Valentine’s Day Mix-Up: The Unexpected Gift Part 3

As I approached the backyard, I was assailed by a bout of rebellion. I was a grown-ass woman for goodness sake. I was a woman of twenty-six years who had a right to a sexual life. Why should I be in so much panic because my family would know that I had bought a sex toy? It wasn’t even as if it was a dildo. I had to admit that a dildo would have been extremely awkward. A rose, on the other hand, was a cute little toy that was rumoured to be an orgasmic game-changer for women. I shouldn’t feel anxious over this.

My newfound bravado faltered when I got to the backyard and found my grandmother, Mrs. Theresa Aikens, sitting regally in one of her grey rattan garden chairs, sipping a cup of her favourite Typhoo tea. 

My grandmother was a formidable woman, set in her ideologies about life and the role of women in it, and as her eyes skimmed over me judgmentally, I forced myself not to squirm. 

“Good morning, Grandma,” I greeted.

“You’re not getting any younger,” she informed me unnecessarily instead of answering my greeting. 

“Neither are you, Grandma,” I responded, the sass coming out before I could stop myself.

For a few seconds, she looked like she couldn’t believe my audacity. Then she huffed. 

“At least when I was your age, I was married with children.”

“Congratulations on your achievement, Grandma,” I returned, suddenly tired of the constant judgement and the pressure to get married.

“This attitude is why you don’t have a husband at your age. Men don’t like women who talk back.”

“Oh for god’s sake. I didn’t come here to be judged or argue about your patriarchal values or internalised misogyny, Grandma. I came to pick up something that got mixed up in Kojo’s package. Mom said she gave the whole package to you when they dropped him off.”

“The bag is on the dining table,” she sniffed.

“I’ve seen it, but the box I’m looking for is not in it. Only the white plastic bag it was in is on the table.”

My grandmother shrugged. “That must be the toy Kojo opened. I told him he could open one before breakfast.”

Wait, what? I felt my heart drop.

“He…he opened it? Where is he?”

“He went to bring me the box to look at because he couldn’t figure out what kind of toy it was.”

God have mercy! 

“Kojo!” I called as I rushed out to meet him so that I could grab the box from him before he returned to the backyard to show my grandmother. 

“Dee!” He cried happily when he saw me, dropping the box in his haste to hug me. He was such a sweet child.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” he said, giving the box to me. “Can you show me how to play?”

I grabbed the box in relief, chuckling. “This is a big girl toy, kiddo. I accidentally added it to your bag.”

He frowned, “But I like it! It’s pretty.”

A laugh escaped me. “I know it’s pretty, but trust me, you won’t like it. You will like your other gifts better. I got you two race cars. Do you want to see?”


Crisis averted, I  took his hand and pulled him back to the dining room. “Let’s go find the cars.”

I quickly stuffed my box back into the white plastic bag and took out the race cars from Kojo’s gift bag, smiling when he squealed in delight. 

“Thank you, Dee!”

“You’re welcome, Kojo.”

I took the cars out of their packaging and set them on the floor so that he could play.

I watched him for a while, relaxing in one of the dining chairs. 

When my phone rang, I picked it up guiltily. 

“Well?” Gina asked.

“I’m sorry I forgot to call back. I found it!”

I lowered my voice. “Kojo had it. He couldn’t figure it out and asked my grandma to show him how to play with it.”


“Luckily for me, she told him to bring the box so she could help him figure it out,” I explained.

“Okay. So where was the toy?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You said he was going to bring the box. Where was the toy while he was bringing the box?”

Feeling a little uneasy, I opened the white plastic bag again to pull out the box I had hurriedly stashed inside. “I assume that it will be in the bo —”

I gasped when I opened the box to find it empty. 

“What is the problem now?”

“The toy isn’t in here,” I groaned.


My eyes flitted to my brother, who was now busy with his race cars. 

“Kojo? Where’s the toy that was in here?”

“I gave it to grandma,” he told me innocently, then promptly returned to his cars. 

Oh, for goodness sake! 

“Kojo, I’ll be right back okay?” I told him, marching back to the backyard. 

“Did I just hear that?” Gina asked through the phone.

“Yes, you did. And you know what? I am tired of being so anxious over a toy that is supposed to bring me pleasure. I’m going to get my well-deserved Valentine’s present from my judgemental grandmother, then I’m going to go home and fuck myself to an earth-shattering orgasm with it.”

Gina laughed. “That’s the spirit! And do keep the line open, would you? I want to hear your last words if you get sent straight to hell for your worldly desires.”

I snorted, coming to a stop when I saw my grandmother straightening quickly with a guilty look on her face when she saw me approaching. 

“I think you have something of mine,” I tell her with all the bravado I can muster, making sure to keep my chin high like she tried to teach me.

“Do you mean this?” She asked, taking my rose toy from the chair beside her.

I felt my heart drop but I steeled myself.

“Yes,” I admitted, reaching a hand out to take it.

“I know what this is,” she informed me with narrowed eyes, not handing it over.

“I’ve heard a lot about it,” she continues, still not handing it over. “And I know what it is for.”

I felt my cheeks getting hot, but I was determined to have a backbone in front of this woman for the first time in my life. 

“Well, I need it back. It is my Valentine’s gift to myself. Since I don’t have a husband and all,” I added defiantly. 

“Well, I’m sorry, but you can’t have it back.”

“What? It’s mine. I –”

“I’m keeping this as my Valentine’s Day gift. You can get yourself another one,” she informed me, shocking me into silence. 

“In fact, I’ll take this as well so that I can learn how to operate it properly,” she added, snatching the box from my hand and rising from her seat as I gaped at her, gobsmacked.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Delores,” she called, walking off with my pleasure rose in hand.

You could have knocked me over with a feather.

“Babe? Did I just hear —” I heard Gina asking when I returned my phone to my ear.

“Yes, yes, you did. And we shall never speak of this, ever.”

Gina laughed. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Dee. Your client has picked up her dress. Are you coming home?”

“Yes, but I have a stop to make first. I need to get myself a new pleasure rose. Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to everybody.”

Leave a reply:

Your email address will not be published.