Dammit.
I wiped the moisture from my eyes. “Thanks.”
She squeezed my hand. “Go on and no more tears. She wouldn’t want you dwelling.”
So that’s what I did.
The drive from Nanna’s house felt weird. I’d tried to listen to music, but only got annoyed when my Spotify feed kept dropping off. The silence wasn’t much better though. Too many thoughts about mortality—my own and my family’s—that threatened to push hard against my grief. What I needed was a complete distraction.
I hit the phone button on my steering wheel. “Call Jasmine.”
The electronic flutter of numbers being dialed echoed in my car. It rang four times before the familiar pop of her voice crackled through the speaker. “Hello?”
“Hey, Jaz, it’s me.”
“Hey, you.” I heard her pull the phone away. “Just a second, Mummy . . . Sorry. How was the funeral?”
“The service was nice.”
“Good. How are you holding up?”
“You know, okay I guess. Actually, since the service finished it doesn’t seem so heavy, if that makes sense.”
“I get that.”
I hit a bump and my purse fell to the floor. The contents slipped out and I caught sight of the bag from the corner of my eye. Oh! “You had plans tonight, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. I’m at Mom’s right now. She has me painting her bathroom. It’s pink.” She made a gagging noise.
“That’s too bad. I found something . . . unique at the graveyard.”
“I’m actually terrified to ask. And that’s saying something.”
I chuckled as I switched lanes. “Let’s just say it’s something Great Glenna would have appreciated.”
“A dildo?”
“Oh my God.”
“You did not find a dildo there?” She laughed hysterically. “That’s fucked up.”
“No, not a dildo. But it’s something almost as weird. I found a plastic bag that had what looks like a bunch of sex cards in it.”
“Whoa, what?”
“Index cards with sex things to try. Threesomes and shower sex and stuff.”
“You’re shitting me? That’s awesome.”
“Seriously, it was as though Great Glenna were there trying to tell me something.”
“That you needed to get laid?”
I snorted. “Well, yes. But she was always after me to get out there and do something wild. She would have loved it.” The sudden tightness of my throat forced me to clear it. The last thing I needed was to start bawling while driving. “Today was harder than I thought it would be.”
“I wish I could be there for you tonight.”
“I know. I’ll be fine once I get home and have a shower.”
“Bring the cards to work tomorrow. I’m dying to see these now.” Her laughter filled the car and eased the ache in my chest. “We’ll have to take an extra-long lunch and talk dirty in honor of Great Glenna.”
“That sounds awesome. We’ll have to be careful with them. From what I saw I wouldn’t want to wave these under too many people’s noses.”
“It’s frosh week. Everyone is busy with their own shit, getting ready for the term. No one will even remember we’re alive until the middle of the month. We should be fine.”
We chatted for a few more minutes before I pulled into heavier traffic. The last thing I wanted to do was get into an accident with a rental car while trying to navigate the 401 as I got closer to Toronto, so I let her go. If nothing else, I had something fun to look forward to tomorrow to take my mind off more depressing thoughts.
Sex cards at a graveyard?
Clearly, someone else’s life was far more interesting than mine.
4
It’s strange how something can go from hilarious to a wee bit sad in the blink of an eye. After I’d gotten home from returning the rental, I poured myself a glass of wine and pulled out the cards. I wanted to check them out in closer detail before I made good with my promise to bring them to school. If they were too racy, I would leave them home and Jasmine would have to come over to see them. While I was trying to take Great Glenna’s advice and do things that were adventurous, I wasn’t about to get myself in trouble at work. Professor Mickelson was an okay boss, but he had very specific views on how people should behave at work. Sex cards were probably not on the “approved behaviors” list. It was better to be safe than sorry.
Plus, I really wanted to see them now.
I started flipping through them as I tried to relax and enjoy the moment. Masturbate. Snort. Dry hump your partner. Snicker.
And then it happened. One second I was drinking wine and giggling at what was written there, and in the next I felt guilty for laughing at someone else’s pain. Which card so drastically changed my mood?
Day Seventeen
Reenact a scene from a porn movie
(ask Nikki if you need help)
Nikki must be someone whom the recipient trusted quite a bit in order for them to ask for help regarding a porn movie. I mean, who asks random people for help about that? That got my imagination going full speed ahead—who was Nikki, was it a sister or friend, how would the recipient feel when it came to needing help . . . and that’s when it hit me.
These cards were intended to help a very real person. This wasn’t some movie where a character was looking to spice up their life. No, a flesh-and-blood person had used these cards, most likely to get over a loss.
It had started out hard to think of this mysterious recipient as an actual woman—and I was certain that these were for a she and not a he. The longer I spent looking at the hand-printed words, the more I could clearly see her in my head. She was probably older, maybe someone who wanted to be adventurous but didn’t know where to start. The author would have cared a great deal for this person and wanted to give her these cards as a gift.
You need to take chances, Glenna. You can’t live your life scared of your own shadow.
Ignoring Great Glenna’s voice in my head, I spread the cards across my coffee table and spent the better part of twenty minutes looking at them. I positioned them in their proper order, looking at their progression. I picked up the Day One card to examine it. On the back there was a faint impression of part of a sentence.
. . . here, I started this little project. I call it Alyssa’s 30 Days . . .
Who was this Alyssa? Clearly these had been written by someone with a heavy hand. It was someone who I could only imagine wasn’t around any longer. Someone who wanted her to have a lot of sexy fun.
I turned the card around again. It didn’t look used, the corners weren’t bent and there were no creases or spills distorting the card stock. Alyssa either hadn’t used them, or else she’d gotten what she’d needed and left them behind.
Oh.
She’d placed them on a grave marker. She was saying good-bye.
Guilt washed over me and I fumbled to put them back into a neat pile. I shouldn’t be looking at these. They were a private thing, something between Alyssa and her deceased loved one. God, I was a horrible human being.
No matter how bold I’d wanted to be, or how badly I wanted to do something that would make Great Glenna proud, I couldn’t take advantage of something like this. It was wrong.
I shoved the cards back into the bag and then into my purse. I knew that I couldn’t show these to Jasmine. What I really needed to do was take them back to the graveyard tomorrow after work and return them. Yeah, that’s what I would do. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where I’d found them.
Right?
I’d make it up to Jasmine somehow. She’d understand.
Jasmine pressed both her hands on the edge of my desk and leaned over. Her long, straight black hair swung forward to frame her face and highlight her scowl. “What do mean you won’t show them to me?”
Dear God, she scared the shit out of me. “They’re private.”
“Umm, no. You found them at a graveyard. That means they’re out t
here for anyone or their dog to take. You took and I want to see.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes it is.” Jasmine groaned and stood up. “These are just some silly sex cards, right? From a store?”
“They were homemade, actually.”
“And they’re kinky? Like porno kinky?”
“Are you going to keep bugging me about these?”
“If you’re going to keep holding out on me? Yes.” She leaned back and crossed her arms, her eyes locked onto mine. “I was promised sex cards and I want to see sex cards.”
Why I thought I could talk Jasmine out of something once she had her mind set on it was beyond me. I fished them out of my purse, but I still didn’t hand them over. “I feel bad about this. It’s like we’re looking at something that was meant to be private. A diary or something.”
Her gaze was locked onto the bag and I knew she was dying to get her hands on them. She was almost as excited as she got at Christmas. “Glenna, please.”
I held them up just out of her reach. “You have to promise me you’re going to be respectful.”
“You have a look on your face. That oh, I just figured this puzzle out look. Which means you’ve already spent a shit-ton of time examining these things. So please tell me the reason why I need to be respectful about sex cards.”
And that was how I lost most of my battles with my best friend—she was annoyingly logical. “You’re right, I looked them over last night. These were written for a woman named Alyssa. I think she’s a widow and these are from her late husband, written obviously before he died.”
“How could you possibly know that? Other than ‘obviously’ guessing.”
Holding up my hand, I ticked off the reasons. “I found them at a graveyard. They’re not really used. The first card tells her to masturbate. The author is directing her to get help from this Nikki, who I would assume is a sister or good friend.” I let my hand drop. “Maybe this was him trying to get her back out there. After he’d gone.”
“You mean died?” Jasmine hummed into her coffee cup and leaned farther back against her seat when I nodded. “That’s actually some pretty brilliant deduction, Sherlock. Other than the fact you’re assuming it’s a husband, I could buy that.”
“Based on the faint handwriting on the back, I assumed man. But sorry, I’ll try to be more politically correct. Significant other.”
“Thank you.” Jasmine grinned.
“Whoever she is, I assume she’s finished with the cards and that’s why she left them there. There was nothing that said anything about sex in a graveyard—”
“Not that I would know because you haven’t shown them to me yet—”
“But I think I’m going to take them back.” I sucked in a breath and held it. When Jasmine didn’t have a snarky remark I let it out slowly. “Well?”
Other than my parents, I’d say Jasmine is the one person who knows me the best in the world. I can’t think of a time since we’d first met that I’d been able to pull one over on her. Jasmine sighed and shook her head. “Do you know what I think?”
“I have no doubt that you’re about to tell me.”
“I think that you want to keep the cards. I think that you might even want to use them.” Jasmine cocked her head to the side and seemed to be considering something. “Your problem has always been that you need someone to give you permission to do anything. At least, that’s not related to your job.”
“I don’t need permission.” What a stupid idea. I was a grown woman. “I just don’t want to take something that was meant to be private and use them for my own perverted pleasure.”
I could tell from the look on Jasmine’s face that I’d totally used the wrong word choice. “How perverted?”
From the moment I’d told her about finding the cards, there was only one way this conversation was going to end. Rather than fight the inevitable any longer, I groaned and held out the cards for her to see. “I’m still taking them back.”
Jasmine waved her hand dismissively before snatching the cards and scurrying back to her desk. “Okay, my pretties, let’s see what you have for us.”
I didn’t need to see the cards to know what was written on each one. I’d spent more than enough time with them the night before to remember their words. The first few were tame, as though the author wanted to gently nudge Alyssa into some fun. Then they get a bit wild. Not outside of the realm of things that I’d consider doing, but not boring old missionary position either.
“Oh I like Day Twenty-seven.” She licked her lips. “I’ll volunteer to be the woman you kiss.”
“That would be like kissing my sister.”
“You’re breaking my heart.” She didn’t look even a little upset. “These are awesome.”
“And they’re going back to the graveyard.” I held my hand out, but Jasmine shook her head and turned her chair away from me.
“That’s a horrible idea. I mean, you haven’t even tried Day Twelve, oh and Day Twenty-six . . . my God that’s hot.”
“Jaz—”
“A vibrator in you while you go to a movie? You wouldn’t last ten minutes.”
“Will you keep your voice down? They’ll be able to hear you down the hall.”
“No. And you can’t return these.”
God, here we go. “Why not?”
“Because you don’t know where to put them.”
“I know the aisle where I found them. It shouldn’t be that hard to remember which one it came from.”
“Really?” She crossed her arms and stared at me.
It wouldn’t be that hard to figure it out, right? There were only ten or so grave markers in that section. I was pretty sure I could tell which one it was, even though I didn’t see it from the front. Though, I didn’t actually know the last name of this Alyssa person, or if she shared the same name as her late partner, so I couldn’t even be certain.
And what if they were put there accidentally?
And some poor unsuspecting person picked them up.
Or a kid.
“Shit.” I dropped my forehead to my desk. “I can’t take them back.”
Jasmine chuckled. “I love that brain of yours. I could actually see your thought process churning. So now that you’ve come to that conclusion, we need to figure out what to do with them.”
“You should take them.” I peeked up at her through my hair. “You could find some hot girl and have a lot of fun.”
“I don’t need some sex cards to help me with that. I have a few prospects lined up if I can’t get Nell to forgive me for missing our date last month.” She winked. “I do have an idea though.”
“What’s that?”
Jasmine leaned in until her face wasn’t far from mine. “You should show Eric.”
That was all it took for my imagination to kick in again. I’d walk past his office on my way to the library. He’d be coming out at the same time and we’d run into each other. The book that I had the sex cards hidden in would fall, spilling them across the floor. Naturally, he would help me pick them up and catch sight of what was written on them.
What are these, Glenna?
Oh nothing.
They don’t look like nothing.
Sex cards. I’d blush then, knowing he’d think I was a naughty girl for having them.
I’d be bent over so his gaze would travel to my cleavage. And are you using them?
I don’t have anyone to use them with.
I’d be happy to help you out with them.
And bam, crazy-monkey sex! I swore that someday I would actually know what crazy-monkey sex really was.
“Maybe. But I’m pretty certain that propositioning a coworker with sex cards at our place of employment is frowned upon.”
“No one would believe that nice, quiet Glenna O’Donald would do anything so crass as to proposition anyone. Besides, it’s perfectly fine to date colleagues or else Nell and I would have been fired two years ago.”
Jasmine was h
aving an on-off relationship with Nell, who worked in the registrar’s office. They were too much alike in many ways, which did cause some of their tension, but when they were on they were cute.
“How is Nell?”
“No, no, no. Stay on topic. You, Eric, and sex cards. We need to figure out a way for you to show him.” Jasmine gets a particular look on her face when she’s about to suggest something she knows will get me going. “I have the perfect thing. You should take them to the welcome-back barbecue and show him there.”
Not this again. “You’re insane.”
“Hear me out. That party is the first time you met him, which was this time last year. It’s been a whole frigging year of you wanting to get into this guy’s pants. Take the cards to the party and show Eric. See what he says.”
“No.” But there was something in my head that didn’t let that thought settle.
Jasmine must have picked up on it too. She stood and handed the cards back. “Just consider it, okay?”
“No.” I was already wondering if it was possible to make that happen. Would others notice? How would Eric react? “Dammit.”
“Oh look at the time. I have a meeting for the rest of the day. I better go.” Jasmine took her things and flounced away.
There she goes, my best friend and chief tormentor!
I reclaimed the cards and went to shove them back into my purse. Folded neatly along the side was Great Glenna’s letter to me. I pulled it out, holding it in one hand and the sex cards in the other. Maybe this was fate pushing me to where it wanted me to go. I needed to do something radical to break out of the comfortable shell life had cocooned me in. Acting on my Eric fantasies with some sex cards would certainly do that.
It could also be a horrible mistake with unimaginable consequences.
This wasn’t something I could think about now. I had e-mails to deal with that had piled up when I’d been gone. My sex life would survive another day without me worrying about it. I carefully folded Great Glenna’s letter, slipped it into the bag with the sex cards, and returned them to my purse.
At the end of the day, my work completed and with nothing else to do, I sucked it up and brought them home. I briefly debated taking the bus to the graveyard to return the sex cards even after telling Jasmine that I wouldn’t, but realized that mistakenly putting them on the wrong marker would be a world of awful worse than keeping them.
30 Nights Page 3