by Eva Mazza
As soon as she returned from the bush, Jen booked a weekly consultation with a “normal, run-of-the-mill” therapist – Sharon’s words – and set up regular Friday-night drinks with her two friends. She invited Patty to join them, but Fridays were her busiest nights at the ‘gentlemen’s club’ she had recently re-opened, so she was often unable to meet them.
The most important lesson Jen had learned from her weekly sessions – both at her psychologist and with her friends – was forgiveness. She had realised that anger and bitterness were not helpful if she wanted to forge ahead with her life. She learned to begin to forgive John for his lies and deceit, and to forgive herself, so she could start to love herself.
John had initially played hardball, but quickly realised it would be better not to antagonise Leonard, whose reputation was formidable. Leonard had managed to get his hands on Jen’s file from her gynaecologist, and after consultation with another reputable doctor, found that he had, as Jen suspected, agreed to withhold important information from her to protect John, an old friend of his.
Leonard had made it very clear to him that the exposure of his sex addiction, coupled with his collusion with Jen’s doctor, made withholding a decent settlement impossible.
Jen found that she was not even vaguely interested in whether her ex was dating or in how he was doing. News, however, did get back to her, as she expected. Soon after the memorial service, Patricia phoned her. She said that she admired Jen for having the courage to walk away from her marriage. She confessed to having been unhappy with Larry for years but knew she did not have the courage to do what Jen had done.
During one of Patricia’s regular phone calls in the time that followed, she got an unsolicited update on John.
“He’s really not doing well, Jen,” she volunteered. “He’s creepy. In fact, I think he’s in Larry’s league when it comes to being lecherous and crude. People talk about him like he’s a dirty old man.”
When Jen told Claudia and Sharon about it over cocktails the following Friday, Sharon said, “That’s normally what happens. It’s weird, but men – particularly the strong, sexy type – lose their appeal after they divorce.”
Jen leaned back and shared a look with Claudia.
“How so?” they asked in unison, mimicking Sharon.
“On no, you’re exaggerating. Is that really how I speak?”
“That’s exactly how you speak!”
“Seriously, though, how so?” Jen asked.
“Men are often attractive to women because of the whole package they represent, which includes wife and children. In John’s case, he was married to a beautiful wife.”
Jen blushed and waved away the compliment.
“It’s true Jen, you’re gorgeous, and he has two great kids. He owns a wine farm and has an enviable lifestyle. Contrary to what you may think, this is not a deterrent. In fact, all those factors enhanced his attraction. Besides a married man being a ‘challenge’, they also come across as less desperate, especially after a certain age. It’s much more rewarding to bag the guy who has lots to lose than a guy who is middle aged and creepily available. What is John now, other than a middle aged sex fiend whose wife left him because of his promiscuity? Who wants that? It’s simply not as enticing, period.”
What Sharon said made sense. Why then was it different for Jen, who had become much more attractive to men, contrary to Frankie’s warning about older women being less desirable?
“Before, your husband and children defined who you were. In fact, you didn’t have an identity separate from them. Now that you are on your own, you are much more desirable. We’re talking about you specifically, Jen. There are many women who can maintain an identity separate from wife and mother within their marriages. You, however, were never allowed to, or you never allowed yourself to.
“But now you are independent and confident, and you haven’t made finding a man your mission. You are developing interests and friendships because of who you are, not because of who your husband is.”
Claudia spoke up. “I remember you telling me about that speech you made at John’s birthday. Underneath the wit was evidence that you hardly functioned independently from him. Your day revolved around his day. His hobbies became yours. Not only that, your one shot at doing your own thing socially – book club – was usurped by all the men. They upstaged you and your friends by organising their poker evenings for the very same night.”
Jen took a sip of her Sea Breeze. “I never thought of it that way. No wonder I felt so unattractive, and was so unattractive. Putting John’s sex addiction aside, maybe if I had maintained my own identity, our marriage would’ve been more exciting and fulfilling.”
Claudia answered, “I agree that you’re a little to blame, because you did have choices, but I think that John can take a lot of credit for what you had become. Look at you now, Jen. You’re a successful businesswoman.”
Sharon and Claudia raised their glasses and toasted Jen’s success.
“This makes you extremely desirable to many men, and women,” Sharon winked.
It was true. Jen was becoming a sought-after interior designer. After agonising over the ethics of doing the design of Patty’s new gentlemen’s club, Jen decided to accept her request for help. As a result, she also landed two projects involving interior design for large corporates in the city, courtesy of a couple of the club’s regular guests.
Leonard had, meanwhile, asked Jen to help with his newly acquired beach house in Pringle Bay as Claudia, who had impeccable taste, said she was too busy to be enlisted. Jen had a sneaking suspicion that this had been staged by both Leonard and Claudia to give her a leg-up. She was extremely grateful, especially when the completed house was featured as the centre spread in an interiors magazine whose theme for the month was beach-house living.
Between referrals from the magazine and Leonard’s friends who had seen the house, work started pouring in.
She was now so busy that she had hired an assistant and office space in Woodstock and was working long hours and loving it.
Jen had moved into a little Victorian townhouse in Oranjezicht and had just heard the news that her offer to purchase had been accepted.
“And now you are the proud owner of your own house, Jen!” Claudia said.
Jen beamed. “I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am. And how beautiful it is going to look when I’m done with it.”
“Well, tell us,” Sharon said.
“The kitchen, as you’ve seen, is fabulous – I love the clean modern lines – but I’m opening it up to incorporate the dining room. And there will have to be two bedrooms with bathrooms en suite for the kids, should they feel like crashing for the weekend.”
“Sounds exciting. So, when does this project begin?”
Jen wished that it could begin as soon as tomorrow, but she explained that she had to be patient, for one, as the transfer had to go through, “and my birthday will be at home. There’s no way I want a party on a building site.” The waitress had brought them another round of cocktails courtesy of two of the men at the bar. They held up their glasses to thank them, then carried on with their conversation.
“And Brigit? How’s she doing?” Sharon asked.
“She seems to have made peace with not knowing who her real dad is. The fact that John had chosen to raise her as his own, she says, not knowing for certain that she was his, has made her decide to abandon the idea of a paternity test. This is also why she chose to forgive him: for not being perfect. And she seems to have forgiven me. Well, I assume as much because she’s asked if she can help me with my party preparations!”
“No!” Claudia said. “Then all must be forgotten.”
“Mmmm. I’m not so sure, she’s still in therapy.”
Sharon laughed. “Nothing wrong with therapy, am I right, Claudia?”
“Somehow, she relishes the notion that she had two dads who both loved her, despite not knowing whose she was,” Jen said. Claudia and Sharon seemed to understa
nd better than she did, but she supposed that they’d heard weirder things as therapists themselves.
“How’s Pete coping on the farm with his dad?”
Jen held the straw of her cocktail, sucked gently, swallowed and then spoke.
“It seems to be a little smoother. For a while there, I doubted myself, throwing them in the business like I did. But Pete says that they stay out of each other’s way as much as possible and that their relationship is strictly business related.”
Claudia had met Pete with Jen over lunch a few times when he had come into the city to follow up with one of the farm’s biggest restaurant clients.
“He’s a good boy, Pete. Seems to me he’s coming into himself.” Claudia commented.
“He is. I’m so glad. He really has come a long way, even though he’s still my boy.”
Sharon downed her cocktail and motioned to the waitress to bring her the bill. It was after sunset and she had a lot of paperwork to finish before the next day. Jen still could not believe how hard Sharon worked.
“Well, you’re certainly proof that only good things can happen when people are given the space they need to be themselves,” Sharon said kindly.
Jen was almost, but not quite, accustomed to how supportive Sharon and Claudia were of her. Not only were they kind and encouraging, they really seemed to value her. She had never in her life had friends like these. Jen had never felt valued, even when she and Frankie were besties.
She didn’t know where Frankie was now, and she didn’t care. Frankie had tried calling her, but Jen had blocked her calls. She had heard, through Pete, that Clive had left university to take over his father’s business and was doing a good job. He and Pete saw each other quite often, both being in the wine industry. Apparently, Clive had a steady girlfriend whom Frankie despised.
And, of, course Jen’s friendship with the book club girls had dissolved since she had left, except for Patricia. Jen knew Patricia needed her more than she did Patricia, so she always answered the phone when she called. She listened politely to Patricia’s news, told her a little about what was going on in her life, being considerately careful not to make everything seem too good.
But the truth was, she thought, as she walked towards her beloved little hatchback down Camps Bay’s bustling street, festive with Friday-evening revellers, her new life was glorious. She had been given a second chance and she had grabbed it with both hands.
Thirty-eight
It had been just over a year since John’s fifty-fifth birthday, with all the ensuing fallout. Jen had now reached the big five-oh she had once dreaded but had come to embrace it. There was no way that she would pass up a celebration to commemorate her transformation and her new beginning. And what better place to celebrate than her new home?
She finished getting ready for the party and examined herself in the full-length mirror. This time, Jen didn’t care what Brigit – or anyone else – thought of her outfit. She had chosen a long, Grecian-style gown in emerald green, which showed off her shoulders and long neck. She had splashed out on gold earrings, and her hair had been tied back in a chignon at the nape of her neck. There was a slit up the side of her dress from which a tanned and toned thigh peeped as she walked. She felt – and looked – absolutely gorgeous.
Jen went through to the kitchen to check on the caterers. The guests would start with canapés during the speeches, followed by a sit-down meal of beef fillet or fish with a medley of vegetables. She’d decided on an assortment of desserts to be left on the table for the remainder of the evening, so the guests could tuck into them if they wanted something decadent and sweet. She had her eye on the lavender macarons.
Pete and Brigit were the first to arrive. Claudia, Sharon and Patty had helped her to get the house ready in the afternoon and were now laughing uproariously over a bottle of wine on the little stoep in front. Jen joined them and noticed that Brigit, leaning against the railing with a glass of wine, was resolutely ignoring Patty. Previously, Jen would have fretted about tension between two of her guests, but tonight she didn’t let it worry her. They’re both adults. They can sort themselves out.
Among the fifty guests to arrive were her friends’ lovers, followed by Angie, Leonard’s secretary, with whom Jen had made a strong connection, as well as Jenny and Gerard from the spa; perhaps they were an unconventional choice, but Jen would forever be grateful for the way they had treated her when she’d been so vulnerable and hurt. She had also made new friends through her work, some of whom she invited to join her celebration. She had included some of her kids’ friends, one of which was Clive, who had grown up in Jen’s house.
And of course, Myron was there: tall, tanned and handsome and extremely sexy.
He had pursued Jen from the time she blew him a kiss and walked out of his house, closing the front door behind her. But at the time, there had been no place in her life for a permanent romance. Jen was only interested in romancing Jen. She had spent years in self-imposed imprisonment and there was no way she would allow her newfound freedom and energy to be compromised by another relationship. Not then. She had stuck to her guns, and Myron, to his credit, had respectfully, if grudgingly, given her the space that she had needed.
The closest thing she had to a relationship during that time was a brief encounter with a former client, but when he gave her a diamond necklace as a token of his commitment, she ran for the hills.
It had only been Myron she wanted, and when she was ready, she summoned him to her newly purchased home on a Friday evening by way of a hand-delivered invitation. She asked him to meet her at her home address, and wrote, “Expect to wear nothing on entering”. He told her later that he had cancelled a date with a woman he had met online.
He knocked on her door at exactly eight o’clock. She had worn a long chiffon dress over a bronze body suit and tied her long hair up in an untidy bun above her head. She had wanted to look sexy, but not as if she had tried too hard.
The first things Jen noticed about him were his trendy glasses and new haircut. He looked even more attractive than she remembered. She breathed in the delectable smell of him as they stood facing each other. She was sure that her desire was radiating off her in waves.
“Hello,” he said.
“I’m so happy that you could be here at such short notice. I am the proud owner of this house. The transfer went through today, and I needed to celebrate! The only person I could think to celebrate with was you,” she babbled. She had completely lost her nerve on seeing him.
“Well, I must’ve known, because I bought flowers for your new acquisition.”
He handed her the biggest bunch of roses she had ever seen.
“They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
He couldn’t help himself, “You’re beautiful, Jen. You are even more beautiful than when I last saw you.”
The roses never ended up in a vase. They lay on the floor at the entrance as Myron and Jen reached for one another, hungrily and longingly.
This time, they got past the front door. He took her hand and she led him to her bedroom. There, he kissed her, undoing her hairband and allowing her hair to cascade around her shoulders.
He kissed her again and helped her remove her dress.
“Did you not read the invitation?” she asked. “It clearly stipulated that you were to wear nothing.”
“No problem,” he said as he removed his shirt, revealing a strong torso and a flat stomach. She ran her hands along his chest and down his abdomen. “Very enticing you are,” she said.
She kissed his navel and ran her tongue down towards the waistband of his pants. She slowly unbuttoned his chinos. Myron gently held her chin and tilted her head, so that her eyes met his. The longing she felt was tempered with a kiss that was deep and penetrating. She shuddered as he kissed her shoulders and eased the straps of her body suit off, exposing her breasts. He lifted her to her feet and slowly slid off the rest of the clothing that remained between them, moving his hands down the sides of her body as
he did so. The feeling was excruciatingly exciting.
Their eyes were still locked. They didn’t speak. Jen was swimming in his gaze. He pushed her gently back on to the bed and her legs parted as he lay between her open thighs, enjoying the feeling of him and the anticipation of their long-awaited union. He cupped her breasts. It seemed to pain him to unlock his eyes from hers as he slowly caressed each nipple with his mouth and his fingers. She groaned, and her hips moved, coaxing him. But he resisted.
His head moved down her body, eventually reaching her with his tongue, hands still caressing her breasts, before finding her with his mouth. She arched her back and her thighs clasped him as she felt his tongue and his fingers perform tricks on her she hadn’t known were possible. She groaned again, her pelvis bucking as he made her climax with abandon. He then entered her and moaned deeply as they rocked in unison, her legs pointing up like a yogi. He flipped her over and under and every which way he chose as they danced their tantric dance. And all the while she was aware of only one thing, him. Her hands were all over his body, as were his on hers; their mouths explored every part that was physically possible to explore.
Jen remembered the last time she had felt this way. It was a long, long time ago and she had allowed that person to slip away from her. This time, she knew the value of their connection – that you run with it and not from it.
That was three months ago, and since then, she and Myron had been an item. When Jen looked at him tonight, she felt a familiar stirring. Her desire for him was so intense. As was the thrill of knowing the feeling was mutual.
Once Jen told Pete that everyone had arrived, he tapped on his wine glass to attract the other guests’ attention. “Hi, everyone. I don’t know why Ma does this to me, but she insists that I speak, knowing full well that speaking publicly is my worst nightmare. Having said that, because you have been the most incredible mother, I will do anything for you, including speaking at your fiftieth. For most people, it’s downhill from fifty, but not for this incredibly beautiful person standing here. Most of you have travelled the journey with her that took her from heartbroken housewife to strong and sexy career woman.”