"I left frozen dough in the big freezer," Jody was saying as she stashed her two suitcases and a shoulder bag into the trunk of the sports car—convertible, of course—that she had rented to drive to her destination.

No big, clunky Buick for this trip.

Fearing that her twelve-year-old sedan would not make it to Dewey Beach up the road, never mind all the way to New Jersey, Jody had decided to rent something more reliable for the next two weeks and hang the cost, live a little, a small voice inside her had pleaded when she arrived at the agency's lot, which had been lined with zippy little numbers, their tops down, their leather new, their chrome shiny enough to see your face in.

The urge to feel young, to feel carefree and adventurous, took over her normally sensible nature.

Yesterday morning, she had rented the convertible.

Yesterday afternoon, she had her hair highlighted with subtle blond streaks.

Last night, she bought two bikinis and a little red silk dress that looked like a slightly longer version of the ever popular tank top.

"You got the body for it, babe," Marlene at Dede's Boutique had crowed as Jody stepped from the dressing room in the dark blue bikini. " 'Bout time you showed it off."

And then somehow Marlene had talked her into the red dress.

"Hey, you're going on vacation," Marlene had nodded her head, her beehive hair swaying to and fro. "You might as well live a little. Kick up your heels, Jody. Besides, that dress will look great with a tan."

It was certainly different from anything she'd ever owned in her life. It was feminine. It was sexy. It fit her like a glove, albeit a somewhat snug one.

The practical, workaholic Jody returned the dress to the sale rack and turned her back on it, but still, her little inner voice had pricked at her like a thorn.

This was a dress for a woman who was adventurous and unafraid to take chances. A woman with long, sun-streaked hair who drove a convertible and who had the time to indulge herself with days spent lounging on the beach, soaking up the late July sun. A carefree, confident woman like the one an adolescent Jody had intended to grow up to be.

The Jody who just that day had had her hair highlighted and rented a convertible added the dress to the pile on the counter.

"Jody, we'll manage just fine," Laura was saying as she opened the door of the slick little sports car. "After all, I am a decent cook. Our guests will be well fed. Maybe not quite as well as you might do it, but no one will feel cheated. I promise. Go and have a wonderful time. Visit with your old friends and get reacquainted. Have a life. Have a fling." Laura tucked Jody behind the wheel and slammed the door. "Just don't forget to come back."

"You have the address and phone number of where I'll be staying…"

"I do. And if anyone threatens not to pay their bill until they've had some of your exquisite flan, I'll call." Laura leaned over and kissed Jody on the cheek. "Otherwise, just for one sweet week, I want you to forget that the Bishop's Inn exists. Enjoy yourself. You're long overdue…"

"I am, aren't I?" Jody nodded as if the idea had only just occurred to her.

"Most definitely." Laura stepped back to permit Jody to make a U-turn across Sea View Avenue.

Jody waved as she sped off past the inn, slid her sunglasses on, and headed north.

Sea breezes filled the car every mile of the way along the coast drive, and she reveled in the feeling of freedom, of anticipation.!!!Life should hold more times like this, she told herself. All work and no play has made Jody a very dull girl. Well, not for the next seven days. From this moment on, I will kick up my heels. I will soak up the sun. And maybe, just for a little while, I will be that exotic creature I used to dream of being…

And oh, to be returning to Ocean Point, after all these years!

She grinned, thinking back to her last summer there, the year she had turned sixteen.

Life began at sixteen, by unanimous decree of parents and Ocean Point tradition.

At sixteen, you could date for real. At sixteen, you could wear a bikini—only the "fast" girls wore them at fifteen, and Lord knew you didn't want to be called that. At sixteen, you could go to Docker's Amusement Pier after 10 P.M., when it would close to the "younger" kids, and you could ride the roller coaster, where you'd sit close to the boy next to you and cling to him like a terrified monkey. At sixteen, you could stay out till midnight every night of the week if you felt like it, maybe even later on the weekends. At sixteen, life had been wonderful, magical, endless fun, full of promise.

Young faces of friends, some she hadn't thought about in years, now appeared so dearly in her mind's eye. What, she wondered, might they look like now, after fourteen years had passed? Other than Natalie, she'd not really kept in close touch with anyone, though over the years she had wondered what had become of those girls she had shared her adolescent dreams with. Well, soon she would find out, would spend an entire weekend catching up.

Jody leaned on the railing of the ferry as she made the crossing from Lewes, Delaware, to Cape May, New Jersey. Off the bow, a gull circled downward to the surface of the bay and emerged with a small fish in its black beak. Several hundred feet away, a small flotilla of sailboats swayed gracefully in the wind, and beyond, the power boats cut choppy grids in tic-tac-toe fashion across each other's wake. Farther out toward the Atlantic, larger boats headed to sea. Straight ahead lay Cape May, and farther up the coast, her destination. Sighing, she turned her face up to the sun to catch its warming rays, to let the sweet salty bay breezes swirl around her.!!!I wonder if The Osprey is still on the corner of West Bay and Corbin's Lane, if their chocolate milkshakes are still the best on the New Jersey shore… if Carney's General Store is still selling Playboy magazine with plain brown covers… if you can still buy plastic sandals and rough-textured beach towels and garish lipsticks at the drugstore…if the rides on the pier are still as scary as they used to be…

As the ferry began to dock, she pulled a map from her shoulder bag and checked her route for about the fiftieth time in the past two days. Satisfied that she could indeed find her way, she refolded the map and tucked it away. If all went well, she would be in Ocean Point in less than an hour. A tickle of anticipation rippled through her. Having come this far, she was anxious now for the journey to end.

The first thing that Jody noticed as she drove over the old drawbridge that led onto the island was that new marinas had popped up everywhere along the bay side of the town. Driving those first few streets into Ocean Point, it became apparent that the sleepy little seaside village of her childhood memory had been discovered. Developers had strung a line of new townhouses overlooking the marshes and constructed a house on every open lot they could get their greedy hands on. Coming to the intersection of West Bay and South Avenue, she pulled to the side of the road and just sat while she got her bearings.!!!If this is West Bay, the oldfirehouse should be on that corner, she reasoned, and if that is South Avenue, there should be a park with swings and slides right there.

No firehouse, no park, though the sign clearly announced the street names.

Well, it had been fourteen years…

Jody eased back, into the travel lane, took a right, and cruised down Bay to Ocean Boulevard in search of the Sea View Motel, her home for the next week.

As promised, her room overlooked the ocean. She dumped her luggage on the king-sized bed and drew back the curtains, opened the sliding glass door, and stepped out onto the small, railed balcony to drink in the sight. Directly below her window, round tables shaded by tropically colored umbrellas were placed here and there around a glistening pool of pale blue water the same color as the sky overhead. Beyond the motel's stucco wall, the boardwalk separated the shops, houses, and restaurants from the beach. And the beach itself, well, that was pure New Jersey, with sand slightly darker and just a little coarser than that found on the Maryland shore. Even with the recent years' erosion, the expanse of beach was deeper than the beach in Bishop's Cove, allowing more happy vacationers to lay their towels and blankets side by side and end to end for as far as the eye could see. Here and there the lifeguard stands rose above the crowd, two figures upon the benches where only one had sat in the days of Jody's youth. More bathers, more lifeguards…

And Lord knows, there are more bathers, lined up like sardines in a can, she marveled, shaking her head at the sheer number of people on the beach.

Stepping back into the room and closing the screen behind her, Jody debated what to do first. Natalie and the others would not arrive until later in the day. Her hungry stomach decided for her. She would walk on the boardwalk and find a place to have lunch.

The air on the boardwalk felt dose and hot, being trapped, as it was, between the buildings on one side and the sea on the other. With the stagnant land breeze came nippy little green-headed flies, and more than one person strolling past was swatting at the back of a leg or the top of an arm. Two blocks down, Jody found herself heading into a delicatessen just to escape the ferocity of the flies. She took a seat at the counter rather than wait for a table, and turned toward the doorway to watch the tourists pass by.

While waiting for her turkey sandwich, she picked up a copy of the local newspaper that someone had left on the seat next to her and skimmed through it. Advertisements for bathing suits and restaurants outnumbered the ads for local amusements, but not by much. Fascinated, Jody realized that Ocean Point now boasted not one, but two movie complexes that showed ten films at a time. Years ago, there had not been enough people in town to fill one such theater.

And pizza parlors! There were ads for a dozen or more.

Whale and dolphin cruises on the ocean, a cruise around the island, a cruise to Cape May. Seems as if one could cruise to just about anyplace.

Kayaks, jet skis, wave runners, sailboats, bicycles, inline skates, surfboards—all for rent at convenient locations along the boardwalk.

Fishing tournaments, deep-sea charters, sailboat races, summer basketball and baseball leagues—both male and female—bingo games and buses to the casinos in Atlantic City.

Oyster bars and salad bars, dock bars where one could sit and watch the other patrons arrive in their boats, all the while enjoying dinner and calypso music.

Jody shook her head. What had happened to the peaceful little town she remembered?

She finished her sandwich (a little on the dry side, the bread a commercial brand loaded with preservatives to give it that soft and squishy feel) and side order of so-so cole slaw (too much mayonnaise, not enough onion) and frowned. You'd never get such fare at the Bishop's Inn, but then again, this being a boardwalk deli and the Bishop's Inn being, well, the Bishop's Inn, perhaps, she reminded herself, comparisons were unfair. She folded the paper and left it on the stool where she'd found it, paid her check, and walked back out onto the boardwalk. She'd take a walk, then maybe stretch out on one of those lounge chairs near the pool for a while, the beach being too crowded. Besides, she wanted to be around when Natalie arrived.

Jody had intended to confine her walk to the boards, but finding herself at the very end, decided to venture into town. She was anxious to see some of her old haunts. She went straight down Ocean Boulevard to Townsend, to the corner where the old drugstore once stood. Hands on her hips, she stood on the sidewalk outside and watched the steady flow of tourists as they flocked through the electronic doors of the block-constructed discount store. She wondered if Carney's General Store had fared any better. She headed down the street to the first traffic light and around the corner. Wonder of wonders, the old place still stood intact.

The same weathered brown shingles outside, the same bell over the door inside, the well-scuffed wooden floor underfoot. The old Formica counter where groups of girls gathered to sip sodas and gossip, the neat rows of produce from local farms, the small stationery department, two aisles of hardware, a meat counter, beach toys… oh, it was all so much as it had remained in her memory that for a long moment she thought perhaps she was dreaming.

"Are you being helped?" A young man of about twenty asked.

"Oh…" His voice had stirred her from her reverie. "I was looking for…" she glanced around for something she might need, then, spying the long rack of paperback books at the front of the store, said, "… something to read."

"Right up front," he pointed.

"Thank you," she smiled.

Jody thumbed through this book and that, looking for something that would strike her fancy, all the while pleased and amazed that this little piece of Ocean Point had remained intact while so much else had changed.

"Who owns this store now?" She asked as she paid for her selection, the latest romance by a favorite author.

"The Carney family still owns the store," the pleasant young man replied as he counted out her change.

"Really? Still?"

"Yes. It's been in the family for over eighty years," the boy said proudly.

'Which members of the family are still here, if I might ask?"

"My dad, Steve—I'm Steve, too—and my aunt Beth own it now."

A sudden image of Steve Carney, at nineteen the dream man of all the girls who were sixteen that last year, invaded Jody's memory. He'd been such a handsome thing, and wild, a real daredevil and a great athlete. Steve had been the only one who could swim out to Heron Island and back, no mean feat.

"Did you know my dad?" The young man was asking.

"Umm, sort of," she replied, wondering if daydreams counted. "We used to summer here, a long time ago. My family did, that is."

"Yeah, lots of people come back. They all stop in."

"I was almost surprised to see that Carney's is still here. Everything else seems to have changed.'

"We've had a lot of offers to sell, but my dad and my aunt aren't interested. My brother and I figure that someday we'll be running it with a cousin or two." Steve Junior handed her the bag that held her purchase.

"Then I'll have to make it a point to stop back in about twenty years and see how you're doing." Jody smiled and turned toward the door, wondering what Beth looked like these days. She'd been a short, bubbly chatterbox when their paths had last crossed.

Once outside, Jody debated her options. She could check out that new outdoor mall of shops near the marina. Or she could walk over to the bay side and out onto the old piers and watch the fishermen, or she could grab a towel and see if she could find a vacant spot on the beach. Or she could head back to the motel and soak up a little sun on one of those comfy-looking lounges by the pool.

She tapped her foot, debating, but not for long. It was too hot to shop, too hot to walk to the bay, she reasoned, and the beach had been overly crowded by noon. She'd opt for the motel pool. Tomorrow, she'd venture out early with Natalie and Lindsey and Mary Anne and the others and stake a claim for a prime section of beach where they'd sun themselves on blankets. Right now she had a great new book to read, a brand-new bikini to slip into, and enough of the afternoon left to enjoy both while she waited for her friends to arrive.