On this art friends mid-afternoon Monday, Edelira and Juanjose were on her mind. He had his own band in the Mission District, where he was a known drummer with an audience. Here, that was his identity. But -- and this was something she was familiar with -- it might be different at his childhood home in Miami.

With pleasure, she returned to the memory of Griff's beach cabin. It was a small house with comfortable open architecture that united a kitchen and eating area and a living area that opened to a deck. There was a downstairs bedroom and a stair-reached loft bedroom. The West-facing windows looked out to beach and sea. The exterior was redolent of lace-curtained East Coast beach cottages, but on the inside, the walls were California Redwood, and the whole was dominated by an open vaulted ceiling with exposed beams.

arrow Was it too soon to call him? They did not at this point have a comfortable phone relationship. But she wanted to hear his voice. Secure in the knowledge that he was still in class, she called and left a message. So that she knew what to say, she had composed it on paper -- thanking him for the beach day, asking what to bring for Saturday dinner, asking how he thought Stanford looked against San Diego State, and saying that there was no rush to answer.