Mila shrugged, then sat down in the porch chair after setting her snack on the table. As usual, Mila pulled one leg up onto the chair. It was the position she found comfortable. Fortunately, Mila didn't have a habit of wearing shorts.
Mayra resumed sweeping the yard. Though her body kept moving, her mind wandered as she wondered what Ustadz Fahmi might want to discuss.
Mayra slowly shook her head. She didn't want to be suspicious, let alone think badly of the teacher who had taught her religious knowledge. It wouldn't be right for Mayra to dwell on something that could become slander based solely on her assumptions.
"Yeah, Fir?"
Mila's voice could be heard as she spoke with her friend on the phone.
"Now? Ugh, I'm not in the mood."
Mila's brow furrowed as she listened to what one of her friends was saying.
"I feel like just relaxing at home. I want to lie around and not do anything."
Mila fell silent again as she listened before finally answering.
"Maybe another time. It's not that I don't want to go out with you guys. But you know how many assignments we've had this week—they've been giving me a headache. I want to let my mind rest."
"Hahaha, you guys have fun, okay? We'll go out together another time. Say hi to everyone else. Bye, Fira."
Mayra walked over to Mila, who had finished her call.
"Are you going somewhere?"
"No, I'm too lazy. I just feel like enjoying my bed today. I have a full day of classes tomorrow, starting in the morning, so I don't want to get too exhausted."
"That's good. You're finally willing to think about college."
Mila gave Mayra a sarcastic look.
"So, according to you, I haven't been serious about college this whole time? I'm not as smart as you, Mayra. But when it comes to my education, I definitely think about it."
"Sorry, Mila. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't want you to neglect college. Once in a while, it's good to go out with friends, hang out, and window-shop. But don't do it too often."
"You just love giving advice. Why don't you take your own advice? You act so damn perfect. Whatever. Talking to you is killing my mood."
Mila grabbed her snack jar and phone, then carried them into the house. Mayra's constant lectures always made her sick.
Mila didn't like anyone meddling in her personal affairs. Even their parents had never lectured her the way Mayra did. Mila felt that Mayra did all of it because she was jealous of her.
All this time, Hutomo and Santi had poured all their love into Mila, while Mayra had been 'forced' to become independent.
Mayra wanted to feel loved too. She wanted to experience the gentle, affectionate caresses Santi showed Mila. Mayra wanted to be pampered like a child with her parents. But apparently, all of that was nothing more than a fantasy.
Hutomo and Santi had never seemed to love her. Mayra had never felt a loving embrace from Santi, or seen a proud look from Hutomo, even when she tried to show them the best grades she had earned.
Mayra let out a long sigh. She closed her eyes to hold back the tears pressing to get out. She had to be strong. Mayra couldn't be weak. She believed Hutomo and Santi loved her too. They simply didn't show it openly.
Mayra stretched the corners of her mouth into a smile. She couldn't be sad. Hadn't she gotten used to burying her feelings all this time? So Mayra would keep her spirits up and carry on with her days.
Mayra put away the twig broom and dustpan she had used to clean the yard. Then the girl entered the house through the side door and headed to the kitchen. There were still dishes left to wash because Hutomo and Santi hadn't finished breakfast earlier.
Mayra hummed softly as she washed the dishes from her family's breakfast. Any task done with sincere acceptance felt easier. As best she could, Mayra would try to handle every chore placed on her with a willing heart.
Mayra didn't want to burden Santi. Her mother was already tired enough from helping Hutomo at their store. Mayra didn't want Santi to come home to a house that was still a mess.
She should have been able to split the housework with Mila. But of course, her little sister would have refused outright. Mila had never done a single household chore in her life.
"Are you done, May?"
"Oh, Mom. Almost. Do you need something?"
"No. I just want to get a drink."
Mayra guided Santi to a chair.
"You should sit, Mom. You're not fully recovered yet, so you shouldn't tire yourself out. What would you like to drink? I'll make it for you. Hot tea?"
"That would be nice."
Mayra took a glass and added one and a half teaspoons of granulated sugar. She placed a tea bag in it, then poured hot water from the thermos into the glass.
Mayra added a quarter glass of cold water so Santi could drink it right away. Then she set the glass of warm tea on the table in front of Santi.
"Drink it, Mom, while it's still warm."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome, Mom. I'll finish washing the dishes first, okay?"
Santi nodded slowly, then reached for the steaming glass. She took a small sip of the warm tea Mayra had made, and it warmed Santi's chest as well.
Santi watched Mayra deftly go about her chores. Secretly, Santi smiled as she looked at her daughter.
In her heart, Santi loved Mayra too. She simply didn't show it openly. To her, Mayra and Mila were both beloved children. There was no difference between them, even if her behavior seemed completely opposite.