beach glass. As I stared out over the horizon I had a strong urge to go surfing again.
One blustery fall day I rambled home after a long walk, surprised to find Abby sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, sobbing. I paused for a moment, shocked at such an incongruous sight. Sweet, gentle Abby, who had a seemingly infinite capacity for happiness and patience... crying?
“Aunt Abby, what happened?” I blurted out, startling her. She wiped her eyes, struggling for composure.
“Oh Marina,” she sniffed, “I’ve made a terrible mistake– and now...” She started crying again, “Cruz hates me.”
I sat down and took her hand, “That’s not possible, Aunt Abby,” I said sincerely. She gestured to a letter sitting on the table. It was addressed to Cruz, from a law firm in Argentina.
The letter stated that Cruz Vanderpool was one of the beneficiaries of the estate of Federico Acosta, who had passed away the prior month. It requested that Cruz contact the office to arrange for the disbursement of the funds.
“What is this?” I asked Abby, “What does it mean?”
Abby looked up at me with red rimmed eyes, “Federico, is... was… Cruz’s father.”
“But I thought he was... I mean, I thought he died before Cruz was born.”
“I lied about that,” she said, gulping down a sob, “And now Cruz is so upset...” I was stunned, and took a moment for it to sink in, “I don’t understand, what happened?” Abby took a shuddering breath and told me her story. She was eighteen, a college student at the university in Santa Cruz. She had fallen in love with Federico, a visiting professor of Latin American literature. He was much older and more sophisticated than her, and before she knew it she was in way over her head. Abby found herself pregnant with Cruz when she discovered that he was married with a family in Argentina.
“He tried to give me money,” she said, “He didn’t want me to keep the baby. When he left I didn’t know what to do. Martin came to the rescue.”
“What did dad do?” I asked.
Abby smiled through her tears, “He bought me this place, and helped me get back on my feet.” She sighed, “When Cruz was old enough to ask... I just thought it was for the best. I never expected to hear from him ever again.”
“How did Cruz take it?” I wondered, worrying about him. She looked at me in anguish.
“Would you go see how he is?” she asked, blinking at me with tortured eyes. I leaned over and gave her a hug.
“It’ll be alright,” I said.
I went down the hall and knocked gently on Cruz’s door.
“Go away!” he yelled.
“Cruz, it’s me, Marina.”
He opened the door a crack and I could tell that he’d been crying. “Did she tell you?” I nodded, and he let me in. The letter had come as a tremendous shock to him. He felt betrayed and confused.
“My father has been alive all this time and he never even wanted to see me...”
“You don’t know that,” I said gently, “Maybe he was afraid to hurt his family, or–” Cruz looked at me sarcastically, “He knew about me, he could have picked up a phone.”
“He remembered you in his will. He didn’t have to do that.”
“Guilty conscience,” he said dismissively.
“Cruz, your mom feels terrible. She was only a kid. She was our age...” He sighed, “I know, it just came as a total shock– to find out your whole life has been a lie.” I knew exactly how he felt.
“She was only trying to protect you,” I said, thinking about my dad.
“You’re lucky you’re dad never lied to you!” he cried.
I looked at him sadly, “You never know.”
He was starting to look more sad than mad, “I knew they never got married or anything, but she told me he died in a car crash!” Cruz emoted passionately, reminding me of Evie, “It’s just so completely out of the blue.”
“I know what you need! Come with me to visit my Aunt Evie. It’s impossible to feel bad around her, and we need to show her your clothes.” We hatched a plan to go to the city on Saturday, and he seemed to feel a little better. I turned to leave, “Cruz, you should talk to your mom.”
“I will,” he said.
I went back out to find Abby sitting in the garden. She looked up hopefully, “How is he?”
“He’ll be fine. He just needs some time.”
She smiled wanly, fidgeting with a string of