First Impressions

By Chris Corso

June 6, 1972: Christopher Lorenzo waited patiently for his grandmother at the Palm Beach airport, or rather, he was being as patient as a nine year old boy could be. It was all very perplexing to him; he couldn't understand why his parents seemed so intent on making his life miserable. Since his parents divorce, he'd been shuttled between his father on the east coast and his mother on the west coast. Chris knew his mother was a famous actress, but that fact had long since become irrelevant to him. The only relevant fact was that his parents didn't want him around. He'd been living with his mother for the past three months, but "living with" was far to generous. He lived with servants and his mother never seemed to be around. Suddenly, a week ago, his mother was called to a movie location outside the US. The original plan was for Chris to go and stay with his father, but this wouldn't work either because his father was currently on a business trip and wouldn't be back for a number of weeks. So, the only recourse was to send Chris off to stay with his grandmother. Christopher Lorenzo wished he could stay with his grandmother permanently. Chris turned as he heard his name being called, "Christopher, Christopher." He smiled as he saw his grandmother Rose walking toward him.

June 6, 1992: Chris Lorenzo never felt this way before as he was stared into Rita Lee Lance's eyes. She was his best friend and partner, but her touch made his pulse race and he felt the electricity moving between them. He could feel her hands trembling in his. She was feeling it too, the soul search. Dick Plaismier had asked.

"Remember the day you first met. What did you think? Do you still think it?"

Chris smiled, but his eyes widened as a half remembered memory surged to the top of his conscious.

June 6, 1972: Rita Lee Fontana held on tightly to the hand of her new, and she hoped last, foster mother, Sue Lance. Sue and her husband Tom adopted Rita almost six months before. They were wonderful to her and treated her like she was their own. Rita's life had been so unstable since her father's death and only now was she beginning to get on with her life. However, it would be many more years before she'd finally put her father to rest. That was all in the future and for now she was safe, loved, and happy.

Sue Lance looked down at her new daughter and smiled. Rita was a wonderful child: smart, loving, obedient, and amazingly strong. In fact, Sue had never known a stronger person, adult or child-Rita was a survivor.

Sue gently prodded her daughter, "honey, you have to make up your mind. Which dress do you prefer? The blue or the flowered one?" Sue held up both and Rita studied them with care. Showing the first signs of the traits that would make her such a good detective.

"The blue one please," Rita said with total certainty. Sue nodded and led Rita toward the waiting cashier.

"Mommy," Rita said hesitantly; that word still sounded strange to Rita's ears, but Sue was overjoyed when Rita called her mommy. She went on, "where's daddy?"

"He'll be meeting us at the restaurant," Sue replied. Rita nodded and held on to her mother's hand as they left the store.

June 6, 1992: Rita Lance used all her willpower to not jump up and flee from the feelings that were flooding her consciousness. Chris was her best friend; the truest friend she'd ever known. He made her laugh when nobody else could, he made her feel special and she felt safe with him. She knew he'd never hurt her, yet he also scared her.

Now remember a time when you have had great fun Dick Plasmier went on.

Rita smiled, her friendship with Chris meant so much to her. It meant everything.

Now remember a sad time!"

Rita's face saddened.

How do you feel about each other today?"

'You're my best friend Chris,' she thought.

Now think about the future!"

At this Rita stiffened and her blood turned to ice. The wonderful feelings of peace and happiness vanished and were replaced by feelings of loss and loneliness. She dropped Chris's hands and looked away. She didn't want him to see the tears in her eyes.

June 6, 1972: Rose studied her grandson surreptitiously. He sat in the front room of her house, staring absently out the window. She called softly, "Christopher, why don't you go out and play. I'm sure there are some boys your age in the neighborhood." Chris looked up at her and smiled. He picked up his baseball glove and walked out the door. His grandmother's prophecy proved correct and after only a short time Chris found a sand lot baseball game. Chris never had problems making friends, only keeping them. Moving around so much meant making friends quickly was a vital skill. So this, combined with his skill with sports, allowed him to make several new friends. The boys played for a time, but finally called it quits. Chris said goodbye to his new friends, and made his way back to his grandmother's house. However, the day was beautiful, so Chris lingered for a time in the park. His daydreams were interrupted by the sounds of giggling-girls giggling Chris realized. He walked toward the noise and saw a number of girls playing. They were of little interest to him, however, he did notice one girl, a brunette, around his own age. She was at once part of the group and not part of the group, just like him.

June 6, 1992: Chris felt Rita pull back and the suddenness of the break made him lose his bearings. Chris was startled but managed to remain in character. "Rita, honey, we were so close."

"But we didn't," she replied not looking at him, "I don't understand it."

The next thing Chris knew Rita was being dragged away by Dick. The cop in Chris knew it was a good idea (they had to find out what was going on in this place) but another side of Chris wanted to know what happened. What did they feel? What would it mean for their future? Chris was alone with his thoughts, and taking a deep breath, tried to make sense of what just happened.

June 6, 1972: Rita Lee Fontana was enjoying playing with her friends, but felt a bit out of place too, she was popular, and at the same time, aloof. Nobody seemed to mind. She glanced away for an instant and noticed a boy watching her and her friends. He had a baseball glove and ball, and seemed to be alone. She would have turned away, but for some reason she continued to stare at him. He grinned at her and she smiled back; it seemed the most natural thing in the world to do. But the moment passed as the boy walked away. She watched him until he vanished from sight.

June 6, 1992: Rita lay in her bed trying to regain her composure. "What is wrong with me?" She thought out loud. "Get a hold of yourself Rita! Oh, I feel so weird..." 'Am I being drugged?' She asked herself.

Rita took several long, deep breaths, and managed to regain her composure. She couldn't understand why she was so upset. It didn't make sense! Until this moment she'd understood what Chris meant to her, but now-now she wasn't so sure. Something within her had changed, or had it? Maybe she'd always felt this way, but denied it to herself-to him. Rita sat up in bed and a sigh escaped from deep within her. She loved Chris, she knew that much, but she wasn't in love with him—right?

Chris bounced out of his bed and moved rapidly toward his door. I have to see her! Chris froze. It wasn't the right time, not the right time at all. Dammit! Chris never felt so miserable in his whole life. Not even after Rita was shot or when he found out about her aneurysm. Being with Rita was always so easy. Just having her with him meant so much to him: her smile, her laugh, her beauty, her scent, her bod.. "What are you thinking Lorenzo! She's your partner!" With a huff Chris threw himself back on his bed. He'd see her tomorrow, and after this case ended, he'd make sure they talked about what happened.