Frikkie had said he enjoyed his sessions with John. It was a refreshing change from listening to millennials rant on about how unfair life was for them.
“I need some intimacy, Frik.” John had learned this word from his previous therapist. What he was really trying to say is he needed some ass.
“No one said you couldn’t have it. Just be aware of how you conduct yourself, that’s all.”
“Ja. I know. It’s a little bit easier now I’m officially single. I’m not cheating on anyone am I?”
Frikkie sucked deep on his cigarette and blew out long and hard. “Your kids. Don’t forget about them.”
“Well, Pete is a man, so he’ll come to realise I have needs. As for Brig: she may not even be my child.”
Frik squinted at his client through the smoke from his cigarette. “Would it make a difference if she wasn’t?”
“No. No it wouldn’t. I don’t think. To tell you the truth, though, I need to know.” John was pleased Frikkie didn’t delve too deeply into why John needed to know. The other shrink had made him recall his childhood and all sorts of other kak. After that session he never went back.
“So tell her you want to know, that you need to know, in the kindest possible way of course,” Frikkie had advised.
His conversation with Bridget had not been John’s best moment. But he didn’t really have best moments. He had clearly upset Brig and had come home earlier than expected.
John pressed the remote of the garage door and drove in. His two ridgebacks were waiting for him. Loyal companions. “River, Phoenix,” John greeted his boys.
He walked through to the main house. “Gladys!” he bellowed. “I’m home.”
He found her in the kitchen. “Is there anything to eat?” he asked.
“No, John.” He found Gladys to be surlier than ever now that Jen wasn’t there. “You said you were going out for dinner.”
John opened the fridge door. “There’s fokall in the fridge,” he said. “Are you doing the grocery shopping tomorrow or am I on some kind of diet?”
“I’ll go tomorrow if you want,” she said. “It is my day off.”
“Ag, be a darling,” John said as she was leaving, “Call and order a pizza. The number’s next to the phone. A calzone would be nice.” Gladys didn’t move. “What?” he asked.
“Do you want it delivered?”
“Yes, that would be great.” He dropped into the settee and fished the TV remote from under his ass. He didn’t have to change the channel anymore; it was locked on the sport channel since Jen had left. The one perk to being single.
“Gladys!” he called out. “Be a honey and get me a beer, please.”
He heard the back door open and shut.
Bitch! He thought. She blatantly ignored me!
If they had still been married, Jen would have been around to make supper and wait on him. She had taken her wifely duties very seriously. Fuck them all! He could do shit himself. He hauled himself from the couch and headed for the kitchen. He felt like a cold beer.
He grabbed one from the fridge and opened it, leaving the cap on the kitchen counter. The counter brought back so many memories of Frankie. They had shagged on the Caesarstone top. He had knocked off his son’s fruit bowl to accommodate Frankie’s sizzling hot bod. The bowl that had been lovingly created for Jen, and preserved by her since Pete’s primary school days, had smashed into pieces on the tiled floor, but he had fucked his lover with abandon anyway. You can be such a dog sometimes, John! He felt a stirring. He grabbed his beer and walked across the lawn to the tasting room; the same room where Jen had found him with Patty on her knees. Thinking of Patty made John horny.
He climbed down the spiral staircase to the cellar and unlocked his office door, closing it gently behind him.
He started up his laptop and clicked on to his favourite porn site. Unzipping his trousers, he felt for John-John. “Hello, boy,” he said. “It’s been a while.” John-John rose to the occasion. John wrapped his hand around his shaft, stroked it slowly at first then more rigorously. He climaxed with the two women on the screen as his phone started ringing.
It was the delivery man. “Your Ridgebacks have pinned me up against the front door, Mr Pearce.” he whined. John tucked John-John away and zipped up his pants. He ran across the lawn and around the house to the front door.
“River! Phoenix! Los!” he yelled. The dogs moved towards their master, wagging their tales.
The distraught delivery guy had the box above his head to prevent John’s dogs from devouring his order.
“Sorry, man,” John laughed. “I think they actually wanted to chow my calzone and not you.” The student showed no signs of amusement. John signed the bill and managed to find a crumpled fifty rand note in his back pocket, which he handed over as a tip for “any trauma you may have experienced.” The guy grabbed the money and jogged back to his beaten-up Golf.
John’s phone rang again. He held the pizza box in one hand and pulled out his iPhone from his trouser pocket, retracing his steps to the back of the farmhouse.
“Hello, John here.”
“I’ve got your wallet.” A young girl’s voice on the other end.
“Who’s this?” he asked.
“Sorry. It’s Meagan.”
Meagan? Meagan?
“You left your wallet behind. I can pop over after my shift, drop it off.” Then she laughed, “If it’s not past your bedtime.”
John smiled. The waitress from Tokara.
“Actually, it may be past your bedtime.” He was always quick with a retort.
“Touché,” she said. “So. It says that a reward is offered, if found?” Meagan sounded hopeful.
“Sounds extremely exciting, doesn’t it?” John joked.
The young girl sighed on the other end of the phone. “Funny, ha-ha. I’m dropping and going. Don’t get any ideas, gramps.”
John had to admit, he felt a little insulted.
“Don’t flatter yourself. The last thing I want is to spend my night singing Barney songs.”
“You’re funny,” she giggled. “Drop a pin and I should be at you by elevenish.”
He opened the box of calzone pizza and sliced it, grabbed a serviette and another bottle of beer before falling onto his couch in front of the television. He’d shower later if he had the inclination.
This is the life, he thought as he broke a long string of cheese that stretched between his mouth and his hand.
He was asleep when the doorbell rang. River and Phoenix were up and running, making a helluva racket. Ever since Jen had left, they had become barkers. It was as if they were constantly waiting for her return.
John checked his hair in the hallway mirror before opening the door. She stood there, wallet in hand. He noticed her lipstick.
“Hello,” she said. Her outstretched arm indicated he should take the wallet from her.
He laughed. “Come in, I promise I don’t bite. I want to give you something for your honesty, and trouble.”
She stood on the threshold.
“Come in…” He had forgotten her fucking name!
“Meagan.”
“Megan.”
“Mee-gan.”