Tristan saw her and was instantly transported back in time, back to high school, back to graduation day. He stood by his car having just removed his graduation gown looking for Christina and there she was standing ten yards away and also searching for someone, probably Marc Fullerton, he thought with a jealous twinge in his gut.
"Tina!" he called out and to his surprise she smiled broadly and rushed to him. They just stared at each other neither talking, he because his tongue always tied itself into a knot when she was around, she because she had entirely too much to say and didn't know where to begin.
"Christina, we're taking pictures!" Marianne shouted to her but she ignored her.
"Don't forget us little people when you make it big, Tristan, okay?" she said breathlessly.
"What makes you think I'll make it big?" he said as casually as he could.
"I know you will. You're a great guy and I..."
"Christina! We want you in the pictures, come on!" Marc shouted to her.
Tristan wanted nothing more than to punch that guy in the mouth. He smiled wistfully. "You better go. Last time you'll all be together. It's on with our lives now. Just the beginning," he said unenthusiastically.
"Yeah, the beginning," she said, wishing for the courage to say more. Lacking it she half smiled and said, "Bye, Tristan. Have a good life."
Like an idiot all he said was, "You, too, Tina." He'd been kicking himself ever since for not telling her then and there that he loved her passionately and always would.
But here she was once again, Christina Vellano, his dream girl and his greatest regret. She stood mere feet away now rummaging through the ice cream freezer like a woman on a mission.
"Where are you?" she muttered to herself, searching all shelves, pulling out carton after carton until finally she found what she sought. "Gotcha! Birthday Cake, Peter's favorite."
She dropped it into her cart with a satisfied smirk and turned back to the freezer. "Well, this is much easier. Death-by-chocolate and Cookies and Cream. My work is done," she announced to the freezer. She dropped the two containers into her cart and pushed it with a bounce in her step.
Too stunned to speak, Tristan watched in horror as she went down the aisle and disappeared around the corner. Hurriedly snapping out of his trance he pushed his own cart darting around several slow-going people determined to follow and speak to her even though he very much doubted she would remember him. She might not even recognize him, he thought dejectedly. He wasn't exactly eighteen anymore but still he had to try. He had it up to here living with regret. It was to end here and now.
He looked up and down each aisle all the while irrationally wondering if her favorite ice cream was still vanilla bean. Why he still remembered that was a mystery even to him. He could barely remember his own cell number sometimes but he could recall such an insignificant thing as Christina's favorite ice cream? That was just bizarre.
To his chagrin she was gone. He couldn't find her anywhere. Had he imagined her? Panicking now and hoping she was a healthy shopper who took the advice of nutritionists and stayed only on the perimeter of supermarkets he practically ran down to the produce section narrowly missing an old lady trying to choose between 9-lives and Friskies cat food. He rounded the corner and there at last he found her again. Christina stood with one hand hovering over the broccoli. She picked the biggest bunch. As Tristan approached she tried to stuff it into an uncooperative plastic bag. He immediately stepped up and held the bag open for her.
"Thanks. That's much easier with an extra pair of hands," she said before looking up smiling brightly at him.
"Hello, Tina," Tristan said nervously. He watched her brilliant smile vanish, replaced with a blank expression then slowly her eyes widened and her mouth fell open.
Her mind went blank. It just couldn't be. Had her thoughts conjured him up? How often had she thought of Tristan Van Scoy, the one thing she regretted worse than anything? He was the main reason she wanted the mythical do-over. For eighteen plus years she'd kicked herself for letting him slip out of her fingers.
"My God, Tristan," she whispered. She promptly dropped the broccoli and threw her arms around his neck hugging him so hard his head was lucky to stay on.
He grinned and wrapped his arms around her crushing her to him and easily lifting her off her tiny feet. "So, you remember me a little bit," he said thrilled beyond belief.
"Tristan, oh, Tristan," she mumbled squeezing him tighter, emotion welling inside her. She just barely kept the tears at bay. Why she wanted to cry was anyone's guess. But freshly widowed women were allowed that privilege, weren't they? She remembered so clearly standing at Dante's grave and thinking not of the life she had shared with him but the one she might have had with Tristan if only..... Could-have-been's could drive you nuts if you let them.
She slowly, reluctantly released him and he placed her gently on her feet again. They stared at each other in mesmerized silence just like on graduation day.
"You look wonderful," they said together and they laughed.
"I can't believe it's you, Tristan," she gushed breathlessly, adoringly gazing into hazel eyes she thought she'd never see again. "You didn't forget us little people after all."
"Yeah, well, that's because I didn't make it so big and about those little people," he said with a smirk, placing his hand on the top of her head. "I thought you might have grown an inch by now."
She laughed and shook her head. "Still small enough to overlook."
He slowly let his hand slide down her hair, to her shoulder, down her arm to grasp her hand. Oh, but he relished the feel of her. "You were never that small. You always left a big impression with me,"he said seriously.
And no surprise he could still suck the air out of the room. Her whole insides melted. "I've wondered about you, Tristan. Where you were, what you've done, everything," she said quickly before her courage left her as it always had in his presence.
"Have you?" he asked incredulously.
"Of course. I've lost touch with everybody back home. You don't still live in Salem Hill, do you?"
"I do sort of. The town next to it, Kindling Springs. So, you live here. Far from home, huh?" he said needlessly.
"Yeah, and you're here... why?" she asked curiously.
"Vacation. We rented a house on the lake," he said happily.
We. An uncomfortable knot formed in her stomach. Of course, he would have a wife and family, she thought unduly disappointed. A wonderful guy like Tristan would. "We have a house on the lake, too," she said blankly.
"Do you?"he said falsely bright. He could imagine the "we" was Fullerton and that jealously sprung up again like it always did. He hated that guy worse now than ever.
"Uh, does your wife like it up here in the mountains rather than the ocean?" she asked nervously. She expected any minute to be knocked to the ground by a jealous wife. She could imagine her coming from the dairy section ready to scratch her eyes out for daring to touch her man. Christina knew the feeling.
"She hates it. One of a zillion reasons we're now divorced," he said happily.
She couldn't help a surge of happiness herself but squelched it for propriety's sake and said with as much sincerity as she could muster, "I'm sorry, Tristan. Must be tough."
"No, not really. We get along great now that we barely see each other, just for the switching of kids. It's virtually painless but it's been almost six years,"he answered carelessly.
"How many kids you have?" she asked fascinated by the dimple on his chin and the newly found crinkles by his eyes which only made him look better. Too bad it wasn't the same with women, she mused ruefully.
"Three, two girls, Molly and Emily and a boy Lucas."
"Wow, I have two boys, Jacob and Peter and Jessica's my girl," she said smiling brightly.
That explained the frantic ice cream search. It was for the kids but he wondered why she didn't get any for Marc nor for herself. Just as he opened his mouth to ask he saw Lucas, his 13 year old terror come barreling passed the apple display towards them.
"Gees, Dad, what the heck's taking so long? We're melting out....." Lucas stopped and stared at Christina. "What a babe. Way to go, Dad."
"Lucas," Tristan hissed disapprovingly, "Mind your manners."
"Oh, Tristan, is this your son? He's beautiful. He looks exactly like you did in high school," Christina gushed excitedly.
Lucas made a face. "Me? Beautiful?"
She laughed and his dad groaned. "I mean handsome, of course," she said brightly.
"Uh, okay, thanks," he said uncertainly, then he grinned identical to his dad.
"Lucas, this is an old friend from high school, Christina Vellano, I mean, Fullerton," he explained.
"Fullerton?" Christina said baffled. "You don't actually think I married Marc Fullerton."
"Didn't you? You were dating all through school," he said astonished.
"I'd sooner marry Hitler than that idiot," she said derisively.
"Then who did you..."
"Dad, can't you just ask her out already so we can go? It's like a hundred degrees outside. Ask her to come on the boat with us," Lucas said eagerly. Turning to Christina he gleefully added, "Dad's gonna rent a boat and teach me to fish for Barracuda!" He then suddenly burst into an amazing display of air guitar doing Heart's Barracuda.
"Da-de-de-da, de-de-da-da-da-da...."
Christina watched in amazement. "He only just got a guitar for his birthday and that's the only riff he knows," Tristan explained whispering in her ear.
"Well, if you're going to learn only one that's the best one to start with," she said giggling. She grabbed his hand and said, " Oh, Tristan, he's adorable. I just love him."
His heart melted. If he could only get her to say that about himself.
When Lucas was done Christina clapped. "Sorry to say this, Lucas, but there are no Barracuda in Lake Clarito, just a few pike and sunnies. But you don't have to rent a boat. You can use ours. Free of charge," she said quickly.
"Way cool! Dad, you hear that?" Lucas said excitedly. "You picked a great lady. See you soon, Mrs....uh, whatever." He then turned and ran at top speed out the store again.
"He's a bit like a tornado, isn't he?" she said amused.
"More than a bit. Are you sure your husband won't mind?"he asked tentatively.
"I'm positive, as he's dead and even if he weren't..." She shook her head. She hardly wanted to tell Tristan about her sordid marriage. "Anyway, please come. I'd love to meet your kids and I'd like you to meet mine." She pulled out paper and pen and wrote down her address and cell number.
Shocked and utterly ashamed of himself with how happy he felt at hearing her flippantly say her husband was dead he mutely took the paper. "So, what is your last name now?"he asked curiously.
She smiled. "Vellano. I'm once again just Christina Vellano like back in the day. It's like we're starting off where we left off. Way cool, huh?"she said brightly, imitating Lucas perfectly.
"Way cool," he agreed numbly. He thought his frantically thumping heart might give out and unconsciously rubbed at it. "So, we can pretend we're eighteen again?"
She laughed impishly. "Let's say yes. Ought to be fun."
Hell, yeah, it was going to be fun! No more regrets, done with them here and now.