The Gordons had outdone themselves. Endless streams of colorful crepe paper streamed over the ceiling and walls; strings of twinkling mini-lights hung like rays of light from the central chandelier; and a five-piece string ensemble—complete with tuxedos and gowns—was playing joyous Mozart as the guests arrived.

The decorations were amazing, and a magnificent spread of hors d’oeuvres surrounded an elegant crystal punch bowl. Attention had been given to the very last detail and it was, indeed, the birthday party to end all birthday parties.

Everyone was there—neighbors, coworkers, ex-boyfriends, the mailman, the UPS delivery driver, two of Lenore’s former college professors and even two people that nobody could identify who looked a lot like characters from Men in Black. It was an event no

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