Griff looked across the room to the bed. It was covered with a comfortable-looking blended gray and medium blue semi-puffy coverlet on which pillows in various shades of blue were scattered. He laid his law book-laden briefcase on the space on the studio table that Caydance had made beside the comfortable chair, sat down, as if he knew that she had made that place for him, put his feet up on the stool, looked at the view. "This is beautiful", he said.

Caydance put her hands on his shoulders, gently kissed the back of his neck. "Would you like some Cuban rum cake, vanilla ice cream, and champagne or coffee?" she asked. "Or..."

"Or", he replied, standing up and demonstrating what he meant. "And then we can have cake, ice cream, and champagne, study for an hour or two, talk about artists books, look through catalogs with clothes for my Dad in mind, and discuss strategies for dealing with the Huskies' defense, until it is bedtime."