After selecting appropriate apparel, for Wren a black one-piece bathing suit high on her hips and low in the back with a flowered wrap-around skirt, woven grass sandals and big sunglasses, for Nathaniel, a red Hawaiian shirt and white swim trunks not much longer that his normal cut-offs, they walked slowly down the narrow, sandy street toward the beach.  In one hand Nathaniel carried two plastic shopping bags with something green showing through the white.

            "What do you have there?" Wren asked, looking pointedly at his burden.

            "I found it in the 'fridge," he replied.  "Asparagus, olive oil, lemons, fresh dill and some bamboo skewers.  It was in the bags so I figured I was supposed to take it as trade."

            "What is this 'trade'?"

            "Oh, everyone brings whatever they can afford to the party and in return, you get to eat and drink whatever you want," he explained.

            The squeal stunned Wren for an instant but the sight of a lithe, tanned and very pretty girl about her own age wearing the smallest of bikinis hurling herself into Nathaniel's arms had her canceling gravity on the girl before she realized what she'd done.  Already in motion, the girl didn't notice the change and hit Nathaniel like a limpet, her arms around his neck in a fierce hug.  Wren caught herself and allowed gravity to return to normal but half consciously prepared to shift things in the other direction if that girl decided to kiss him.

            She needn't have worried.  Nathaniel was as prepared as she so that when the girl's lips, aimed at his own, landed, they hit his cheek instead.  He caught Wren's eye with a look of apology as well as extreme discomfort.  Still Wren did not relax.  Around them a crowd of partially clothed 'beach people' descended like a swarm of gnats and more than one scantily clad 'beach bunny' appeared to be considering an action similar to the first.

            "Hi, Keri," Nathaniel said to the girl around his neck then, added "This is Wren."

            The girl, Keri, looked at him uncomprehendingly then down at Wren.

            "Oh," she said, sliding down Nathaniel's body to the sand.  "Hi."

            For a moment Wren froze, memories of Jessy like a fresh wound to her heart but the girl smiled shyly and offered her hand.

            "Nat saved me from drowning last year," she explained,  "when I first moved here and he's been a good friend ever since."

            Wren accepted the hand. "Pleased to meet you," she replied.

            People greeted Nathaniel and Wren was introduced to what seemed like hundreds before the party returned to normal.  Nathaniel handed his bags to a plump little woman of about fifty with a grin and a peck on the cheek, Bea, if Wren recalled the introductions, before turning his full attention to her.

            "Gets a little bit crazy around here sometimes," he said with a half smile.

            "How often does this go on?" she asked, taking in the Frisbees flying back and forth like darting birds.  At least three volleyball games were in progress and a long line of people bobbed on the ocean out past the surf line.  Two began to paddle like mad to catch a wave.

            "Just about all the time," Nathaniel replied.  "I can't remember a good day going by without something springing up.  Heck I've seen the party in the rain and on cold, for San Diego, windy days."

            Along the boardwalk people of all ages skated, skateboarded or biked through the multitude of strollers, with more than a few jogging along with headphones lost in their own world.  Not far down the beach a cluster of people, oiled up, lifted weights and posed for passersby.  Not all were guys, Wren noted.

            "You grew up here?" she said, half in wonder.

            "Yup," he said.  "I've logged more time on a surfboard in that ocean than veteran pilots in jumbo jets."

            On the opposite side of the highway of people from the beach garishly painted stores advertised everything from swimwear to scuba gear to pizza including tacky souvenirs.  The effect was chaotic to someone more accustom to pastoral English or French country sides.  It was vibrant and exciting, so intensely alive.

            "Can we ..." Wren began, looking wistfully at the line of shops.

            Nathaniel grinned and gently took her hand.

            "Sure," he said.