“Thank you for unhinging my sanity, threatening the stability of my life, with one text. Because that’s how it begins, one text, one message. “I’m coming to town. Would like to see you.”
And I think, why not? Old friend. Oldest of friends. Favourite of ex-lovers. Married now, as am I. Both anchored in lives full of obligation, responsibility to others. Safe. What’s the harm? We’re neither one of us stupid enough to risk our marriages, our families, our real lives. Are we?”
As Jane “sexts” her lover and attempts to figure out how this aspect of herself fits into the obligations of marriage and motherhood, other relationships around her strain, fracture, and collapse.
Her best friend is recklessly pursuing a series of cyber-affairs, while another friend attempts an open, polyamorous marriage. Her next-door neighbour is planning a wedding with her on-again/off-again lover—but will it really happen?
Meanwhile her lawyer-husband is exchanging a lot of texts with an adoring young associate. Does Jane care? Or is she too engulfed in her own sanity-straining cyber affair to really notice?
M. Jane Colette’s left-brain persona spends a lot of time in board rooms, “war rooms” and court rooms parsing lies. Her right-brain persona longs to be an iconoclast and artist. When nobody’s looking, she writes poetry (badly) and throws paint at canvas (less badly). Tell Me is their first collaboration, and celebrates their joint love affair with Calgary, Montreal, texting and impractical shoes.
HOLIDAY STRESS HAS NEVER BEEN THIS HOT
Meet Florence: I’ve done this before, looking for a partner or soul mate or someone-to-grow-to-love, and you know what? I’m done with that. Honestly. I’m just looking for some casual sex. All I’m interested in is a one-night stand, or several—not all of them with you. Just making it clear that I’m interested in playing with multiple partners. I don’t want to get attached and I don’t want you to get attached.
Meet Will: I’m reeling from a recent divorce and incapable of having a meaningful relationship, possibly even a meaningful conversation. The only upside to my situation is that after fifteen years of monogamy I get to chase all the strange I want.
He’s freshly divorced and in denial. She's twice-burnt and prickly. They’re a terrible idea. They know this. But every time their eyes meet, their clothes come off. Still—they’re not going to fall in love. They are not.
Not even if this one night stand has 365 days.
In Episode 2: Delayed Valentine, Will gets his hard-won Valentine’s Date with Florence. And she’s almost excited about it. She even buys him flowers. Really. And then...
She loved the way he said her name.
“I can’t believe you followed me into the washroom.”
“Shh. I figured out what was wrong,” he said. His face was still hidden in her hair. She couldn’t see him. He couldn’t see her. She closed her eyes and felt the tears come.
He kissed her neck.
“We didn’t,” he said, and lifted her hair up a little, kissed her neck lower, “really say,” he yanked at her dress’s neckline and kissed her shoulder, then her back, “say hello properly.”
She swivelled around to face him, to find his lips, then remembered her tears and tried to turn back around.
He swivelled her back. Kissed a cheek, then the other, then her nose.
“I wish you hadn’t put on make-up,” he said. “I want to devour your eyes.”
“I can wash my face,” she said.
“Do it,” he said. And bent her over the sink.