A week or so later I was standing in Martha Jane's kitchen as her mother, a thin lady who looked much older than my own and who resembled her darker b...unette daughter more than her fair, auburn haired Martha Jane, carefully handed me a large tablespoon filled with dark green syrup. Her mother always spoke slowly and with a slight rasp, having never completely overcome the lung problems that she developed from the long and severe illness following her husband's death in the war."There," she told. Debbie and Dolly put their glasses down untouched."You girls okay?" Bart asked. "You haven't turned down a glass since your twenty-first birthday." Well..." You see..." We think..." We might be..." Well, actually, we are..." Pregnant."George, Bart, and Sylvia all choked on their drinks. I didn't have any in my mouth and Dani was grinning at her sisters."Pregnant?" George squeaked."Well, you said you'd like to knock us both up," Debbie said."We decided to give that to you for a birthday. More

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