Sunrise brought warm golden light, driving away the last traces of the previous night's rain. The neighbors' poultry and the sparrows called back and forth across the spacious grounds of Grandpa Hendra's old house. At six in the morning, Maya was already dressed in a light-blue striped cotton shirt paired with black culottes. She had an early class today, and as usual, she would ride her mother's old Jawa bicycle to the nearest train station or bus stop.
Before leaving, Maya picked up her backpack and headed to the front porch of the main house to hand Mrs. Surti the kitchen shopping report she'd requested the day before.
As she climbed the porch steps, Maya stopped short. A tall, broad-shouldered figure was already there. Caleb looked fresh in a plain white T-shirt and gray sweatpants. His slightly damp hair was arranged in natural, tousled disarray, emphasizing his handsome French features. He was folding two morning newspapers on the porch table.
Maya lowered her head politely. “Good morning, sir Caleb.”
Caleb slowly turned. The warmth in his hazel-brown eyes swept over Maya from head to toe. “Morning, Maya. Heading to college?”
“Yes, sir. I’m going to drop off the grocery report for Mom first, then I’ll head straight out,” Maya replied pleasantly.
Caleb gave a small nod. He picked up the steaming cup of tea from the clay pot on the table and took a calm sip. “How are you getting there?”
“On the old bicycle beside the pavilion, sir. I’ll leave it at the station’s bike storage, then take the train to college.” Maya explained naturally, unaware that Caleb was paying attention to every small detail of her words.
“The bicycle with the loose chain?” Caleb asked suddenly. His deep voice broke the morning silence.
Maya looked slightly startled. “Huh? How do you know about that, Caleb?”
“I saw it beside the pavilion yesterday afternoon,” Caleb replied flatly. He set his teacup back on its saucer. “The chain is dry and loose. It’s dangerous if you ride it up the hill near the village boundary.”
Maya let out a small laugh, its bright, honest sound spilling out effortlessly. “I’m used to it, sir. It’s been like that since I started college. As long as I can still pedal it, it’s fine.”
Caleb didn’t return her laugh. His handsome face settled back into its calm, cold lines, but his gaze locked onto Maya’s eyes with undeniable intensity.
“Wait a minute,” Caleb said briefly.
He turned and walked into the house. Less than two minutes later, he returned carrying a luxury-branded car key and a small toolbox taken from Grandpa Hendra’s study.
“Where are you going, Caleb?” Maya asked, confused as he cleared two porch steps at once with his long stride.
“To fix your bicycle,” Caleb replied without looking back, continuing straight toward the side of the pavilion, where Maya’s old bicycle was leaning.
“Wait, you don’t have to! You’ll get your clothes dirty!” Maya called, somewhat panicked, hurrying after the man’s long strides.
Beside the pavilion, beneath the shade of a lush rambutan tree, Caleb was already crouching next to the dull brown old bicycle. His tall frame made his crouched position look slightly awkward beside the relatively small bike. Without hesitation or concern about getting dirty, his clean, strong fingers gripped the bicycle chain and checked how loose it was.
“Caleb, really, you don’t have to...” Maya squeaked, standing awkwardly beside him. “I’ll be late if you fix it now.”
Caleb paused his hands. He looked up at her from below. The difference in their positions only made the lines of his jaw and his hazel eyes look sharper in the morning sunlight.
“Then I’ll take you,” Caleb said in a relaxed yet decisive tone.
Maya blinked at him. “Huh? You’ll take me?”
“In Grandpa’s car,” Caleb added calmly, then went back to turning a small screwdriver to tighten the bicycle chain bolt. “What time is your class?”
“At eight, but...” Maya grew increasingly flustered. “The station is pretty far from here, sir. You just got here yesterday. You must still be jet-lagged.”
“I’m not jet-lagged anymore,” Caleb cut in quickly. “And I need to drive around the village to learn the roads. Might as well do it now.”
Maya gripped the straps of her backpack tightly. Her face felt warm at the sudden attention from her mother's employer's grandson.
Behind his sparse, seemingly cold manner, Caleb turned out to be the kind of man who acted quickly without much fuss.
Mrs. Surti came out through the pavilion's kitchen door carrying a lunch container. She froze for a moment at the sight before her: a wealthy young man of foreign descent crouched down, applying oil to her family's old bicycle chain.
“Oh my goodness, Caleb! Why are you fixing the bicycle?” Mrs. Surti exclaimed, startled and flustered.
Caleb straightened and wiped the bit of black oil clinging to his fingertips with a tissue he had prepared. “It’s done, ma’am. The chain is tight now. But I’ll take Maya to the station in the car this morning. I want to see the route there anyway.”
Mrs. Surti looked at Maya, then at Caleb, wearing a knowing smile she did her best to hide. “Oh dear, you’re going to all this trouble for us, Caleb...”
“It’s no trouble,” Caleb replied shortly. He looked straight at Maya. “Come on. You’ll be late.”
Maya could only nod in resignation. She said goodbye to her mother, then followed behind Caleb’s sturdy figure as he headed toward the front garage. Amid the gentle flutter in her heart, Maya began to realize that this young Frenchman’s presence in their old house was not simply a passing visit.