Dreams and Desires. Louise Make
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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 off.
“End of story?” She shook her head at the traffic lights that had just turned green, not bothered by the fact that she was talking to herself again. “My journey’s just beginning, isn’t it?”
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