Chapter 5 PEENS, BIRTHDAY GIFTS, AND DARES
JADE
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“IT’S A PENIS pop.” I hold the chocolate-wrapped candy in the air.
My sisters cheer, and just as quickly, somber.
“I can’t believe you did it.” Hannah’s basket of goodies isn’t nearly as full as everyone else’s.
For being a mother, she sucks at hide and seek, or scavenger hunt, whatever this is. Actually, for being the lodge’s event planner, she sucks at participating.
“That makes two of us,” Natalie agrees. “He touched her ass.”
“He didn’t touch my ass.”
“Was practically groping her.”
“I am right here. You’re exaggerating, and he was nice.”
Except he was a little close. Too close. But I wasn’t backing down once I caught Hart staring.
Hell, no.
Especially not when he looked so damn angry about the entire thing.
What is his problem?
His reaction made me lean closer—which isn’t me. So I’m wondering if the alcohol is catching up with me and bringing out someone I don’t usually let out. Or it could be I’m biologically wired to make that vein in his neck twitch.
“She did it because I said she couldn’t.” Josie takes all the credit. “She’s so competitive, she couldn’t say no to locating the last piece on Bucky’s side.”
“I mean, the shots helped. Liquid courage.” I drop the chocolate into my basket.
Too bad the alcohol didn’t numb the irritation that hit me when Hart waltzed in.
Irritation.
Distain.
Quiet fury.
“Where did you get all these—” I slide into the booth.
“Dicks?” Josie supplies. “Mini-dicks. Pork swords. One-eyed Willy’s. Purple helmet love warriors—”
“Alright, calm down.” Natalie pretends like she didn’t just get super competitive searching for—I’m not sure how many—mini dildos, vibrators, and penis-shaped chocolate pops.
Each of us has a basket, and they’re all surprisingly full—except Hannah.
“I got them from The Crimson Hollow.” Josie unwraps a penis and licks the flat bottom.
Natalie swats her.
“Cleaned Charli right out of mini-dildos, travel, pocket, micro, and these”—Kiwi picks up a small, phallic-shaped one out of a basket—“bullet vibrators. They’re a favorite.”
Charli is Kiwi’s granddaughter, which apparently makes the older woman an adult toy concierge.
“You keep that one.” Josie winks at her.
“I think I will.” She slips it into her apron and takes away a handful of empty glasses.
“We are returning these,” I say. “They’re all going back to Charli.”
“Get some store credit for things you really want.” Josie bites the tip of a penis pop and looks delighted about it.
Scary.
“No. I’m just going to give them to her. I don’t need anything—”
“Sure you don’t.” Josie hands me another gift, a single envelope. “For you.”
I stare at it. “I’m not ready for any more of your gifts.”
“Shut up. You had fun.” She shakes the envelope.
I take it.
“But I do think Kiwi will be finding dildos and penis pops for the next year because this isn’t all of them.
We groan.
“Same with Bucky’s. I lied. There’s way more. I just wanted to watch you cringe flirt with that biker.”
“I don’t cringe flirt.”
“You don’t flirt.” Josie sticks the rest of the chocolate in her mouth. “But that wasn’t as painful as I thought.”
“I was not flirting.” I point the envelope at her. “I swear, if this is a guide to attract men—”
“Sex moves that will make you a legend,” Hope chimes in with raised eyebrows at her sister. “That was my bridal gift.”
“You got pregnant, so why are you complaining?” Josie drums her nails on the rim of the glass.
“Not from The Corkscrew.”
“I’m sure that move helped.” Josie lifts the drink and takes a sip.
She’s gonna be skunk drunk under the table before midnight.
“How to have sex anywhere.” Hannah air quotes a guide she once received. “Complete with step-by-step instructions for doing it in absurd places.”
“You’re welcome.” Josie pours another glass of birthday margarita. “You have kids, and I was helping you get laid in any situation where you might bump into Wyatt.”
“Shhh.” Hannah glares at her. “Nothing is going on between us, but if you keep bringing it up, the whole town will be gossiping about it.”
“I got a self-care voucher.” Natalie sets a wrapped present on the table. “Apparently, I’m so far gone from getting a guy that I need to perfect pleasuring myself.”
The whole table cracks at once.
“Didn’t think it was that funny,” Natalie mutters, but all in fun.
“I don’t want to open it,” I admit, tearing the edge.
“Don’t blame you.” Celi snaps a picture on her phone that I’m not ready for.
I expect something mildly embarrassing, and my sister doesn’t disappoint. I pull out two glossy tickets, bedazzled with glittery lettering that reads: After Dark: A Theatrical Cowboy Stripper Experience.”
I blink. “You did not.”
My sister grins like she just handed me front-row seats to heaven. “Oh, I did. Happy early birthday.”
“I’m not going to watch strippers.” I toss the tickets on the table like they might burn me.
“They’re cowboy strippers,” she adds.
“That doesn’t make it better. That might actually make it worse.”
“It’s classy,” she insists. “It’s in a theater.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, well, in that case, absolutely not.”
“I wasn’t allowed to bring them to you, so I’m bringing you to them.”
“No.”
The rest of the group whoops and whistles, voices overlapping with demands for their own tickets. This engages a round of shots.
Afterward, Hope hands me a small bag. I unwrap a handmade pottery mug from her, a leather saddle-scented candle from Hannah, and a hat-shaping gift certificate from my cousins.
Natalie waits until last to hand me a brown gift bag. She never rushes in, always the one who waits, calm and steady.
I pull away the tissue paper and reveal the wrapped gift beneath. It’s a book. I love getting lost in a good book, but so does Natalie. However, our reading choices are very different. I enjoy nature books, and she enjoys fantasy.
But this book is different. I recognize the distinct weight and shape before I tear the paper across the front. The familiar book stares back at me. The cover is dried primrose; I Mod-Podged it in my teenage years.
Memories and feelings rush back to me. For a second, I forget my sisters are watching me.
I rip off the rest of the paper and run my fingers over the mini lock still concealing all my secrets.
But not just any secrets. It holds all my most intimate secrets throughout high school, mixed in with a list of my dreams. I’d long thought it was gone. I’d tossed it in the trash when I realized I could never finish the list inside—that I didn’t want to.
I look at Natalie. “Where did you get this?”
“The garbage.”
“You took it out?” I still remember the night I tossed it in the trash can by the football field.
Natalie nods. “This was your life back then, and I thought maybe one day, you’d want to look back through it. All the memories can’t be bad.”
She has no idea.
My head is reeling. My sister had been so young. Too young to think that one day I would want this.
“But I didn’t read it. Never,” she promises. “And I thought now was a good time to give it back.”
“Thirty things to do by thirty.” Josie reads the outside. “You have a week to complete it.”
“I can’t complete this.”
“Why not?”
I press my lips together as I run my fingers along the spine and to the lock on the flap. She’d never understand, and I would never tell her—I’d never tell any of them.
“What did you bring to break the lock?” Hannah is tidying up the table, stacking plates and cutlery like she’s in her own kitchen.
“I didn’t.” Natalie folds the gift bag. “I figured she knows the combination.”
“After ten plus years, you think she remembers?” Hope slaps Hannah’s hand when it comes for her half plate of nachos. “I’m not finished.”
“I remember the code.”
I spin the numbers on the lock: nine, one, seven.
The three numbers that meant everything and now mean nothing.
I slowly open the book. My short, chipped nails hover over a thick page covered in a frenzy of half-formed sketches and cryptic symbols: a slanted, towering roof, skull-patterned rain boots hanging off the edge, a broken umbrella, jagged and twisted.
Lightning streaks.
Dark smudges spill, like rain, but too thick to be.
A footprint, disappearing into nothing.
The page pulses heavily and dangerously just like I remember.
“It looks dark.” Hannah leans her chin on my shoulder. “I didn’t realize our eldest sister had this spiraling dark side underneath the organized perfectionist.”
Only one person knows.
“Does this mean something?” she asks.
A smile steals my lips. “You can’t tell?” I tilt my head to find her horrified look.
“No.”
I laugh.
“Let me see.” Josie reaches over Celi, her hand snapping open and shut, demanding I hand it to her.
I flash it at her and then spin it toward the rest of the table. I’m not quite ready to hand over this unfiltered side of myself.
Josie’s eyebrows draw together. “What the hell was going on in your head when you drew that?”
“I like it,” Natalie says.
“Where’s the actual list?” Hannah lifts the plates to Kiwi when she stops by our table.
I flip a few pages in, and the same mixture of symbols and drawings appears. “This is my list.”
“What’s your list?”
I set the book on the table in front of me, wide open. “I didn’t want anyone knowing my secrets. So, I made it a puzzle. A mix of stuff I was too scared to say out loud.”
I flip to another page, where a broken clock has flower petals instead of numbers.
“What’s this supposed to mean?” Natalie’s interest sounds sincere.
I can’t share every item on my list, but some are harmless.
“Stop waiting for the right time.”
There’s a pause. The weight of unspoken years presses on the table. I guess it wasn’t that harmless.
“Take your own advice and stop waiting for the right time and complete this bucket list now. Let me sit beside her.” Josie disappears under the table.
Hannah whelps when a loud slap hits her leg.
“Move over.” Josie’s voice is muffled.
“Pushing and slapping isn’t how you get what you want,” Hannah says, like she’s talking to her kids.
But she wiggles closer to Celi, who slides into Josie’s seat.
Josie climbs up beside me and takes my book. “Let’s see, what can we decipher?” She flips the page and taps a heart. “What does this one mean?”
I shake my head, sipping my second, or third—is this my fourth—margarita. I’ve lost count.
“I’m not translating for you.”
“Come on.”
“If you’re so invested, you figure them out.”
She grunts, flipping through the colorful and dark pages. She points to a motorcycle helmet next to a fluffy pink scarf and red lips in the visor. There’s also a leather jacket, spiked boots, and a twisted, daring look, complete with a skull ring, black nails, and smudged red lipstick.
I can guarantee right now, it’s not what she’s thinking.
“Wait. Were you already checking this off your list?” She stands up and hops over top of me, her feet smacking the floor.
Gripping my hand, she drags me to the hole in the wall to peek through at the bar next door.
“That ain’t a walkway,” Kiwi snarls. “You go in there, you better be able to run faster than I throw.”
My sisters press up behind me. Josie points at the rugged, broad-shouldered biker I’ve already had introductions with.
Dusty boots.
Leather vest.
Tattoos curling up his arms.
He lines up another shot, cigarette tucked behind his ear, his silence like gravity.
Definitely not local.
“You said it yourself. Stop waiting. It’s time to do something crazy. Like—that guy. Do that guy.”
“I’m not doing anyone.”
“You said there was no flirting, but your list wants you to flirt.”
It isn’t what my list says. Not even close.
Josie elbows my middle. “He looks fun.”
“He looks like he’d break you in half and not even care.” Hannah doesn’t raise her voice, just drops it an octave—the mama tone had arrived.
“Break in half, bend over the pool table. One could only wish,” Josie purrs. “Come on, flirt with a stranger.” She taps my book. “See if it leads anywhere. You said he was nice.”
“He looks like he bench-presses trucks.” Hannah’s words are wrapped in concern. “And pins ladies against the wall of grimy roadside gas station bathrooms.”
“Yes, please.” Josie waves my book back and forth, a desperate shield against the lustful heat she can’t quite hide. “I know for a fact that Bucky’s bathrooms are clean and fuckable. Ask Hannah. It’s on her list.”
“Along with exactly what positions to use and where.” Hannah catches the book and lowers it to glare at Josie. “She’s going to end up carved up on the side of the road.”
“Alright, let’s settle down.” Hope reaches for the book, but Josie’s fingers clutch it like a lifeline, and Hannah’s knuckles go white as she holds the other side tight.
There’s a grunting tug-of-war before Hope finally pries it free. Honestly, I think it had more to do with her being pregnant and them giving up than pure strength.
“Jade most certainly is not walking up to a random biker and—”
But I’m already through the archway.
My hands shake, but the shots have long kicked in. I’m not drunk—not even close—but there’s a spark of something, and it is lighting a fuse. Or it’s that blasted book. The meaning behind it. The pain. Tack on Hart and that vein, it only makes sense to go and play this out.
I glance back at my sisters, enjoying their dramatic, surprised gazes.
Their whispers follow me.
“She’s lying.”
“She’s messin’ with us.”
“Jade would never.”
And usually I would never, but tonight, let’s see how this plays out.