Under the Boardwalk: A Dazzling Collection of All New Summertime Love Stories (49 page)

Good. She loved having the inn to herself, if only for a little while.

Once in the kitchen, Jody started the coffee—she'd use the big pot today, since they were booked almost to capacity—and turned her thoughts to the breakfasts she would prepare. As the inn's chef and self-proclaimed kitchen queen, she was responsible for working with the owner, Laura Bishop, to plan menus and cook the meals as well. Although Laura employed extra help in the summers and on peak weekends throughout the year, Jody preferred to do most of the work herself. She took great pride in all of her work, but particularly her exceptional regional cooking, which reflected Maryland's history and bounty. There were those who swore her cream of she-crab soup had been devised through magic alone, and others who made trips to the inn several times throughout the season in search of her crab cakes and her beach plum cobbler. Her Lady Baltimore cake had become somewhat of a legend. Over the past eighteen months, more and more happy couples had come to Bishop's Cove to tie the knot there in the lovely gardens of the historic inn, drawn, many claimed, as much by Jody's catering as by the beautiful, romantic location by the sea.

Humming happily, Jody glanced over the worksheet she had prepared for herself the night before. There would be sixteen at breakfast this morning. The Walkers' (the Rose Room) and their friends, the Calhouns' (the Chinese Room), had booked a charter boat for the morning and would be stopping by for a quick cup of coffee only, since the day trip provided a light breakfast on the bay. Jody reached into an overhead cupboard and pulled out a small silver thermos. Gordon Chandler, a long-term guest who was attempting to salvage cargo from a sunken ship off the coast of Bishop's Cove, would be going out early, and he always appreciated the extra cup of coffee that Jody sent with him. He was planning on diving that morning with his crew, she'd heard him mention the night before, and while Jody hummed, she tried to imagine what it would be like to dive into the dark, unseen depths of the ocean, to encounter… who knew what?

She shivered slightly. There had been a time, long ago, when she had been more adventurous, when she would have jumped at the opportunity to dive, to explore a sunken ship and seek its treasures. The passage of time and a total devotion to her job had seemed to banish the thoughts of such daring pursuits from her life's itinerary.

Not completely, and maybe not forever
, she told herself as she removed a stainless steel bowl of pale brown eggs from the refrigerator and set it on the counter next to a square tray stacked with bundles of spring-green asparagus.
One week from now, I will be stretched out on a blanket on the beach at Ocean Point, New Jersey
. Of course, that little trip couldn't compare with the thrill of deep sea diving, but still, it would be a week away from the same old, same old.

She'd planned the trip at the urging of an old high school friend, Natalie Evans, one of the crew with whom Jody had spent many a blissful summer afternoon lying on the beach, greased and oiled and ready to tan. Natalie, who had turned thirty in May, had thought it would be fun to plan a reunion of sorts on their old beach, and had assured Jody that she'd line up the old crowd and they'd spend a long, happy weekend reliving old times. No spouses, no kids, just a bunch of thirty-year-olds who had spent much of their teen years together. Jody smiled just thinking about seeing everyone again. It had been so long…

Of course, it would have been even more fun if she'd been able to rent the house her family used to stay in every summer, but a room in that brand-new motel right there on the beach would be fine, the perfect choice for her first trip back in fourteen years. And there would be other advantages to staying in a motel, she rationalized. She wouldn't have to clean or cook. And as much as she loved cooking, she was taking this long-awaited vacation to get as far away from her real life as she could.

When her father's job transfer to Nebraska midway through her junior year of high school took her from the central New Jersey home where she'd grown up, Jody had been certain that the best years of her life were behind her. Finding it difficult to make friends so late in the year, she found herself spending more and more time at home with her mother and her grandmother, a recent widow, who had come for an extended stay with her only daughter. Grandmother Jenny Rose, a true daughter of the South, was an exceptional cook, and was more than happy to teach her granddaughter everything she knew. By the time she graduated from high school the following June, Jody had discovered that she had more than just a casual knack for cooking.

Scrapping her plans for an accounting degree, Jody enrolled in The Restaurant School in Philadelphia, and it was soon clear that she had made the right choice. She stayed in Philadelphia and went to work with a world-class chef, at first as a low-level assistant, and later, having learned all from him that she could, moved on to what would be her last job in the city. Robert Orloff, the owner of the trendy new restaurant, Flora, took Jody under his wing, where she had remained for several years.

In time, Jody had had enough of the cold, icy Pennsylvania winters. She'd thought to drive south, maybe to Savannah or to Atlanta. Someplace warm. Besides, she'd grown to love Southern cooking, having learned so much from first her grandmother, then from Robert, who'd grown up in the area of Virginia that sat at the very end of the Delmarva peninsula. What would be more natural than a move south? Almost twenty-seven that year, Jody packed up her belongings and her resume, the glowing recommendations to several premier chefs provided by Robert, and the fat file of recipes she had developed over the years, and set out to find adventure—or, at the very least, a place to hang her hat and her pots.

A serious summer storm had forced Jody to seek shelter just as she crossed from Delaware into Maryland, and the shelter she found was the Bishop's Inn. And the rest, as they say, is history. When the inn's cook was unable to make it through the storm to get to work, Jody offered to cook dinner for the small crowd of fellow travelers who were similarly stranded. Laura Bishop had been so impressed with Jody's creativity on such short notice that she had offered Jody a job that very night. When she threw in a suite of rooms on the third floor of the lovely old inn, Jody jumped at it. She had always loved the beach, and the chance to live year-round so close to the ocean had appealed to her. Not that she had much time to spend lounging on the sand these days, but at least she could carve out an occasional afternoon run or early evening stroll along the water's edge.

And come this time tomorrow, I will be on my way to my all-time favorite beach, where I will spend a glorious week
. She grinned as she poured cream into a spatterware pitcher for the breakfast buffet.
Finally, after all these years
—
Ocean Point, New Jersey, here I come
!

"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.