The Roadhouse, a big rectangular building with metal siding, a metal roof, and a satellite dish hanging off one corner, was packed right up to its exposed rafters, but then, it always was the day after Christmas. People came from all over the Park to show off their presents, drink away the fact that they hadn’t received any, and generally recover from an overdose of family.

Dandy Mike was dancing cheek-to-cheek with some sweet young thing, but he winked at Kate as she threaded her way through the crowd. Bobby and Dinah held court in one corner, baby Katya on Bobby’s lap, resplendent in a bright pink corduroy kuspuk trimmed with rickrack and wolverine, necessitating a brief deviation from Kate’s course. Katya saw Kate coming, and as soon as Kate was within range, she gathered her chubby little legs beneath her and executed a flying leap that landed her on Kate’s chest.

“Oof!” Kate almost went down under the onslaught.

“Shugak!” Bobby bellowed. “Good ta see ya. Sit down and have a snort!”

Kate exchanged sloppy kisses with Katya and exchanged a grin with the ethereal blonde who was her mother. “Hey, Dinah.”

“Hey, Kate.”

An unknown blonde with melting blue eyes and a figure newspaper editors used to call “well nourished” came over, inspecting Kate with a quizzical eye. “What can I bring you?”

“You know Christie Turner, Kate?”

Aha, Kate thought. “We haven’t met, but I’ve heard tell.”

Christie cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

Kate grinned. “I was just up to the Step.”

Christie ducked her head and appeared, in the dim light, to blush. A shy smile trembled at the corners of her mouth. “Oh.” That was almost textbook, Kate thought, watching, but then Christie rallied to her duty. “Can I get you a drink?”

The Park was like a desert in midwinter-it sucked every drop of moisture out of the body, caused lips to crack, hangnails to sprout, and an unquenchable thirst for anything in liquid form. “Club soda with a wedge of lime would be good. One of the big glasses.”