My wife's lover

chapter 32

I wanted to go home early because I was afraid my two children were late in the street but the minimarket was crowded, I was afraid employees were overwhelmed.

Minimarket owned by mbak Santi is always crowded especially if the beginning of the month and weekend, the buyer can double. Maybe because the price of the goods is cheaper a little from other places but the name of the buyer, even if it is only five hundred rupiah difference it has made happy. Yes multiply it if buying ten kinds of goods can be quite saving five thousand rupiah. Moreover, there is also the price of goods up to a difference of two thousand rupiah from other stores.

I finally called Santi to tell me that I can't go home quickly because the minimarket is crowded, the buyer's queue is quite long. Although only watching but my responsibility is big. I don't want minimarket mbak Santi to suffer a loss because of my negligence.

And luckily Andre and Alya were at home there. They were swimming in the afternoon pool next to Santi's house and tonight they were helping Santi make a cake. I hope my two children like the woman, otherwise I will not force myself to marry her without the consent of my children.

By eight o'clock at night, there are still people who come to buy. I saw the employees getting tired.

Maybe if it is quiet, I will learn how to use the cash register so that it can take turns serving buyers. Since working in minimarket mbak Santi, even though I have never held the machine.

At eight o'clock more, new buyers run out because buyers already know that the minimarket will close pukup eight.

After I finished locking the door, I rushed back to Santi's house.

Up there, Alya immediately ran around hugging me.

"Dad. . .!" yells.

I immediately returned his embrace, "Yes, dear. How, do you feel at home aunt Santi?"

My daughter immediately nodded, "Absolutely at home, Dad! Aunt Santi is so good! We made rainbow cake, really good. Keep learning to swim too." he chirped cheerfully.

"Dad, come home!" Andre was standing next to us.

I took off Alya's embrace. Then look at Andre and Santi next to him. I don't know why, I saw his face beaming.

"Come, we're home!" sahutku.

"Just take my car!" tawar Santi's.

"We're going to take a aunt's car?" alya asked with a faint smile.

"Thank you,mbak. Let's just ride a motorcycle," I refused subtly.

"It's been a really big night, mas. Poor kids with the night wind. Far away too," said Santi.

I'm really in a dilemma between thinking about the comfort and safety of my two children or my pride, of course, if I have to borrow Santi's car.

"But?" I was confused as to what to answer.

Santi put his car keys in my hand. He trusted me who had not known him for a long time.

"Just use it, mas! Poor Alya and Andre, must be sleepy too."

With a heavy heart I finally accepted Santi's offer, "Well, let's go. I borrow the car, tomorrow morning I come here and pick up mbak to minimarket!"

Santi's mother immediately smiled, "Yes,mas!"

"Let's go kids, we're home!" take me.

"Suddenly the aunt brought a big plastic bag from the inside, "Mom, this is missing!" said it.

"Oh, yeah. You almost forgot to bring this!" said mbak Santi.

"Eh, yeah. We almost forgot!" chirps Alya.

"Loh, what is this?" manya curious.

"The same avocado, yeah. But the avocado's still raw, is it te?" obviously Alya while staring at Santi.

"Yes it's raw. Wait a few days to be deadeng, kok!"

I shook my head, "Hhmm, forgive my kids yes, let's go. They must be a hassle!"

"No, mom! They're sweet kids!" sahut mbak Santi's.

"Then let's go home, take it!" pamitku then put the fruits into the car.

"Dad, where are we sitting?" ask Andre.

"It's up to you to sit in front of what's behind!" sahutku.

"I'm just behind, Dad. Want to sleep," said Andre.

"Yes already,ayo."

"You've had dinner, son? If not, we buy it outside." I asked my children.

"We had dinner last night at Santi's aunt's house. Aunty cuisine is so good, yah!" sahut Alya's.

"Yes, we're going straight home, yeah!"

"Yes, yeah. I'm sleepy!" sahut Alya's.

When I looked back, Andre was asleep.

***

Since Santi and my children met, they so often communicate via mobile phone until sometimes scramble or directly chat three.

In the minimarket also mbak Santi look more cheerful, and I must admit she looks more beautiful even though still with a thin makeup polish.

"Mas, tomorrow's Sunday. Andre and Alya took her home again, did they?" the door with a pleading face. It became harder for me to refuse his request.

"Hmm, I asked them first yes mbak want what not," I said.

"I asked Andre and Alya. And they want to."

Yes indeed I know that my children would want me to take him back home mbak Santi. Every day Alya always asks when else to play to Santi's aunt's house.

If Andre is more because he wants to climb a rambutan tree and eat directly in the tree. Almost every day they tell stories cool at home mbak Santi. My kids are not having a vacation.

"Hmm, be good mbak," I said later. And that smile immediately grew perfect. She looks so beautiful in my eyes. Astagfirullah. I cannot admire him who is not mine.

I'm rushing to the warehouse. I don't want to get carried away. Am I starting to like it? I don't know, I'm still confused.

And Sunday came back without feeling. Both my children from dawn were ready, even Andre without being told to cook rice and Alya cleaned up the room while I was washing clothes.

"Dad, I made some fried rice. It must be good, it'll be cold!" andre shouted as I was drying my clothes.

"Yes, son. I'll be done soon." I said.

When I went back into the room, I was shocked by my children. Room is really neat. Fried rice plus eggs and crackers are held on the floor with mats. Not to forget the warm tea.

I smile at them.

"Father's children are very diligent!" my praise.

"Come, sucker father!" exclaim Alya.

"Patience, son. Why the hell rush, it's also six."

"Let's hurry up to Santi's aunt's house, dad!"

"Why can't you wait for Santi's aunt's house? Don't tell me because of the rambutan tree, huh? Later if the fruit runs out, you no longer want to go there. It's poor aunt Santi."

"Dad be her husband Santi's aunt, dad! Let's just stay there!" exclaim Alya.

I glanced at Andre. The boy was silent.

"But Andre didn't want me to be Santi's aunt's husband!" my spoken.

"Mas Andre doesn't like Aunt Santi to be our mother?" Alya looked towards her brother.

Andre scratched his head, "Hhmm, I don't know yet!" saith.

Yes, I totally understand. Maybe Andre was hesitant or maybe my firstborn was still traumatized in his mother's home.

.

.

.

.

.

10