Just a Bond

Jealous

"Mas Farhan!" Rifka's sudden shout made us turn our eyes to the door.

"Oh Allah, my brothers why they like to scream, anyway" grumbled Mas Reza as he rubbed his ears. Understandably, he sat to the right of Rifka. "Eh, no. Except for Najwa," after Mas Reza.

My first sister was grinning widely, as if innocent. However, despite the shock of Rifka's sudden scream, for some reason, one question came to mind.

Why did Rifka look so enthusiastic to see the arrival of Mas Farhan?

"Look, Mas. Here join us-us," said Rifka again. My other brothers didn't seem to feel what I was feeling. The proof is they're okay. Not showing a different response to Rifka's words just now.

"Where were you stuck, Mom?" Kulrikik Mas Farhan who took a sitting position on my left.

"Najwa, to her husband who said that," said Mas Gibran. Ah, Mas Gibran made me a little clumsy. I lowered my head because I suddenly felt ashamed.

What kind of wife am I, huh?

My mouth likes to be out of control lately. Astaghfirullahal.

"I'm sorry, Mas" I said to Mas Gibran and Mas Farhan.

Gibran, who was sitting to my right, turned his head. He gently elus my head, then said, "Don't repeat. Same polite husband." I looked up first, then gave a small nod.

"This is also true for both of you." Mas Gibran looked at Weny and Rifka alternately. "Understand, Wen, Ka?" continued.

My brother is the best. I heard Rifka and Weny saying, "Yes."

“Come, Mas Farhan. It's eaten his snack. It's a snack made by our sister-in-law - we are beautiful, lo, Mas.” Rifka thrust a jar containing cookies commonly called Beautiful Sweet by my family. I don't know what the reason is, but the snack is like an egg, but the shape is rather long and the outside is covered with sugar sand melted first. I don't know any other names.

Mas Farhan pulled out the jar, then took some of the snacks. “Wah, it's a nice snack, but I don't know the name. Mother also often brought souvenirs by kayak gini if abis met with Pa—Ayah.”

“Well, it must be loved by Mother, Mas. You see, if you want to meet Miss Rasti, I will make it.”

“Oh, yes?” Mas Farhan seemed enthusiastic about responding to Rifka's sentences. They spoke as if what was around him was a statue.

How could I not have concluded that? Ever since entering the house, Rifka was the one who talked the most and Mas Farhan was casually offsetting my sister's chatter. Weny and Wildan were joking with their own laughter. I don't know what topics they're discussing. Mas Reza looked solemn with his phone. Mas Gibran also only occasionally chimed. He is busy with his two daughters whom Mbak Diva entrusted. After giving a snack, then chat with us for a while, Ms. Diva immediately returned to the kitchen. He said he wanted to clean something up. Then Rifki, I see he's busy chatting with Rizqun.

Isn't there jealousy in my sister-in-law's heart, huh? Is it just my sensitive feelings?

Tired of this constant state of being— feels lonely in the crowd my— got up from the seat. Mas Reza who first noticed my movements diverted attention from the screen of his phone. “Where to, Dek?” tanyakanya.

I briefly gasped, because after Mas Reza's question was said, all pairs of eyes looked at me. “It, Mas. I'm going to Mbak Diva for a bit.”

“Ngapain, Dek?” ask Mas Gibran.

“Ya help what, Mom. Poor him alone in the kitchen.”

“Mbak Najwa will be sent off with Mbak Diva. I was trying to help him too, but not approved. Have a sweet seat here with the brothers,” said Rifka.

Duh, I should use what excuse is this? Because I don't know why, I'm so lazy to be in this room.

“Yes, Sister Naj. Najwa ma'am don't miss me what?” added Weny.

“Have just been busy with your husband, Dek.”

“Dih, Ma'am Najwa is jealous, yes?” Weny laughed softly.

I rolled my eyeballs as Weny started to nosy. “What's jealous, Dek? Who is jealous?”

“Ya Ma'am dong. Who else?” I feel like I'm gonna throw up to see Weny suddenly squeaking mischievously after saying that. My brother's the narcissistic level of the masayallah, yes. The older the adult, the worse.

“No, ah. I want to be with Mas Reza aja.” Regardless of the expression of Weny who now began to sing lips, I then stepped to the side of Mas Reza. As soon as I arrived by his side I immediately sat down, then placed my chin on his shoulder.

“Mas Reza watch what, anyway? Khusyuk.”

Reza looked up, looking at me. “As usual.”

“Ikutan dong, Mas.”

Reza laughed for a moment. “Dih, watch the same Mas Reza, yes?”

“Iya, dong. Uda, ah, Mas. Let's watch solemnly.” I bowed my head to Mas Reza's phone, trying to focus, although the spectacle this time Mas Reza witnessed did not match the taste of my film. “Others don't riot, yes,” I added.

We both started to focus on watching. To this extent, I no longer heard the voices of Mas Farhan and Rifka.

“Mbak Najwa, watch out for jealousy, lo.” I exhaled when I heard Weny's voice come back. Really ruin the mood.

“No one will be jealous, Dek. This is my mask. Yes no, Mas?”

Mas Reza clucked. “Whispering very, anyway, these are mums.” Instantly, the authentic words of Mas Reza got the cheers of the three of us—haknya—had created back warmth in this room.

“If you want to watch, shut up,” concluded Mas Reza. Because there's a secret mission I want to do right now, so I'm trying to get out of this room.

Moments later, Mas Gibran takes Nayla and Sheila to his mother. So did Weny and Wildan. They took a shower, he said. Rifki also came out, taking Rizqun for a walk. As a result, there remained me, Mas Reza, Rifka and Mas Farhan.

Because my position and Mas Reza were sitting opposite Mas Farhan and Rifka, I secretly stole a glance at them. Not suuzan's intentions to my own husband and sister. However, as a wife, obviously I would be a little wondering about their relationship. Because in terms of interaction, they have been like a long time and very familiar.

“Which studio, Mas?” Rifka's voice was heard.

“Alhamdulillah, smoothly.”

“Kak Kinan and Kak Reyhan are still there?”

“Iya, dong. They're still there. Though just a week ago, lo, you came to the studio, ‘kan?”

Hearing Mas Farhan's question, my head reflexively turned towards Rifka. “You've been to Mas Farhan's studio, Dek?”

The enthusiastic nod given by Rifka creates a bit of a distinct flavor in this heart.

“Never again, Ma'am. But often.” Rifka smile. “Photos of his studio printing Mas Farhan are good, Ma'am. That's why I often print photos there.”

“Seriously, Deck? From Tuban ‘kan far to Surabaya?”

“Yes, anyway, Ma'am. At first I knew that if I joined Dad to meet his father Mas Farhan, I would have waited in his studio Mas Farhan, Mbak.”

Why did I just know this fact? Is it just me who doesn't know? Who wouldn't be jealous if this was the story?

...***...

Yeay, update again. Don't get tired of waiting for the continuation of the story of Mas Farhan and Najwa, yes. Step by step, everything will be revealed. Hi-hi-hi's chat.

Sweet greetings from the sweet author. Don't forget to leave a trace.

Sumenep, Madura, East Java

Sunday, August 1, 2021