aren’t the type of women who relax by crocheting or doing DIY projects, but that doesn’t mean they don’t want a break from all the business talk either.”
“So true,” Margot, one of the features writers, interjected contemplatively. “A very specific pattern arises in the e-mails we receive as winter draws to an end. Everybody complains about not having enough time for themselves because they’re too occupied with closing the financial year on as high a note as possible. Their businesses take precedence and all their remaining energy goes to their families. Yet, at the same time, the promise of spring makes them anxious for personal renewal.”
“Our readers are yearning for the chance to treat themselves, but feel they need to put the needs of their families before their own,” added Aisha, Thandi’s assistant.
Moya perked up. “Well then, why not treat this August’s Personal Space as a bridge between the demands of family and preparing yourself for the coming summer months?”
Aisha brightened visibly. “So they won’t feel selfish about clearing their schedules to do something fun! We could suggest family activities to look out for at the popular spring expos, list trips for two to revitalising spas and health restaurants, and finish off with activities they could do at home or in their neighbourhoods without spending a cent. I’d love to link our fashion theme to that, with the sort of outfits to focus on outside the boardroom. Perhaps the highlight could be to focus on the importance of loving ourselves as much as we do others.”
Moya couldn’t help smiling at her enthusiasm. “Well done, Aisha, I like that very much. Be sure to keep the beauty elements in sync with the fashion ideas in the Retail Space. These sections still need a little more work, but unfortunately we’re out of time. Think on it so we can pull together an August issue with impact. I’ll get Lindi to arrange an editorial meeting, at which point I expect to wrap this up, ladies. This has to be set in stone on Friday, so I can set up an impeccable compilation for Lebo.”
Moya watched everyone file out of her office and promised herself a much-deserved break. What she needed was an evening off from all the brainstorming and organising.
* * *
At six o’clock, exactly one hour after leaving their Claremont office, Moya entered the movie rental shop.
She’d given in to temptation and stopped for her favourite snacks – cashew nuts and buttered popcorn – before peeking in at the DVD shop to check for new releases. She told herself she deserved a treat after the day she’d had. What she wouldn’t admit was that she was desperate for a diversion from her thoughts about Zakhele.
It took her ten minutes to discover two new movies in the romance section and another ten seconds to admit that she didn’t know which one to choose. So she marched off to seek the shop assistant’s help.
“They’re both great,” said the girl between blowing enormous gum bubbles. “This one’s about a man who falls in love with a woman who’s dying and the only way he can save her is by giving up his own life. The lead actor was the bomb diggity.”
“I’m sorry, he was who?”
“He was good,” the girl explained patiently. “And the second movie’s about a woman who gets to know a complete stranger over the phone. She’s the type who normally cuts herself off from the world, but he sneaks into her heart anyway. This actress’s performance was totally the bomb di . . . I mean, good.”
“So, which one do you recommend?” Moya felt more torn than ever.
“Oh, I have no clue, dude. I loved both.”
“Right. Sold.”
Her phone rang as she was handing cash to the assistant for both movies.
“Hello?”
“Hi, sweetie!” Itumeleng still had exactly the same amount of energy he’d had the day Moya had met him ten years before. Explosive. “Guess what? Okay, you’ll never guess this, so I’ll just tell you. We’re going to the Big Apple!”
“New York?” Moya was astonished.
“No – my dear, clueless sweetheart – not the city, the club in Green Point. You really need to get out more.”
“Oh. Enjoy.”
Tumi let out an exaggerated groan. “Shaz and I were planning on taking you out, actually.”
“Not tonight.” Moya shook her head. “Last Friday I had a nightmare of a shoot to supervise. Then I spent the entire weekend proofreading rewrites in between calling nearly every florist in the Western Cape in search of one willing to commit to delivering enough roses, lilies and poppies to fill a garden party in December. And today I was in meeting after meeting, four in total. I even missed lunch.”
Tumi’s tone softened. “Oh sweetie, that all sounds hectic.”
“It was. But I’m taking care of it all,” Moya sighed. “Quest’s August issue will be conceptualised in time – after all, planning magazine issues three months in advance is what I do. And that stressful shoot delivered marvellous pictures, so all’s well.”
“And the gazillion garden posies? What are those for?”
“Roses, lilies and poppies,” Moya amended. “I’m planning a baby shower for my sister-in-law. My mother’s Greek mythology addiction has rubbed off on Kay, so I thought it would be nice to make it the theme for the baby shower. It’s perfect because I know she’d prefer a sophisticated lunch to a Disney party – but it also means I’ll have my work cut out for me.”
“Just don’t let Kay walk all over you, sweetie.”
“I’m not letting her take advantage,” Moya quickly answered. “Sam and Kay have been through an awful time with their struggle to fall pregnant. And when their doctor told them a year ago that it might never happen . . . The whole family was over the moon at the news of the first Duma grandchild. This is the best gift I could ever give them – a baby shower to beat all baby showers. But the day Kay crosses a line I’ll be the first to let her know, trust me.”
“Well, all right . . .”
“So, please forgive me for not coming to New York with you –”
“The Big Apple!”
“– but this is the first quiet evening I’ve had in a while. I just want to go home and relax. End of story.”
“And eat popcorn and watch fairytales,” Tumi added in mock accusation. “Not forgetting spending the night with your dream lover again.”
“You know me too well,” Moya laughed, tucking the DVDs in her bag.
“Moya, I need to say something – just this once.” His tone was more serious than she’d ever heard it. “There’s a whole world outside, one more real than anything on your television screen or in your dreams. I worry about you sometimes. I worry that life will pass you by while you watch movie stars and your sister-in-law and everybody else live and love. You need to give yourself permission to live and love as well.”
After they’d ended the call, Moya waved goodbye to the blue-haired shop assistant. A few minutes later she was driving home, her thoughts far
