I was curled up on my side, reading in bed, when I heard a big truck rumble down our street and stop with a whoosh of brakes. A minute later Cruz burst into my room with bright eyes.
“Marina!” he cried excitedly, “there’s a huge truck out front–they said they have a delivery for you!”
We rushed out to see Abby signing a clipboard as a couple of men wheeled a dolly holding a box the size of a small mattress up the driveway. They deposited it on the porch and left.
“Were you expecting something?” Abby asked, suspiciously eyeing the enormous package taking up the entire porch.
“No.” I shook my head. “Is it for me?”
“That’s what it says here,” she replied, looking up at me. “It’s from a surf shop!”
Cruz and I set about opening the box. Inside was a beautiful woman’s wet suit in my size, along with two surfboards. I could smell Evie all over this one, and I smiled wryly.
“I told Evie about maybe learning to surf.” I looked over at Cruz, who was checking out the wetsuit.
“Marina, this is really expensive,” he said, impressed. “Look at how well it’s made,” he enthused, admiring the construction. I didn’t know anything at all about wetsuits, but I knew that Evie would only go for the top of the line. It was mostly black with teal insets along the arms and sides. There were separate boots, gloves, and a hood that matched it.
“I guess we don’t need to hunt for a used one now.” Abby looked at me, shaking her head. “Marina, you are one lucky girl.”
“Believe me, I know!” I said. We pulled out the surfboards and laid them on the porch. There was a big one that was longer and heavier alongside a shorter, thinner board with more fins attached to the bottom.
“We better put those in the backyard,” Abby said. “Why did she send two?” she wondered.
“If she can’t decide on something she always gets one of each,” I said, laughing.
“Must be nice,” said Cruz, as he helped me move the boards around to the side of the house.
“Thanks,” I said, heading back to the porch.
“Marina?” he asked.
I paused. “Yeah?”
“I, um, overheard some gossip that you got in a fight with Heather today.”
I slumped down and turned to face him. “It wasn’t really a fight.” I grimaced. “It was more like I kinda threatened her a little.”
“Oh no, you didn’t,” he said teasingly.
“I’m afraid I did,” I said gravely.
“Why?” he asked.
I pressed my lips together. “She’s just a nasty piece of work,” I shrugged. “And someone needed to point that out to her.”
Cruz shook his head at me sadly. “They’re all like that–there’s no point in getting them all fired up.”
“What about personal satisfaction?” I winked at him and walked away.
I broke down the giant box, putting it with the recyclables at the side of the house. Gathering up the wetsuit, I headed into my room where I looked over the accessories, trying on the gloves and boots. I stripped down to my underwear and squirmed to climb into the suit, wrinkling my nose at the strong smell of rubber. It had a zipper up the back that was hard to reach but after a struggle I managed to get it pulled up.
It fit like a glove, and I spun around in the mirror, inspecting the way it clung to my figure. It was a little awkward to move around in, restricting my motions as I rotated my shoulders and stretched. It was so hot in the suit I started getting overheated immediately. I could see how this would help out in the cold water.
I looked in the mirror as a slow grin spread across my face. Now I could go back to see Lorelei! I could find out for sure if what she said was true. Best of all, I might find out more about my mother. The thought was so exciting I nearly jumped for joy.
Instead I called Evie.
“Thank you so much!” I squealed. “I love it!”
“Honey it’s my pleasure,” she said, sounding happy.
“But why did you send two surfboards?” I asked.
“The nice young man at the surf shop wanted to know if you used a long board or a short board. I thought you might want to try both so I had him deliver the best one in each size.”
“Evie, you have no idea what this means to me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of letting you go on your date in an ugly old outfit.”
“It’s magnificent,” I said, “and it’s not a date. It’s a swim lesson.”
“Whatever you say dear. Just have fun, and remember two words–”