Welcome to Martha’s Place
SOME FOLKS HAVE TOLD ME they feel an actual tingle when they walk through the front door. Others simply say that when you step inside, someone’s apt to call you by name as like as not. Still others say there’s some kinda magic around here—but I don’t know nothing about that.
What I do know is that every day come late morning, maybe fifteen minutes before we open, I gather whoever’s on shift in the kitchen with me, maybe Beryl and Rosalee, and we all hold hands family-style like we’re sitting around a lunch table at home, and we look...