A Hundredth Birthday Party in the Sunroom
The sunroom was done up in pink for the hundredth birthday party — balloons tied to the tables, pink plastic champagne flutes lined up, a punch bowl going, and cupcakes with pink frosting laid out on gold boards in the shape of a 100. Somebody had figured out exactly how many cupcakes it takes to make three numerals, and it takes a lot.
By the window there was a big collage board, a hundred years of photographs pinned around a sign that said 100 Years! — from a hand-tinted portrait of a young woman with a string of pearls all the way through to recent ones. People kept drifting over to it between the food table and their seats.
The room filled up: family standing in clusters, residents at the tables with walkers parked around them, snacks and the fruit-and-cheese tray making the rounds. Punch got poured into the pink flutes for anyone who wanted it.
The guest of honor, though, skipped the punch. Pink nail polish, oxygen line and all, she had a glass mug of beer, both hands on it, and worked her way through it like she'd done it before.
