irk, wearing sunglasses, found himself suddenly introduced to Scott’s great aunt: Honey Banker Rettberg. “Honey, you look so . . . weird,” Honey exclaimed, grabbing Dirk. Dirk nodded. He had been mingling here for hours looking for Scott, or even one Rettberg. There were gold ribbons. Tuxedoed waiters. Prim wine stewardesses. Vegetables carved beyond recognition into red orange white green arcs and spirals. Acres of cakes. Jewelry. Cummerbunds. Cuff links. Champagne. Gold engraved plates reading DECAF. Necklaces. Ties. Lights. Glitter Gold. Red. Blue. Balloons. Jack O’Lanterns. Candles. Ice. Hairstyles. Shiraz. Chardonnay. Tablecloths. Napkins. Presents. Paper.

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