Time to go get
roaring drunk."

   "That sounds like a grand idea," I agreed with a sigh.  "Drive on,
MacDuff." I was glad I wouldn't be flying back to Knoxville for the burial.
After all that had happened, I just couldn't bear to go and see her put in
the ground.  I just couldn't.  Perhaps that is why she insisted that her
will be read here tomorrow morning.  Maybe she knew me better than I knew
myself.



   Stopping on the way back to the hotel, I managed to find a bottle of
François Villard St.  Joseph Blanc 1996 and Tony snagged a bottle of Basil
Hayden's Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey.  That beat the hell out of the
crap in those stupid mini-bars.

   When we made it to our room, we saw the light blinking on the phone. 
"Get that, will you?" Tony asked as he set the bottles on the counter.

   I dialed the desk and asked for any messages.  The perky female voice
that answered set my teeth on edge, but I just asked for the messages.

   "No messages, ma'am.  We had a package delivered for your room," she
said.

   "A package?" I asked, surprised.  "What kind of package?"

   "It looks like a box of clothes," she said cheerfully.  "A man left it
for your room this morning."

   "I'll be right there," I said and hung up before she could respond.  "I
think we need to shift hotels."

   Tony shrugged.  "That's fine.  You go get the package.  I'll pack and
pick you up in the lobby in ten minutes.  Just check us out."

   With a nod I left him packing and walked to the office.  The woman
looked just as disgustingly perky as she sounded.

   I presented my ID and room key and she handed me a cardboard box.

   I took it and opened the lid to glance inside at the contents.  It
looked like my clothes and small personal effects.  On top was an envelope
with my name on it.  I tore it open and scanned the short note.

   Neither you nor your friend is welcome in my home any longer.  Don't
come back to my property.  - Conrad

   I crumpled the note.  "We're going to be checking out early."

   Unperturbed, the cheerful clerk nodded and processed us out.  I stepped
outside and went through the box in detail while I waited for Tony.  Under
all the clothes was another of Rod's vials.  I gritted my teeth in rage,
poured it onto the ground, and scattered it with my foot.  Then I crushed
the vial under my shoe.  That asshole.

   A minute later Tony pulled up and I climbed in.  "Where to?" he asked.

   "The Hilton," I said.  "If I'm going to be disowned, I can at least
celebrate in style.  And they have rooms with a Jacuzzi tub."

   He shook his head and smiled at me.  Without another word, he drove to
the Hilton.



   The Hilton and I had a real history.  If you looked at it from the right
perspective, that history was both good and bad.  At least one incident had
been both at the same time.

   I shook my head and scattered the gathering thoughts.  Tony was right.
The past was the past and I couldn't choose to undo those long ago events,
even if I'd wanted to.  To be honest, considering how blissfully happy Gina
was now, I wouldn't change that night one bit, even though I regretted the
pain I'd helped cause that night.

   In the end, that strength and independence of Gina's was worth all the
pain she'd endured, even if I was sometimes mystified at her taste in
husbands.  Still, he made her happy and if that's what she wanted, it's
what I wanted for her.  I didn't have to understand.  I just needed to love
her.  I did envy the happiness she'd made for herself, though.

   A glance and a smile back at Tony reinforced how life sometimes took a
left turn and tossed all our plans and expectations on their heads.  Maybe
I needed to reevaluate my opinion about Gina's husband, since I had to
re-examine everything in my life.  Even knowing Tony as little as I did, he
and Gina's husband seemed to have a good bit in common.  They were both in
good shape, but more importantly, they had a similar strong self-assurance.
I found the similarities a bit disconcerting and just a little bit ironic.

   With a laugh that drew a surprised look from Tony, I walked quickly into
the lobby and straight up to the desk clerk.

   "I need a suite with a Jacuzzi," I said, sliding my ID and credit card
over.



   An hour later we were safely ensconced in a nice suite and sitting naked
in the Jacuzzi, sipping on our drinks.  Well, he was sipping and I was
closer to gulping.  I expected him to tell me to slow down or something,
but he didn't.  After the first glow hit me, I slowed down and watched him
from beneath my eyelashes.

   "Aren't you afraid I'll drink myself into a stupor?" I asked.

   "I wouldn't say 'afraid', but I am worried about it," he admitted.

   "Then why aren't you stopping me?"

   He smiled and shook his head.  "If anyone deserves to get falling down
drunk tonight, it's you, and I won't stop you.  If you do, I'll make sure
you get safely to bed, so don't worry about it."

   "Does that involve more gentleman-like behavior?"

   "Yep," he said, sipping his drink.  "I won't take advantage of you while
your defenses are down."

   I set my wineglass on the side of the tub and slid over to him in the
hot water.  Surprised, he barely had time to set his drink down before I
was sitting in his lap and pulling his arms around my waist.  I ran my
hands across his chest, feeling the hard muscles under soft skin.

   "Well, my defenses aren't down right now, or at least they're up as far
as they need to be.  So, what if I want you to take advantage of me?" I
nipped his earlobe gently.  "What if I want you to make love to me right
now?  I don't understand why I feel so close to you, much less so quickly,
but I don't want to fight it anymore.  Do you want me, Tony?"

   A slow smile spread on his face as I felt him rise to the occasion until
he was firm against my thigh.  I moved and allowed him to unbend himself.
Then I rubbed myself against his erection.  His eyes lost focus a little at
that, and he pulled me against him and kissed me deeply.

   I melted into him as the emotions that I'd been holding in check were
suddenly rushing through my mind.  This was like making love to Gina or
Margot, but somehow not quite the same.  I kissed him back with an ardor
that surprised me.  I was suddenly hungry for him in the worst way.

   The world shrunk to just the two of us as his hands found my breasts. 
The sweet mixture of pleasure and pain when he bit my nipples made me gasp.
I felt so hot inside that the hot tub felt cool.

   He stopped me when I reached down to guide him inside me.  "No, let me
make love to you."

   Surprised and confused, I nodded and stood up uncertainly.  He pulled me
out of the tub and dried me thoroughly.  The soft caress of the towel drove
me crazy, and he seemed to know right where to touch me.

   He dried quickly, led me slowly into the bedroom by the hand and sat me
on the edge of the bed.  I watched him curiously to see what he had in
mind.

   Taking my face in his hands, he kissed me slowly and deeply.  I felt
that kiss down to my toes.  Then he let his lips travel all over my face
and neck, kissing and gently nipping my skin.  Gasps and moans escaped my
lips as he continued his slow torture.

   His hands cupped my breasts.  He licked and nipped my neck, his hands
gently squeezing and twisting my nipples in ever-growing sharp twists.  He
quickly discovered that I liked my nipples treated roughly.

   My eyes watched him lustfully and I tried to pull his head back up to
kiss me.  That got his hands to capture my wrists and hold them pinned at
my sides.

   "Oh, no," he whispered hungrily.  "I'm going to kiss every inch of your
body before we make love.  No shortcuts." That fired a jolt of pure lust
through my body.  I was instantly drenched inside.  When he let go of my
hands, I forced them to remain at my sides as he resumed his slow progress.

   I was breathing heavily by the time his mouth captured my right nipple.
I sucked in my breath, and my back arched convulsively.  He licked, bit,
and sucked it until my hips were thrusting rhythmically.  I moaned at every
gentle nip of his teeth.  I don't remember tangling my fingers in his hair
but this time he didn't complain.  The sensations had far surpassed
anything I'd ever felt with a man before, and I began to think I was going
to come just from his lips on my breasts.

   Groaning, I again tried to fight him for control.  I wanted him inside
me and I wanted it now!

   He easily pinned me back on the bed.  "No, no, no," he grinned.  "That
gets you two minutes in the penalty box."

   "God," I groaned in frustration.  "How can you stand this?  Fuck me,
Tony.  Please, fuck me!"

   "Good things come to those who wait," he teased.  "Patience is a
virtue."

   I almost screamed, but he only laughed and went back to kissing my inner
arm, working slowly toward my wrist.  With my arms trapped in his hands I
couldn't even touch myself.  I writhed, attempting to rub against him for
relief.  Tony laughed and didn't cooperate.

   By the time he was working his way down my stomach, I was sure that I
was going to die.  It felt like I'd been on the brink of a massive orgasm
for hours.  Every minute was the most exquisite torture.  As he kissed my
inner thigh, I felt the moisture of my arousal run down my ass.  I could
only imagine the massive wet spot.

   Then he started away from my sex and down toward my knee and I did
scream.  "Oh, God!"

   Tony laughed and kept kissing, licking, and nibbling me very, very
slowly.  He made me bend my knee and kissed all the way down to my feet,
licking and sucking the arch of my foot.  It was so close to tickling that
I almost kicked him, but it was also erotic in a way I'd never imagined. 
When he sucked my toes and gave each one a miniature blowjob, I felt it all
the way up my spine and my eyes closed in pleasure.

   He repeated that fantastic performance on my other foot, and started
back up my other leg.  I knew what was coming now, and I was so ready that
I just knew I was going to cream all over him at the first touch of his
lips on my sex.  Inch by torturous inch, he covered the distance, seeming
to slow down as he came closer to his goal.  By the time his nose touched
my pubic hair, my hips were thrusting uncontrollably and I was urging him
on with soft groans and moans.

   He settled between my legs and blew softly on my pussy.  He pushed me to
the very brink of orgasm without having touched my sex even once.  As he
leaned forward, I tensed in anticipation, the moment drawing out almost
painfully.  Then, all of a sudden, he rolled me onto my stomach.  "Time for
the back half," he said in that infuriatingly cheerful voice.

   I lost it.  I completely lost my marbles right there.  I begged.  I
pleaded.  I threatened.  I insulted.  All that got me was more time in the
penalty box.  Remorselessly, he started at my neck and worked his way down
my back.  Goosebumps covered every inch of me, and I felt like I was
floating.

   His teeth on my ass while his hands squeezed my butt cheeks made me
start grinding into the bed.  He had to pull one hand back to pull me away
from the promise of gratification.  That precipitated a war for control of
my hands again that I quickly lost.

   "You're almost there," he encouraged me, his warm breath flowing along
the crack of my ass.  "Just a few minutes more..." Then he gently spread
the globes of my ass and ran his tongue along my rosebud.  Lightning
flashed through my brain as he proceeded to give me the rimjob of my life.
I'd usually been the giver of anal pleasure and now he was driving me
totally crazy with it.

   I was almost too incoherent to feel it when he flipped me back over and
onto my back.  Then he buried his face between my legs and split me with
his tongue while two fingers plunged inside me.  I thought the world had
ended.  I don't know how long he had kept me on the brink of orgasm, but
that pushed me over like a barrel over Niagara Falls.  I was unstoppable
and he rode me in a frenzy of licks, sucks, and plunging fingers.  One
after another, the orgasms rolled over me and through me like an electric
current as I writhed under his glorious torment.



   Groggily, I focused on Tony's grinning face that seemed to be floating
over me.  I blinked and stretched languorously.  "Dear God," I whispered.
"What did you do to me?"

   "I like to call that 'around the world in eighty minutes,'" he said,
kissing me softly.  His face was thoroughly drenched with my juices.

   "If I had any energy left, I'd hit you for torturing me like that, you
bastard," I said with a sigh.

   "You'd better have some energy," he smirked, "because the main event is
about to begin."

   I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him on top of me, luxuriating in
the feel of his body against mine.  Then, I rolled him onto his back and
broke our kiss.  "After you calling all the shots, I think I need a little
cowgirl action.  Lie back like a good boy and let me have my way with you."

   With a laugh, he surrendered and put his hands behind his head.  "I'm
yours.  Do your worst."

   Hungrily eyeing his cock, I decided I wanted a little taste of him
first. Just enough to get him all wired to go crazy when I was ready to
fuck him silly.  And I could get some more of that talented tongue of his.
I wasn't ready to say he ate better pussy than Gina did, but he certainly
knew his way around one.

   With a quick twist, I slid on top of him and ground my pussy in his
surprised face while I used my hand slowly to jack his cock.  "Get back to
licking me while I warm up the quarterback." My eyes grew heavy lidded as
he wrapped his arms around my ass and dove in tongue first.  Oh, yeah, this
man would go far.

   Licking my lips, I lowered my face to his cock and took the head of it
into my mouth.  His masculine taste exploded across my tongue, and I
gloried in the velvety warmth of his cock.  I wrapped my lips around him
and felt his pulse in the most intimate way imaginable.  His heartbeat
thundered inside my mouth.

   When he started thrusting his hips, I used my hands to foil him from
fucking my mouth.  This was payback.  I was going to torture him and then
fuck him after he lost his mind.  Slowly, I built my tempo until I was
taking half his length at each plunge at the same rate of thrust he was
trying to use on me.  As his oral technique suffered, I knew I was having
an effect on him.

   As his precum became abundant, I pulled him out of my mouth and began
jacking him off.  Every few jerks I'd lick his head completely.  This was
when I discovered that instead of being the expected chore, going down on
him was exciting me far more than going down on men had in the past.  Even
the taste of his precum was exciting.

   Taking a deep breath, I changed my plans and plunged my mouth down on
his cock, inhaling and tying to suck him deep into my throat.  I wanted to
caress him with my throat muscles.  I'd never been fond of giving head so,
of course, I choked a little and backed off to use my lips and tongue. 
Maybe Gina could give me some pointers.

   Tony must have liked it, though.  I thought he was going to throw me off
with the thrusting and it made me feel very pleased with myself.  I started
sucking him as if I meant it.  Usually, having a man come in my mouth was a
gift to him, but this time I greedily wanted to treat myself.

   I barely had a moment's warning when he arched wildly and his cock began
swelling in my mouth.  I pulled back until only the head was in my mouth
and used my hands to stroke his length as he came.  As his come exploded
across my tongue, I exulted.  At this moment, I wanted his come in my mouth
more than I'd ever wanted anything before.  One swallow and then another,
and he trailed off into mild twitches and moans.

   But I wasn't done with him yet.  It was payback time for earlier.  Even
as he collapsed, I licked him clean and spun over him again.  Before he
knew it he was balls deep inside me, and I arched my back and groaned at
the ceiling.  My strap-on wasn't even in his league.  It was good, but a
real man was much, much better.  I hadn't been with a man at all since my
last divorce and I'd almost given up on anything but women; but now I felt
more alive than I had in years.

   Leaning forward, I let my hair cover his chest.  Then I started grinding
myself against him, bouncing slowly.  I could tell it was a rough
transition for him.  He was probably sensitive, and here I was forcing him
to ride out that feeling.  What a bitch, I thought with a grin.  I was
impressed that he didn't complain.

   For a while, we ground together and I started having a string of small
orgasms while I rode him.  That urged me on to a faster pace and soon I was
bouncing up and down so hard that I would've been afraid the bed would
collapse if I'd had the attention to spare.

   At what I thought was the height of those orgasms, Tony rolled me over
and began thrusting himself deeply into me.  Then I discovered I only
thought I knew how intense it could get.

   I clung to him, unable to do anything but scream and writhe with my sex
jerking up to meet his fevered thrusts.  My mouth locked to his and I tried
to suck his tongue down my throat while he built to a crescendo on top of
me.  My entire body spasmed and I locked my legs around his waist, moaning
his name into his ear while I held him.

   He pinned me to the bed with an incredibly deep thrust.  I felt him
swell inside me, and then his cock convulsed as the hot, wet sensation of
his come filled me.  I squeezed him repeatedly with my internal muscles,
milking him with the velvet glove of my pussy.

   A hot, sweaty tangle of limbs, we collapsed together and whispered to
each other.  It didn't take me long to get that this was more than hot sex.
I loved him.  That emotional connection to him was there in a way I could
never have dreamed of with a man.  I loved him.  I'd thought I'd thrown my
life away, but I'd only just found it.

   I finally realized that he was telling me something repeatedly.  "I love
you." I knew men used it as a way to get what they wanted from women but
this time I somehow knew deep inside that it was real.

   "I think I love you, too," I whispered dreamily back, shocking myself.
My mouth seemed to have developed a mind of its own.  What the hell was I
saying?

   I lay there thinking about it as he drifted off to sleep beside me.  I
finally decided that I'd just have to trust my instincts and let sleep drag
me into the most wonderful dreams.





   Chapter Five: Karma

   When we woke the next day, we made slow and gentle love in the morning
sunlight.  It was so unlike what I normally associated with sex.  It was a
slow, sensual, ever-deepening closeness; not a mad rush for pleasure.  Oh,
make no mistake, the orgasms were there for me, but the real treasure was
the developing feelings between me and the man - the man - who was making
love to me.

   Afterward, lying in his arms, I felt more at peace with myself than I
think I'd ever felt.  I didn't want the moment to end.  I wanted to lay
there with him forever; but, that wasn't in the cards.  I sighed and
nestled closer to Tony, shielded and safe in his arms.

   "I don't want to go," I said, "but I need to.  I need to finish this."

   He kissed my nose and pulled my head to his chest.  "I'll go with you.
And if Conrad starts something, I'll stuff him in a trash compactor."

   I laughed.  "You'd ruin the trash."

   Reluctantly, I got out of bed.  We showered together, and a little
fooling around almost got us sidetracked.

   As we dressed, I watched Tony, openly admiring his body.  He just
grinned at me.

   "What do we do now?" I asked, a little afraid of the possibilities. 
"Can you go to LA or will that ruin your work?"

   "I have a really good relationship with the company, so I can take a
leave of absence to go to LA.  We'll figure it out there," he said
reassuringly.  "There's no need to rush.  Let's take this one step at a
time and do this right."

   Grateful, I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding.  "That
makes me feel better." I gave him a soft kiss.  "Thank you."

   He grinned and swatted my ass.  "Get dressed and let's go.  Finish this
so we can start the rest of our lives." I felt dizzy at the implication of
his words.  With a smile, I dressed and we left.



   The offices of Dugan and Reynolds looked suitably posh for Mother to
retain.  With her, appearances meant everything; and this place screamed
money and influence.  Creamy marble and expensive wood dominated the hard
surfaces and over-stuffed leather furniture graced the wide open space.

   The receptionist, a young woman in a designer blouse and sweater, gave
Tony a discreet once over and smiled at us.  When I identified myself, she
showed us into a conference room.

   I sat and twirled slowly in one of the executive chairs, feeling my
uncertainty creep back up on me.  Why the hell was I even here?  Conrad was
just going to make a sweep of Mother's possessions and gloat.  Part of me
still regretted losing that much money, but I was growing more used to the
idea; it didn't hurt quite the same way now.  Honestly, I was more irked
that Conrad was going to get his way than anything else.

   Right on the stroke of ten, the door opened and an older man in a
tailored suit walked in with a large folder in his hand.  He had that
distinguished look that control and power brought to a man, and he used it
well to hold himself apart from us even as he shook our hands.

   "Good morning.  My name is Orin Reynolds and I'll be handling the
reading and execution of Mrs.  Masterson's will."

   I grimaced as he said that.  Having Mother even attached to Conrad's
name irked me.

   As Mr.  Reynolds sat down, he opened the folder revealing papers and
three DVDs.  "Miss Thomas, Mister Masterson, please allow me to express my
condolences for your loss.  I never met..." He dragged to a halt as I held
up my hand.

   "I'm sorry, but there's been a misunderstanding," I said.  "I'm Miss
Thomas, but this isn't Mister Masterson.  This is my friend Tony Di Ricco.
He's here for moral support."

   The lawyer apologized for the mistake and closed the folder.  "I hope
you'll understand, but we need to wait for Mister Masterson, since both of
you are required to be present for the reading of the will."

   "My mother left a video for us?" I asked, hearing the tremor in my
voice. I'd expected the dry reading of what went where and perhaps some
words from on high about how I should do better in the future.  How would
those words change if she only could see me now?

   The lawyer nodded.  "I can't go into the specifics just yet, but she did
leave a personal message to be played to both of you."

   Tony held my hand under the table and we waited.  And waited.  And
waited some more.  To the point that Mister Reynolds excused himself and
made some calls.  The receptionist got us some coffee while Tony and I
spoke quietly as we waited.

   It was almost eleven when Conrad sauntered in with the frowning lawyer
behind him.  Conrad seemed unnaturally cheerful and didn't acknowledge us
in any way, not even to protest Tony being there.  That was so out of
character that it set off my asshole warning system.  I didn't know what
his game was, but there was something going on.  His perfunctory apology
satisfied no one, and was just another reason to dislike him.

   The lawyer opened the folder, pulled out one of the DVDs and slid it
into the player below the recessed television at the end of the room. 
"Mrs. Masterson left her final will verbally on this recording.  It was
witnessed by the staff of this firm.  Her written will also specifies the
same wishes.  She didn't have to make the recording," he assured us, "but
insisted on doing so.  It was made less than a month ago, right here in
this room."

   When the picture came on, Mother was sitting in a chair in front of the
same paneling I could see to my left.  She looked like...  Mother: proud,
powerful and supremely self- confident.  The fact that she was wearing the
same dress she chose to be buried in was enough to creep me out completely.
Tony noticed, and slipped his arm around me.

   God, she was so young!  The pain of losing her hit me all over again. 
She was only in her sixties.  She should've had decades of life left.  It
was so unfair.

   "Obviously, I'm dead," my mother said from the TV.  "I know that I have
breast cancer, and that it's going to kill me, probably within a few
months." If that news bothered her, she didn't choose to share the emotion
with us.

   "I could've let everyone know, but I didn't want to start a three-ring
circus in my final days.  I wanted to die in peace.  Hopefully, I did so."
She smiled a small smile.  "You know me, though; I just couldn't resist
controlling the chaos I'm leaving behind."

   That was the truth.  I snorted, which earned a sharp look from Conrad.

   "My will is short and sweet," she continued.  "Regan." I sat straighter
and then smirked at myself - I still jumped at her call.  "I know we've had
our disagreements over the years.  I'm not the least bit sorry for that."
She nodded her head forward.  "What I am sorry for is that we weren't
closer than we were.  Despite my disapproval of your lifestyle, I want you
to know that I do love you, and I'm sorry that we never had the chance to
grow closer.  That is the one regret I have in this life, and the one way
I've failed you."

   Tears filled my eyes.  The lawyer had to stop the video while I regained
my composure.  She could have called me any time to ask me to come, and we
could have talked.  Or maybe we couldn't have.  Perhaps it had been too
late.  Perhaps we were so alike that it had always been too late.

   When I was able to continue, the lawyer started the video again and
Mother continued.  "That said, I hope that one day you will get your life
under control and find someone that makes you happy.  A man.  Really,
Regan, you need a good man in your life." With one word, she conveyed her
subtle disapproval of all my bisexual antics.  Another thing she never
understood about me.

   "Speaking of good men, that leads me to Conrad," she continued.  He sat
up straighter and looked expectantly at the screen.  "Not to confuse you
with a good man, though you are a man," she said with a sniff.

   I expected some reaction from him, but Conrad's smirk at me was hardly
keeping with the tone in Mother's voice.  This just wasn't tracking.

   "I know that you've slept around on me, but at least you were discreet
about it," she continued.  "Because it's a good idea, I've decided to go
with your advice in regards to Regan." I stiffened in my chair and Conrad's
expression became almost gloating.  What advice, I wondered in growing
dread.

   Mother cut off my internal questions and delivered her pronouncement. 
"Regan, some of your behavior recently has worried me.  I've been afraid
you've fallen back in with bad companions.  Let me be blunt, dear.  I'm
afraid you've started taking drugs again." She stared solemnly out of the
screen as I gaped in shock.  "Conrad convinced me that if you had, I
shouldn't support you in destroying yourself and, for once, I agree with
him."

   I glared at Conrad.  Tony had to pull me back into my seat as I tried to
get up to smash his smug face.  He'd set me up!  Conrad and Rod had set me
up!

   Unaware of the unfolding drama in the room, Mother continued to speak.
"Your inheritance is dependent on a clean drug test to be administered here
and now.  I hate being firm with you, but if you fail this test or refuse
to take it, you will inherit one dollar and nothing more."

   The lawyer ejected the DVD and put it back in its case.  "I have a nurse
in the building and she has a testing kit."

   I stood up and glared at Conrad.  "Fine, let's get this farce over
with."

   Tony rose to his feet and stopped me, earning a confused look from the
lawyer.  "I don't trust Conrad.  I think I should take the test first, just
to make sure there's no funny business.  I know Regan's clean, and so am
I."

   Surprised, I looked at Conrad.  Could he fix this, too?  Probably.  The
lawyer was offended that Tony questioned his integrity.  Too bad for him. I
sided with Tony and the lawyer relented.  Conrad sat back, still looking
very pleased with himself.

   Ten minutes later, Tony was back with a woman dressed in scrubs.  He
just grinned and gave me a thumbs up as the nurse gave the lawyer the same
information in a hushed tone.

   "Piece of cake, sweetie," Tony whispered in my ear.  "Go in there and
settle this once and for all."

   I kissed his cheek and nodded.  "I'm ready." I followed the nurse to a
restroom and she locked the door behind her.

   Reaching into a box, she pulled out a small plastic cup and handed it to
me.  "I'm sorry, but I have to see you fill the container," she said
apologetically.

   That made me smile.  I'd probably had more women look at my pussy from
far closer than she could guess.  "No problem." I quickly filled the cup
and handed it over.  While she ran her test on my sample, I sat back on the
toilet and finished.

   By the time I emerged from the stall, she was cleaning up.  She smiled.
"All clear, Miss Thomas."

   "Thank you," I said with a bit of relief.  At this point, I didn't want
to care about getting Mother's money, but part of me still did.  Even if
the lion's share still went to Conrad, so be it.  I guess I couldn't change
everything about me overnight.  I followed the nurse back to the conference
room and glared at Conrad as I sat down.  I thought the peacock was going
to explode with excitement.

   The lawyer nodded to the nurse and she walked out with a smile directed
at me.  As soon as I closed the door, he smiled at me.

   "Congratulations, Miss Thomas.  All clear, as you no doubt expected."

   Tony squeezed my hand and said nothing.  His smile was worth all this to
me.

   Conrad leapt to his feet with a screech.  "What?  Impossible!" He
grabbed the table and glared at me.  "She fixed the test or paid off the
nurse.  Call in someone else to do the test.  With witnesses!"

   The lawyer's smile at Conrad seemed to have a hint of malice under the
professional veneer.  "I'm very sorry you feel that way, Mister Masterson,
but your wife's instructions on this matter are crystal clear, and she left
the final authority with me.  Nurse Granger and her firm are above
reproach. The results stand.  Now, if you will resume your seat, I will
select the appropriate clip to close out Mrs.  Masterson's statement."

   "The appropriate clip?" Tony asked.

   "Indeed," the lawyer replied.  "Depending on the outcome of the test,
there were two closing videos.  I am only authorized to play the one
dealing with a clean test result.  The other will be destroyed by me
immediately following the signing of the papers." He slid the second DVD
into the player and started the video.

   Part of me was still very angry with Mother for doubting me, but I had
to admit that she probably had good reason.  My track record was long and
distinguished.  I watched her appear and nod at me through the screen.

   "I'm sorry I put you through that, Regan, but I had to be sure." She
actually did sound a little sorry, and I felt my anger toward her melting
just a little.  "I'm proud of you for staying clean.  Now you need to work
on getting the rest of your life in order.  Say 'yes, Mother,'" she said
with a smile.

   I shook my head at her reproach, but said, "Yes, Mother."

   "Let's finish this, shall we?" she asked.  "Conrad, here is where I
deviate from what we discussed." Conrad sat bolt upright.  "To my daughter,
Regan, I leave the chalet that I know she loves so much."

   Conrad seemed to be choking on something but I barely heard him.  My
heart was soaring.  The chalet meant more to me than I'd been willing to
admit.  It was a part of me after all these years.

   "Seeing as I've already made all the charitable contributions in this
life that I care to, that leaves the remainder of my assets, including my
home in Knoxville that I share with Conrad."

   At that, Conrad sat forward.  It was disappointing, but I wasn't going
to lose sleep over him getting what he'd schemed over so long.  In the end,
it was more than Daddy's fortune, since Mother had socked it to him in the
divorce, but I had all I wanted.  Her love and the chalet would be just
fine.

   "Those assets," Mother continued blandly, "also go to my daughter,
Regan, except for Conrad's inheritance of one dollar.  And don't bother
challenging it, Conrad.  I have video of your infidelities, and our pre-nup
is crystal clear on this point."

   She sat serenely with her hands folded on her lap as Conrad began
shouting and pounding things.  I could only sit there and blink stupidly at
the TV.  What did she say?  I felt like I was having an out of body
experience - to which I'll admit to some familiarity.  From the blinking of
Mother's eyes, I knew the video wasn't paused, so she was just waiting for
the scene to calm.

   With shouted threats of lawsuits and appeals, Conrad stormed out of the
conference room and left us in relative peace.  Mother sat quietly for
another half-minute before continuing.

   "Well, I'm betting Conrad has left.  No doubt in quite a temper," she
said dryly.  "He never was as smart as he thought he was.  Regan..." I
swallowed and waited.  "The last thing I'll leave you is a piece of advice.
Don't make the same mistake I did.  Don't mistake existence for life.  Find
someone you can love.  Forget what anyone expects of you.  To hell with
them.  Find someone that you actually love and stay with them," she
grimaced in distaste, "even if it is a woman."

   I laughed and hugged Tony to me.  If only she were here!  As sad as it
was, her passing had made me see exactly what she was telling me.

   "I love you." She smiled affectionately and the screen went dark.

   The lawyer rose, pulled out the DVD, and handed me both the ones that
we'd viewed.  "The unviewed disc will be destroyed after you sign next to
the arrows on these papers." He also took one of the two papers from the
folder before calling in his secretary to witness.  I suppose those papers
would've given Conrad his heart's desire.

   Tony stood and put his hands on my shoulders while I signed the
documents.  It was odd how you could throw your life away and find it anew.


   The lawyer handed the unneeded DVD and papers to his secretary to
destroy.  "If you'll excuse me for a moment?" At my nod, he followed her
out, quietly closing the door behind him.

   "I never could have made it through this without you," I told Tony. 
"And I'd have slipped and given Conrad everything he wanted if you hadn't
been there."

   He kissed my neck.  "All I did was help you help yourself.  It was your
strength that beat him.  That beat both of them."

   That made me feel even better.

   When the lawyer returned we shook hands and I asked him please to see to
locking the bank accounts and securing all of Mother's - my - properties
from Conrad, both physically and legally.  Tony and I will take care of
evicting Conrad from the chalet ourselves.



   Sitting in Tony's Rover after we left the lawyer's office, I tried to
get my bearings.  The events of the past hour or so were still too
overwhelming for me to deal with, so I decided to focus on the here and
now. We'd best go to the chalet and see to throwing out the trash.  And see
about calling a locksmith.

   "Let's go deal with our unwanted house guests," I told Tony.  His
answering grin was almost shark-like, and he drove there quickly.



   The driveway had Rod's rental and Conrad's SUV in it.  I wondered
briefly where he'd found it.

   I climbed out with a shrug.  No matter.  It would be a pleasure to throw
Rod out, too.  I went through the front door and heard Conrad shouting in
the great room.  They must be arguing.  Perfect.  I went up the stairs
quietly with Tony beside me.

   Rod was standing in the center of the room with his arms folded, staring
coldly at Conrad.  Conrad was pouring himself a drink and hurling
invectives at Rod.

   "If you call me incompetent one more time," Rod snarled, cutting Conrad
off in mid-curse, "I'll stuff that damned bottle up your ass.  It's not my
fault she didn't use the coke."

   "But you swore she did," Conrad protested, his back still to all of us.
This was interesting stuff indeed.

   "I said she seemed to have taken it," Rod sneered.  "The fact that
you're idiot enough to count on assumptions isn't my problem.  I'm only
here to give her payback for dumping me in the first place.  What happens
to you is your problem."

   "You gentlemen," I said in a clear, firm voice that yanked both of their
eyes immediately to me, "and I use that term very loosely, are on private
property." Conrad dropped the bottle and it shattered loudly in the sudden
silence.

   While Conrad looked like a mouse staring at a snake, frozen in fear, Rod
just smiled.  The same smile of his that he always used when he'd gotten
away with something.

   He sauntered over to stand in front of me.  The arrogance of his stance
stood my teeth on edge, but I didn't want to argue.  I just wanted him
gone.

   "Looks like you came up roses again, babe."

   "Get your things and get out, Rod," I said frostily.  "Now."

   His grin raised my hackles.  "What you want is really no skin off my
nose.  You should know by now that I don't do what you tell me.  "

   As the rage toward Rod flared up inside me, I had even less warning than
Rod when Tony's arm shot past me and a hard-knuckled fist exploded against
Rod's nose.  I swear I could see it flatten and twist in slow motion as
blood squirted from it.  Rod flew back and crashed into a coffee table on
his way to the floor.  That had to hurt.  Rod struggled to get his feet
under him and shot a murderous glare at Tony.

   I wanted to kick him while he was down, but he was back on his feet too
quickly.

   "I suppose you think I deserved that," he sneered at me.  "Fine, you
keep on believing that."

   Tony advanced on Rod, his expression promising pain.  Rod backed up,
holding up one hand.  "This is Conrad's problem, not mine.  I'm leaving
because my business here is done."

   Part of me was very disappointed.  I really wanted to see Rod pay, but
people like him never did.  At least I was through with him once and for
all.  Good riddance.  Tony followed him out while I glared at Conrad.

   "You can leave under your own power right now and I ship your crap to
you, or we toss you out, too," I said serenely.  "Please make me throw you
out.  Pretty please?"

   "Or you'll have that muscle-bound oaf hit me?" he sniffed.  "This isn't
over by any means.  I've already called my attorney to get the will
overturned.  You may have..."

   Even as I stepped up to him, I wasn't sure what I was doing.  The impact
of my knee into his crotch was almost as much a surprise to me as it was to
him.

   Conrad's eyes bulged and he collapsed in a heap, groaning and writhing.

   I stepped back, stunned at my own actions.  I didn't get into fights. 
That was so not me.  I firmly suppressed the satisfaction I was feeling.

   Tony walked back up the stairs, dusting his hand off in a metaphorical
gesture.  "That's it for him, he took off like..." He stopped, staring at
us.  I tried not to look smug.  "I see you and Conrad have finished your
little talk." He grinned at me with an expression that just oozed approval.
"Let's see him out."

   Tony grabbed Conrad by the collar and pulled him to his feet.  I
followed them as he frog- marched the unresisting Conrad to the driveway.
Then he stuffed him into that crappy white SUV of his.  I suppose I
could've made him walk and kept the car, but it hardly seemed worth the
trouble.

   Conrad was coordinated enough to get it started and drive away.  That
was enough for me.

   I turned to Tony and pulled him into my arms.  "I can't imagine karma
bringing you into my life, so it must be redemption."

   He smiled at me.  "It is our redemption and their bad karma coming back
to roost."

   We'd melted together and had only just begun kissing when my cell phone
rang.  I groaned theatrically and pulled it off my belt.  "Regan."

   "Oh, my God," Gina said into my ear.  "Regan, I'm so sorry!  I just
heard the news!  I'll be on a plane as soon as I can.  Are you okay?  Where
do you want me to meet you?"

   I smiled at Tony while he held me.  "Gina, calm down and take a breath.
It's okay.  I'm doing fine.  Don't cut your trip short.  Come see me when
you get back and we'll talk then." I kissed Tony on the lips softly.  "I
have the most amazing thing to tell you, but it can wait.  I'll see you
then.  Call me." Then I hung up before my stunned friend could ask me
questions I wasn't ready to answer yet.

   Tony whispered in my ear.  "You love Gina?"

   I looked into Tony's eyes with a smile.  "Yes, I love her.  I love
Margot, too.  I can't wait for you to meet them." Exploring the
similarities and differences of loving a man would be interesting.  I
couldn't wait for them to meet Tony.

   "Let's call the locksmith and arrange for a caretaker for the chalet.  I
know of a young soon-to-be mother that would be perfect for the job."

   Tony kissed me thoroughly and led me back into the chalet.  The sound of
the door closing behind us reminded me that in life, when one door closed,
another opened.

   The End?  No.  The Beginning.