Marry Bening

Get Yourdaughter!

It's eleven o'clock at night...

Meeting with Mr. Ram is exhausting. He's a client who is quite complicated and fussy to understand his wishes. Luckily, he finally agreed to all the sketches and worked with my company. Not without reason, because basically he already knows the performance we provide for our clients.

I massaged the nape of my neck that felt sore upon entering the room. Dropped on the couch, about to close my eyes. Instantly I moved, down the figure who was sleeping soundly in bed. There were small children and women who were sleeping soundly while hugging. The real view is incredible to see.

I don't know why I was so disappointed when I saw him. Is it because the child is not our child?

My mind is floating, am I going to experience it? I mean being a harmonious parent, being in love and having a child with my wife? With a little bit of misunderstanding, jealousy and debate, am I going to get through those days?

Had Erina been my wife, we might have had a tiny baby born from the seed of our love, complementing the harmony and happiness in the household we live in. But would that be? Does that have to happen? Because the fact that he left me for his career. And the woman who is my wife is currently fast asleep there with a child who still does not know her origin.

I sat on the edge of the bed. Tracing that dark-eyed face. My hands moved to shine the children's hair framing her face. By comparison, Erina may be more beautiful, but the sweet face that my wife is now in makes me not be able to turn away from her in the least. I want to keep lingering on his face and a smile is always etched on my face when I see it. I don't know why...

That small gesture spread the admiration that I unconsciously placed on my wife. Bening turned his back to the little boy named Byan. Now his sleep was completely facing me who was sitting next to him. His hands were moving, as if searching for something.

In the end he touched my waist, raised his body and buried his face in my thigh. Don't forget he put his hands around my waist. For a moment, I felt gasp for his behavior. I thought he was on purpose, I almost pushed him. However, I recited it when I heard the soft snoring sound that was heard from him. It wasn't on purpose, he thought I had warm bolsters he was looking for earlier.

I smiled faintly looking at her behavior. In fact, he had often done this when we slept together for almost a week. Is it because I am still conscious so it still feels awkward? Am I not the one who always seeks his body to embrace in my sleep? So ridiculous...

I don't know what instincts and where. I raised my palm, rubbed his head hair slowly and dabbled.

Oh yeah, why can Byan sleep here? If I move it, the little one wakes up and whines. Looks like tonight I have to sleep without a hug from my wife. Haha, why am I addicted to clutching it?

***

"What time is it all night? How, I don't know?" Bribing Byan breakfast. We're at the dinner table right now.

"Sleep is like a kebo," I said as I rubbed peanut butter on my bread.

"Yes, my mom doesn't know either. Usually like to snort when you go home." Mama. Just got off the stairs and joined us for breakfast. Not to forget, the main seat is sat by papa.

"Mama slept well last night," said papa sipping coffee.

"Hu'um, lately mama's sleep is really good," said mama. "It seems like mom is relieved because now our son has the right person in his life," he continued with a sad gaze but did not cover the radiance of happiness from the twinkle of his eyes.

"Yes, your mama's right, son. Papa felt it." Papa followed.

This time I saw my mom and dad happy. This small thing only makes them happy especially if they see I love Bening with all my heart. I hope that happiness will continue to come with us.

"You don't want to go home yet, eih?" I'm kind of cynical about Byan.

My words that felt intimidating made Byan hide his face. I got a plot from mom.

"His cyan is still at home here, Om. Can you, Om? Byan stayed a little longer here? Later if Byan wants to go home, Byan must say the same Om same brother as well..." Clear who replied in the tone of the children.

It's not my attitude to hate children. But the little boy seized Bening's attention entirely. Look, can't he eat with his own hands? My wife hasn't eaten anything in her mouth. And now, like a frightened kitten, she's hiding in her mother's armpit.

Anxious myself, I got out of my seat and pulled my chair over to the Clear chair. I just look at what I'm doing.

"Open your mouth!" with a sharp edge I rule.

This hand had already thrust out a mouthful of fried rice that had started to cool down on his plate. Clear eyes down the rice spoon I thrust in front of his mouth. His eyes seemed to wonder.

"Don't, you should have breakfast, too. Don't take care of people's kids." I turned to my mom and dad who saw our drama.

"Don't care about your mom and dad. Assume they do not exist. So don't be embarrassed!" With his song I said make mama and papa laugh. But it makes them laugh.

"Eat, Son. Papa tasa Aslam's hand will be numb if you do not eat it for a long time."

Bening smiled bitterly. He looked again at the spoon in front of his mouth in the same position. Doubtfully his mouth was open, eating a mouthful of rice in the spoon I had fed him.

Mom and Dad smiled at our behavior. Maybe more precisely seeing my behavior. My childish behavior...

Next, we had breakfast in the debate. I had breakfast and was endlessly feeding my wife. How many times will he deny eating it himself, how many times will I force him to feed. That way, he could still feed the Byan with not too late to fill his stomach. There is a saying; while diving drink water. Yes, the current situation might be like that.

***

"Have you any word on where your son is?" Edwin landed his body on the sofa.

"No, what's the police doing this late? I haven't heard from him for a week." Rudy looked frustrated.

"It's still afternoon, eih. Why did it come?" tanyanya.

"Bete aja, waiting for malem it feels very long," replied Edwin. "Where is Aslam? Do'i have a phone?"

Rudy shook his head, "Maybe do'i is still angry."

"You're kidding too much, anyway."

"Gue doesn't mean that. But..."

"Yes, Aslam is lucky." Rudy sighed.

The sound of cell phone rings filled the club's office space. The person they were talking about called. Rudy looked at the screen of his cellphone, which was marked by the name Aslam, on Edwin.

"Lifting splints!" Edwin shouted slowly.

"Yes, Lam" said Rudy. "How are you? About that time, I..."

"Gue called you not to talk about it" Aslam said across the phone.

"Gue called you because I think it's time to pick up your son."

"My son? Where's where?" Rudy enthusiastic. Edwin.

"Find me in Lilyana's flower and cake. The XX road. Ato is more precisely Mario's home area."

"Mario's House? As if I'm Mario's house isn't a cake shop."

"Just look for the shop I called. We'll meet you there, now!"

"OKAY. Lam, mother.kas-sih..." The phone was closed unilaterally.

"Have you met your son?" asked Edwin enthusiastically.

"Eitherway. I also do not understand why Aslam invited me to meet there and tell Byan now. I'll pull it up." Rudy got up from his great chair, rushed to put on his suit and immediately went to the place Aslam mentioned earlier.

"Okay, careful, Bro!" exciting Edwin.

Rudy ran to the parking lot and drove his car, hoping he would arrive on time.

***

"Honey, try now you decorate the cake here. Can't you?" Bening pointed the cake that had been baked and cold to Byan.

"Can donk, pretty brother." Byan is proud, typical of children's songong.

"Where? Let's see, brother,"

It was almost seven o'clock in the evening, Bening and Byan were still busy struggling in the store by baking cookies of various forms. Spend some time waiting for Aslam to arrive. Yes, her husband sent her a message that he would pick her up after work.

"Sister, does Om Aslam like evil Sister?" ask Byan. Her tiny hands moved to decorate the cake.

"No. It is like that by its nature. But the original Om Aslam is very good, really. If Om Aslam is evil, there is no way he ngizinin this handsome boy lives in our house," explained Bening. His hands are gnarled wovel-nguwel cheeks chubby Byan.

"Really?" Bening nodded. "But why the first time Byan to the house Brother, Om Aslam angry?"

"Ah, is that it?" Apparently the memory of a child is sharper. "At that time, Om Aslam was angry with his brother, because he came home the night. Om Aslam is angry not because he is evil, but he worries brother. Just like Byan's papyrus, she must be worried about Byan's nyariin," Bening said gently.

"But the evil papih. Papih often angryin and bentakin Byan not because of anxietyin Byan. Papih says, Byan is naughty..." Byan's voice became raucous, his eyes already glazed over.

"Byan's weeds are the same, too. Papih was angry because of the anxietyin Byan. But you're a bad guy, anyway. Pantes aja papihnya angry Byan continues..." Bening.

"I'm not bad!" Denying Byan. Bening deliberately makes Byan dusty so that the child is distracted from his sadness.

"It's not naughty, what dong?"

"Byan dare!"

"Wuihhh dare huh?"

"Yes!"

"Yes.oke.saking dare, Byan stayed at someone else's house for a long time." Straining his tongue.

"It's not someone else's house. That's my catty woman's house."

"Haha. Gemsin really, you're his son who the hell?" wagging his cheeks. "Catty who's woman?"

"Sister, my catty woman. Beautiful sister is my dream!"

"Ah.no ah. Mima kan, cat. Catty women are cats." Bening pretended to be tickling.

"You know, my beautiful sister became my mother and married the same papih. Papih 'kan kauka, shuka angry like om Aslam. If the beautiful sister becomes Byan's mami, papih is angry because Byan is worried as mami too,"

He was silent, he was at a loss for words. Until the voice in the doorway seized the chatter and attention between them.

"Byan, papi's coming. Come home, son."

TB