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Tala didn't know how to stand. She was suddenly hyper aware of her hands and her feet, her bare face and her haphazard ponytail, as she shifted from foot to foot behind Raphael when they heard his mother's car outside. Her nerves were growing, running rampant through her body, and she tried to smother them with a smile.
Raphael reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers before he opened the door and a bitter wind struck them, howling into the hallway. She huddled next to him, peering past him to see a red car behind her own. The woman who stepped out looking nothing like Raphael: she was short and round, her blonde hair greying, but she shared his infectious grin and crinkled eyes.
"Raffy!" she called, beaming and waving as she helped March out of his car seat. As soon as he was free, he raced over to the front door.
"Daddy!" he cried, arms outstretched, and Raphael let go of Tala's hand to swoop down and cuddle his son, swinging him up onto his hip. He kissed his cheeks, holding him tight and swaying him.
"I missed you so much, March," he said. Tala's knees weakened at the sight of father and son.
March pouted. "I missed you, Daddy," he said. "Don't go again."
"I'm not going anywhere," he said, only letting his son down when his mother joined them. "Hi, Mum." He hugged her tightly and over his shoulder, she met Tala's eye with a youthful grin. When Raphael noticed, he chuckled. "This is Tala. My girlfriend," he added. "Tala, this is my mum, Davina. And March, of course."
A beam bubbled onto Tala's lips when he called her his girlfriend. It felt strangely natural. It felt right, as though the word was a glove tailored to her hand. "Hi," she said. "It's really nice to meet you." She held out her hand but Davina pulled her straight into a hug.
"My goodness, you're absolutely stunning! And your name is so pretty. Tala," she murmured. "Where's that from?"
"Mum." Raphael rolled his eyes but Tala smiled.
"It's Tagalog," she said. "Filipino."
"No wonder you're so beautiful," Davina said with a hearty laugh. In a matter of seconds, she had grown on Tala. Hustling everyone into the house so she could shut out the cold, she said, "I hope Raffy hasn't been driving you mad, darling."
"Not at all. He's fantastic company." She hugged herself as she followed Raphael through to the kitchen and fondly watched with soft eyes as he made a drink for his son and put the kettle on. March sat at the table, swinging his legs and staring at Tala. He was shamelessly intrigued by her.
She was used to that, the blatant curiosity of children, having taught his age for six years, and she beamed right back. "Hi, March. Your daddy's told me lots about you."
"This is Tala, March," Raphael said, one hand on his son's shoulder. The other reached for Tala's hand, his palm warm against hers.
"I like your top," March said, after studying her for a moment. "Is it soft?"
