The scent of robusta coffee filled the air of Cafe Teras Kayu, mixed with the aroma of freshly served fried noodles. Ikhwan Permana, a 68-year-old man with neatly combed white hair, sipped his coffee calmly. Across from him, Naufal, his grandson, looked restless, his face pale. Akhzam, Naufal's younger brother, sat in the corner of the table, engrossed in Naufal's phone, occasionally glancing at the two of them. The cafe's usually bustling atmosphere felt silent to the three of them.
"Grandpa has been observing for the past three days, after receiving a report from Roni," Ikhwan said, his voice gentle but firm, breaking the silence. His gaze sharply observed Naufal, as if reading his grandson's mind. Affection shone through the firmness of his gaze.
Naufal stirred his iced coffee milk, his fingers moving restlessly. The sound of the small spoon hitting the glass added to the tension. "Observing what, Grandpa?" he asked, his voice almost inaudible, soft and stammering.
Ikhwan placed his cup down slowly. The sound of porcelain scraping against the wooden table was loud. "For these three days, Grandpa saw you working part-time after school," Ikhwan said, his voice flat, full of meaning. His gaze was a mixture of worry and firmness.
Naufal was silent. He knew his grandfather was observant. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but his chest felt tight.
"I don't know what you and your mother are keeping secret from Grandpa," Ikhwan said, his voice slightly raised, but still controlled. "But Grandpa has received news from Roni, you are no longer living in that house. Grandpa has also seen the narrow rented house you are living in. A house far from the comfort you used to have."
Naufal lowered his head.
"Grandpa is still waiting for what happened and what you don't want to tell Grandpa, also to your mother's two brothers," Ikhwan's gaze remained sharp, but deep concern was implied in it. His voice was softer, full of understanding.
Naufal bowed his head even lower, remembering what had befallen his family. Three weeks ago, Adelia took her two sons to move from the house that Fatar had sold to Amril. A house that held many beautiful memories. Now they can only live in a narrow rented house with one bedroom. Adelia had to sell all the furniture that would not fit into the rented house. She replaced everything with equipment that matched the condition of the house they now occupy. Naufal could see the fatigue and stress on his mother. To provide for her children, Adelia even had to wake up before sunrise to finish the snacks and cakes that she put in the canteen. Often Adelia had to come home late to add money for their needs. Not to mention dealing with Akhzam who was fussy because there was no more AC in the room. He doesn't understand why he has to live in a very narrow house and can no longer ask for the food he likes. Not understanding why he no longer goes to the mall every weekend. Also never knowing why Papa never comes home anymore. Naufal felt unable to let his mother have to work hard, he decided to work as an online motorcycle taxi after school to collect school fees and ease his mother's burden.
"Sorry, Grandpa," Naufal whispered, his voice almost inaudible amidst the hustle and bustle of the increasingly crowded cafe.
Ikhwan sighed deeply. He understood Adelia's burden, his daughter. Roni, his driver for more than 15 years, had told him everything. He knew Adelia's resilience in raising her children alone after being left by a husband who betrayed her trust. Ikhwan felt heartache and anger, but he chose to provide support to his daughter and grandchildren.
"Tell me everything, son," Ikhwan said more softly. "Grandpa wants to hear everything from your own mouth. Don't hesitate, son."
Naufal raised his face, his expression tense but trying to remain calm. The story finally flowed from his mouth. Starting from his father's sudden departure, betrayal, to the economic difficulties that were happening.
Akhzam, who had been silently watching, put down his phone. He approached his older brother, patting Naufal's shoulder. It was unclear where he learned to give such a simple but supportive gesture.
Ikhwan listened patiently, nodding occasionally. Heartache, sadness, and anger mixed within him, but he focused on his grandson.
Ikhwan was silent for a moment. He sipped his coffee, then put down his cup, looking at Naufal and Akhzam with a loving gaze.
"I once told Mama, why not go home to Grandpa's house. Why not tell Uncle Kevin and Uncle Revan?"
Ikhwan smiled faintly.
"Your mother is not a weak woman. She may be the only daughter. She once lived so luxuriously. But she is trained to be able to solve her own problems."
His face showed pride as he described his daughter's personality.
"I heard that Mama married Papa without Grandpa and Uncle's approval," Naufal said.
"Yes. But your mother stubbornly followed your father. Admittedly, I am happy to see what they have done in forming a household. They can have everything with the efforts they make. Making you and Azam able to have whatever you want."
Their story stopped. Akhzam was seen pulling Ikhwan's arm.
"Why?" Ikhwan looked at Akhzam.
"Want to play outside?" a question that was more like a request came out of the boy's mouth.
Ikwan laughed. He could catch the boredom that was visible on his 2-year-old grandson's face.
"May I?" Akhzam repeated his question.
Ihwan turned his gaze to Roni who was sitting at the next table.
"Take Azam to play," said Ikhwan.
"Yes, Sir."
Roni held Akhzam's hand, leaving the table.
Naufal waited until Akzham, who was taken by Roni, disappeared from view. He continued his story.
"Papa was tempted by Aunt Chintya," said Naufal.
"Chintya? Chintya is your mother's friend?" asked Ikwan
"Yes."
Ikhwan clenched his fist. Annoyed. If he went back, the memories of the past would play like a long video. How Chintya, who had nothing after being kicked out by her husband who chose another woman. Chintya was able to return to her parents' house thanks to Adelia's help.
"Grandpa will help you," Ikhwan promised, his voice firm but gentle. "You don't have to bear this burden alone. You still have Grandpa. Still have Uncle Kevin and Uncle Revan."
Naufal nodded, a sense of relief beginning to radiate from his face.
Ikhwan contacted Kevin Samudra, Adelia's first brother.
"Hello, Pa," Kevin's distinctive voice, heavy and authoritative.
"Where are you?" asked Ikhwan.
"On the way home, why Pa?"
"There are important things you need to know. Papa is waiting at Cafe Teras Kayu."
"Yes, I'm going there."
"Ok," Ikhwan hung up the phone. He turned to Naufal. "We'll wait for Uncle Kevin to come here." A plan had been etched in Ikhwan's mind. He would make sure his grandchildren got a better life. He will ensure that Naufal and Akzham's future is safe and secure. He will help his daughter, Adelia, to rise from adversity. And a desire to pull home Fatar and Chintya who had messed up his daughter's life."