My initial tears turned to happy tears, Martha's own trickling down her cheeks.
"Now, no more crying. My chicken will be a burnt to a cinder!" She laughed, her voice warm as she rubbed her eyes.
Myself, Martha, and James dined that night and I played the video of the triplets on the TV for them to see. We all cooed and ahhed at the screen over and over.
Martha gave me a hug before leaving, "You'll be alright by yourself?"
"Of course, I hugged her back fondly, "I'm going to have a nice bubble bath and watch a film with my feet up."
James kissed my cheek and gruffly said, "Anything at all, call us Sophie. We will come straight over." For my ears only, he whispered, "Mastha worries."
I could tell by the look in his warm blue eyes that it was not only Martha that worried for me. I found
