“Okay, let’s call it a night.” Clayton yawned and headed for the door. “We can finish up the packing tomorrow.”

Hal took Vanessa’s arm to pull her up, but she refused to budge. “Where’s everyone going? I thought we were going to decide what happened to Johnny.”

“We’ve got all week.” Hal got a better grip on her arm and hauled her to her feet. “I’m tired and I want to go to bed.”

“Oh, sure. You want to go to bed, but you sure don’t want to . . .” Hal squeezed her arm and Vanessa let out a little yelp as he pushed her through the doorway.

“We’re leaving, too.” Moira stood up. “Poor Grace is beginning to droop.”

“True enough,” Grace sighed, “but I wish you wouldn’t point it out in public. You’re no spring chicken either, you know.”

Moira let out a whoop of laughter. “I guess I deserved that one. Come on, Gracie.”

“Me, too.” Marc headed for the door. “I have to check my answer phone. I’m expecting an important call.”

“I’ll bet you ten bucks you didn’t get it.” Rachael looked smug.

“You’re on. This guy promised he’d call right after dinner and he must have called the land line, because I didn’t get any calls on my cell . . . oh, hell!” Marc started to laugh. “I forgot. The phone lines are down and none of our cell phones work.”

Clayton waited until they were all out the door. “Hold the elevator while I lock up.”

“Why bother?” Alan asked him.

“Because someone could walk right into the building and steal Johnny’s possessions. Our security system’s down.”

“But we’ve got a natural backup system.”

“We have? Jack never mentioned it.”

“That’s because Jack didn’t know. It’s called the avalanche system and nobody’s getting in or out until they move that wall of snow.”

I’ll swap my plans to that singular dream

A lady alone with her get-rich scheme

’Cause all I need is a blankety-blank

And a ride on the carousel of love.

Jayne swiveled on the piano bench to look at Paul. “So what do you think? Do I need a teensy shove? A black satin glove? Or the stars above?”

“I do not care for any of the three.” Paul frowned slightly. “They do not meet your usual standard, Jayne.”

“I know that. Come on, Paul. I’ve got to come up with a finale, but I can’t think of anything else that rhymes with love.”

“Perhaps you should attempt to rhyme with A and B and permit your strongest line to stand alone.”

“Can I do that?” Jayne looked dubious.

“Certainly.” Paul nodded. “Many excellent poets have written in this manner.”

“Okay, if you say so. But I’m still stuck for a rhyme.”

Paul hummed the melody twice. Then he smiled. “If you’ll give me one chance to grab the brass ring when I ride on the carousel of love.”

Jayne scribbled on her pad of paper and sang the stanza again.

I’ll swap my plans to that singular dream

A lady alone with her get-rich scheme

If you’ll give me one chance to grab the brass ring

When I ride on the carousel of love.

“I like it, Paul. I like it a lot. But ring doesn’t exactly rhyme with dream and scheme.”

“It will when Miss Rawlins sings it.”

Jayne turned to him in surprise. “You’ve been listening to Barbie’s records?”

“This is true. I have attempted to identify her most unusual accent.”

Jayne began to smile. “Sure you have. And the Pope just turned Lutheran. You were listening to country-western because you missed it.”

“No, Jayne. I did not miss the music. I missed you.”

Jayne felt suddenly shy. The moment she’d been avoiding was close and she wasn’t sure how to react. She’d missed Paul, too, but should she come right out and say it? Instead, she changed the subject. “You must have missed dinner. Do you want something to eat?”

Paul nodded. “Do you have the Cheese Whiz, Jayne?”

“Cheese Whiz?” Jayne’s voice was incredulous. “You always said that you hated processed cheese. Wild horses couldn’t drag you to try it.”

“I have changed my mind, Jayne. I recently purchased ajar and I have developed the taste.”

Jayne was thoughtful as she went into the kitchen and fixed a plate of crackers. She set the jar of Cheese Whiz in the center and prepared to carry it into the studio. Paul had definitely missed her if he’d listened to Barbie Rawlins songs and tried Cheese Whiz, but that didn’t mean that he could just waltz up here and pick up the threads of their marriage. They’d both learned how to compromise in the months they had been apart, but basic issues persisted.

They sat on opposite ends of the piano bench and munched crackers in silence, passing the jar of cheese back and forth. Jayne blushed as she realized that Paul was staring at her. Damn that cool Scandinavian exterior! She never had been able to read his expressions. Did he want her as much as she wanted him? Or should she observe the proprieties and insist he sleep on the couch? It was all so confusing that she was ready to jump out of her skin, especially since she couldn’t seem to stop imagining how good it would be if they were in bed together.

“What is wrong, Jayne? Are you unhappy that I am here?”

“Of course not.” Paul was looking at her with concern and Jayne decided to confront him straight on. “I’m just trying to decide whether I should follow my instincts and drag you to bed.”

“That would be very wonderful.” Paul began to smile.

“Yes, but we haven’t settled anything yet. Remember that awful argument we had?”

“I remember. And I must offer to you my apology.”

Jayne sighed deeply. “You can’t apologize if you didn’t start it and you didn’t, I did. I flew off the handle and I knew I was wrong, but I was too damn ornery to admit it.”

“That is not true, Jayne. I am the one who left and I am also the one at fault.”

Jayne shook her head. “No, Paul. I pushed you too hard and I should have known better. You had to leave. I didn’t give you any other choice.”

“No, Jayne. You had worked all night and you were very tired. I failed to appreciate your exhaustion.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Jayne’s voice was rising. “You’re just making excuses for me. You always make excuses for me. I’m adult enough to admit that I was wrong!”

“You were not wrong! The blame belongs to me!”

Paul realized that he was glaring at Jayne and she looked just as upset. Unable to resist, he started to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

Jayne glared at him, arms crossed, and Paul laughed out loud. Clearly reconciliation had its pitfalls, too.

“Answer me, Paul! What’s so funny?”

Jayne’s eyes were flashing and Paul could tell she was growing furious, but he couldn’t seem to stop laughing. The whole argument was utterly absurd.

“If all you can do is stand there and laugh like a hyena, you can turn right around and go back down that damned . . .” Paul pulled her into his arms and silenced her with a kiss. At first she sputtered, but then her arms tightened around him and she kissed him back.

“What was that for?” Jayne looked confused when he let her go at last.

“If we had continued to argue about our previous argument, it would have been another six months before I saw you again.”

“But it really was my fault. You’ve got to see . . .”

Paul grabbed her and kissed her again. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? When he let her go, Jayne was giggling.

“I get it. Every time we start to fight, you kiss me. Is that right?”

“That is correct. It is impossible to disagree if we cannot talk.” Paul stood up and extended his hand. “Come, Jayne. Let us go to bed before we begin another quarrel. It is also impossible to argue in bed.”