"JoJo studied the hole. "I don't know," she said. "I guess we could make it into a planter."Now Joe laughed. JoJo could make just about anything into a planter. "Forget it," he said good- naturedly.Next was a table of knickknacks and odds and ends. "Hey," said JoJo, stopping. "Hey," Joe echoed. They stood in front of the knickknack table staring at the alarm clock radio."A Snoozer," JoJo whispered."I know," Joe whispered back.On their honeymoon twenty years ago, Joe and JoJo had spent six nights in the city in a not-quite- seedy hotel convenient to the theater district. The idea was that the money saved on lodgings would go towards shows and dinners. All Joe and JoJo really needed was a clean mattress and each other. And sometimes they didn't even need the mattress. The hotel offered a free continental breakfast, served from six-thirty to ten each morning. On the nightstand next to the double bed sat a little alarm clock radio. Late the first night, JoJo told Joe to set the alarm. "We. Live from the White House? We could double our patrons for that! If... That was the big problem. If we even breathed a word about this to the public, the president could cancel it with no notice. I had to agree with Rachel. I needed to keep this to myself. In fact, I needed to not even let anyone know that I knew. This was going to be difficult.I retired early and picked up my guitar. It seemed I was always practicing with an instructor, in a practice room, with Cindy, with the orchestra. I couldn’t remember the last time I just picked up my old friend and played for myself. I sat on my bed, just picking miscellaneous notes, exercising my fingers and running scales. I felt the bed shift as Beca crawled up beside me. It was like the old days when I was doing Sunday morning concerts. Beca knew the best position and curled up just behind my right arm where she could lean against me. I kept playing and got lost in the music. My precious little Beca did what she always did in this.
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