Can I borrow your womb?
May I Borrow Your Grace 49
Mas Adzam and Hanum lived in a glamorous style, seen from the sandals and bags that Hanum wore. Inversely proportional to the life of me and Dance here who must be frugal so that we can still eat three times a day.
I went back to look at Ririn's veranda. There is a picture of me holding a Dance with a caption (For those who see this woman please let us know as soon as possible. Ma'am Afi, we all miss mbak and Tari. It's been a few full moons we've never met. Some more Ririn will lead a new life. Ririn just wants to mbak and Tari present on Ririn's happy day. If mbak Afi see this please tell Ririn, because Ririn's mobile number is still the old one.)
I sobbed reading the caption in the photo.
Turns out they still remember me. It feels like my chest is reminiscing about them. Five years is not a short time.
To tell Ririn that I am here okay, I also left a trail like in the photo post.
Next I turn off the phone, and sleep hugging Dari who has been asleep since then, maybe because of too much play.
I began to close my eyes to welcome a more cheerful tomorrow morning.
****
The sunlight began to peek out from the crack of my room wall.
I woke up from a long sleep today. I woke up my only child from her dream.
" Dance, wake! She'll be late for school."
My little girl woke up and sat down for a moment on my hard bed.
" Mommy, can you meet dad Dance? Dance misses." Said slowly.
Ever since he saw Adzam's picture on my phone, now he's more willing to convey that wish.
" Patience, someday we'll see you."
I started to open the window so that the fresh air in the morning could enter my house.
" Dad, Dance misses. All of Dance's friends have fathers. It's just Dance here who doesn't have a father. When did you come to the house of Tari? Dari doain may I have sustenance to meet Tari and mom here. Amen.."
My eyes were wet from seeing my only daughter start to miss her father. Good prayer for his father.
" Well, if you knew your son's conscience." I said in my heart.
I saw him smell the phone still on.
" Dadaa. Doain Dance today so you can get an A. Let's not dance in omeli with mom." His whisper was slow as he stared at the picture of his father on the phone whose screen was on.
" Dance. Let's take a shower soon." I called him from the kitchen.
" Yes, mother..."
She went to the bathroom with a towel around her neck.
Since childhood, Dance has been accustomed to being independent. The thing I always say to him. To make her a smart, independent and strong girl. And he always said he wanted to be like a mother, a beautiful woman whose cooking was delicious, he said.
The dance is done showering. I helped her put on her school uniform to make it more tidy. I have also prepared his favorite provisions, fried rice with cow's eye eggs on it.
And for me, it was a very simple meal for me. Even at the age of Five, he had never eaten pizza. How your fate, son.
I drove the school dance on foot. Kindergarten dance school is not too far from my home, but still he asked to be escorted, he said so like his friends.
" Mother's chest" He waved his hand and ran away from me.
And I can only reply to the wave of Dance with eyes starting to glaze over.
Because of her, I can be a strong woman.
****
I started to clean up my little house. The living room is already my broom, now I will wash the dishes so that my work is done and I can pick up Tari soon, the time to go home will arrive.
Tok.dok..
I stopped my washing activity.
Like someone knocking on the door. Did Tari go home.
I peeked out from behind the window, it turns out that there is a Mr. Rt and his wife also has a village head in this village.
Rushing I put on the hijab and immediately opened the door.
They greeted me kindly.
" Navaloupe.."
Please come in, sir, buk. I quickly rolled out the mats so they wouldn't sit on the floor. My house does not have a chair so to receive our guests simply roll out the mat. It is a contrast to my old life.
They're sitting in my house.
I left them for a moment to serve tea.
" Please drink sir, buk." I politely let them.
Buk RT and RT sir were so friendly to me, but the village chief just chose to be quiet.
What the hell is this?
" mbak Afi, the intention of our arrival here is at the request of Mr. Rizky to ask for the status of mbak."
Mr. RT's words are like thunderbolts during the day.
" My status?" I repeated a confusing question for me.
" Ehm...I mean, I'd like to propose to mbak Afi if I'd like."
" Huh proposed?"
I was so shocked I didn't even notice the words coming out of my mouth.
" I'm sorry that our arrival so surprised Mbak Afi. Honestly, I've been interested in Afi for a long time."
What am I supposed to say? I just haven't been able to move on from my past. Sometimes I still like to cry because it harbors a longing for Adzam mas and also other Adzam mas families.
" Sir...."
From far away came the loud voice of my daughter.
He must be mad because I didn't pick him up today.
" Assalamu'alaikum, mom why don't you pick up Tari?" He kissed both my cheeks.
" Dear, salim used to be bukde and pakde."
He also obeyed my orders. Then he went into the room, "Father Assalamu'alaikum, today Dance can be of A value, surely because of the father's prayer. Tomorrow doain Dance again yeah, yeah."
From inside the room a loud sound of Dance makes RT sir and RT buk and Rizky sir look at each other.
" I'm sorry sir, buk, I need time to think things through." Reject me politely.
" No problem, I will patiently wait for certainty mbak Afi." Said Mr. Rizky.
No linger, my guest has come home today.
I closed the door and entered the room.
Dance had already closed her eyes while hugging my phone in her chest.
"Son, it's sad to see you hold back such a longing. I took the phone out of his hand.
And sure enough, there is a photo of Adzam mas plastered on the screen.
" Mad, have you ever known the pain of enduring longing?" I wiped my tears.
****
I never thought that Mr. Rizky would put a taste on me.
Mr. Rizky is a widower without children.
His wife died of terminal cancer five years ago.
Then should I accept Mr Rizky's proposal?
