The Beautiful Widow Belongs to the Police
11
Andre returns to Ranti's house after cleaning and changing clothes. He looked very handsome with the PDL uniform that he used, not forgetting the hat perched on the head, making the perfect appearance of the 27-year-old police.
"Assalamualaikum" he said from the door. Although he was used to visiting the house, without permission from the owner of the house he did not dare to step through the door.
"Vaalaikumsalam. Come in, Andre boy!" Ranti's screams came from inside.
Just as Andre was about to step up, suddenly a clap shocked him.
"Remain at the door? So the doorstop, sir?" naura asked as she breezed away, without waiting for the answer of the person she asked.
"I told you not to call me 'Sir'! I'm not your father!" sarkas Andre, who never accepted being called 'father' by Naura. Meanwhile, Naura raised only one hand, waving, unconcerned, as she continued to walk to meet her brother and mother.
"Thank you luck, rather than being able to spray pregnant women who have added your head!" Dimas also patted Andre's shoulder quite hard, making Andre moan in pain.
"Don't hit anyone? My body hurts all," said Andre.
"All the pain?" Dimas squinted one eye, recalling their conversation last night, making him think that Andre was playing around.
Seeing the suspicious eyes of the friend, Andre immediately punched Dimas' arm. "God! I'm a son of Soleh. Si Imin is still safely under control in his place until he finds the halal house to go home. Ara's pregnancy, why make you a kongslet rata?"
"Who knows how to feel the feeling of being razed."
"Emang Situ?" Andre recalled the incident a few months ago when Dimas and Naura were hit by a raid on a dimly lit street. "Nooh! I ran out of the same stairs," continued Andre, pointing at the stairs that were still lying in the yard.
Dimas' laughter broke upon hearing Andre's blinding speech the man felt pain all over his body. In fact, Dimas' laughter still echoed until they entered the house.
Ranti and Naura in the dining room turned towards the voice, looking at Dimas and Andre, astonished. While Irma, he was not interested in the sound of their laughter, but he was amazed by Andre's appearance which he thought was very, very perfect. 'Handsome.' In his heart he praised the man who had just broken his spirit this morning by himself.
The behavior of the brother who continued to look at the tall man who walked towards them, did not escape the attention of his sister. "Ehm! Watch out for clues, brother!" Naura nudged her brother's arm. "That's, fullness, brother!" he continued, seeing the water poured by Irma has exceeded capacity.
"Gee!" Irma flinched and instantly lifted the pot she was holding.
"Ah, Brother, so on wet, right? So if you like to say, do not sell expensive. He was sowing fresh tofu tempeh," Naura scolded while drying the wet dining table.
"What, anyway, De? If you say no ngaco," muttered Irma, slowly.
"What's wrong? Why a loud storm?" Dimas approached the wife, gently rubbing the head of Naura.
Naura just put her shoulders together.
Occasionally Irma, stealing glances against men who are busy with food on the plate. There was a deep sense of admiration in his mind, but again he brushed it away.
"Don't expect more, if you don't want to hurt her. Let her be happy with others" Irma said, speaking.
"Why don't you try to start? Don't you guys have the same taste?" The other heart also spoke. It was as if there was an inner upheaval in Irma's heart.
'Alesha Irmania!' Irma shook her head, resuscitating her mind.
Andre himself didn't say much, even though he knew the woman was watching him. He prefers to joke with Naura who really likes to connect when talking this and that, especially if the issue hiya-hiya— makes Irma feel unappreciated.
"Dim, you want some ginger milk too? It's still in the kitchen, let's get it," said Irma, then, as Andre sipped his ginger milk.
"No, brother" replied Dimas.
"Let's be the same Mr. Andre, brother, as he likes your ginger milk! Now Papol does not like drinks like that. He prefers to straight up it from the source" Naura said, unfiltered. Making the face of the man beside her blush from embarrassment.
"By!" dimas said in a voice that was being held back without opening his mouth.
"What's? You also like the origin of the plaques if again the same Papah Bambang and Mamah Ana," replied Naura did not care.
"Yes, but dong's a little sensitive! Here there are jomlowans and jomlowati."
"Well, can you do your own jomlowati in-laws!"
Dimas was getting dizzy with Naura's answer, going awry. Ranti who has begun to understand the habits of the child and his daughter-in-law can only smile while shaking.
"Thank you, Auntie, breakfast. I go first, yeah, it looks like someone's left at home." Suddenly Andre stopped the ravings of Naura and Dimas.
"Either. Aunt also thank you, you've bothered to actually tile until everything falls." Ranti still feels guilty for the incident that happened to Andre.
"That's nothing, Tan."
The man said nothing to Irma. Though usually, he always praised the widow's ginger milk or make a change of spare change ala-ala Andre.
"He why?" naura whispered in the ear of her husband.