Lightly Longing

I Miss u, replied Thank u

I agreed, I promised myself I would never contact him. Stupid name, if the past that has been discarded is taken back.

He should also be happy with the woman of his choice, as well as me. The teaching hours at the school were over, and Ms. Afifah and I agreed to go to the mall.

I am bored with my daily routine. Not to mention, I was upset with Satria, so lazy to go home. I got off the two-wheeled vehicle belonging to Ms. Afifah, then walked in the basement to the main entrance of the mall.

Silver color sedan car looks swaying. I sharpened my gaze toward the clockwork number eleven. The not-so-dark window film made it easy to see who was behind the wheel.

I close my lips when our eyes meet for a few seconds, my steps are very slow to be sure. Is it true what I saw. Arini was making a friendly fondling in there, not to mention the face of the remnants of his pleasure recorded clearly.

I shakes in disbelief. It turns out that true, nothing is perfect. The evidence was clearly visible in front of my eyes. At first I was amazed at the perfection of his life. However, by seeing this incident I was grateful for what I already had.

"Bu Ananta, you see what?" ask Ms. Afifah who wiggled my shoulders slowly.

"He uh? Nothing, Mom. Kirain I saw my friend, apparently not," I pulled the arm of this hijab-wearing woman quickly.

We were in one of the dining places in the mall which was quite crowded in this city. We told him about the lessons as well as the children while waiting for the order to come.

I saw Arini coming over to our table, with a bag hanging from his arm and glasses over his head he asked for a minute. Me and Ms. Afifah looked up at her who was standing next to me.

"Mom Afifah, just a minute."

"Yes, Mom."

I also Arini away looking for a place that is a bit angular, also quiet. Right at the emergency exit.

"I want to ask you for help."

"Please what?"

"Please keep this a secret from anyone."

I chuckled for a moment. "I'm not interested in what you're doing. Excuse me."

My hand held her to leave, I turned to look at her. "I did this to keep my sanity as a regular housewife."

"God! You're really funny" I said grinning. He justifies the affair, amazingly this waist-haired woman supports the actor. I chose to leave him, too lazy to hear the nonsense chatter.

Whatever the situation, the affair is still wrong. Whether you marry or not is your choice. If you have chosen to commit, whatever the risk is still live. Ithinkso.

"Aren't you tired of your husband's cold attitude?"

"Don't you even know that the affair isn't true?"

I left her, rejoined Ms. Afifah. The look on my face was definitely bent, it was irritated. He's new to our neighborhood, but feels most right about my life.

Go or be replaced. No one is faithful to man, as the sky awaits the coming of dusk. Even if there is, maybe it is just a complement to a beautiful string of poetry when read.

Maybe that's the principle of Arini's life. Loyalty may hurt in his life. Maybe he was just looking for fun that way, but still it was the betrayal of his name.

"Mom, are you okay?" Bu Afifah's voice broke my daydream.

"He uh? Ah, ja. All right, Mom."

"Who was that, Mom?"

"That's my front neighbor, ma'am. They just moved, so just asked Mr. RT's house. Maybe want to buy something before he goes home."

Ms. Afifah nodded. Our order arrived, ice cream with vanilla float and rice bowl was present in front of us.

Ice cream is a stress neutralizer for me. For some reason, whenever I am bad mood, bete or sad, this thing can always change my mood.

We took a walk and decided to go home. It was late in the afternoon, Satria would be furious if I hadn't come home yet.

****

As for me and Ms. Afifah laughing at the writing on the white T-shirt belonging to Mr. Arbi. Yes, now the middle school is holding a series of events welcoming the Indonesian independence HUT.

Ms. Afifah and I led the kids at the cooking competition. While Mr. Arbi, was joining the club painting a t-shirt.

Maybe he who was a biology teacher couldn't draw well or paint, so he wrote that. I don't know what the purpose of putting those words together is. Where the writing was purple, was like a hard code for someone.

He gave a real example earlier, then dried his short-sleeved shirt. The scorching heat made the thin cloth dry quickly, as a result he wore it as it is now.

Me and Ms. Afifah continued to stare at the glancing smiles at her who was walking beside the children across the street. When he swept a glance at us, we smiled very amusedly.

Mr. Arbi frowned and stepped closer. "Sorry, Miss Ananta, Miss Afifah. Is there anything funny?"

"There really isn't, sir. Just writing on your clothes that I think is a bit tickling," I said as I closed my mouth with one hand.

"Yes, sir," continued Ms. Afifah. "Kayak tucked vent anyway, there," continued Bu Afifah again who still continues to laugh.

"Indeed," he answered casually.

"Well? Really?" my question is to make sure, the more tickling my stomach feels. I kept laughing out loud, and then Mr. Arbi approached me.

"Didn't I ever tell Mom?" the whisper then left.

"Huh?" I swerved, then blinked with a quick rhythm. The feeling I never received such a statement from this eagle-eyed man.

There was a strange sigh that spread to the heart hearing Mr. Arbi's words. I never heard him say that to me. All this time, I maintained a professional relationship with him.

Not involved in any relationship. Indeed the last time I met Tama, Mr. Arbi said that makes no sense to me.

I don't know if he says his longing in the heart. Obviously I can't hear it. Except for true love, hear what is not said. Seeing without explaining.

Ms. Afifah poked my shoulder. "Congenious, Mom? The kids finished cooking. It's time for judgment."

"Ah, yes."

I sat down with another teacher. Ms. Afifah is right next to me. A piece of paper and a pen are on my finger. The disciples were divided into six groups, six each.

They were all preparing for the assessment. Because, for champions one, two, and three there is merchandise from the school. As a special thank you.

Ms. Afifah took me around with some teachers who were in charge. Various dishes have been arranged neatly on each group table.

There are roasted chicken and soy sauce sambal as well as watermelon as the fruit. There is fried rice surrounded by lettuce as well as cucumber and tomatoes as a complement.

Fried noodles, exactly the same as the order of fried rice, only they add pineapple juice.

We switched to a group of four, they didn't add much to anything. Just a stew, sambal terasi also fried salted fish along with tempe, tofu.

Groups five and six, they cook fried rice kampung and fried tiau noodles. Not many menus, maybe this is the first time for them to cook. Anyway, it's still a dozen years old too. We understand, then the mangosteen while judging.

I started tasting. Yeah, as expected. Nano-nano taste. Some are tasteless, spicy, salty, some are in accordance with the tongue of our judges.

Enough to judge, we decided to decide the winner. Results we got. Group one gets the first champion, group four champions to two, champion three obtained by the third team. Fried rice with pineapple juice.

"Bu Ananta," called Mr. Arbi who obviously I turned to him immediately. My maya hit her face.

"Eh. Sorry, Mr."

Mr. Arbi seemed to rub his face slowly, while closing his eyes for a while.

"It's, ok."

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm like a shampoo commercial, hehe."

"It's okay, Mom. I just want to give this to Mom." I frowned, staring at the white t-shirt in his grasp.