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Novel Backstory: Tristana Part 2 (The First Date)

The day arrived. Friday rolled around and Tristana did her best to ignore the impending doom that hung like Damocles sword above her head. She did her normal Friday rounds, cleared everything up, and then after finding no more reasons to delay, headed to her car to drive to Elaine’s.  
 
The rolling of the car along the curvy roads mimicked her stomach’s movements as well so that by the time she arrived at the dirt parking lot that surrounded Elaine’s diner on 3 sides, she no longer thought she could eat a thing and she’d just have a coffee and get the hell out of there. After parking the car, she flipped down the visor and took a quick look at herself.  

“Damn,” she thought, “I should’ve washed my face before I left the farm.” Using a tissue she found in her purse, she wiped at the soil stain under chin. She pulled the ponytail holder out of her long sun-bleached brown hair, before shaking her head and watching it fall around her face. “Dammit. What am I doing?” she muttered before raking her hair back into its normal ponytail and quickly securing it.  

Grabbing her bag and getting out of the car before she did anything foolish, like put on lipstick, she slid out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Walking quickly to the front of the diner, she looked around on the tables outside, but they were empty. She hopped up the steps, yanked the front door open and stepped inside. 

Scanning the booths, she found him. He was sitting back, smiling and chatting with one of the waitresses, who was twirling her hair and chewing gum while she flirted with him. Tristana took a moment to study him, since she’d spent most of the time he was around trying to ignore him completely. 

He had curly brown hair, which was in disarray as if he’d been running his fingers through it. His eyes were brown and widely spaced apart underneath deep thick eyebrows, which moved across his face as he changed expressions. His lips, from what she could see, were full and included a cupid’s bow. And when he smiled, his face lit up and he looked years younger than he really was.  

A husky voice asked, “Table for one, hon, or do you want a counter seat?” 

Tristana turned quickly to her left, her heavy purple leather bag swinging with her body, even though she had a firm grip on the strap as it lay across the middle of her body.  

“Uh, no. I’m meeting someone. Someone over there.” She said, while waving in Patrick’s general direction. The waitress looked to the only booth with someone in it, saw who it was, and pursed her lips.  

“Well, well, well. So he does date.” Tristana frowned at her as Dottie, according to her nametag, continued. “I’ll be damned. We’ve been wondering whether he was married or something, because he’s always real friendly, but he never lets it get beyond that. Crystal has been trying to get him to go out with her for months now, but she always strikes out.” 

Through stiff lips, Tristana forced out. “This is not a date. Just coffee. At a diner.” 

“Whatever you say, honey.” Dottie said as she patted her on the shoulder. 

With a growl, Tristana whipped around and clomped over to the table, almost knocking ‘Crystal’ off her feet as she slid to a stop.  

Patrick looked over her way, but focused back on what Crystal was saying. “So you know, the mud flats are a lot of fun to drive around and you do have the truck for it, so you should come on down on Saturday and check it out. I’ll be there, with a bunch of my friends. I’d bet you’d have a blast.” 

Tristana stood there for a moment and then breathed out heavily.  

 “Oh sorry, hun, did you want to get past?” Crystal said, with a quick glance at Tristana before focusing in on Patrick again.  

Patrick laced his fingers behind his head and grinned at Tristana. 

“If I’m interrupting, I can always just go. There’s plenty for me to get done today.” She bit out with a saccharine sweet smile on her face. 

His eyebrows raised as Crystal stood looking back and forth between them. “Now, now, Ms Tristana. You’re here and you can’t leave until you try their apple pie. It’s heavenly.” His eyes twinkled at her.  

“Are you kidding me? I knew this was a mistake,” she thought. “He’s casually flirting with the waitress, in front of me, while also teasing me to stay here? What an asshole!” 

She’d just determined that she was turning around and walking away, when he leaned forward, his smile fading, and said, “Please Tristana. Have a seat, have a cup of coffee with me and then you can go. I promise I won’t stop you.” 

She stared at him, blinked once, looked at Crystal and said, “I’d like a cup of coffee, black, please.” With a small smile, she slid into the booth and looked up at a stupified Crystal. “Thanks.” 

Crystal blinked a few times, her smile fading, before she plastered it back on and said, “Coming right up. Can I get you anything to eat with that?” 
 
“No. Just coffee, thanks.” 

“You should try the pie. It’s really nice.” Patrick said. 

“I’ve had the pie. If I wanted pie, I would’ve ordered it.” She said before looking back at Crystal. “I’d really just like a cup of coffee.” 

“Sure thing, hun. Coming right up.” Crystal turned and walked away, disappearing behind the counter and through the swinging doors to the kitchen.  

“I wonder how long it’ll take to get my coffee.” Tristana muttered, before sitting back against the booth, her bag still on her shoulder and her hand still on her strap. 

“She may need to make a new batch. I’ve been sitting here a while.” He said, his eyes never leaving her face. 

Tristana smiled coolly back. They stared at each for a few beats before Crystal returned with the coffee, pouring it in both of their cups and asking hopefully, “Can I get you anything else right now, Patrick?” 

“Nope. I too am good for now. We’ll let you know if we need anything else. And thanks for letting me know about the flats. I tend to work on Saturdays, but maybe I’ll be able to swing by some day.” 
 
Crystal’s smile inched up a few notches, “You won’t regret it, I promise,” before twirling around and flouncing away. 

“The mud flats, huh? Sounds like a blast.” Tristana said drily. 

“Eh, it could be fun, sliding around in the mud, getting all dirty and out of control.” He said, his lips pulling up into a sexy smile. 

Letting go of her purse and sitting it on the bench beside her, Tristana pulled the cup of coffee towards her and took a sip. Say what you want about the service, but they made the best coffee here. Closing her eyes briefly as she sipped it, she opened them to find him staring at her intently, like she was a Scooby snack and he was hungry. 

She put the coffee cup down with a bang. “What are we doing here, Patrick?” 

“Getting to know each other over a delicious cup of coffee. What else?” 

“Right. But we don’t come from the same type of family, so again I’m going to ask you, why are you here?” 

“What does family have to do with it?” 

She waved her hands around, “Well, everything, obviously. You come from the top dog family in the village and I…don’t.” 

He clasped his hands on the table in front of him and studied them, his smile sliding away like the sun being covered by clouds. 

“My family is just that – a family. I am not them and they are not me. And we are not the top dogs, as you call it. We’ve just had some successes that others haven’t.” His voice had a bit of an edge to it and he definitely didn’t like the dogs comment. 
 
She huffed out a breath and shook her head. “I didn’t mean anything by my comment on top dogs. It’s a saying, one I say a lot. And it’s the perfect example as to why this is a bad idea. That won’t be the only awful thing I say without thinking. I’m used to a different way of being.” 
 
He looked up at her for a moment, his eyes hooded, before he took a sip of his coffee. When he put it down, he said, “Well, that’s why we’re here. I want to get to know you. I want to know what your way of being is, plain and simple. I’ll try my best to not get offended by offhand sayings if you try your best to relax a little around me.” 

She snorted, clapped her hands over her face, her skin turning bright red and her eyes wide. He tried to hold it in, but couldn’t. His laugh boomed out of him, causing some of the other patrons to turn around and look. Tristana couldn’t stop herself either and began laughing so hard she couldn’t breath, which caused more snorting, which caused more laughing. 

After she finally got control of herself, she wiped the tears from her eyes, sat back and curved her lips up in a real smile.  
 
“Alright, Patrick. What you got?” 

They ended up spending two hours at the diner and not only ordered some pie, but also some fries and onion rings as well. The conversation was smooth and easy and the time flew by before she even noticed. 

As they were arguing about the best way to catch a fish, his eye caught the clock on the wall above the counter.  

“Shit.” He flicked a look at her, saying automatically, “I apologize if I offended you with my rough language.” 
 
She waved it away and dipped her cold fry in the ketchup that was congealing on her plate.  

 “I’m sorry to say, I have to end this pleasant time we’re having, Ms. Tristana. Duty, of the family kind, calls.” 

She turned her head to look at the clock, noting the 3 pm time on it.  

“Is this where you turn into a pumpkin then?” The fry still in her hand, the ketchup slowly sliding towards her fingers. 

“Something like that. I do have to go.” He pulled out his wallet and counted out a few bills, throwing them down on the table before sliding out of the booth.  

“I think I’ll stay and finish my fries and coffee, if that’s alright.” She said, craning her head to look up at him.  

“Of course.” He leaned over the table, his hand resting on the tabletop, almost at kissable range. “I’d like to do this again, Tristana. Same time next week?” 

She stared at him, mesmerized by the flecks of green and gray in his light brown eyes.  
“Alright. We’ll see where it goes. For now.” 

“Excellent.” He leaned in, she stopped breathing, and then before she could stop him, he swiped the fry out of her hand and ate it, laughing at the look on her face. 

“See you next week, Tristana.” Laughing, he walked quickly out of the diner and around the corner to his truck. Moments later, the old battered green Jeep pulled out of the parking lot and drove away down the road.  

Tristana sat back in the booth, her fingers playing with the spoon. This was not a good idea, but who cares? It’s all good fun for now.