ABHIMANYU WORLD

Chapter LXVII: Single Parent

The afternoon was hot and hot. It's best in this kind of weather to drink something cold. Shadows of ice that contains a variety of fruit or young coconut ice is haunting the mind. Moreover, the smell of jackfruit in ice, will certainly feel good when flowing in the esophagus. Not-yet, I've been gulping at the thought of that.

“Come in!” bring Bu Roffi.

The woman was ready with the latest silver color sedan car that dazzled the eyes. His black glasses look a bit too big, so it looks less fitting with the shape of his face. More like the face of a grasshopper.

I got into the car with reverence, like a subordinate to the superior. In any case, I have to maintain an attitude when dealing with people who are of a higher level than me. Moreover, I grew up in a Javanese environment that glorified primordialism. Surely uploading it is an inherent thing in the philosophy of life.

Not much to say, I resigned wherever Ms. Roffi took me away. The woman drove seriously. His attention was centered on the density of traffic that afternoon. This is the second time a woman has travelled in a car. Being in a car like this, my memories drifted to Dahlia.

How did I miss him, huh?

“What do you like to eat, Bi?”

“As for Mom only,” I replied shyly.

If outside do not be formal, Bi. Calling time Mom anyway?” said Mrs Roffi.

In my opinion, the call ‘Mu’ is not too excessive, considering he is my boss. In addition, it was obvious that Bu Roffi was several years older than me. It's not nice if I call him by name alone.

After a long drive, the car stopped at a crowded food stall crowded with buyers. No wonder , lunch hours like this stalls crowded with workers who want to fill the stomach. The atmosphere is rather narrow. It makes it hard to find a seat. Fortunately, after getting sick first, we also got a place.

The model of the stalls we visited was a buffet with a wide selection of side dishes, reminiscent of a fairly legendary stall near my campus. There I also have a special memory with Lusi. Strange as well. In the car remember Dahlia, in the stall remember Lusi, next in the toilet remember who?

You must remember Darwis!

I don't want to try the strange menu, take the menu that is already familiar on the tongue. Vegetable ointment, vegetable tofu, tempe mendoan and fried chicken. It feels tongue-shaking, no wonder many customers are willing to queue to be able to eat here.

“This shop is my subscription since a long time ago, Bi. How's it feel? Yummy no?” ask Ms. Roffi.

“Nak coke, Bu.” Answer shy.

“Eat a lot, let it fatten!”

I blushed in shame. Ethics remains number one. Being close to the boss does not necessarily make us jumawa, or joking at will. Even the bad taste gnaws. I'm sure, after this luncheon, there's a lot of bird news blowing in the office. Mr. Imron can attack me using this weapon.

After lunch, Ms. Roffi intended to go home for a while because something was missing, she did not explain further what was missing.

“After a while. Just five minutes. Something is missing at home,” said Bu Roffi.

The car drove to an elite residential area. There was not a single one-story house, the majority two-story, with a towering fence. I can't imagine living in an environment like this, because it is certain that the sense of individual attitude thrives. No one cares about the neighbors, all busy with their own business.

In my heart, I think it's really lucky that Ms. Roffi has been able to succeed like this. Luxurious drive, magnificent home and a good career. Less what try? Diseases of women who have been successful like this usually they lack respect for men, so they feel no need for men. As a result, they feel at home living single for years, because they feel they can meet all their needs.

For a moment I remembered what Mr. Imron had told me. Is Miss Roffi really like that? He looks so good. I don't think that a boss like this is jablay or something. I dare not think the no-no.

The car stopped in front of a magnificent, high-fenced house, with a beautiful garden. Similar to other houses, the house of Bu Roffi minimalist design has two floors with cream-colored paint. I waited in the car, while Mrs Roffi went inside.

Before long, he came out again while saying,” Abi, let's go in for a while!”

“I just wait here, Mom!” reject me.

I don't feel good about refusing Ms. Roffi's orders. In the end, I followed his orders. It's kind of awkward to get into a nice house like this. I chose to sit on the porch, it's not nice to enter a woman's house without a muhrim. Fortunately, here the environment is individualist, if in the village of course my visit will be categorized as immoral.

Before long, the woman came out with a little girl about four years old. It was so funny that girl's face. Her reddish cheeks, and her round eyes, made me feel anxious to pinch.

“Same salute Om!” ma'am Roffi's orders to the little girl.

Shamefully the little girl extended her hand. I greeted with a smile. Funny kids, really life-changing. Their sinless faces were soothing to the eyes.

“What's the name?” sapaku friendly.

The boy did not answer, only squirming shyly.

“Name Vina, Om!” Mrs Roffi who guides answers questions. I'm mangosteen. The beautiful little girl went back inside, accompanied by a middle-aged mother.

“Bulek, later do not forget the three o'clock minimized again the medicine yes!” said Bu Roffi giving orders to the middle-aged woman.

“Enggih, Mom!”

I dare not think anything. Just sit, be quiet and handsome without reacting. Mr. Imron's words again ring in the ear. Maybe she's right, that this Miss Roffi is a widow. Because I don't see her having a husband.

“That's Vina, my son. He had a fever, so I took him home for a while to check if he had eaten or not. Don't be surprised, Bi. I am a single parent. Everything I handle myself,” said Bu Roffi.

Single parent?

Wanted me to look further where her husband is, but I thought it was better not to. Worrying about falling is impolite. I have no business knowing her husband's circumstances. My amazement increased again. I never thought that Ms. Roffi was a single parent. For some points, Mr. Imron's remarks were correct.

Unfortunately I do not agree that Mr. Imron thinks that Ms. Roffi is flirtatious and likes to be attracted to brondong. I guess, Bu Roffi's degree of genitourism is still at a reasonable level. Lunch practice is not one of the flirtatious categories. If only Bu Roffi's genitourinary level was high, he would have invited me into his room.

“Bi, I want it ...” asked Bu Roffi.

“Please ask, Bu”

“Have you heard the gossip about me in the office?”

“Oh, not really Bu!” Suddenly I was nervous to hear that question.

“Good then. That's why you see for yourself my condition here. If anyone says I am a widow, I am a widow. My husband remarried because he was interested in a younger girl.” Bu Roffi's eyes glared far away. I'm sure sadness has crept into his heart.

“It's one noon Ma'am. Time to get back to work,” I reminded.

“Oh, yes Bi. I'll tell you about this sometime?”

“Do not bu!” My answer.

I'm afraid that the proximity of Ms. Roffi will ignite the news of the bird being spread in a short time. Under these circumstances, it is better for me to close my eyes and ears tightly. Let Ms. Roffi focus on her own personal matters.

***