MY HEART HAS DIJLEB-JLEBIN YOU
UWUW THIN-THIN
“Kalo you want to tell me who the father of the child conceived Love, Grandpa will also tell you where Ushi will move. How's it? Deal?"
“You don't know?” Zaim. “Gua likes revisian the most. So say the same Grandpa cave wants first barter.”
“Unwanted grandfather.”
“You don't have to barter. Easy right?” sahut Zaim wearing his suit draped on the back of the sofa.
“But seriously you won't miesel?”
“You should be like Grandpa.” Zaim looked at Hendri. “You don't know either? As long as the cave does not say yes, no one will be able to know who the father of the child conceived Kasih.”
Zaim passed into the meeting room, leaving Hendri and Nisma who had just arrived in his study. Although Zaim's body was in that very cold meeting room, his mind went everywhere. Actually what was the reason Ushi wanted to move secretly? Where is Ushi planning to move? And could the reason for Ushi's move have anything to do with Safi? Or even Al Hakam?
Can't do. For whatever sake Zaim can no longer dampen his curiosity. Evidently from Zaim who immediately called Ushi shortly after he ended the meeting. But there's no answer. Zaim also changed to call Bastian who was on a mission to escort the lover secretly, intending to ask the whereabouts of Ushi who might be with Nia. But the same, there is no answer. Goddamnit!
Feeling no choice to calm his curiosity, Zaim went to meet Ushi at his workplace, Legend Studio. When Zaim arrived there, it was seen Ushi was running to and fro, busy taking care of this. Zaim could have gone straight to Ushi and forced him to take his time, but waiting until his future father-in-law was a little relaxed did not feel too bad. Yet.
“There are,” said a young courier while looking down to check each car plate in the Legend Studio parking area. “Then naro ordered the package on the hood of the car? Who the hell is the recipient?” The courier read the text on the 220-sheet tissue-sized package. “Ushi Widhi-”
“Can I help?”
“Eh? Mr Zaim? Mr Zaim Alfarezi yes?” The courier pointed to Zaim who had just got out of his car.
“Iya. May I help?”
“That's a damn thing, sir. Do you know Ushi Widhiani?”
“Same time camer himself does not know,” reply Zaim.
“Eh? Camer?” The courier was silent for a moment, then suddenly tapped his seat hard. “Oh yes. Ushi Widhiani is his mother, his girlfriend, Mr. Zaim. Sorry-sorry, Mr.”
“Kalo really forgot mah no need to apologize.” Zaim smiled as he patted the courier's shoulder repeatedly. “His car is not parked here.” Zaim searched the parking area. “Try searching in basement. Plate no-”
“I'm in a hurry, Mr. Zaim,” by courier. “Soalnya there is still one package that I have to anter and the place is far away. Please Mr. Zaim aja who give the package.”
“OK. But confirmation also to Bu Ushinya yes.”
“Siap, Sir. Thank you very much, Mr. Zaim. If so, excuse me.” The courier passed.
Zaim's gaze, which had originally been fixed on the young courier walking half-run, now turned to a very light weight package in his grasp. Zaim flipped through Ushi's package, stepping into the basement parking lot. But suddenly Ushi appeared with a sigh, and snatched the package while throwing an explanation that even Zaim did not ask.
“This is my temen package. Not my own. Bottom line ..”
...•▪•▪•▪•▪•...
On the way to one of the most famous beachside restaurants, Zaim was completely out of focus. Not only does not focus on listening to the lover who is not stopping raving but also does not focus on stepping on the gas of his car. Again Zaim's thoughts were elsewhere, precisely in Ushi's studio. Honestly, until now, Zaim still thinks about the intentions of Ushi's attitude this afternoon.
*FLASHBACK ON*
“ ... The point is this is nothing.” Ushi hugged her package.
“I didn't say anything either, Ms.”
Ushi cleared his throat, “But at least you must be curious what is it?”
“Iya but not as strange as that too anyway, Bu.”
Ushi cleared his throat again. “These are just items that are difficult to find in Jakarta really. That's it."
Ushi still cleared his throat, “You read? I mean the writing on this package?”
“Iya I read but only at a glance.”
Ushi reflex heaved a sigh of relief, even a smile that was no less relieved.
“But I can sip even three pages of newspaper even if only I read at a glance,” added Zaim.
DEG
“You want me to proof, Bu?”
DEG
Zaim still continues, “Sender, Edo Nugroho. Address, Asem Raya Coral Housing 11 Blok H Rt 008 Rw 08 Londobondo Village Gersing District Semarang. Telphone number, 081100011100. Office address ..”
*FLASHBACK OFF*
“Za!” exclaim Nia.
“Oh yes, Dear. Why?”
“Fix you didn't hear me.”
“Sorry, Dear. I was la-”
“Margin her car,” by Nia. “To situ cepet.”
“But we want to eat, Sa-”
“Cepet no?” sela Nia again, while pressing every letter she threw.
Zaim's feelings were suddenly mixed, worried in case Nia was angry because she felt ignored. Zaim pulled his car over to the shoulder of the road. Silence ruled for a few seconds, but immediately melted when Nia said something that Zaim never thought. No, not a break up. Moreover, angry made-up like a high school kid who is late for puberty!
“Today I thought you knew. You are rich with many thoughts. And I don't think it's about work.” Nia looked at Zaim. “You don't think I'm a potato, right?”
Spontaneous Zaim held back his laughter. “Cock potatoes?”
“Ya continues? Mbote*?” Nia sighed. “I'm waiting for you to share with me but not share. Where I also can not mean you to share because you are afraid of not being able to provide solutions anymore. But I can be a listener. Aye right?”
*Mbote is a type of tubers that thrive in Java. Mbote looks almost the same as radish with a round shape and fibrous skin. The average weight of each mbote is up to two kilograms.
“Honey, de-”
“Dating is not only about dating or physical contact but also sharing. Sharing dong with me. Whether it's a work problem, a personal problem or something else. You're dating the same I don't just want a date with physical contact doang right?”
“Iya.”
“Serious dih.” Nia hit Zaim.
“Iya I'm serious. Dating I like. But which I prefer physical contact.”
Nia who was at a loss for words could only respond to Zaim with a punch. But instead of apologizing for admitting his mistake, Zaim instead let go of the amused laughter that he had been held half-dead, and was willing to be made into a punching bag by the lover. Justjust wonderful. Is this proof of the speech of poets who are often branded as braggars? That the words of our loved ones can be a panacea for a troubled heart?
“Content, Honey,” Zaim added while grabbing Nia's hand and pecking her. “Just hold my hand for whatever happens. Promise?”
Nia nodded. “Appointments.”