"I'll also be Nathan's teacher in playgroup, Ma'am," said Miss Kristin with a warm smile toward Grandma.
"Oh, that's wonderful! What a coincidence," Grandma replied cheerfully, glancing at Grandpa, who nodded in agreement. "That means Nathan can adapt to school even faster."
"Yes, Ma'am. I'll do my best to help," Kristin answered gently.
Papa only gave a faint smile, spooning rice into his mouth while sneaking a glance at Nathan.
Meanwhile, Nathan just stirred the food on his little plate. He'd been chewing, but without really tasting it. Inside, he let out a long sigh.
"Well, that was quick… No grilling questions, no icy hints, not even a raised eyebrow from Grandma. Everyone suddenly turned all friendly."
Then he shot Papa a half-annoyed look.
"Smart move, Pa. You didn't just pick a pretty girlfriend, you picked one who could slip right into my life. My teacher, no less. That's a solid strategy. But sorry… I'm not ready to smile yet."
On the outside, though, his face showed nothing but the flat expression of a little kid sulking over his meal, while the table around him filled with light chatter and soft laughter that he couldn't share.
So upset was Nathan that he wanted to flip his little plate right there on the table. It felt like a mountain of anger piling up inside his tiny chest, ready to erupt. But his small hands only clenched into fists in his lap.
"If I do that, they'll just say I'm a naughty boy," he thought, biting his lower lip. "Then Mama will be blamed for giving birth to a naughty child…"
His mind drifted back to the image of the gravestone, white stone carved with the name Maria Suyoto, the one he hugged every year while whispering, "Love you, Mama!"
"Mama would be ashamed if I made a scene. I'm sorry, Ma… I'll hold it in."
Nathan lowered his gaze, poking at his rice with the little fork, idly stirring without appetite. Across the table, Miss Kristin was still chatting brightly about the playgroup's program, Papa answering with a sympathetic smile, Grandma and Grandpa warmly welcoming her. But all of it sounded distant to Nathan.
Close to him was only one voice in his heart: "I still want Mama…"
---
After Papa dropped Miss Kristin home and the house grew quiet again, Grandma followed Nathan, who was drawing on the carpet in the living room. She sat beside her grandson, gently stroking his curly hair.
"Nathan," Grandma called softly. "Miss Kristin was kind to you earlier, wasn't she?"
Nathan froze mid-doodle. His hand still held the crayon, but his gaze drifted blankly forward. Silence lingered. Then, in a low voice, quiet but firm, he answered, "Love Mama!"
Grandma fell silent. Her words were struck down by that innocent yet heavy reply. Nathan then returned to his drawing. This time, he sketched a large heart, and inside it, with his clumsy spelling, he wrote: "Mama."
Grandma drew a long breath. Nathan might not yet be able to voice the full depth of his feelings, but one thing was clear: in his heart, the space for a woman's figure was still wholly filled by Maria's shadow. She forced a faint smile, trying to keep her voice gentle though it carried a hint of insistence. "Your mama isn't here anymore, sweetheart. She's in heaven with God. Maybe someday Miss Kristin can be your new mama."
Nathan sat still, clutching his crayon tightly. His eyes stayed fixed on the paper in front of him. Slowly, he gave a small nod… but then his words drifted in another direction: "Love Mama…"
The voice was soft, yet firm, like a tiny mantra he repeated to steady his heart. He didn't look at Grandma, didn't ask anything more. He simply kept on drawing. This time, he sketched the figure of a woman with a wide smile and shoulder-length hair.
Grandma could only watch in silence. Her grandson's face was far too young to bear such a loss, yet Nathan's love for his late mother was vast, unshaken, and irreplaceable.
---
Nathan's first day at school. He wore a tiny uniform with a backpack covered in dinosaurs. At the playgroup, he sang along with the other children, played with colorful blocks, and danced to the song "My Hat is Round."
Of course, Nathan's playful childlike spirit shone through, he laughed, ran around, and even hugged a friend who had fallen. But in a corner of his heart, he felt uneasy whenever Miss Kristin came near. When she patted his head and said, "Nathan is so clever today," he only gave a small smile and hurried off to the toys.
The playgroup only met three times a week, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. By the third week, Nathan noticed something different: Miss Kristin wasn't there.
Instead, a friendly woman wearing glasses and a hijab greeted them that morning. "Good morning, children! I'm Miss Lidya. Today we'll play together!" she said cheerfully.
Papa, who had brought him that morning, looked a bit puzzled. "Miss Kristin isn't here today?" he asked the duty teacher.
"Yes, Sir. She said she isn't feeling well. Maybe she needs to rest for a while," the teacher replied politely.
Nathan stayed quiet, but a question popped up in his mind. "Sick? Really? Or… maybe Mama's mad and made her sick?" Then he smiled to himself.
He looked up at the blue sky and whispered silently, "Thank you, Ma."
---
Nathan began to notice many changes.
Usually, Papa was very hard to wake up in the mornings. Even when Nathan got up at the crack of dawn, Papa would still be snoring behind the bedroom door that was always tightly closed. Sometimes he came home very late at night, even after Nathan had already gone to sleep.
But now, every school day, Papa was up early. Sometimes even earlier than Oma. He would prepare Nathan's clothes, comb his curly hair, and take his tiny hand to the car. Papa would even wait outside the classroom for a while, watching from a distance with a questioning look.
And Nathan saw all of it.
"Papa has changed," he murmured in his mind, swinging his legs while sitting on the little bench. "Is it because of Miss Kristin?"
But it wasn't just about time and routine. Nathan could see the expression on Papa's face, there was a kind of worry he hadn't noticed before. His gaze seemed to be rearranging many things in his head. Sometimes, when Papa thought Nathan wasn't looking, he would stare at the sky, then bow his head silently.
"Papa is worried," Nathan thought again. "But why? Because of Miss Kristin? Because of me? Or… because of Mama?"