A few days after that conversation, Dimas and Selvi finally made a decision.
They stopped waiting for Raka's help to open a laundry business because Raka really didn't want to give them the money they'd asked for.
Selvi felt embarrassed because she'd already looked for several prospective employees for the laundry business they had planned.
She didn't want the people she'd invited to work for them to find out that the business had been called off simply because they didn't have the capital.
"I don't want to keep waiting for Raka," Selvi said one night.
Dimas, who was playing on his phone, turned toward her.
"Then what are we supposed to do? We don't have any other skills."
"Let's follow Mom's suggestion. We'll start a cake business. You can work like Raka, too," Selvi replied.
"You mean become an ojol driver?" Dimas asked.
"You don't want to?" Selvi asked.
"What will my friends say, Selvi? Me, an ojol driver?"
Selvi snorted. "If you don't want to do that, you can deliver the cake jobs," she replied.
"Will it sell, Sel? We don't have any experience at all," Dimas said.
Selvi then remembered Naila's business.
"Naila can do it. Why can't we?"
Dimas looked doubtful.
"Can you really make cakes, and I ...?"
Selvi lifted her chin.
"We can learn. I'll study hard, and you have to support our business too. Stop playing games all the time!"
Mrs. Marni, who had heard their conversation, finally suggested a place they could use.
"You can use my old kiosk."
Dimas and Selvi turned toward her.
"The kiosk where you used to sell groceries?" Dimas asked.
Mrs. Marni nodded.
"It's been empty for a long time. Instead of leaving it unused, you might as well use it for your business, especially since Raka has no plans to turn it into his wife's cake shop. I'll have it repainted later."
Selvi immediately looked excited.
"That's perfect, Mom," she said.
Dimas nodded too.
And so, they made their decision.
They would open a cake business.
Not because they had a well-thought-out plan.
They simply wanted to start earning money as soon as possible.
Selvi began learning how to make all kinds of cakes.
She bought just enough ingredients and prepared them with her new employees.
A few days later, the kiosk opened again.
Mrs. Marni had the long-unused shelves cleaned by a hired service. They were stacked with all kinds of ready-to-eat cakes.
There were sponge cakes, doughnuts, risoles, pastel pastries, brownies, and several other kinds of snacks.
A small sign was put up in front of the kiosk.
"ALL KINDS OF CAKES & ORDERS"
Selvi stood in front of the kiosk, smiling with satisfaction.
"We finally did it."
Dimas stood beside her.
"If business is good, that'd be great. We'll make lots of money and become successful."
"It has to be busy," Selvi replied, looking at her husband.
"Don't keep thinking about grand things. What's important is that the business gets off the ground first," Mrs. Marni said.
"We have to prove that we can do it too, Mom," Selvi said.
"Yes," Mrs. Marni replied.
Dimas merely nodded.
A few days later, a customer came to buy several boxes of cakes.
"Ma'am, can I place an order for tomorrow's event?"
Selvi immediately smiled.
"Of course, ma'am."
"I'd like thirty boxes."
"You got it."
Selvi immediately wrote down the order.
"Deliver them at nine in the morning, okay?"
Dimas, who was sitting behind the kiosk, nodded.
"You got it."
But once the customer left, Dimas went back to playing a game on his phone.
Selvi glanced at him.
"Honey."
"Hmm?"
"Don't forget to deliver the order tomorrow."
"Yeah."
"At nine."
"Yeah, I know."
Selvi went back to the kitchen.
She was busy preparing the cakes with her employees.
Meanwhile, Dimas felt like he still had plenty of time.
The next morning, at eight o'clock, the cakes had already been packed.
Selvi picked up several boxes.
"Honey, get ready."
Dimas was still sitting there with his phone in his hand.
"I already made a delivery earlier. Why do I have to make another one?" Dimas said.
"This is yesterday's order. You heard her yourself, didn't you?"
"In a minute."
"It's always 'in a minute.'"
"I'm just finishing this round."
Selvi sighed.
"Honey, the order has to arrive by nine."
"Yeah."
Selvi finally went back to the kitchen.
But when she returned a few minutes later, Dimas was still playing his game.
"Honey!"
Dimas jumped.
"Yeah, yeah."
"Leave now!"
Dimas finally put his phone in his pocket.
But because he was in such a rush, he didn't leave until it was a quarter to nine.
The trip, which shouldn't have taken very long, ended up taking long enough for the order to arrive after the promised time.
By the time he got there, the customer was already waiting.
"Sir, is this the order?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry I'm late."
The customer looked at the clock.
"You said nine. I've been waiting here for a while."
"Yes, ma'am. There was a little problem earlier."
The customer sighed.
"All right."
Dimas went home.
He considered the problem solved.
But as it turned out, that was only the beginning.
A few days later, another order came in.
This time, it was bigger.
"Honey, deliver it at ten later."
"Yeah."
Selvi reminded Dimas repeatedly.
"Don't keep playing games."
"Yeah."
But once again, Dimas thought he still had plenty of time.
He played his game.
One match.
Then two.
Then three.
Before he knew it, it was almost ten o'clock.
"Honey!"
Selvi's voice startled Dimas.
"What?"
"The order!"
Dimas looked at the clock.
"Oh, crap."
He immediately stood up.
Selvi glared at him.
"I told you not to keep playing games."
"Yeah, yeah."
Dimas hurriedly carried the boxes of cakes.
But once again, the order was late.
The customer was starting to get upset.
"Sir, it's already been half an hour."
"I'm sorry, ma'am."
"If you can't be on time, you should have said so from the start."
Dimas could only nod.
Another problem began to surface.
A customer bought some of Selvi's cakes.
After tasting them, she returned to the kiosk.
"Ma'am, did you make these cakes yourself?"
Selvi smiled.
"Yes."
The customer looked hesitant.
"They taste a little different."
"Different how?"
"To be honest, I like Naila's cakes better."
Selvi's smile immediately vanished.
"Naila?"
"Yes."
The customer nodded.
"I used to order from Naila all the time. Her cakes were softer and not as sweet."
Selvi held back a smile.
"Oh."
"These taste a little different. They're too sweet and kind of hard. My mother doesn't like them."
The customer then left.
Selvi stood there stiffly.
Her face began to turn red.
She hated hearing Naila's name mentioned.
Especially while she was trying to build the same kind of business.
Over the following days, the comparisons happened more and more often. The service and taste were always compared to Naila's cakes, even though Naila didn't run a cake shop and only made them at home.
Selvi grew increasingly annoyed.
One afternoon, a customer even said to Dimas,
"If delivery is going to be like this, I'd rather order directly from someone else."
Dimas could only smile awkwardly.
"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry."
When he returned to the kiosk, Dimas grumbled. "Got chewed out again," he said.
Selvi immediately walked over to him.
"What happened this time?"
"What did the customer say?"
Dimas sighed.
"She said she's done ordering our cakes," Dimas replied.