Almahyras
Section 51

It says Amanah Store on a rectangular contact-shaped outlet. Like a typical restaurant, it doesn't look elite. But clean and comfortable for visitors, welcome when entering through the front kitchen smelled the aroma of delicious cuisine. Alma became curious about every menu sold in this store.

"Mas Jafar's wife's mother?" ask a male staff member with a tag name: Seno.

"I .. yes. Why yes, Mum?"

At the seating table the male staff visitor put the menu that Jafar had brought was boneless fish, sambal, lalapan and iced tea.

"Make me?"

"Yes, Mother. From Mas Jafar." From the front pocket the male staff took out a piece of paper and placed it on the table. "This is an additional letter. Please enjoy, Ma'am."

"Thank you."

Jafar did enter the kitchen directly, perhaps to see the state of the cooking place. So her husband asked her to wait in the corner seat that was adjacent to the visitor's seat. His right and left hand opened the letter, curious about what was behind the piece of paper.

First menu for, Mrs Alma.

Please try. If there is a complaint contact me as the person who cooked this menu for you. Enjoyably.

Greetings, Jafar.

Alma laughed lightly. Is it romantic or is it obligatory to feed the wife? A piece of paper was folded back. His hand picked up the available spoon on the table, the intention of the heart actually wanted to eat using his hands directly, but again because there was a sambal he was afraid that the heat in the hand would not disappear.

"Hmm .. delicious. I guess usually." Alma shook her head strongly. "Nonsense. Not usually, it's kayak ... better."

"Is it because my husband cooks, huh?" alma continued muttering.

The kling!

The string he placed beside the spoon rang and trembled. Who is bothering him to eat?

"Mardi?"

Mardiyah

I heard from Ummi you two were walking together. Enjoy your time together.

Later after returning home, can you and Jafar stop by for a while to the orphanage?

Alma's forehead wrinkled. "Not usually he asks me to go with Mas Jafar all of a sudden to the parlour."

^^^Can, Mar. Insha'allah.^^^

Bribe after mouthful Alma did it slowly, while looking at the traffic of two and four-wheeled vehicles. It seems that he had not seen a crowded urban area for a long time, last before Bibi Maryam left for Malaysia.

Jafar suddenly took a seat in the front seat. The sharp Netra looked at him incessantly, with no intention of writing or what Jafar just sat up straight and focused on.

"Don't look at me."

The Netra never changed another look, keep staring at Alma.

"Enak, really. Tasty. No complaints."

Alma looked up - her senses instantly met a gaze with Jafar. "Please yes ... Mas. I'm eating again, how can I eat again if you keep looking at me like a gini?"

Thin smile Jafar show. The man took out a pen and paper and wrote there. "spent. Then come with me to the room."

"Ru .. wishful thinking? Like that kind of office, huh? Or some kind of place to rest if you come to the outlet?"

"Sort of everything you call," wrote Jafar.

The food is over. He drinks iced tea in a straw, which is delicious too. What else is it because of what makes Jafar? Inevitably the dream husbands of the girls. He feels very lucky.

"Udah. Come on, Mas," said Alma with a stand-up holding Jafar's hand.

Jafar glanced at him again.

"What?"

Jafar shook his head and turned the arm into a tight grip. The wooden door reads, only the staff allowed to enter is opened by Jafar. Alma thought it was just one small room, apparently when he entered. It's sprawling. There is a kind of space to sit in the middle, there are also some vegetable stocks, rice and others. And he was pulled into the left corner room that read Mr. Jafar's room. Alma thought to herself, what wrote that to her husband?

"Sit down."

"What?" Alma looked at the long sofa that Jafar was showing. "Sitting down?"

Jafar nodded.

"Ja ... in, is this your room?" Alma's view circulated around this room with shades of gray and white that dominated. Almost the same as at home. There's no air conditioning, but there's a pretty strong fan. "good. Comfortable too."

"here. You're also sitting next to me, Mommy."

Gawai in his gamis pocket, Alma took out and showed a short message from Mardiyah.

"I got a gini, Mas. Later ingetin, huh? If we want to stop by the parlor. I'm afraid to forget."

Jafar nodded.

"Mas ... by the way about Mardiyah .. You're from a small age the same as her, huh?"

Jafar nodded and took over Alma's device, opened the note and wrote app. "We grew up together, with Lutfan too. Why indeed?"

"No pa-pa. I just asked. Keep ... he's the same as you used to be?"

"Then and now, we're still friends. Or rather he was already like my own sister" Jafar wrote.

Alma's forehead shriveled. "What's wrong, Mas? You're the same Mardiyah is not a brother. Keep ... You know he never liked you?"

His wife's hand on the thigh, Jafar rubbed slowly. "Am I mistakenly thought he was a sister? And after all, there was never more flavor I gave to Mardiyah. Because from the beginning I knew that Lutfan could take care of and take responsibility for the girl who as a child loved him more as an older brother than me" Jafar wrote.

"You're pretty sure Lutfan likes Mardiyah from a small age."

"I'm sure because I grew up with them" Jafar wrote.

Alma nodded her head. "If for example .. I became your little friend too, and grew up in an orphanage too. Are you gonna have more feelings for me, Mom?"

Jafar looked at it for a moment, one of his eyebrows raised. "Your questions are getting weird."

There is a pause in the note app. "Growing up together or not, we will still be united when your resolve is me."

Reading what Jafar wrote, Alma's right hand was lifted up and her husband's black mane turned back. Several times, he even brought his face closer to inhale Jafar's intoxicating body scent.

"Yeah, I get it."

Jafar leaned on the couch enjoying Alma-treatment with his hands still typing. And twenty seconds passed, he stopped his wife's gentle movements, asking Alma to read the writing on the device.

"I'm not tired." Alma stared at the door for a moment. "If you want to go out, yes. I'm waiting here, Mommy."

Jafar came out, and Alma threw herself down on the long gray sofa. Padded. Why did he suddenly feel sleepy? Sleep for a while, no problem, right? His net was closed slowly, his breathing was regular and he had drowned in sleep.

...🌺...

Her tiny body felt in the nosy, in a slow shake on the shoulder. Who the fuck? The net is still closed refusing to open up. But again her tiny body was shaken, this time in the hip, spontaneously beautiful net opened.

"Oh Allah Mas ... Who am I?"

Alma got up, changed her position to sit down.

"I'm sorry, I overslept."

Jafar shook his head as if to say, it's okay. Jafar's hand lifted along to justify the irregular layout of his veil, stuck there and here.

"There's a toilet, Mom?"

Jafar stood up.

"Why do you want to take me?"

Jafar nodded his hand slowly, demanding to go out to the toilet which was one room with this place.

"Lake in."

Seeing Jafar's lips move, Alma nodded. "Wait for me, Mom?"

Alma washes his face, so that at least it looks fresh, a fortune there is also a small glass there. Alma took out the powder in the tote bag and slapped it thinly on her face that had dried. "OKAY. It seemed a little bigger than it was" he murmured.

Alma out. And it looks like Jafar is talking to one of his staff. A second later Jafar turned around, perhaps the staff told him he had come out of the toilet. Jafar approached, and showed him the notebook he was carrying. "We're leaving now. There's nothing left of you inside, is there?" write Jafar.

"Nothing, Mom. Come on!"

Cak Yanto was waiting in the car, he drove the car at normal speed. Again this view looks familiar, the difference may be this time the sun is blazing. Soon enter the time of prayer zuhur, Alma estimates Jafar will definitely ask Cak Yanto to stop at the nearest Mosque.

The kling!

Alma thought her gawai sounded, it wasn't. The string that reads belongs to Jafar. And suddenly her husband shifted to sit closer, and pointed to the writing typed earlier. "Ummi was texting, he said if we can before we go home we have to visit the orphanage for a while."

"What's up, huh? Not usually." Alma looked at Jafar. "Have you asked, Mom?"

"It has. It seems like this later, I want to work fast. So I decided to stop for just fifteen minutes at each outlet. You're okay, aren't you?" write Jafar.

Alma nodded. "No pa-pa. Let's finish up soon, too."

"If you are tired. You talk to me" Jafar wrote.

"Yes, Mum."

Azan zuhur reverberated, Jafar said to continue to go because the journey is less than eight minutes, it must be enough and when arriving at the outlet may be right ikamah. Jafar's guess is right. Alma got out of the car, Jafar immediately asked him to enter Mushola, to take wudu. And the prayer of the Zuhr is carried out twice alternately and congregated: Alma, Jafar, and Cak Yanto the first session.

After it was over, Jafar quickly entered his study. While Alma chose to wait in the car alone with the door open with Cak Yanto.

"The plan is the same Ma'am Mas Jafar want to have how many mothers anyway?" ask Cak Yanto.

Alma who was originally silent playing the device, looked up at the front seat seat. "If you want how much I want two, Cak. But if God loves her more I want to."

"Hopefully hurry up, Ma'am."

Cak Yanto started the car engine when he saw Jafar was approaching. All the car doors were closed, the coolant was turned on, and Jafar had entered. Subsequent destinations, outlets to three, four, five, six and last outlets to seven.

Around five in the afternoon the sky let out a tinge of orange red, he and Jafar had just left the last outlet. Actually, Jafar should have just returned home, but because of the request of Ummi Salamah, her husband had to go to the orphanage as soon as possible.

Jafar's left hand holding the device is brought close. Until the man's hand rested on the thigh clad in black robe. "You tired?" write Jafar.

"Little bit. You how? Tired?"

Jafar's hand lifted up and typed again on the device. "I'm used to it."

"I'm not asking if you're used to it or not. I asked you tired?"

He heard a slow breath, Jafar's left and right hands re-typed. "Little bit. I'm a little tired."

"here." Alma shifted more cornered, and patted both of her thighs. "This is the head. I'm incandescent too, let's get tired of it."

Netra Jafar glanced forward. Alma understood his point, perhaps Jafar did not feel well with Cak Yanto-with Alma slowly cleared his throat. "Cacak, Mas Jafar would sleep undeterred, if there is anything to tell me, Cak."

"Express, Ma'am. Monggo Mas Jafar sleeps not pa-pa, the journey is still quite good," replied Cak Yanto.

Alma tilted her head with her next eyebrow raised. "Let's fall here. No pa-pa, my mother."

Jafar's head was laid down on Alma's thigh, his body tilted slightly curled up. A gentle swipe on the forehead that becomes the first greeting makes drowsiness attack suddenly. Netra Jafar closed enjoying a swipe.

"Where did you get to, sister?"

Cak Yanto replied, "Lake the highway alley, Ma'am."

"Here we come, huh, Cak?"

"In the meantime, Ma'am, ndak pa-pa barin Mas Jafarar rest," replied Cak Yanto.

Black daihatsu car entering the courtyard of Al-Hikmah orphanage, Alma's forehead shriveled to see in front of Umma Sarah's house there were so many senior santri, there is also Banyu who usually helps the event once a month in the orphanage. What was? Everything's all right, right? Alma lowered his head for a moment, swaying Jafar's body slowly.

"Mas ... Jafar, it has arrived. Come on down, Mas."

Netra Jafar opened slowly. Cak Yanto has come down first to enter the residence of Umma Sarah. While the newly awakened Jafar looks confused also see how crowded it is out there.

"I don't know what's going on either, Mom. Let's go down directly."

Alma and Jafar down. As he approached the doorway he heard the sound of crying from Umma Sarah, and the whispers of people talking about Lutfan. And just as he entered, Umm Salamah was seen hugging Umm Sarah tightly, next to him was Salwa.

"W-what's Ummi?"

Salwa who was at the moment looked at him tearfully. "Mas Lutfan accident, brother."

Note:

This part is long. Spirit of dong, dear.

Wkwk. It's in the mood, so the writing is good.