When he was college age, Nick Rohloffsen had a troubled engagement. His prospective bride was in New York, attempting to start an opera career. He was in the western mountains, house sitting for a rich relative and doing accounting for a summer music camp. Wedding plans were being made, but Nick feared every day as he opened his mailbox that the postman had left notice that the wedding was off. Matters became worse in that long-ago summer when a mercurial pianist - she called herself Margot - moved into the house next door.