Companion To Paris
Mama said

Mama took her daughter-in-law to the bedroom. Sandra followed them behind. Paris lay on a bed with her eyes closed. He tried to stop the discomfort.

"So this pale Parisian condition because he did not like Sandra's perfume?" tanya Biema wanted to know if her opinion was correct. Because it was also strange in his ears.

"Maybe." Mama is still smiling. It was like he knew something. Paris who had closed her eyes because she wanted to be uncomfortable in her stomach did not bother her, now opened her eyes. He heard all of their conversations. But he himself did not understand what they were talking about. "Just rest you guys. Biema may not be one hundred percent healthy. Paris may also be exhausted and so on. Mama's gonna come downstairs and call the doctor here" said Mama.

"Paris is nothing, Ma," said Paris trying to wake up.

"Don't. Don'tget up. Mama knows. Alright. You can rest." Mom smiled. "Sandra, let's go out. Didn't you just leave?"

"Yes. Sandra wants to go out with friends," Sandra was enthusiastic. The girl answered cheerfully. The sound of Mom and Sandra's footsteps slowly disappeared. They've gone downstairs like.

"Are you okay?" asked Biema who started to fall beside him. Paris who had been looking at the door, now turned to Biema.

"Yes." Yeah."

"Your face looks pale. I'm sure you're sick." Biema self-diagnoses. The head of Paris shook his head.

"I'm not sick. My stomach is just uncomfortable. Now it's even okay."

"really?" tanya Biema was worried. Paris slipped her hand under Biema's arm. Hugged the man tightly.

"Look. I can hold you like this. That means I'm healthy" said Paris, who placed her cheek on the chest of the man's field.

"Is it because you're allergic to perfume?" Biema hugged Paris' body as well.

"I don't understand, but it's possible. The smell of Sandra's perfume was so stinging, I felt like throwing up" said Paris. Biema stroked his wife's hair gently.

"really. Sandra's perfume does hurt people's sense of smell" Biema sneered. Paris laughed slowly. "Don't hurt. I keep worrying."

"I'm also anxious when you who are usually healthy and strong, suddenly get sick." Paris retaliated. They're still hugging.

"Strong yes ..." Biema smiled obliquely.

"Why laugh? Isn't that not funny?" ask Paris.

"It's okay. I'll heal quickly. Because I don't like being sick either. I'd rather be healthy and strong." Biema pecked at his wife's head.

"Sandra. You better not get too close to your sister," asked Mama as they both arrived downstairs to make this girl's move stop.

"Why?" Sandra's amazed.

"It looks like your sister is very sensitive to the scent of perfume" said Mama explained. Apparently he was aware. Biema. He who had since looked at his wife with worry, began to pierce with the words of his mother.

"Sensitive? Since when? As far as I know, Paris never bothered with the fragrance of any perfume." Sandra knows very well Paris's favorite because they are best friends.

"Not long. Maybe it started lately. Or even from today," said the mother with a smile. Sandra frowned still not understanding.

**

The sun changed the moon. Evening disappears by night. Biema came down from upstairs. His feet moved towards the kitchen. His throat feels dry. He wanted to drink to wet his throat.

"Yes, Ma."

"Mama said Paris was sick too. How's things?" ask papa.

"Yes. But it's okay. It seems like he's tired of looking after me when I'm sick." Biema.

"How are you?" ask papa again.

"It's been quiet, Pa," Biema said.

"It's a good thing Biema's starting to sip, Pa. Not everything hurts." Mama added.

"really. Mercifully. You don't have to go home first. Just stay again." Papa gave advice.

"Yes" whispered Biema. "I don't plan on going home yet." After the conversation, he went to the back. Take a glass and open the fridge door. Pour water into his glass. Then take a sip of that cold water. It feels fresh in his throat.

"Biema, you better take your wife to the doctor." She appeared in the kitchen following her son. He took the fruit on the table.

"Yes. Actually, I'm taking her to the doctor in the morning. Because it looks like he still doesn't want to be checked out right now. Does he have to check because of that perfume allergy, Ma? Mama was worried about that .." asked Biema as she approached the dinner table.

"No. Mama's not worried about that." The mother who was still turning to pick up the fruit knife smiled hearing her son's question.

"Then? He looks healthy, though a little pale. Maybe there's no need to see a doctor." Biema started sitting at the dinner table. The mother who had collected the knife and the fruit in her hand stopped at the dinner table. Look out for a while, then sit down with your son.

"Mama knows, but .. You should still take her to the doctor. Because maybe she was pregnant," said the mother immediately made Biema freeze for a moment.

"Can I repeat, Ma?" biema asked later, feeling unsure of what she had heard just now.

"Yes ... Maybe your wife is pregnant." Mama Biema said it again. He smiled when he said it. Biema looked at her mother in disbelief.

"H-pregnant, Ma?" asked Biema who leaned her body towards her mother stammering. The glass in his hand trembled because this man was so shocked. The head of the mother nodded with a smile on her lips.

Biema moved backwards putting her back on the body of the chair. Sighs long.

"It has. Mama's going ahead. Your father wants to eat pears." Mama stand. Then touched Biema's hand for a while, before leaving her son alone. "Biema. You can buy a pregnancy test first if you don't want to see a doctor right away." After saying that, he walked away from the kitchen.

"Pregnant? Paris?" The look on Biema's face that had been frozen because she was stunned to hear this happy news, now spread happy. He immediately finished his drink and headed to the fridge again. Take a box of cold gelatin and go upstairs.

His steps were wide because he was happy. Her face was also brightly happy. This guy's a pleasure. This upstairs feels so close. Because he got there fast. Biema opened the room door slowly.

"Biema?" Paris is awake. He had already opened his eyes while still covered.

"I think you're still sleeping. Just go to sleep again because you really need a break." Biema closed the door.

"No. I want to wake up. That's what?" point Paris at the box her husband is carrying.

"Agar-agar. You want?" bargain Biema while showing off the container. Paris nodded his head enthusiastically. She's happy. He seems to like it so much.