is a bloodsport, and she stalks her quarry mercilessly.
She handed me the bags, “Voila’!”
I managed to muster up an, “Oh Evie, you shouldn’t have...”
“Indulge me!’” she exclaimed, and I did. Diving into them to her obvious delight, I pulled out some of the most delicate, filmy and romantic designer sundresses imaginable.
“Ooh...” I sighed, flipping through the pile, “Chloe… Dior… these are absolutely beautiful! ”
“Marina,” she sighed dreamily as I held up a particularly lovely turquoise frock, “With your eyes and hair, you’ll be an absolute vision in that.”
I couldn’t argue. With her exquisite taste and expert eye, Evie never failed to choose clothes that flattered my figure and enhanced my coloring.
There was a loud rap on the door that sent Pierre and Fifi into a barking frenzy.
“Dad must be ready,” I pouted.
Evie had insisted that we take a car out of her collection for our drive down to Aptos.
Looking out the window on the beautiful summer day, she decided that it absolutely must be a convertible.
Evie flung open the door to receive my father while I busied myself packing away her latest shopping excesses. The little dogs lunged at him, snapping and snarling in a comic attempt at viciousness. They seemed to know he was there to take me from them.
Dad looked down with an amused face. “Call off the hounds,” he smiled at Evie, greeting her with a brusque embrace. He sighed with resignation when he saw all the shopping bags I was gathering. My father has always been mystified by the sheer quantity of expensive clothing that Evie showers on me; he simply can’t comprehend the point in all the artifice of fashion. Despite his disapproval, he never complained about it too much, for Evie served a purpose. I’m sure he was relieved to abdicate the responsibility of dressing a daughter.
“Martin,” Evie turned to him fervently, “You must be careful out there in that Godforsaken place. You’ll be in our hearts until your safe return.” She took him by both hands and stared at him intensely with her crystal gaze, “I know you’ll do your very best for those poor people.”
“Thank you Evie,” he said solemnly.
She gathered herself with some effort, “I’ve had Boris bring the Phantom around and load Marina’s luggage. Now… scoot before you make me cry and ruin my face!”
“Goodbye Evie,” said Dad.
“Thank you for all the beautiful things,” I hugged her close, enveloped in a comforting cloud of her perfume, “I’ll call to let you know how everything fits. Maybe my cousin will drive me up for a visit...”
Dad ushered me out the door and into the elevator down to the garage. A gleaming silver convertible pulled up, with a giant of a man emerging from behind the wheel.
“Morning Boris,” said my father with a friendly nod.
Boris nodded a greeting in return and winked at me. He was enormous, a hugely tall and heavily muscled colossus. His broad shoulders, thick neck and bald head gave him a frightening appearance, but I knew that looks could be deceiving. Boris was a gentle giant, the ever present guardian of our building, possessed of an eagle eye that continually scanned for unwelcome intruders.
“Vatch your back sir,” he said in his thick Russian accent as he held the door open for my dad.
“Thanks Boris, I will,” Dad replied with confidence, heaving a couple of shopping bags into the back seat before climbing in.
Boris opened the passenger door for me, “Cheers up kiddo,” he said, patting my head with a huge meaty hand, “Aptos is not so far avay.”
I slid into the seat and gestured for him to come closer, reaching out to rub his bald head for good luck like I used to when I was little. His face split into a grin and his booming laugh echoed in my ears as we pulled away.
We cruised down a ribbon of road that wound along the California coast, sailing through the warm summer air. The wind whipped my ponytail around, lashing my cheeks with long brown strands as I looked out across the endless sea. The water sparkled with infinite shades of blue and green; it grew darker right at the horizon line and was sliced in two by the sun’s shimmering reflection. It would make a nice painting, I thought... maybe I would start one tonight.
“I bet you’re gonna enjoy high school,” my father raised his voice over the wind, glancing over at me as he tried to gauge my mood.
I pretended not to hear him as I