70: C70 Chapter 70

C70 Chapter 70

ILANA1

Relaxing on the balcony, I enjoyed the view from my apartment while slurping an orange juice and turning the pages of the book in my lap. It was still early in the morning, just six o'clock. I asked Sila, my manager, to clear my schedule today as my adopted mother Mrs. Ujang urged me to see her today. She moved to Bandung just after I had a stable life. For my privacy, we did not stay in the same house. I bought her a house in one of the elite neighborhoods in Bandung.

Last night she called me that there was something she had to talk to me about. It was about my future, she said. I never said no to her. She was like my own mother. For nine years, she had taken care of me like her own daughter. I was grateful that God destined me to meet her in my darkest phase of life. Although poverty huddled me to work harder to get access to university education by doing some part-time jobs including writing for newspapers, I could achieve my dreams.

Upon completion of my master's degree in Indonesian literature, I had been living in an apartment in Bandung since last year. I aimed to focus all my attention on my job as a professional author. I had been publishing novels, around ten novels so far with one novel was still ongoing. I started my professional writing career when I was in college. My experience in writing had begun in senior high school n I often published my poems in the school bulletin. Vera, the editor was one part of my past I missed a lot. Where was she? One of her noble dreams was to be a lawyer or judge to help people gain justice. I believed she could make it come true. She was not only kind but also a hardworking girl.

Aside from my profession as an author, I was also a public speaker. Many institutions invited me to talk about literature and education. The theme of my books was closely related to education, school, literacy, and literature. Literature had been a part of my life.

My manager contacted me this morning that she had scheduled my flight to Jakarta for next week. I got an official invitation to be one of the speakers at an event at one of the universities in Jakarta.

Talking about Jakarta was like taking me back to the times when I had to undergo the tough times. It forced me to recall my memories of how my father tormented me. That remembrance led me to my yearning for my mother. How was she at the moment? Was she still alive?

Not even a minute in my life, I skipped my mother from my mind and heart. She was my soul. The time would not erase her from my memory. I paid a detective to look for her or obtain any information regarding my mother. My mother was still not found. But, the search was still going on because I was certain that she was still alive somewhere.

The tone of the “The Stitches” song from my phone beeped. It was not that I was a fan of the singer; I was just familiar with pop songs, especially his song. Music was something I never listened to during high school for having no time to do such a thing. The hardship did not enable me to have free time to listen to music or sing a song. Only when I studied in college I did engage in music or anything relating to it. So, it was only the recent list of songs I took a listen to.

There was a message sent by my mother reminding me of the family meeting that would be at three this afternoon. It was unusual to have such a sudden gathering. I was curious about it and could not wait for the event. My mother was not a typical person who liked organizing a surprise party or something like that.

I was still settling at the stool on the balcony, reading the book in my hand. Today was my me-time after doing my routine the whole month. I just launched my ninth book early this month; Sila had set the schedule of my book's promotion until two weeks later. The activity invaded me. I begged her to give me one day off. She granted my request.

The sun which shone indicated that it was already midday. I soon barged into the room. The time had tucked at 12. It alerted me that it was just three hours that I had to prepare before the family gathering started. I immediately took a shower and picked up one of the gowns in the closet. While choosing the gowns, my mind flashed back to the past when I selected the cloth for Angeline's birthday. At that time, I did not own even one gown. Again and again, the trauma from my past would always haunt me. The nightmares might end, but the effect still haunted me.

After deciding which gown I was going to wear, I shortly put it on and stood before the mirror to ensure that gown suited me. The gown was so beautiful with its pink ribbon at the back. The color was pink, my favorite color with the white vertical lace on both sides. It looked simple but elegant. I covered my hair with a dark scarf after putting on the light makeup on my face. My face did not change much, oval with big eyes and a pointed nose. This time, it was smooth without black spots blackheads, or acne. My skin was brighter because I always took care of it. My long black hair was coated by the scarf I was wearing. I had worn this two years ago.

At two o'clock, I left my apartment. It only took more or less a half hour to get to my mother's house. There were two cars parking in the yard when I arrived. I slid out of my car, walking quickly across the yard toward the terrace. My mother's house was not too big but green and cozy. Some towering big trees were lining the gate. The flower vases lined around the patio. From the cars, it seemed that my parents were having guests. I could hear laughter from inside the living room when my feet just passed the door.

"Ilana...how are you?" My aunt, my mother's sister was the first one I met. She hugged me and kissed my forehead. "It has been so long not to see you." Because of her business, we just made it to meet up after six months.

"I'm good, Auntie? How are you?" She let me go of her arms?

"As you can see, I am always happy," she responded excitedly.

"Ilana...." My mother welcomed me enthusiastically and kissed my cheek.

"Mom, is there something urgent, Mom that you invited our family?"

"Sure. But, first, you have to have a drink." She gave me a glass of water. "Great! Everyone is waiting for you in the living room." My mother did not allow me to open my mouth. She guided me to the living room.

"This is my daughter, Ilana. Ilana, this is Reyhan." I leered at the sweet man in a white shirt and dark pants. He had a brown complexion with black deep eyes that could drown you. His strong jaw and thin beard asserted his wisdom. From his look, he was a bit older than me. I speculated that it was a process of matchmaking.

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