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Subject: {ASSM} Karma, Chapter Two: A story in Nick Scipio's Summer Camp Universe
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Date: Sat, 04 Nov 2006 23:10:01 -0500
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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 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?

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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