Almahyras
Section 35

"Outside when we have children. Would she be ashamed to have a father who couldn't talk like me?" write Jafar.

Alma.

"I don't want him to feel unlucky for having a Dad like me, Alma," Jafar wrote.

Alma's right hand lifted-touch her husband's left hand and clasped tightly, then stared straight at the orange sky that began to sink. "You question something like that. How many times have you asked the same question to someone who is about to enter life?"

"You're aware?" Alma looked at Jafar from the side. "With you asking like that .. you make yourself hurt. And make others forget all their shortcomings."

Jafar looked at Alma as if asking, how can it be? The gaze of both Alma broke unilaterally by looking straight ahead.

"Humans will feel superior when they know other human weaknesses."

Alma shook her head slowly. "I'm not asking you to look strong in front of people. . I'm just asking, you have to believe in yourself."

"Again, you don't have to try as hard as you can to be accepted by others." Alma looked back, with a smile she said, "I'm here."

"You got me here."

Pause of three seconds, Jafar looked back at him in the shade. Alma again smiled and said, "And about ... our son?"

"You forgot? They will have a mother like me. You have to believe that I can educate them well" Alma said.

Azan magrib had passed by about two minutes ago. Each of Alma's words really hypnotized Jafar, making it seem as if he did not believe that there was such a person to accept him - even if he did not necessarily love him. After all Jafar understands that love will slowly come.

"Allah has been the Azaan. Go, go!" bring Alma.

Jafar's hand was held by Alma to the border of the male pesantren, both separated. Not to forget, before that Alma said goodbye by kissing the back of her husband's hand, and Jafar kissed Alma's forehead briefly.

Fortunately a little quiet, maybe only some people who see the romance of this rigid pesantren Gus.

"Sister Alma!"

The cry was heard from Salwa who was running towards Alma in a hurry.

"Why are you running?"

Salwa smiled widely until her teeth were seen. "Nob off? No praying, right?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Let's go to the parlor, brother! I miss playing there. Goodness times Aunt Salamah ngizinin me if there the same Sister-in-law," said Salwa.

Alma chuckled, it could be that Kiai Bashir's granddaughter is trying to persuade him. Indeed, who would want to be met at the orphanage, so that Salwa wants to go there?

"Sister has to go to Brother's husband, Sal."

"Yes-yes Brother's husband. Getting married! Show-off ..."

Alma. "What's showing off? It is the obligation of the wife if everywhere it must get the husband's permission. Later if you are married too. Huh, ah! Brother's going to rest."

His small steps entered a fairly quiet house. Because Ummi Salamah was already preparing in the pesantren Mosque and Jafar clearly had already departed to worship. In this house there is only him and Mbok Isna who still has not said goodbye to go home.

The kling!

The voice of the device in his hand.

Asyifanf

Brother Alma.

No news.

Brother is fine, isn't he?

To say well, maybe Alma is good. But to feel very, very good. Sure didn't.

^^^I'm fine, Syifa.^^^

^^^Where are your wedding preparations?^^^

Asyifanf

95% is ready, brother!

Brother have any good news?

My brother did not tell those stories

Alma smiled a flashlight. What could her sudden marriage also be called with glad tidings by people?

Syifa, I'm married.^^^

^^^Sorry just gave you the news.^^^

Syifa is calling ...

^^^Don't call me now, Syifa.^^^

^^^You want to be a bride, not good I stories like that.^^^

^^^Now you are focused.^^^

^^^Assalamualaikum.^^^

Alma turned off the data so as not to receive messages from anyone else. Rest is a choice. It was fortunate that his stomach did not cramp, still compromised, he walked towards the kitchen-taking a drink.

Praangggs!

The glass in Alma's hand fell down as he saw a tall man with a thin mustache and slightly shaggy hair standing in front of him.

"Who are you?"

The man smiled. From the direction of the kitchen hall Mbok Isna also came that he believed he might be surprised to hear the sound of broken glass.

"What's up, Nduk?" Mbok Isna looked at Alma and the man in turn. "This ... Mbok's grandson, Nduk. Dimas. Sorry to surprise you, didn't I?"

"Cu-cu?"

Mbok Isna nodded. "Maybe Ummi forgot to tell you. If every Friday with Mbok's grandson help here, Nduk."

"O-oh, is that it, Mbok? No pa-pa, Mbok."

Alma spontaneously crouched down to clean up some broken glass. But suddenly the man took over, even accidentally or not touching his hand.

"I'm not pa-pa."

Mbok Isna is approaching. "Yes, Nduk. Ndak pa-pa let Mbok's grandchildren."

...🌺...

Not not dislike. Alma was just a little uncomfortable. How could there suddenly be a man? He was surprised not to play, because after all there were only women in this house. What if he suddenly opened the veil or did something else?

It's not Ummi's fault either. Maybe he forgot.

The door to his room is open. Jafar came and took a seat at the side.

"How come you're not in a mosque? Didn't it start immediately?"

Jafar pulled out his gawai and typed. "Ummi forgot to tell me that there is Dimas grandson of Mbok Isna who helps here every Friday together."

"Yes." Yeah."

"Have you met him?" write Jafar.

Alma nodded. "It."

"Other times, if there's something I don't already know please tell me first. Then I accidentally broke the glass, I was surprised there was a man in the kitchen," said Alma.

Jafar's forehead shriveled, then typed. "Kitchen? When did you meet her in the kitchen?"

"Magrib time. How can she help him in the kitchen?"

Jafar. Then he shook his head and typed. "Help to lift heavy things. Next time you don't come on Friday with you, you can go to the orphanage."

"Yes. It just so happened that Salwa took me to the orphanage. But I refuse, afraid you're not ngizinin."

"You can ask my permission in a short message" Jafar wrote.

Alma leaned closer and leaned on Jafar and said anxiously. "I want permission to go straight to you."

Jafar's right hand raised rubbed the head of his wife covered with a veil. Her net was staring at Alma many times happily, rarely did this girl in front of her display an adorable face.

"Hmm .. By the way you want me to call the prefix ... Isn't she? Or ... Gus?"

Again Jafar laughed, his hand this time typing. "So this wife of mine wants to call her husband with a more polite call?"

"I'm making another offer. If you don't want no pa-pa. No bother also I have to call your name long-term use Mas frills or whatever," said Alma who sounded like a dodger in Jafar's ears.

"Actually, I was waiting for a time where you offered such a call to me" Jafar wrote.

Alma's left eyebrow raised. "Ja .. at? Which do you like? Gus? A brother? Mas or Aa?"

"Just. Try to practice, I want to hear you call me with that polite prefix" Jafar wrote.

Alma smiled in a knot, turning the seat across both legs and facing Jafar who was looking at it from the side. Then leaning slightly, Alma approached Jafar's ear and whispered, "Mas Jafar ..."

Note:

The POV Jafar. Required thing.