Initially, I had no intention of writing a sequel to "Indian Summer," but I was surprised by the amount of positive feedback and e-mails I received on it. The thing that intrigued me the most was the large number of people that fixated on the character of Nancy Corrigan in the story and wanted more written about her. The story that follows came together very fast compared to the way I usually struggle over plot, and writing. I have to say I am quite proud of it and think it may be one of the better things I have put on paper. It definitely features Nancy, as well as fleshing out the character of Marcie Springer who got short shrift in the first story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did creating it. Who knows? If I get enough positive feedback maybe I will continue to write about these characters.
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Nancy Corrigan bent over to pick up the pen she had just dropped on the floor when her cell phone began to vibrate silently on the coffee table making it do a little sideways dance toward the edge. Her nimble fingers scooped up the wandering piece of technology, and she smiled at the name that appeared on its tiny screen.
As soon as she touched the button to connect the call, and placed the phone to her ear, she heard, "Hey there hot stuff!"
Nancy laughed into the receiver. This was the typical greeting of her new lover, and part-time student, Marcie Springer.
What had started weeks earlier as an attempt to convince Marcie to drop the complaint she had filed against Nancy's father, Marcie's history teacher, had to Nancy's surprise blossomed into a bit of a relationship. The two of them had been getting together periodically for Nancy to tutor Marcie in history. These sessions occasionally veered off topic and turned into naked explorations of each other's bodies. Though she could hardly complain about hooking up with a woman as beautiful, and creative in bed as Marcie was Nancy worried that if her father found out, he would be less than pleased. He hadn't gotten over the way Marcie had tried to blackmail him into giving her a passing grade in his class, and he saw her as a manipulative bitch who could not be trusted. This fact had forced Nancy to keep her continued association with Marcie quiet, but she wondered how long she could maintain the secret.
"Hi, Marcie. What can I do for you?"
"I was wondering if I could change the place for our next meeting. I know we usually do it at my dorm, but my parents are back in town, and they want me to stay at the house to visit before they head off to Europe or Asia or wherever they're going next."
Nancy frowned, she knew next to nothing about Marcie's parents other than they had lots of money and lived in a huge house on Beacon Hill perhaps the most exclusive neighborhood in town. They traveled a lot, and Marcie had decided to live in the dorms at school rather than rattle around in a big empty mansion with no one but the servants for company. As much as she was intrigued at the prospect of seeing how the rich and filthy lived Nancy was equally uncomfortable at being in such unfamiliar surroundings. It wasn't like she had come from wealth and privilege.
"I guess that would be o.k," she responded finally.
"Awesome! Let me give you the address. We can keep the time the same."
The back of a napkin on the table in front of her served well enough as a notepad while Nancy copied down the information, and she quickly stuffed it in her purse.
"I will see you this afternoon. Stay sweet!"
Her phone went quiet when Marcie hung up, but the room didn't remain that way for long when the sound of keys hitting the lock signaled that her father had arrived home.
Daniel Corrigan, the current history teacher at Heights University, sauntered in from outside whistling tunelessly. He spotted his young daughter and grinned in her direction.
"Nancy? I thought you were working late today?"
"Change of plans. I got one of the other teachers to cover for me so I could do some tutoring."
"Is this still that same student you've been working with for the past several weeks? You know you have never mentioned who..."
"What's in the box?" said Nancy quickly trying to change the subject.
Daniel was holding a plain, brown container in front of him, and he placed it on the ground pulling the tape off to open the lid. He stood up and yanked the contents of the box free revealing to Nancy a brand new sleeping bag.
"I bought it for Sophia. Can you believe she has never been camping? I hope you didn't mind that I invited her to our outing."
"It's fine, Dad. I love Sophia. I'm sure we will all have a great time together."
She and her Dad had gone camping every summer since she was a little girl. Nancy's mom had never really been the outdoors type, and she usually remained at home. Since her passing the camping trips had subsided, but her Dad had decided to revive the idea this year and had invited Sophia to join them.
"I'm glad you two get along."
"She makes you happy Dad. What's not to like?"
Nancy bounced up from the couch gathering her books while her father slipped the new sleeping bag into a hallway closet.
"I have to run I will see you later," said Nancy rising on her toes to kiss her Dad's cheek.
"Fine, Sweetie. See you later."
It was only well after Nancy had left that Daniel realized that once again she had dodged mentioning who she was tutoring.
The drive to Beacon Hill took Nancy into a part of town she wasn't overly familiar with, and she thanked the inventor of GPS without which she would likely have gotten lost. The house that matched the address Marcie had given her dwarfed her own childhood home by a wide margin. She imagined you could have fit a dozen houses like hers into the one where the Springer's resided. A high, black iron fence enclosed the house with a driveway leading up to a gate that had an electronic intercom on one side. Nancy pulled up close to it and leaned out to press a single red button on the front.
"Yes?" came a strange male voice.
"Um...Hey there...This is Nancy Corrigan. I'm here to see Marcie. Is she in there somewhere?"
"One moment," said the serious sounding voice.
Nancy tapped her fingers on the steering wheel of her car trying to be nonchalant, but she felt intimidated by her surroundings.
"Wait for the gate to fully open, and pull up to the main house."
The iron gate swung ponderously back on its hinges allowing Nancy to drive past, and up a winding road that turned into a wide driveway in front of what she assumed was the primary residence. She had barely exited her car when the massive oak front door opened, and the gorgeous form of Marcie Springer came bounding out grinning and waving her arms.
"Hey, girlfriend! Welcome to the castle my parent's vanity built!"
