His eyes moved to the coat folded over the chair, then to the babies.

Maya greeted him and asked him to wash his hands before taking Emma.

He did.

That ordinary instruction helped me keep standing.

He held his daughter, murmuring something I could not hear.

I watched the way he supported her.

He had learned things about being a father while I was still asking strangers whether they had seen my son.

When the babies were settled, we sat opposite each other.