“And that constellation right there”—Richie points to a string of lights—“is the giant saucepan …” “I think it’s called the Big Dipper.” “No, no.” He points to another lot. “That’s the big dicker. And those two red ones are the big titties.” I laugh and twist my hand around his scarf. “And that lot?” “Ah, those are the Ursa Ménage à trois.” “So romantic.” I pretend to sigh.
