Treasure, Throne, Renata
Infuriated

Rania's Story

14.30 WIB – Home Rania

“Mamaaaaaaa, Kian doodles dindiiiiiing,”

Kica shouted from the living room as my three children played together. I just looked up while shaking my head. My right hand is still busy turning the mixer to shake the cake dough. It has been 3 days of sale deserted orderan, Alhamdulillah today there is an order of 3 boxes of cakes for the arisan.

“Dedeeee, you can't doodle walls. This is someone else's house,” exclaimed Kica while seizing the marker that was being held by her youngest sister. Just contact the little one crying loudly and crying screams are inevitable.

That is our daily life in this house. Full of screams, cries to laughter. Kila and Kica seem to have started accepting her father's departure this time. The little boy never remembered his father's face. Although since she was still in the stomach and also felt my anxiety when Ray had an affair, when he was born Ray had intended to leave, Kian grew up to be a healthy, friendly and cheerful child.

Drrrtttttt

The sound of the mixer in my hand was suddenly not as usual. All of a sudden the engine stopped when I wasn't done stirring the dough. Looks like this cake mixer is starting to break, my mind. Understand the age of my mother's mixer has been 10 years. I don't have enough money to replace this one cookie shaker.

“Why Ran? Error again yes the machine?,” asked my mother while passing in the kitchen.

“Iya Ma, suddenly dead. I think the dynamism has to go. Must be serviced again,” I replied.

“Ya understood that he was old and his age,” answered my mother while holding Kian who was still sobbing because of a fight with his brother.

“Assalamualaikum,”

There was a man's voice on the porch. Maybe it was the sound of an online motorcycle taxi delivering packages for us. Kica immediately rushed to open the door and I was busy looking for my hijab.

“Waalaikumsalam. Grandpa Hariiii,” greet Kila and Kica while greeting the guest in question. Apparently Om Hari my mother's visiting cousin.

“Om Har, who is here? Aunt Yuni where is Om?,” my question while rushing to greet him at the door.

“There was a car, again a grocery mile like,” said while pointing to a black MPV parked in front of our house.

“There was a day apparently, the same Yuni Har?,” asked my mother while welcoming them.

“Iya Kak Lies, the Yuni abis monthly shopping so all stop by,” replied Om Har.

“Kak Lies, this is a little rice cooking oil for you. Mumpung again promo I bought a lot of nih,” said Aunt Yuni while carrying groceries followed by Om Har who cut rice into the house.

“Masyaallah Om, don't bother,” my answer is not good to receive the souvenir brought by Aunt Yuni.

“Ah did not bother Just this Ran,” replied while throwing his body on our sofa.

“Still selling Ran, asked Om Hari as he looked towards the messy kitchen with cake ingredients.

“Still Om, if not sale ya can not eat,” replied me while giving a drink to them.

Om Hari did not respond to my answer, his eyes were busy combing every corner of my rented house. Aunt Yuni also did not talk much, she went to look at every corner of the house according to v her husband.

“How much to rent here Ran?,” ask Om Har.

I am reluctant to answer the question, how much we spend on renting this house is too privacy for me to mention.

“Ran, why don't you go home to Mama. No need to stay here. Having a house in Bandung instead of filled even trouble yourself just contracted here,” he said.

I threw a glance at my mother, she was seen sighing at her cousin's sister's words. It's true what Aunt Yuni said, but this heart is still reluctant to go back there. Bandung is no longer beautiful to me, all the bad memories of Ray and Renata swirled in my head. Kila and Kica already have a lot of friends here.

“Still confused aja Auntie, want what business Rania there,” I replied.

“Ya business as you do here is, the windfall will definitely follow wherever you are,” replied Om Har.

“Not so Om. I feel more comfortable around my support system. Friends who strengthen me and my children. Pity the kids have gone to school here.

“Move them, don't make it difficult for yourself Ran,” said Om Har.

“Iya Ran, after all seeing your status like this mendingan you just go back to Bandung. Afraid to be the talk of people,” chirped Aunt Yuni.

I was surprised by Aunt Yuni's apiece. Still half digested ‘status’ he meant.

“Sorry Aunt what status is it? My status of being a single mother with 3 children means?” I said while raising my voice. She looked at me, as if trying to remind me to keep my emotions.

“Eh is not Ran. Yes the point is that in Bandung you can have a new life, a new atmosphere, a new soul mate maybe,” said Om Har.

“Day, we stay here is still 8 months away. Later we think yes, while yes let Rania with her efforts. The children are also still in school, have begun to cheer with his friends. Tomorrow's problem yes later we think yes,” said my mother diplomatically.

I was lazy to answer all questions Aunt Yuni and Om Hari, everything they said was weighing on me. Being a single mother is a stigma. Women who can only resign because of the failure of marriage and died of the ex-husband. Objects are often the subject of ridicule from the men and gossip from neighbors.

“Sorry Aunt, I am comfortable staying here. No one disputes my status, and do not need to tell them the same story,” I replied ketus.

“But Ran, you have many men coming every day, will be the talk,” replied Aunt Yuni.

“Loh, who came here ojol same courier package Aunt. His name is also a business person, yes every day with guests is,” my mouth begins to grow furious.

“Ya we just want to give advice Ran. The rest you do yourself. You are the backbone now, you must be able to think long in action,” said Om Har while standing from his seat.

“We say yes Kak Lies, soon there is a study at home Bu RT,” say goodbye Aunt Yuni while cleaning her bag.

“Kila, Kica here. Grandpa wants to give this gift to you guys,” call Om Har to my kids.he is seen handing out a hundred thousand pieces of money to them.

Kila and Kica approach Om Har expressionlessly. They are not so enthusiastic if given money, even then the money is always given to me to save. There was still a rumble in the chest as they entered his black MPV car. My mother was just speechless with a disappointed face, it seemed like she caught my disappointment. I immediately turned and returned to my busyness of stirring the cake dough without noticing their car leaving our house.

“Tau so do not need to be accepted from them. It is not sincere nolong even disturb our lives. Pake carry-over status all,” said I nagged while stirring the dough.

“Maclum is Ran, their lives are perfect. His children are well established, happy, have a good name in the complex. They will always live in a safe zone, not rich us-we are,” replied my mother understood.

“Mending do not need to help us, make emotions aja,” I replied more furious.

“Istigfar Rania, God bless your children through them. Can't be like that, want wherever is still our brother,” said my mother reminded.

“Mamaaaa, there is a package in front,” cried Kila calling me. I ran to the porch of the house to pick up the package from the courier, receiving it from behind the fence, my eyes as if to take me to the end of the road. I don't know what I'm looking for on that road, as if I regret the arrival of Om Han and Aunt Yuni. It shouldn't be those present here, my inner self.