Tshabina
11 Years Ago
“Have you arrived? Where are you?” I held my phone to my ear while fanning my cheeks with my free hand. This afternoon was unbearably hot; even the lobby’s air conditioning couldn’t cool me down.
“I’m already in the lobby, Zi. I’m waiting for Mas Bibu; he just finished his lesson.” I answered while sitting on one of the sofas in the lobby. I was at one of the golf courses in Pondok Indah, Jakarta. We always went to this golf course whenever we wanted to play.
Uncle Bakti often played golf here with his business associates, and both Zioh and Zeraiah always insisted that Tsabinu and I join them. It had even become a tradition over the years, because we would always play golf together.
“Wait, I’ll come out,” Zioh said, and I could hear the sound of running through my phone. I glanced left and right towards the entrance, wondering if my brother had arrived yet—until I gasped in surprise when something cold pressed against my cheeks.
“Hot, isn’t it?” Zioh teased when I flinched and turned to find him pressing two cold drinks against my face and grinning. His bright smile spread straight to me. His handsome face glistened with sweat, and his eyes sparkled as he looked at me, making my smile widen to match his.
He wore a plain black polo shirt, khaki chino shorts, and golf shoes. It was perfect—absolutely perfect, warming me and setting my heart racing. He looked so good while I was wearing the complete golf outfit Zioh had given me for Easter this year.
Yes, he’d given me an Easter gift.
In fact, he often gave me gifts on days that didn’t usually call for them: every birthday month, Easter, New Year’s, or whenever I learned something new and succeeded at it.
It wasn’t always objects; sometimes, it was moments. He took me for walks in the park and let me eat as much ice cream as I wanted, played chauffeur and drove me around the neighbourhood, granted me one wish, or spent the day together, eating, playing, and being outside.
Zioh did all that, only for me.
Seeing him again made me smile. It was automatic. Like a switch that turned on whenever he appeared, perhaps because my heart recognized him as the very center of my joy.
“A little,” I said, pinching my fingers together and grinning at him. He let out a warm smile, and I grabbed the bottles from his hands, asking, “Where’s Zeraiah?”
“Making a scene around Mum and Mas Zaeem,” Zioh replied as he smoothed my bangs, which had become messy.
Nodding, I opened one of the bottles and drank. Again and again, Zioh poked at my cheeks until I swatted his hand away in annoyance, but he only smiled. He loved doing that, and sometimes he would compliment my cheeks, calling them so round.
Back then, I used to pinch them between my fingers, wondering if I could trim a bit off. But when he told me he liked them, I lingered before the mirror, smiling like a fool until my cheeks rose.
But, still, it was embarrassing when he kept poking at them. Zioh chuckled and finally gave in, lowering his hand before asking again. “Bibu’s still at his lesson? What a Golden boy, isn’t he?”
I nodded as I finished the drink. “But he’s done by now, probably still on the way. By the way, Uncle Bakti is playing golf with his colleagues, right? Is it okay if I join?”
Zioh raised his brow. “Why wouldn’t it be? What could go wrong?”
I looked at him, hesitant. “I mean, it’s business? Wouldn’t it be awkward for Bibu and me to tag along?” I shrugged. “It just feels weird.”
Zioh shrugged, his thumb brushing away sweat from my forehead. “It doesn’t matter. Zeraiah and I just want to be with you and Bibu. Those people are boring.” His voice was gentle, sincere, as his knuckles grazed my cheek again. This time, I let him.
“About bloody time!” A loud voice startled me. “I’ve been waiting ages while you two sat around. Come on, let’s go in!” It was Zeraiah, striding over from the course in his navy polo shirt and matching shorts. Jogging the last few steps, he yanked me upright, stole my drink, and downed it in one go.
He slung me under his arm like a sack of rice, trapping me between his side and armpit as he dragged me along.
“Wait for Mas Bib—” I tried to protest, but Zeraiah cut me off with his usual nonchalant tone. “Let’s go out tomorrow, yeah? I saw Mas Zaeem’s bank notification; he just got paid. We can milk him.” He smirked. “How about Singapore? Same-day trip. Orchard Road shopping, then dinner at Marina Bay Sands.”
Groaning, I struggled to pry his heavy arm off me. “Ugh! Let me go! You’re like a freaking moose, Zeraiah! You’re so heavy!”
With his wolfish grin, he didn’t listen as usual. He looked back over his shoulder, grinning on purpose at Zioh. I glanced too, catching Zioh’s flat expression as he followed behind us, his cold stare clashing with his brother’s.
Mas Zaeem and Uncle Bakti greeted us as we entered the golf course, standing nearby with a few colleagues. Mama Nadine was there too, smiling as she walked towards us.
Mama Nadine looked elegant and graceful, wearing a light-blue polo, a white knit vest, and a pleated skirt. With her black headband and cat-eye sunglasses, she looked like a model. Her dark blonde hair fell perfectly down her back, and though her emerald-green eyes were hidden behind her glasses, her beauty was undeniable. Every bit of it she had passed on to Zeraiah.
She was stunning and elegant. Of course, what else would you expect from a fashion designer?
