The door to the Steel Worker Community Center was pushed open.
A blast of heat, thick with the mingled scents of turkey fat and mulled wine, assaulted Leo's senses.
The warmth instantly banished the biting chill of the Pittsburgh winter night, firmly shutting out all thoughts of budgets, bills, betrayal, and political schemes.
The room was dimly lit and warm, the heat turned up high.
Margaret was in her wheelchair, her legs covered by the familiar plaid blanket.
She was waving a soup ladle, directing two young volunteers as they hung a string of colorful lights on the ceiling beams.
Frank Kovalsky was wearing a comical red and white Santa hat.
The hat was too small for his huge head, perched crookedly on top.
He clutched a large handful of candy, under siege by a group of children.
No one seemed stiff or formal at the Mayor's arrival. They simply turned, glanced at the young man at the door dusted with snowflakes, and smiled.
"Hey, Leo!"
