CHAPTER 2
Evening had just begun to creep in when the front door was pushed open a little too forcefully. Yasa's footsteps thudded across the porch floor, followed by the sound of her helmet being casually dropped onto the outdoor table. The sixteen-year-old's face was twisted into a sour frown as she stepped inside.
"Mom! Why does Sis Putri always wear Yasa's gray sweater without telling me?!" Yasa shouted when she saw Ayusari preparing Mom Tita's medication at the dining table. "She already knew Yasa was going to wear it for a group project tonight!"
A moment later, Putri came in calmly. She took off her sneakers and arranged them on the shoe rack. "I was only borrowing it for a little while, Yas. My sweater was still wet on the clothesline yesterday. Besides, I bought that sweater with my allowance after saving up for it."
"But it's Yasa's now! You gave it to Yasa last month!" Yasa's voice rose, and her eyes began to glisten—not simply because of the sweater, but because a pile of small frustrations had finally boiled over. "You're always like this, Sis Putri. You think being the oldest means you can take whatever you want!"
"Yasa, lower your voice," Ayusari admonished her gently but firmly. She placed Mom Tita's two tablets into a small container, then looked from one daughter to the other. "Grandma just fell asleep in her room. Don't startle her and make her have another seizure."
Putri sighed softly and took a deep breath to rein in her emotions. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to cause a scene. I'll wash and iron the sweater again later, Yas."
"Don't bother! Just keep wearing it!" Yasa cut in sharply before turning around and hurrying to her room. Her bedroom door slammed shut, leaving a suffocating silence in the living room.
Ayusari rubbed her forehead, which was beginning to ache. Being a single mom to two teenagers with such different ages and personalities was a daily challenge without a break. Putri, forced to grow up too soon, often gave in while carrying her burdens alone. Yasa, meanwhile, the expressive younger daughter, was highly sensitive to how attention was divided in their home.
"I'm sorry, Mom... I ended up making Yasa mad," Putri murmured as she approached her mother at the dining table.
Ayusari gave a faint smile and gently rubbed her eldest daughter's arm. "It's okay, honey. Your younger sister is feeling sensitive right now. You know that lately I've had to devote more of my attention to taking care of Grandma. Yasa may feel a little neglected."
Before Putri could reply, the master bedroom door opened. Mom Tita stepped out with a slightly vacant look in her eyes. She held onto the edge of the wall to steady herself.
"Rara... Ayu... why are you two always fighting?" Mom Tita's voice sounded weak and hoarse. She walked toward Putri and Ayusari with a worried expression. "Ayu, don't be so harsh with Rara's younger sister. Poor Rara is still little..."
Ayusari and Putri exchanged a glance. Mom Tita's memory had been thrown back decades, mistaking Putri for Ayusari as a child and Yasa, who had just shouted, for Rara.
"Mom... it's Ayu," Ayusari whispered softly as she put an arm around her mother's shoulders. "The girl standing here is Putri, your granddaughter."
Mom Tita blinked several times, trying to process what was happening. Confusion clouded her aging face for a few seconds before her eyes slowly refocused. "Oh... Putri, is it? Grandma thought... Rara and Ayu were here..."
"Yes, Grandma. This is Putri," Putri replied gently. Her anger toward Yasa melted away at once, replaced by deep pity. She guided her grandmother to sit on the living room sofa. "Would you like some warm water, Grandma?"
Through the narrow gap in her slightly open bedroom door, Yasa watched the interaction. The anger in her chest slowly cooled, replaced by guilt for having caused such a commotion.
That night, after a quiet dinner and once Mom Tita had fallen sound asleep in her room, Ayusari headed to Yasa's bedroom. She carried a glass of warm milk and set it on the desk where Yasa was hunched over her schoolwork.
"Are you still mad at your sister?" Ayusari asked softly as she sat on the edge of the bed.
Yasa shook her head without looking at her mother. "No, Mom... I'm sorry. I was being really selfish, yelling like that when Grandma was resting."
Ayusari stroked Yasa's hair lovingly. "I know you're tired, Yasa. You feel like I love Sis Putri more and pay more attention to Grandma, don't you?"
Yasa nodded slowly, and her tears finally spilled over. "I just feel like... everyone in this house has an important role. Sis Putri is doing great in college, and Grandma needs constant care. Sometimes Yasa doesn't know what that makes her..."
Ayusari gathered her younger daughter into a warm embrace. "You are the one who keeps this house balanced. Without your liveliness and cheer, this house would be so quiet, honey. I love you, Yasa, and Sis Putri, and Grandma... I don't love any of you differently. But I only have two hands, so I need your help understanding what our family needs, okay?"
Yasa hugged her mother tightly, nodding against Ayusari's shoulder. Outside the bedroom, Putri, who happened to be passing by, heard the conversation through the door. She smiled faintly, realizing that even though their family was incomplete without a father, their mother's love was always enough to fill every crack in their broken home.