Why Different?

The Day

The rolling hour after hour brought the awaited day in anxious hopes to finally arrive as well. Early in the morning, at about 9, Juan was well dressed, standing at the door of Zahira's house, waiting for the idol to come out of the house and they would go to the Big House to meet Mama.

Last night, she called Mama first, warning her mother to keep her attitude because she didn't want Zahira to feel uncomfortable at their first meeting. By phone, Mama agreed to her request. But even so, there are still a little feelings of anxiety that haunt, afraid in case the word yes that Mama said last night is only a mere formality.

“Nope. Stay positive, Juan. Everything will be okay, don't worry.” His words strengthen themselves. Because if he falters, who will convince Zahira that they can get through everything?

Fifteen minutes waiting, Zahira finally appeared from inside the house. The woman wore a dark blue robe with a lace motif on the waist that makes her waist look small. A matching color veil wrapped in his head is laid out a little neater than usual. While in the left hand of the woman, there is a paper bag that does not know what it contains.

“Ready?” juan asked, extending a hand.

Zahira greeted him nervously, then clasped him tightly to gain additional energy.

“Ju,” call Zahira as they walk towards the online taxi already waiting in front of the fence.

Juan stopped his steps, because Zahira did the same thing first. “Why, Dear?” ask her with a sweet smile.

Instead of smiling back as usual, Zahira even seemed increasingly riled up. He moved uncomfortably, repeatedly looking down at his own appearance.

“Hey, why?” ask Juan. The pointy chin of his lover Juan lifted, so that he could look directly at the beautiful bead that he adored. “What's up, hmm?”

“I'm pretty yet, anyway? I mean, is it neat yet my makeup? Do I make up less? My clothes aren't scuffed, are they?” ask Zahira.

Juan smiled faintly at the worries of his lover. Then steadily, he shook his head. “Nothing is lacking. You're perfect, just the way you are. Oh, wait, you're always perfect in my eyes, Za.” Convincingly.

“I'm serious, Ju.”

“I am also serious, Zahira, My dear, My Love, My Love.” Said Juan with his anxiety. He pinched the nose of Zahira so anxious. “Nothing less at all, trust me.”

“Yakin?”

“Yakin.”

As if still unsatisfied, Zahira sighed instead.

“You don't believe me?” juan asked as Zahira lowered her head again.

“I don't believe in myself.” Zahira's great-grandson.

This made Juan unacceptable. Hey, no one should doubt a Zahira Casanova, even if it is herself!

“Stop!” sergeant Juan. He pulled back Zahira's chin. This time, he looked at his lover more closely. “You’re beautiful. Fix, no debate. Anyway, when I say you're beautiful, it means you're beautiful. You have to believe, you can't.”

“But, kan—“

“No but-fireplace. Okay, let's go now. Pity that sir the driver has been waiting from earlier.” Then Juan pulled Zahira closer. Make sure the woman's arm is clinging to hers so she can hold her hand tighter.

“Trust me, everything will be okay.” Whisper for the last time, before they get into the cab.

...🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁...

“Thank you.” Juan smiled at the taxi driver who had delivered them safely to the Big House.

“Sama-sama, Mas.” The driver smiled back, then stepped on the gas pedal again, leaving the elite residential area with super tight guard.

“Come,” Juan again grabbed Zahira's hand, keeping it on the side of the body as they walked hand in hand closer to the towering fence of the house. The jet black color contrasts sharply with the building behind it which this time painted ivory white.

“I'm nervous, Ju.” Bisik Zahira's. His tiny stained fingers in Juan's grasp moved uneasily, even with his eyes unable to quietly explore the state of Juan's magnificent house like a palace.

“Quiet, there's me.” Juan tried to convince. The stock of his smile seemed to never run out, he continued to share freely with Zahira.

Before Zahira revealed her nervousness further, the gate in front of them opened. A middle-aged woman who appeared in a dark brown batik negligee, wearing blue white flip-flops and curling her hair appeared from behind the gate, welcoming their arrival as the Madam and Master.

“Mother is waiting, Den.” Said the woman.

“Thank you, Baby.” Juan chirps that had made Zahira gawk for a while. However, his astonishment did not last long as Juan again led him through a yard as wide as a football field.

Large ivory-white painted doors with luxurious looking handles open just as they are 3 meters away. A woman in her late 40s was seen running from inside the house, smiling as she spread her arms wide.

Before them, the woman wearing a maroon dress just ambushed Juan's body and hugged him tightly. Unstoppable longing. Chyntia repeatedly kissed Juan's cheeks, breaking his dense hair that was jet, until occasionally pinching a pointed nose that was exactly like hers.

“Mama is very similar to you, Ju.” His sister after being content to touch every side of his son's body that he missed.

Juan didn't react much, he just smiled and pulled Zahira closer. “Zahira.” Introducing said.

What was once a sumringah, Chyntia suddenly turned grim when she discovered the whereabouts of Zahira. In fact, she could only let her hands be greeted and kissed by Zahira without her knowing why the hooded woman did it. In their family, there was no such thing as a hand kiss scene. There are only chips and short hugs.

From there, isn't it clear that they are very different?

In fact, Chyntia was reluctant to accept Zahira's gift. But since he had to be kind so that Juan would not be angry, Chyntia would not accept the paper bag while smiling with force.

“Thank you.” Her speech.

“Sama-sama, Aunt. Hope you like.” Zahira.

Zahira realized that the smile that Juan's mother had put on her was not sincere at all, even with the thanks she had just heard. However, Zahira still tries to comfort herself by saying that they just need time.

“Where's reno?” juan's voice broke the awkwardness between the prospective daughter-in-law and the would-be-in-law.

“Against. Mami's with Papi too, your papa's too. At home There is only Mama same ART.”

Juan mangosteen. There are also benefits if it is true that there is only Mama at home. So, she can make Mama and Zahira interact more. Lose all complete family members, there Mama will be busy alone to avoid Zahira.

“By the way,” Juan glanced at his mother. “This is not asked to enter? Hot, loh, outside.”

“Ah, yes. Until forgot.” Chyntia chuckled softly. The digamitnya Juan's arm using one free hand, then led his son's body bongsor into the house. While Zahira he left behind and instead the ART was the one who allowed the woman to enter into their magnificent residence.

“You wait here, Mama there is something special for you.” Chyntia said as she sat Juan's body on the sofa. The woman then ran to the kitchen, carrying with her a paper bag given by Zahira.

Juan could only shake his head at his mother's behavior. Until the woman's back disappeared swallowed by the turn, he turned to Zahira who turned out to be still standing.

“Why are you standing there? Here, sit.” He patted the empty space next to him.

Zahira seemed hesitant, but in the end remained obedient and sat down next to him giving some distance.

Unwilling to LDR-an, Juan pulled Zahira by the waist, bringing the woman's body to actually sit right next to him.

“Ih! Don't get close, it's not good with your mama.” Zahira clapped softly on the back of Juan's hand, but the lover was just as gnawing as an innocent human.

In the end, Zahira had to let himself be monopolized by Juan. Unable to rebel because Juan's hand held his waist so he wouldn't go anywhere.

After struggling with what, Chyntia finally returned to the living room with a plate containing orange mango pudding. The soft texture of the pudding makes the snack look wobbly to the rhythm of the steps Chyntia swings in.

“Mama make your own, special for you.” The pudding and Chyntia put it on the glass table, right in front of Juan. “Cobain.”

Juan glanced at his mother at a glance, then plucked a piece of pudding using the cutlery that had been provided and immediately devoured it. “Enak.” Praise him, even before he started chewing.

The compliment made Chyntia smile. As a career woman whose life is more spent outside the home, she rarely wants to dwell on things that are close to the role of a mother. For over 20 years, the amount he cooked for Juan could be counted as a finger, and today it belongs to him.

“Eat again.” Chyntia pushed the plate closer towards Juan. His smile that was too wide made his neat rows of teeth plastered real without any obstructions. “Habisin.”

Juan obeyed his mother's wishes. One piece of pudding he took again. But this time, his mouth wasn't the mouth of that chewy, refreshing piece of pudding. Instead, he thrust the pudding in front of Zahira's mouth.

“Aaa..” her word with her mouth wide open. Just like complex fathers who are persuading their toddlers to eat.

Zahira glanced awkwardly at Chyntia who was sitting on the single sofa next to Juan. Then, having no other choice, Zahira devours the pudding that Juan feeds her.

Unlike Juan who immediately spoke in a state of mouth is still full, Zahira decided to finish chewing and swallow first all the pudding in the mouth before saying, “Enak.” As a sincere compliment. Not just pleasantries, because for that, he was also considered bad.

Unlike the reaction he showed when the praise came from Juan, Chyntia tends to be used to hearing compliments from Zahira. In fact, he does not look willing to pudding that he made painstakingly eaten by others, when in fact the pudding he intended for his only son.

But, yeah, that's it. There is no point in fussing about pudding. Most importantly for now, he can see Juan again.

“Mama don't want something like Zahira?” juan asked suddenly.

Suddenly, Chyntia became a wave made. The woman turned her head quickly towards Zahira, not knowing what to do when she found her son's lover was looking at him with shady eyes that seemed to say, “I am a good boy, Auntie. Please do not foein me.”

In order to drive away the uncomfortable feeling of being alone away, Chyntia cleared her throat several times. Before this, he was good at making small talk. As someone who dabbles in the business world, pleasantries are the basic skills that he must have. However, since he knew nothing about Zahira, Chyntia also became confused about what to mince words.

“Name is Zahira Casanova, age 26, want 27. His father was a high school teacher, his mother a housewife. Prospective doctor, again koas second year.” Juan shared the information with him without being asked. “That's basic information about Zahira. So, Mama can askin the others.” Came the man.

Not helpful. Chyntia is in the liver. Because the basic rule in a pleasantries according to the dictionary of his life is; the person must have more value. Simply put, the person he or she will talk to should have an impact on his or her life and business. Like for example colleagues, or prospective investors who must captivate his heart to smooth the plan.

While Zahira, the woman did not choose any more value in the eyes of Chyntia. In terms of business, he considered making small talk with Zahira would only waste time and bring losses.

Wanting to blow his head, Chyntia realized he still would not be able to find a good and correct way to talk with Zahira. So, he just gave up.

And luckily, the sound of the bell being pressed three times became a savior for him. With her passionate spirit, Chyntia got up from the sofa, then ran towards the front door.

“Mama stay open door first for a while.” He said before it passed.

Juan could only stop. And in that submission, she again clasped Zahira's hand to—again,—convincing her lover, that everything would be fine.

Seriate