"Thank you for welcoming me, Dear Neighbor," he said that made me rolled my eyes.

"I didn't welcome you, Partner."

He frowned and pouted his lips. "Whatever. By the way, do you want to come in?"

I shook my head. "I just checked if what you told me was true." I moved my sight to the house and stared at its features. "Is this why you transferred school?"

"Yeah."

"Then why you told me it's a secret?"

"To surprise you, of course!"

Aunt Cecilia is not the only one who's surprising. Asher, too.

"I bet you didn't have dinner yet."

Automatically, I looked at the open doorway few meters away from behind of Asher. A beautiful woman in 40's was standing there, smiling.

I turned my eyes to Asher and gave him an asking look. Gladly, he understood it immediately.

"She's my Mom," he muttered. I looked again at his Mom's direction but this time, with a smile plastered on my face. "Good evening . . . " Ah, stupid me. What will I call her? " . . . Asher's Mom," I greeted.

"Good evening, too, Dear. Just call me 't.i.ta'. 'Asher's Mom' is too formal." She laughed like it's the funniest thing that she heard in her entire life.

There's nothing funny there, right?

My Partner gave me an apologetic smile. I just nodded.

"You know what? Why don't you two go inside and talk there? Talking at outside during night is dangerous. Come in."

"Oh thanks, t.i.ta, but I'm already going home," I told.

"Oh . . . but wait, have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"Well then. We haven't eaten yet, too. Why don't you join us?"

Dinner with them? Uh, no. NO! Of course, isn't it awkward? Me, Asher, and his Mom, eating dinner in one table? Uh, no. NO AGAIN!

"Uh, I'll just eat at home, t.i.ta."

The curve on her lips faded and formed a thin line.

I felt Asher moved closer at my side. "If someone refused to eat with us, she always thinks that she's not good in cooking," he whispered.

It's just a minor thing but why it made me guilty?

I sighed. "Okay, t.i.ta. I just remembered, I forgot to cook my dinner." Of course, it wasn't true. I just made an excuse.

His Mom smiled widely and clapped. "Good then. Come in."

Did I make the right decision? What if t.i.ta don't know how to cook? What if the foods taste bad?

I looked at Asher with worry in my eyes. Of course, not worry for him but for the foods that I'll swallow soon.

"Don't worry. She's a Chef," he whispered. That's a relief.

We followed her inside.

The moment that I stepped in their house, I was amazed at its light blue and white interior. It looked like a grand rest house! Ah, it's very relaxing.

When we arrived in the kitchen, my mouth gaped open as I stared at the super long, wooden table where a lot of foods were served.

What the . . . is there a great celebration here? A feast?

"H-hey, Asher, is it your birthday?" I asked in a low voice.

He shook his head. "No."

"Then, what's with these? It's so much."

"I don't know."

"The foods are waiting," his Mom said that made us turned to her direction. "Sit down and let's eat."

We occupied the middle part of the table. Asher sat on my right side while t.i.ta, on my opposite seat.

"Um . . . t.i.ta, i-is there an occasion?" I shyly asked.

She nodded, smile was still evident. "Moving here is already an occasion." Oh . . . so she has another definition of it. Weird.

But, hey! These are so exaggerating!

~*~

"So, why you moved here, t.i.ta?" I asked after I took a sip from my pineapple juice.

She wiped the white tissue on the left side of her lips. "We want a new environment."

"Yeah. The city is polluted. You know . . . smoke from vehicles, factories, garbage . . . we want to try a fresh surrounding," Asher added.

"Oh . . . "

"Scarlette, right?"

"Yes, t.i.ta. That's me."

"Where are your parents? Are they home?"

I stopped automatically. Mom . . . Dad . . . are they home? None. They're not with me anymore. It's been a long time since they left me and never came back.

I smiled a bit. "No, t.i.ta."

"When will they be at home then?"

Again, I smiled a bit. "They will neverー"

"They're in heaven, Mom." Partner cut me out.

Of course, he knew. How? Probably, my aunt told him.

Her smile was gone. "Is it true?" she asked, confirming it from me. I just nodded as an answer. "Sorry . . . "

For the third time, I smiled a bit. "It's fine, t.i.ta."

~*~

What I have eaten were . . . heaven! Yeah, heaven! t.i.ta is really a Chef! A great Chef!

I was about to leave when t.i.ta gave me a pink container.

"What's this, t.i.ta?"

"A pink container." She giggled. "Oh, come on, Dear. You're in high school already. Don't tell me you didn't know."

Uh, I can't believe this. I can't believe that she's also like his son – d-word. Now, I believe in the pa.s.sing of traits from a parent to a child – heredity. Oh my gos.h.!.+ Is this me? Is this me? Oh my gos.h.!.+ I sounded like a genius.

Uh, stupid me.

"I-I know, t.i.ta, but what I mean is what's inside this container."

She giggled again. Uh, what a happy, beautiful creature.

"Vanilla cake, Dear. He requested," she told as she pointed her forefinger to her son who stood beside her.

Asher smiled, showing his white teeth. "It's my Mom's specialty. You'll absolutely love it," he said before he winked.

Oh . . . my Partner winked at me, huh. Maybe, if I'm just an easy-to-fall girl, I already shouted in happiness but . . . sorry to say . . . I'm not that type.

"Thanks then, t.i.ta."

"Anything for you, my niece."

All of sudden, I looked at her with surprise. "M-my niece?"

She laughed awkwardly which made my forehead creased even more. "M-my niece. Oh, come on. Oh! I forgot to tell you." She tapped her son's left shoulder. "Every friend of him, I treat like my nephew or niece because I don't have one. Just like him, I'm an only child, too."

"Oh . . . " But why it felt like it's not? It felt like . . . based from how she said it . . . it felt like . . . I'm really her niece.

Uh, stupid me. I'm imagining impossible things again.

"Thanks for the dinner, t.i.ta, and welcome to our place. I hope, you wouldn't regret doing here."

~*~

After I got home, I ran towards the kitchen and brought out a fork. I sat down on my dining table and immediately opened the container.

The white triangular thing inside came into view and it shouted, "Eat me! Eat me! I'm yummy!"

Of course, that's a joke. A slice of cake does not shout because in the first place, it cannot talk. It has no mouth, no larynx (voice box), so definitely, IT CANNOT TALK.

I just sighed on my own stupidity. Yeah, I'm stupid.

While eating the precious food, that exact words flashed in my head.

"Anything for you, my niece." Ugh! Why it felt so real?!

And then suddenly, I remembered Aunt Cecilia.

Uh, maybe, I just missed my aunt. Yeah, I think, that's the reason why.