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interest on a woman who was worth more financially than he was. But in spite of his reservations, after he’d finished his dinner, Paul kept searching for an excuse to see Carissa again that evening.
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    As she often did at home, Carissa prepared a taco salad, sat in front of the television and watched the evening news while she ate. Before she’d sold her company, her days had been so busy with business matters that she didn’t have much of a social life. It was usually a relief to escape into her apartment at night and let the walls close around her. Her only relaxation was at the health club in the basement of the condo complex. She’d made some good friends there, and she missed them tonight.
    She’d gotten a sack of Red Delicious apples at the grocery store, and while she munched on one for dessert, she reflected on her day with Paul. This timeyesterday she’d never heard of the man, but they’d gotten acquainted in a hurry. Had the time come for her to seek the male companionship she’d previously avoided? Now that she’d reached the mellow years, the hang-ups she’d had about dating shouldn’t be a problem. It was rather astonishing that she was even thinking about the subject, and most surprising was that she hadn’t had such thoughts until she met Paul Spencer.
    â€œHey, neighbor!”
    The loud voice startled Carissa so much that she dropped the apple core on the floor. It took a moment for her to realize that Paul was calling on the intercom.
    â€œHey, neighbor!” The call came again before she remembered where the speaker was.
    Smiling, she picked up the apple core, hurried into the kitchen and answered Paul.
    â€œHey, yourself.”
    â€œI wanted to see if this thing still works. What are you doing?”
    â€œFinishing dinner.”
    â€œI promised to tell you why Yuletide is no longer a Christmas town. If you have time, I’ll come over and fill you in.”
    â€œGreat! I’d like some company.”
    Humming a Christmas song that she’d just heard on the television, Carissa rinsed the dishes she’d used for supper and put them in the dishwasher. She prepared a bowl of grapes, cheese cubes and crackersand placed the food on a table between two large lounge chairs in the living room. She poured a jar of fruit punch over ice and was placing it on the table when Paul knocked on the back door. She motioned him inside.
    â€œBrr!” he said, taking off his coat and laying it on the back of the couch. “The temperature is dropping quickly. If it wasn’t already, the lake should be frozen enough that I can go ice fishing tomorrow. If I make a nice catch, I’ll invite you to have dinner with me in my apartment.”
    â€œCan you cook?” Carissa asked as she motioned him to one of the chairs. It seemed rather odd to be acting as hostess to Paul in his sister’s house.
    â€œI’m a fair cook,” he said. “I’ve prepared dinners many times for some of my co-workers. But I’m not such a good fisherman, though, so don’t whet your appetite for a fish fry until you see the fish.”
    â€œHelp yourself to the snacks,” Carissa invited. “I’ll take you up on the invitation. I’m not a good cook— I just make what satisfies my appetite, and that’s not always what others like to eat. I never cook a meal for anyone. If I have guests, I take them to a restaurant for dinner.”
    â€œSince I kept you up most of last night, I hesitated to barge in on you—you’d probably like to go to bed early. I’m sleepy, too, but I want to adjust to Eastern Standard Time, so I’m forcing myself to stay up.”
    â€œGood idea. I haven’t done much overseas travel,but it usually takes a week for me to get over jet lag.”
    Paul poured a glass of fruit juice and sipped it as he talked. “As I told you earlier, when I was a kid, Yuletide was just like