Eva Mazza - Sex, Lies & Stellenbosch

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 understand 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.

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 .