Episode 2

Today Satria returned home early because his wares sold out. Seeing her husband come back early made Dinda curious, as it was unusual for Satria to be back early. She wondered if her husband was sick and so had decided to come home.

"Why are you already home? Are you all right?" Dinda asked, concerned about Satria.

Instead of answering his wife's question, Satria fell silent. He was just amazed at his wife's antics.

"Why are you silent?" Dinda asked.

"There's nothing wrong, Din. Actually, I'm surprised why you're so worried. I came home early because there was a teachers' meeting at the school, and they bought a lot of cendol in cups—25, in fact—so my goods sold quickly, and I was able to return sooner," Satria said while tidying up his vending equipment.

"Oh, is that so. Thank goodness," Dinda exclaimed and then joined in taking the empty jars to the kitchen to be washed and reused tomorrow. Dinda paid great attention to the cleanliness of the vending equipment her husband used.

"Here's what I earned today, Din," Satria said while handing over the day's earnings to Anisa.

Every day, Satria would hand over the money he made from his sales to Dinda. He never kept a penny for himself; he entrusted all his earnings to Dinda. With a charming smile, Dinda gratefully accepted the money her husband offered.

"Alhamdulillah, we made 200,000 today. I'll save 50,000, and the rest we can spend on supplies for the vending and vegetables for tomorrow," Dinda said, full of gratitude.

Dinda would go to the market early in the morning, around 5 a.m. after the dawn prayer. She reluctantly shopped every day because she didn't have a fridge to store the ingredients for making cendol. She bought both the cendol and grass jelly daily. Dinda was saving money to buy a fridge so that she could also make her own ice.

"What do you think about making our cendol, Mas? We just need to get the ingredients. Making cendol is easy and quick; it doesn't take long. We'll continue to buy the grass jelly and 'roti jon' at the market."

"Won't you get tired, Din? I don't want you to become tired and then ill. It's fine; let's just buy for now. If we can eventually get a fridge, we can shop every two days, and the grass jelly and cendol can last longer than three days if stored there," Satria gently declined Dinda's idea.

"Alright, Mas. Would you like to eat or bathe first? It's nearly prayer time," Dinda said.

"I'll just rest for now, Din. I ate the lunch you packed me earlier. Surely I won't eat again at this time. Wake me when the asr prayer call sounds," Satria said.

"Oh, right, it's not even 3 p.m. Why am I offering you food and a bath? Hehe... I forgot, Mas, since you're usually home after asr. Well, rest first, then, and I will wake you when it's time for the asr prayer," Dinda said.

Satria nodded and then went inside the room, while Dinda got busy washing the tools her husband had used for vending. She was very thankful because today her husband had given her 200,000, a considerable sum. Usually, Satria brought home less than 100,000. And that was still before deducting the capital for buying ingredients and vegetables.

In his room, Satria couldn't close his eyes; he thought about how hard the life they had been leading for five years was. Satria had already faced the harsh realities of life for three years before marrying Dinda, living away from the bustle of the city.

"In three months, that time will be up, and I have to return to my usual life. But what about Dinda? Will she be angry when she finds out who I really am?" Satria asked himself.

"Mas, why haven't you slept? You said you'd rest. I assumed you had fallen asleep," Dinda exclaimed while entering the room with clothing she had just taken from the clothesline.

"Yes, Din. I was just daydreaming about what it would be like if suddenly we had a lot of money. Living in a luxurious house and owning fancy cars, happily living together until we're old," Satria said, revealing a bit of his true self.

"Amen. But let's keep our daydreams sensible, Mas. If they're too lofty, the fall will hurt, and I'll be the one laughing. I'm content with this simple life, Mas. Yet, if Allah wishes to bless us with more, I wouldn't say no," Dinda said as she folded the laundry and placed it in the clothes basket.

Dinda always folded the clothes right after taking them from the clothesline to prevent them from getting wrinkled. She rarely ironed, to save on electricity expenses, only pressing clothes for going out or attending events.

"Yes, Din. No one knows what fate may bring," Satria responded, gazing up at the ceiling.

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the front door. Dinda quickly went to see who it was. It turned out to be Gibran and Tiara, children of her sister Rena. They often came over to play and occasionally begged for a meal.

"Auntie, I'm hungry," said five-year-old Gibran with a sad face. Seven-year-old Tiara looked down, perhaps embarrassed for asking for food so frequently from Dinda. They often received meals at Dinda's house, unlike those from Rudi and Reno, whose wives seldom cooked and whose homes were also quite distant. Rena still lived in the same area as Dinda, about 200 meters from Dinda's house.

"Come in, but all I've cooked is stir-fried water spinach and fried tempeh. Why don't you try asking at Grandma's house? Surely there would be fish or chicken there," Dinda inquired, wanting to know why the two nephews didn't ask for food from their grandmother's place.

"We did go to Grandma's, but she hadn't cooked yet, Auntie, and she told us to ask you. There's no food at home because Mommy went out, and Daddy's still at work," Tiara said honestly. The seven-year-old never lied to Dinda.

Dinda heaved a long sigh. She was all too familiar with her older sister's habits: always out with her pretentious socialite friends, wasting money without a thought for her children.

"Oh, is Tiara and Gibran here?" Satria feigned ignorance even though he had overheard the entire conversation between Dinda and the two children.

"Uncle Satria, you're home?" asked Gibran, the five-year-old who still couldn't pronounce 'r' clearly.

"Yes, Uncle Satria finished early. You want a meal, right? Go ahead and take it from the kitchen table, remember not to fight over it and say your prayers before eating," Satria said kindly.

"Yes, uncle, thank you," Tiara and Gibran replied together.

They scurried to the kitchen to fetch their meal. Whatever Dinda prepared, they would eat ravenously. Whenever Tiara and Gibran visited, Satria and Dinda always took the opportunity to teach them etiquette and good manners, effectively guiding their niece and nephew to grow up polite and well-mannered.