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The Bet (Snapshot)

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Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction for personal enjoyment. The story does NOT describe real events and the characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real events or persons is coincidence.

In keeping with its fictional nature, the events and activities described in the story may not be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.

“You’re putting words in my mouth!  Darling, I didn’t say you ‘couldn’t’ do it, I just said you wouldn’t!”

Olivia huffed at her husband.  She drained the last of her Moscato, turning toward the sliding door.

“Well, if the topic of conversation out here is going to be things I can and cannot do, then I’m going back inside…”

Rachel jumped up, still playing hostess.

“Don’t mind him!  He’s just being dumb.  I’m out too, you stay and I’ll get us more.”

She took Olivia’s glass and slid though the backdoor, negotiating her way through the guests inside.  So far the party had been successful; it was tasteful and elegant without feeling stifled.

It had been raining all day.  Now the sun was setting and the clouds were finally breaking up.  Olivia and Roger, along with Carl, Rachel’s husband, were out on the back patio.  The crowd inside was starting to get a bit stuffy, and Carl wanted to smoke one of his stinky little cigars.

Roger stepped over, squeezing her shoulders.

“I know as well as anybody, there’s nothing you can’t do if you put your mind to it.  All I’m saying, is you know better!  It’s not worth the trouble.  Look, even if you could make it all the way down, then you’d have to come back up…”

Olivia pushed him away.

“Now there you go again!  You don’t think I could do it!”

Carl, from his seat in a deck chair, protested.

“Ah Liv, I don’t think that’s what he means.  It was a stupid thought to begin with, forget I said anything!”

She crossed her arms and stared out off the deck and down the sloped backyard.

Rachel came back, a brimming wineglass in each hand.   Passing one to Olivia, she settled on the arm of Carl’s chair.

“So, are we over that whole silly business now?”

Roger gave her a wink and a smile.

Still in a pouting, impulsive mood, Olivia sipped her wine.  She mentally weighed her options.  Her dress was red, knee-length and v-necked; it was nice enough, but she picked it up on sale for a steal.  It was Rachel’s party, so she’d understand.  Her hair gave her a moment’s pause; it was dark brown and trimmed to the nape of her neck, cut to balance grown-up efficiency and youthful cuteness.  But she really liked how it looked tonight, flipped up and swept to the side.  And it went with the smokiness around her eyes she’d finally mastered…

Nope.  Didn’t matter.  This was about proving a point to Roger.  She drained her glass in a long gulp.

“I’m doing it.”

Roger smiled softly, offering his palms in supplication.

“Whatever you want dear.”

Carl was making an effort to keep his face neutral.  Rachel was grinning slightly.

“Headfirst, sweetie.”  She pantomimed pulling up the bottom of her own dress.

Olivia nodded.   She wasn’t drunk, but she wasn’t sober either.  It was now or never.

Leaving her purse and heels behind, she stepped off the deck onto the rain-soaked grass.  The lawn ended abruptly at the crest of the slope.  There was a shallow channel cut in the hill, where stairs were going to be placed.  The channel led down to the bottom, near the edge of a rectangular pit; where the pool was going to be built.  Right now, having just been dug, the future-pool was only a light-brown indentation in the stretch of grass at the bottom.

She considered the route, banishing any second thoughts.  The path down was damp and shiny.  It looked plenty slippery.  Olivia took a deep breath, and dove into the channel, headfirst.

It was a lot like a flume ride at a water park, or an extra-slick playground slide.  Her eyes were closed, but she could feel herself picking up speed.  Mud flecks sprayed everywhere, but she didn’t care.  This was a cakewalk; she was going to make it to the bottom easily.  With momentum to spare.  Maybe too much…

From the deck, they watched the red blur zip down the impromptu-mudslide.  They watched her reach the bottom, and hit the grassy burm separating future-stairs from future-pool.  They heard Olivia’s exclamation, as she left the ground.

“Eep!”

She landed in the pre-pool on her stomach, vanishing in the mire with a splash.  It wasn’t just mud, but the dirty rainwater making up the rest of the mixture wasn’t much better.  It wasn’t deep either; once she floundered onto her knees, the slop only reached the middle of her thighs.  She spat out some of the mud, which covered her completely, noting that the muck was deep enough.

Olivia stood shakily, aware that bare feet offered very little traction.  Any boozy fog was gone.  Surprising, how swiftly an unexpected mud-bath can sober you up.  She felt twenty pounds heavier soaked and muddy, and the mass of ooze caked on her head clung tight.  Feeling her way to the edge, she wiped her hands on the grass, enough to clear her eyes and see where she was going.

Up on the deck, they were staring down, just barely not laughing.  Rachel called to her.

“Oh wow, Liv!  I’m going to get my old gym shoes, so you can get back up!  You two!  Go get her!  I’ll bring towels.”

Rachel disappeared into the house, just as a giggling fit overwhelmed her.  The men both stood.  Framed by the glow coming from the party inside, in the falling light Olivia could see them plainly.

Cigar in his teeth, Carl shrugged ruefully, wearing a ‘you win’ expression.  He drew his wallet and handed Roger several bills.  Smiling slyly, Roger slid the money into his pocket.  He turned and waived happily to his mud-coated wife, while Carl tucked his wallet away before Rachel returned.

Suddenly everything made sense.  Olivia waved back, her expression hidden under the mud.  She scooped a handful of the grey-brown glop out of her dress.  Oh, they were going to have a long talk on the ride home…



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