Motherless

19

I sat at the dining table, a stack of student papers in front of me, the red pen in my hand moving steadily across the pages. Across from me, Talia was hunched over her homework, her brow furrowed in concentration. The soft hum of the ceiling fan provided a soothing backdrop to our quiet evening.

My phone buzzed on the table, and I glanced at the screen to see a message from my sister, Amanda.

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Amanda: Hey! How come I haven't heard from you? How's everything going with that girl you were telling me about?

I sighed, remembering our last conversation. It had been before I knew the full extent of Talia's situation. I picked up my phone and typed back a quick response.

Me: Hey! Sorry, it's been hectic. Talia is doing okay. She's staying with me now. It's been... a lot to handle.

Amanda: Wow, that's a big step. I'd love to meet her. How about tonight? Greg's on a business trip, so I'm free.

I glanced over at Talia, who was still engrossed in her work. Amanda meeting her could be a good thing. My sister had a warm, welcoming nature that might help Talia feel more comfortable.

Me: Sure, come over tonight. She's a bit shy, but I think it'll be good for her.

Amanda: Great! I'll be there around 7. Can't wait to meet her.
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I put down my phone and looked at Talia, a smile spreading across my face. She was so focused, her pencil moving rapidly as she worked through her assignments. The sight filled me with a sense of pride and protectiveness.

"Talia," I said gently, breaking the comfortable silence. She looked up, her eyes curious. "My sister, Amanda, is coming over tonight. She really wants to meet you."

Talia's eyes widened slightly, a hint of nervousness creeping in. "Is she nice?" she asked, her voice small.

I reached across the table, covering her hand with mine. "She's very nice," I assured her. "You'll like her, I promise."

A few minutes passed in companionable silence as we continued our respective tasks. Talia seemed lost in thought, occasionally glancing up at me with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.

Suddenly, I slipped into Spanish, saying softly, "Ella es muy simpática y divertida." (She is very nice and funny.)

Talia blinked in surprise. "I thought you said you only spoke a little Spanish?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

I chuckled, nodding. "I know I just didn't want to make a big deal. My adopted mother is Mexican, so I learned it from her," I explained. "She made sure I grew up bilingual."

Talia's eyes lit up with interest. "Can you teach me?" she asked eagerly.

"Of course," I said, my heart warming at her enthusiasm. "We can start with some basic phrases. It'll be fun."

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As the evening settled in, Talia's voice was barely audible as she spoke, almost as if she was afraid of her own words. "Um, I'm hungry," she murmured softly, her eyes downcast.

I leaned in closer, encouraging her to speak up. "Sorry, could you repeat that?" I asked gently.

Talia took a deep breath and spoke a little louder this time, but still with a hint of fear in her voice. "I'm hungry," she said, her words a whisper.

I smiled warmly at her, wanting to reassure her that it was okay to express her needs. "You can say that without fear here, Talia," I said gently. "I'll make us something to eat. How about I cook up some stew? It's warm and comforting."