Chapter 1

The comfort-class taxi smoothly turned left, and I stared wide-eyed at the familiar sprawl of my home city. My aunt Mary, upon hearing I was finally going on my long-awaited vacation, started calling nonstop, begging me to look after her house and the garden she’d planted. Her daughter-in-law had given birth to a baby boy two weeks ago, and Mary busied herself teaching her how to wash diapers and bathe an infant.

I’m an unmarried young woman, unburdened by family, and truth be told, I wasn’t planning to go anywhere for my vacation. The Maldives are too expensive, and my latest lover, who swears daily of his love and devotion, brings me nothing but cheap jewelry. Because he’s married, the little bastard.

Enjoying the lush, fresh green of the trees outside the car window, I leaned back into the seat and closed my eyes dreamily.

“Don’t think me rude, but it’s a long drive, and I’d like to chat a bit with a beauty like you,” said the taxi driver, tilting his head slightly toward the back seat where I was settled.

I opened my eyes, adjusted my blouse over my chest - my pride and my weapon of seduction - and graciously allowed him the privilege of conversation:

“Go ahead, talk. The road is really long and I don’t mind to have a company.”

“Are you heading to a town for long? Visiting family or going back to your roots, back home?” after a brief pause, the driver asked again.

“I gave in to my dear aunt, who owns a house in this town. She recently became a grandmother and got completely lost in this new role. Of cours,e she needs to help her daughter-in-law, but she couldn't just forget about her precious vegetables in the garden. So here I am, coming to save the day. Raspberries, strawberries, and a sauna - paradise on earth! I'll relax in the fresh air and help my aunt, business with pleasure,” I replied and got bored.

My conversation partner wasn't particularly interesting, to begin with, let alone I generally don't let mustachioed men get too close. And what kind of profession is a taxi driver anyway? No money, no free time. Sensing my disinterest in further conversation, the driver fell silent.

After driving some more in silence, the mustachioed and persistent driver broke the quiet again:

“What is your profession, if it’s not a secret?”

“I'm a multi-talent,” I answered, proudly thrusting my beautiful, ample chest forward, “I work at a beauty salon. Eyebrows, nails, haircuts, coloring - everything's in my hands. Mostly women appreciate my talents, but sometimes men drop by too. They really love my golden hands. They literally say: "Catherine - you are the empress."

“That’s cool. Our city is quite small and I don’t think I've ever seen a real beauty salon here. If it's not a secret, what's the name of the place?” looking in the rearview mirror, he asked with a subtle chuckle.

I pursed my lips in displeasure and considered not answering this stupid, tactless question at all, but then, “thawing” slightly, said, “Gardens of Eden.”

After that, the mustachioed and ill-mannered driver didn't ask me anything else. As for me, after carefully inspecting my fingers for proper grooming, I grew bored. The landscapes outside the window kept changing into exact copies of themselves, and my good mood gradually turned sour.

After driving about another mile, my phone buzzed in my bag. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. My friend's cute face flashed on the display - she'd taken my place at the salon for the whole month of my vacation. She was a so-so hairdresser, but in her I found a kindred spirit. At least she'd never stolen any men from me. And that's one of the most important criteria in female friendships. Without hesitation, I answered the call:

“Hey Laura, something wrong?”

“Hi Kathy! Absolutely nothing's wrong, except your Mark came in screaming like a madman to the whole salon that you didn't even bother to tell him you went on vacation. When he found out you took a whole month off, he completely lost it. Said he'd find you and punish real good,” she started rattling into the phone, huffing like a steam engine.

Knowing my friend like the back of my hand, I could clearly picture her puffing on her stinky cigarette while gesturing wildly like a circus performer. That was her funny habit - using her hands to help express herself during conversations.

“Please, he's completely harmless. That idiot needs to drink less, then he might remember I told him a week ago I was leaving. I even gave him the address. By the way, come visit with him in a couple of weeks. I'll have rested by then, have missed you guys, and we can throw a retro-style party. My aunt's place is perfect for retro, and there's a sauna too. Also, you can get some sun in the garden - you're pale as a ghost.”

“Alright, I'll try. Weekend's the earliest I can make it. What should I tell your loverboy, though? Should he come up with some excuse for his wife so we can come together? He threatened to come back tomorrow to find out where you are.”

“What a jackass. Couldn't he just call? Or is the family budget too tight to pay the phone bill? Whatever, I'm hanging up. Give him my regards - tell him to come see me.”

Pressing the red end call button, I twirled the phone in my hands before dropping it back into my bag. Barely a minute later, it vibrated again. I smirked, expecting to see the massive mug of my bald lover on the screen, but instead I found my cute friend's face staring back at me. Raising an eyebrow in surprise and wondering what she'd forgotten to tell me earlier, I hit “accept” again:

“Hello! You lost in time or something? Just called me.”

“Yeah, I completely forgot. That bald idiot of yours distracted me. Anyway, here's what I wanted to tell. I was at my mom's workplace over the weekend, trimming cat's nails. And there I ran into Agatha Smith - you know, the one who works the register at the vet clinic? She finally sold her house two weeks ago to some girl. Took her forever to get rid of that place. You've got a new neighbor now.”

“Damn, had I known this would happen, I wouldn't have come. You know, Laura, my aunt's place and that neighbor's are technically the same house? Same one plot of land too, just big. A weird construction - one building for two owners. So now I have to spend a whole month putting up with some city princess while I was planning to pick raspberries naked in the garden?”

“Seriously? How you gonna handle that? Cover your tits with newspaper? I wouldn't want the new neighbor to jinx all that beauty.”

“Keep talking, I dare you. She sold to a woman, not a man. Why should I hide? By the way, do you know who she is? At least someone decent? Don't tell me I'll have to lock myself in now.”

“Just heard she's some kind of artist. Bohemian, in short. Probably gonna paint canvases of village scenery and enjoy the fresh air.”

“Whatever, I'll figure it out when I get there. Not my house anyway - my aunt can deal with the artist herself. My job's just watering dahlias and picking strawberries. I'll sort it out when I arrive. Later, bestie.”

I put the phone away and looked at the road. While chatting with Laura, we'd arrived at our destination. Handing the unpleasant driver his fare, I stepped out to the gate and stretched sweetly. The June air hadn't yet reached asphalt-melting temperatures, and a comfortable coolness enveloped me. Grabbing my suitcase, I headed toward the gate.

Walking toward the house, I surveyed the territory with a proprietorial gaze. This wasn't my first vacation at Mary's place, and I knew every bush on her yard. Now, carefully inspecting my upcoming domain, I didn't miss a single detail. And as always, my vigilance paid off.

There, on the prettiest lawn near the acacia bushes, I spotted a foreign object - an expensive-looking beach chair with metal supports. This definitely wasn't my aunt's purchase - she definitely wasn’t someone rich. Looked like this piece of garden furniture belonged to the new owner of the other half.

I didn't like this development one bit. Asserting my familial rights to the property, I decided to set boundaries immediately. Leaving my suitcase by the entrance door, I marched toward the other half of the house. Rounding the corner past lilac bushes, I used the practically symbolic gate that nobody had touched in years - Agatha had been trying to sell for a decade, and both the fence and entrance to her side desperately needed repairs.

“Anyone home?” I asked loudly, banging on the weathered wooden door that badly needed repainting.

“Good afternoon!” answered an unfamiliar girl, opening the door and wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

“Afternoon!” I returned the greeting, sizing up my vacation intruder.

She was beautiful, her hair styled in an elaborate updo that shimmered with expensive dye. The light daytime makeup accentuated her best features.

“Miss, why is your patio chair on my aunt's property? You've got your own fenced yard. What gives you the right to use our land for your leisure?” I deliberately raised my voice to show her she couldn't mess with me. Let her know I wouldn't tolerate such audacity.

“Please forgive me,” the neighbor said, “Agatha, when selling the house, told me this fence was just a formality and we could share the garden space. I didn't realize you had different expectations about neighborly relations. My apologies.”

“Fine, understood. I just arrived and I'm exhausted. But I expect you for a cohabitation briefing this evening. On my side of the property, over raspberry tea. And move that chair back to your side before then. Understood?” I demanded authoritatively, leaning in closer to emphasize who she was dealing with.

The girl nodded eagerly and smiled. Her reaction amused me greatly. I couldn't quite explain why, but I liked it. I've always liked compliant people.

“What's your name anyway?” I asked before leaving.

“Jasmin,” she answered, swinging the door wide to invite me in. I ignored the gesture, grabbed the handle, and slammed it shut in her face.

"Just you wait! I'll show you!" I thought to myself as I went to unpack. Even though the neighbor seemed docile, I couldn't let my guard down. Such types need constant discipline, like small dogs. Amusing to play with, but never forget they require firm training.

Chapter 2

That same evening, having had a good rest, I went out into the garden for some fresh air. And at the same time, to see whether the new neighbor had removed the chair that she had promised to move by all means.

Imagine my surprise when I approached the acacia bushes and discovered the hateful chair, standing quietly in the same place where I had tripped over it earlier.

“Stupid cow,” I thought, and quickly walked towards the wobbling fence, with the goal of giving careless Jasmin a lesson.

Approaching the second half of the house, I knocked on the door of my neighbor for the second time. She opened it right away, as if she had been standing next to it and waiting for my arrival.

“I bet you want to talk about the chair,” she smiled, opening the door wide for me again. “Please come in!”

"Let me invite you for raspberry tea and tell about living together and sharing the combined house plots. Would that work?" Unexpectedly, even for myself, I softened the "blow." After all, when I came here, I really wanted to punish the disobedient one.

"Oh, thank you very much. I'll just take the cookies out of the oven and come to your place with some treats," Jasmin said, turning deeply red, again amusing me with her endless nodding, as if agreeing with my every word.

I sighed and smiled, I didn't feel hostility towards her anymore. I walked towards the gazebo to make some tea. If she wants to treat me, I don’t mind at all.

About fifteen minutes later, I heard the light footsteps of my neighbor, who was indeed carrying a huge platter with beautiful, golden-brown cookies on it. I love pastries very much, so I was happy about the treat.

I showed her where she could sit, and after pouring hot tea into the cups, I turned to her:

“My name is Catherine and I am Mary's niece. I'll be living here for a month until my vacation is over. We're going to be neighbors, and we should know as much as possible about each other. Don't you think?"

While Jasmin was thinking about the answer and deciding what to do, I treated myself to some cookies. Surprisingly, they turned out to be extremely tasty. It became clear right away that the cookie's owner knew how to cook.

“You know my name,” the neighbor began to answer my question, “And there is practically nothing else to know about me. I graduated from the Nashville Art School, went to work for a company that hand-painted porcelain dishes. They paid well so I managed to save up some money. No children, not even a boyfriend. Spending it only on myself wasn’t interesting, so I easily parted with the money, buying this house. The company where I worked finally went bankrupt, and I decided it was time for me to rest. I am a fairly boring person, not interesting to society, and I decided that living in the small town is just right for me. I got very tired of the city. The hustle and bustle, cars, people - they interfere with me and my creativity. I’m going to paint pictures, enjoy the landscapes, and look after the garden.”

“I see,” I said, having listened attentively to her story, “But you're drawing the wrong conclusions about yourself. You're unlucky with guys now, but you'll get lucky later. By the way, how old are you?”

“Twenty-six,” she answered, modestly lowering her eyes. As if this number embarrassed her.

“Well, you see? You still have everything ahead of you. Why get hung up on this town? Mostly old men and women live here, there are only few young people. Actually, the city I come from is also not rich in men. But this doesn’t mean you should stop searching. Otherwise, you will quickly turn into a man-hater, and this is not good for your health.”

“Oh, come on, that's not what I meant at all. I'm just not looking for a man, I don't really need one.”

“All women need this,” I summed up the conversation, and got up from the chair.

While we were getting to know each other, I was unpleasantly surprised that I ate all her cookies. The dish was empty, and Jasmin didn’t even take a single one of her own baked goods. This “hit” me, and in order to not feel awkward, I said, “And now let’s go to the garden and vegetable patch. I’ll tell you about living together and the duties of neighbors.”

She stood up without complaint and followed me.

“Look,” I pointed to the currant bushes, “this is a berry that grows on both mine and your plots. It will need to be picked in a few days, or maybe even tomorrow. It is already completely black, and smells sweet. Therefore, this will be a joint effort.”

“Okay, thank you, I understand,” Jasmin began to mumble, amusing me again with her habit of slightly shaking her head in agreement. I chuckled and continued.

“And this,” I pointed with my left hand towards the sauna, “is also for joint use. The two neighbors have been friends all their lives. My aunt and Agatha. Their husbands are brothers. So, practically speaking, they are related, and they installed one sauna for two families. Accordingly, you can also use this at your own discretion. But remember, cleaning up after each visit to public places is a duty that must be strictly fulfilled. Got it?”

“I understand, of course. I will clean it,” Jasmin agreed, and we went on.

“As I understand, you decided to leave the chair on my territory after all? Are you so attracted to the acacia bushes?” I asked, pointing to where it stood.

“Yes, if it’s okay, I would like to leave it here. It is heavy, I can’t roll it up and carry it alone. If it doesn’t bother you, let me leave it here. And use it yourself, I don’t mind,” she said and blushed deeply again, as if she were guilty of something. I hardly restrained the urge to stroke her head to calm her down.

“You are so predictable, that’s funny,” I thought and smiled in her face.

“Okay, Jasmin, let it stand then. Indeed, the iron is heavy. Then I will take advantage of your kindness and rest a little in the garden,” I stated matter-of-factly, taking the phone out of my pocket. “I want to call a friend. And you could run for a bucket and start picking currants? And tomorrow we will make a jam together, it’ll be delicious.”

“Oh, I'm so tired today. I should rest too. I've been painting since five in the morning, and then I baked the cookies you liked so much,” Jasmin began to justify herself, taking a few steps back, trying to leave.

I flared up, remembering the empty dish and my wolfish appetite, and, justifying myself that it happened by accident, I tried to put a note of “steel” into my voice.

“If you decided your fatigue is much greater than mine, no problem. You can do nothing. But I will draw conclusions that are not in your favor.”

Jasmin hung her head low and, shifting from one foot to the other, told me she would go get a bucket now and help us with the harvest. I nodded my head in satisfaction, allowing her to go.

Sitting in the chair like a queen, I dialed Laura’s number, and hearing “hello,” I began to tell her the news.

“Girl, you can't imagine what kind of specimen I have in my garden right now. You'll see when you come and it'll blow your mind.”

“Did you catch a hare there or something? What should I be surprised about? I've been friends with you for so many years so I'm already used to everything,” Laura answered, puffing on her cigarette. I could almost hear her inhaling and exhaling smoke.

“I wanted to tell you about the neighbor, the new one, who bought the house from Agatha Smith.”

“Ah! Well, go ahead. How do you like her?”

“Laura, this is the century disaster. Beautiful, with her hair done, with makeup, but such a wimp. She is an artist. She constantly entertains me with her manner of nodding her head in agreement. Like a Chinese bobblehead, back and forth.”

“Knowing you, you probably already told her about it. And punished her with a weighty word, right?”

“Don't make a monster out of me! I just gave her a couple of strict recommendations, ha-ha, and that’s enough… for now!”

“I'll come and have a look at this beauty. You described her so unrealistically. What, is she a real artist?”

“How should I know? I haven't seen her work yet. She brought cookies, we ate and got acquainted. She says she graduated from art school.”

“I see. Well, soon you'll see how things really are. Maybe she is real talent.”

“Yeah, might be. Did my bald and darling lover come? When you are going to visit me here?”

“Yes, he came and apologized. Sober. He said we will come to you on Saturday.”

“Okay, then I’ll be waiting. And now I’m going to pick some currants and make some jam.”

“You're a great hostess. Don't overwork yourself, it's vacation. Rest more.”

We said goodbye and I hung up. While I was talking to my bestie, Jasmin ran for a bucket and got to work. I sat on the chair, watched her deftly deal with the currant bushes, and thought:

"If you go through life bending your back like this and remain unpunished for it, then what's the point of justice? As a fair person, I have to punish her. And also, it’d be a sin to not take advantage of this fool. She will work for me, and I will rest at her expense." I really liked my thoughts and closed my eyes with satisfaction.

Chapter 3

I opened my eyes when it was already hot and realized that morning had turned into day. After lying in bed for a while longer, I decided it wouldn't hurt to take a walk to the store. I only had eggs and a piece of stale cheese in the fridge, and I was incredibly hungry.

But looking at myself in the mirror and discovering a flaw in my appearance in the form of messy hair, I changed my decision from "go to the store now" to "go to the store later after washing some parts of my body.” Taking a bath towel and shampoo, I went out, exposing my face to the sun. I wanted to come to the city after my vacation, ruddy and with a bronze tan on my skin.

After walking two hundred meters through the garden and surveying the territory that needed watering and weeding, I sighed heavily:

"Jesus, I don't want to fuss with these plants at all. All I want is to spread out a towel and lie in the sun naked for two or three hours. Not weeding stupid potatoes and watering cucumbers," I said to myself, and turned towards the sauna.

Seeing the open door of the dressing room, I became a bit alarmed and walked slower to understand why it was open. And when Jasmin's back appeared in the doorway, I saw she was washing the floors in the sauna.

“Hi, neighbor!” I greeted her. Seeing her working immediately put me in a good mood, and I decided I won’t be angry with her today.

Jasmin turned her head and, smiling affably, greeted me:

“Hi, Catherine! Are you up already?”

"She's hinting I slept until afternoon. None of her business at all! I'm on vacation," thoughts raced through my head, forcing me to contain my dislike for her.

I decided not to comment on Jasmin's words and silently pointed to the towel and shampoo. As if to say, guess for yourself, maybe it's time for you and your stupid rag to leave the sauna?

“Yes, yes, right now. I've already finished washing,” she said as if hearing my thoughts, and, taking the bucket with dirty water in her hand, put the rag in it. I went inside and, so that my neighbor would feel all her guilt, pointed to the right corner of the dressing room:

“You haven't washed there,” I said in a commanding tone, looking at her reaction.

Jasmin immediately pulled a rag out of the bucket and began to scrub the corner where there was a soot stain the size of a walnut. I chuckled with satisfaction and put my stuff on the shelf.

After taking a shower and carefully blow-drying my hair, I looked at myself in the mirror with satisfaction. The reflection showed me a beautiful woman with bright red hair, in which the sunbeams were entangled. "Beauty," I praised myself and began to pack my things. Looking at the soap stains on the floor, which, according to my own rules, I had to clean up after myself, I decided that I’m not doing this. "They will dry, and Jasmin will wash for me next time she comes here with a rag," I thought and smiled to my idea.

Coming out of the sauna and looking at the potatoes, that were overgrown with weeds, I felt a little sad. But then, making a lightning-quick decision, I turned towards my neighbor's front door. After knocking and waiting for two minutes, I realized no one’s gonna open it.

"Pity, the plan was good. Going to the store and making Jasmin weed the potatoes would have been just what I needed," I thought, and walked disappointedly toward my half of the house. But midway, I stopped dead in my tracks. Near the acacia bushes, where Jasmin's patio chair was located, there was an easel and a small table with brushes, paints, and colorful cloths laid out on it. And on the easel, a beautiful painting was already mounted. From the left corner, it was slightly unfinished and white spots flickered there, but overall, the picture drew attention to itself. Off to the side from the easel, engrossed in washing brushes in a bucket, Jasmin was humming some song and paying absolutely no attention to me as I approached.

“Is this your masterpiece?” I asked, pointing at the painting with my finger.

“Yes, I drew it. Do you like it?” Jasmin asked, smiling at me.

“Actually, it’s very beautiful. And so realistic, I’d even say breathtaking,” I said sincerely, completely forgetting why I even approached her. Then I remembered and, tearing my gaze away from the drawing, said, “Neighbor, we need to weed the potatoes. The housewives planted them together in the spring, so we need to weed them together. And in the fall, you and my aunt will harvest it and eat all winter. Mashed potatoes, pies, soups etc - we can't do without potatoes, as you understand.”

“Kathy, I can't. I totally have to finish the painting today. I have a buyer for it. It would be a shame if I don't meet the deadline. I don't have much work left. Let's do the weeding tomorrow, okay?” Jasmin asked, looking at me pitifully, folding her hands like begging for mercy with this gesture.

“Well, it's up to you,” I said, turning my back to her, “but if you treat vegetables like this, not well-kept, don't expect a harvest.”

Without waiting for her answer, I slowly walked towards the house. Having changed into a beautiful suit that I recently bought and taken my handbag, I headed towards the store. The moment I walked in, I was delighted to see Sandra, my childhood friend, behind the counter. She, seeing me from afar, happily waved her hand.

“Hello! So you've arrived? Did your aunt stay with the baby?” she asked me, smiling warmly.

“Yes, Mary decided to stay in the city, to help her daughter-in-law. I will look after the house for a month, as she asked. Which is quite suitable as I needed to spend my vacation somewhere. I can't spend it all in the city,” I said, approaching the counter.

“Glad to see you. I bet you came to buy something to eat? You don't really like cooking as I remember from last summer. Look at the selection. There are dumplings, pizza, even frozen cabbage rolls. Will you take some?” she asked, preparing plastic bags to pack the products.

“Yes, let's have a bit of everything. And put in some smoked sausage, and some bread with it,” I allowed, waving my hand.

“How are you? Haven't you married yet? I look at you and am blinded by your beauty! I bet half the city's men are pining for such a gorgeous red lioness,” she sang, smiling.

I was pleased by Sandra’s flattering words and decided to share with her what my life was like now, and who was on my mind:

“There are not much decent and free men, like they all have disappeared. I just date casually. My guy is coming on the weekend, so you should come over too. We'll have drinks together, remember stories from our youth and childhood."

“I'll come, since you're inviting. There's not much joy in our town so I don’t mind to have a party even if there is no real reason to celebrate,” she chuckled, counting my money for the groceries.

"That's true, we always knew how to find a reason to celebrate," I laughed, taking the groceries from her.

"No doubt. But you better tell me one thing. I knew Agatha sold her house, have you seen your neighbor yet? I've been waiting for her to appear, just to take a look, but she doesn't come for groceries. I wonder, what does she eat? Or is she crazy, chewing on grass?"

“Oh, that's a whole story. Come on the weekend, you'll see her. She's an artist. Bohemian, in a word. She has a pretty face, very pretty. I can't say anything bad about that. But her character is so-so. Too quiet and too polite.”

“Yeah, poor girl. Knowing your temper, you’re hard to please no matter what she does,” Sandra chuckled.

“Don't even go there! I am like an angel - spread goodness! It’s just I need to break her in a little… For her own benefit of course. And for more pleasant vacation of mine.”

“Okay, okay, I see. I'll come on Saturday and take a look at the artist. Just don't forget to let me know what time the party starts.”

“No worries, I definitely won’t forget for such a pleasant guest,” I said and, taking the bags, left the store.

Once I came home and put the food on shelves in the fridge, I went out to the garden to look at the weeded potatoes. I was almost sure that Jasmin wouldn’t disobey and will remove the weeds. And I wasn’t mistaken. The potatoes stood perfectly clean and Jasmin was nowhere to be seen. But the finished painting, without any white spots on the drawing, was showing off on the easel and attracted the eye with its riot of colors. “Looks like it’s drying,” I thought and came closer.

Looking closely at the canvas, I saw an attractive woman on it, and she reminded me of my neighbor Jasmin.

“Probably she painted from herself,” I thought, involuntarily admiring the elegance of the forms, which were carefully drawn by the artist.

"What if I have a little fun?" I decided in my head, and taking the painting from the easel in my hands, I ‘half-accidentally’ dropped it on the ground. Then, with my right foot, I lightly touched the girl's face in the painting. And, ‘unexpectedly’, my sandal left a trace.

"Oh, that didn't turn out well," I thought, a little embarrassed, and tried to fix the situation. I ran the same foot over the dirty sandal mark kind of trying to wipe it, and, unable to stay on my left foot, I accidentally stepped on the face in the painting again, but this time with my whole foot. Looking at the result, I realized I had ruined the drawing – beautiful girl’s face was covered by my shoe imprint.

“At least I tried to fix it and did all I could,” I thought, and leaving the masterpiece lying on the ground, I hurried home.

That same evening, there was a knock on my door.

“Kathy, can I come in?” Jasmin asked, entering the hallway.

“Of course, just take off your shoes. I just washed the floors,” I allowed her to get in to meet me.

“I really want to ask you, do you know who ruined my painting? I left it in the sun to dry today. I came back and it was ruined. Someone walked on it with dirty shoes,” asked the neighbor, wringing her hands, and it was obvious that she was embarrassed by the question.

“Jasmin, I accidentally stepped on it. I took it in my hands, such beauty, and it somehow slipped out of them! I was picking it up, stumbled… and stepped right on it,” I said and smiled conciliatorily.

“Really?? That’s too bad. The customer is coming today and I won't get any money from him,” she said crying.

It was obvious she was angry with me, but she couldn’t say anything else and lowered her eyes to the floor, as if she was guilty of something.

“Jasmin, I need to rest. I have guests coming soon and a lot of things to do, so I don’t have time for you. Go home,” I summed up our conversation and demonstratively lay down on the sofa. She had no choice but to walk out the door.

"What a wimp. I can wipe my feet on her and she'll put up with everything," I thought and smiled, not feeling guilty at all.

Chapter 4

In the morning, I jumped out of bed early and started getting ready to go to the store. Today is Saturday, which means my friends will come soon. I quickly put on a dress, ran out of the house and, looking around the garden, saw that Jasmin had completely put it in order. Smiling with satisfaction, I ran to buy groceries.

“Sandra, come to my place today. Around five p.m.,” I invited my childhood friend, stuffing groceries into bags.

“Will there be city guys? Or you’ve only invited locals?” she asked with a squint, hoping for a positive answer to her first question. She was a divorced girl and probably wanted to hear that there would be plenty of men and, of course, from the city. The towners had known about her quarrelsome nature for a long time, and were in no hurry to date her.

“Don’t worry, you'll have men. My lover will bring a couple of his friends. Come earlier and help with the meat. You know well how to handle it. Agreed?”

Sandra nodded and I ran towards the house with my weighty bags.

I spent the whole day in the kitchen - chopped salads, boiled potatoes, marinated meat, put whiskey in the fridge. I cleaned, put on makeup, prepared the gazebo. I was proud of myself and felt like the hostess of the ball.

By five, several cars pulled up to my gate. I was in a great mood and went out to meet them. And I knew I looked stunning - fiery red hair, styled in large curls, and a white summer dress with a deep neckline. In short, I was on top.

My bald lover, Mark, jumped out of the car and ran through all the bushes, straight to me. He kissed my hand and pinched my butt, whispering in my ear how much he missed me and really wanted us to get alone. I calmed his fervor with a slap of my palm on his bare skull.

“Mark, I'm having a party today, and I want to have fun, so you have to wait! Come on, better go cook some meat. Who else did you bring with you?” I asked, kissing him on the cheek.

“I took Ted, Steve and Derek,” my lover continued to look into my cleavage, caressing me, “and also your friend from the hairdresser's, Laura.”

“Okay, I can already see all of them. What did you tell your wife?” I asked, pushing him away from my body, to which he was stuck like chewing gum.

“I have a business trip for two days. Everything is as it should be, Honey. I am free, and ready to love you endlessly.”

“Two days is not infinity, Mark. Go and cook the meat. Sandra will come and help soon, I'll introduce you. She's my friend since childhood, she works as a saleswoman in a store.”

“You better introduce me to your Jasmin, bohemian artists are a novelty to me. I'd like to take a quick look. And town saleswomen, to be honest, not that interesting.”

“Okay, we'll sort it out. Actually, I didn't plan to invite this woman to my party, but if you really want to see her, it’s fine,” I summed up and went to meet the guests.

Once everyone had already taken their places in the gazebo, and Mark was finishing the first batch of barbeque, I finally relaxed. The fatigue was pleasant, I enjoyed the evening, and everything went like clockwork.

“Steve, pour!” Mark shouted, carrying wonderfully smelling pieces of roasted meat on skewers. Having placed them on a dish in the middle of the table, he took his glass and made a toast:

“To the hostess of this party! May her life be as pleasant as this evening, and as delicious as this meat!”

Everyone joyfully clinked glasses and drank cold whiskey.

The evening had begun. The girls and I, having had a nice dinner and already drunk a decent amount of alcohol, began to quietly discuss “sinful” matters.

“Oh, Kathy, you are so lucky. You are such a beauty and you have everything! A caring lover and great friends…” Sandra flattered me, sparkling her fairly drunk eyes.

She definitely enjoyed the company, showing signs of attention to Derek. She would adjust her skirt, which was already short, or ‘accidentally’ put her hand on his. In short, the party was on and popping.

“I second that! You arrange your life really well. And you are so great at work. The garden is so clean, flawless! Aunt Mary will be pleased when she arrives. And I see you've already picked the currants, well done,” Laura continued singing my praises.

“Of course! You know me, I like order in everything. Since I came to help my aunt, there's no point in being lazy,” I said, missing the moment when I could have told my friends it wasn't me who did all the work. They don't need to know that I "exploited" the artist. I decided that my proper management of the work process is valued far more than the work itself.

“Girls, come and drink to my Kathy, we're bored without you,” sang Mark, who was already pretty tipsy, sitting me on his lap. I hugged him and took my glass. Sandra looked at us and slowly moved to Derek. He, judging by his satisfied face, didn’t mind at all.

Laura moved away from the table a little, then looked closely at Steve and Ted. Having made her choice, she walked towards Steve with a swaying gait. He opened his arms and accepted my beautiful friend. Almost everyone was pleased.

“And me?” Ted said, looking offended. “Couldn't you find a girl for me?”

“Sorry, pal. They don't have anyone else. Or do they?” Mark asked, looking me in the eyes.

I stuck out my lower lip in displeasure and said, “I don’t have to look for a girl for you! As I can see, Ted, you are already a big boy. And if I remember correctly, you've been married for a long time.”

“Listen, why don't you invite your artist? It'll be fun for Ted and amusement for us,” Laura had found a solution and got up from Steve's lap.

“For some reason, I don't really want to invite her. She's quiet, and not very sociable. She might ruin the evening,” I said, not being happy with the suggestion.

“Kathy, really, let's invite her. We've never seen Bohemian residents. It's curious, and Ted won't be alone. Moreover, you have to be friends with your neighbors, otherwise they'll get offended, and they won't invite you to their party, if they have one,” said Mark and gently slapped me on the bottom, inviting me to get up from him and go get Jasmin at last.

“Okay, okay, you've convinced me,” I said and motioned for Laura to follow me. I didn't really want to go to the neighbor alone.

“Boys, pour us some. We'll be back soon,” said my bestie and, grabbing my hand, headed towards the second half of the house.

Having passed the bushes and the gate, we approached the front door. We knocked on it carefully and began to wait for the answer. When the door started opening, we unceremoniously burst into the house.

“Jasmin, Hi. We have a party today, celebrating... my vacation. Don't you want to join?” I said, hugging her.

“I’m Laura, a friend of your neighbor and we have a lot of fun there! And there is one boy who is particularly interested in meeting you. Will you come?” my friend said, holding out her hand and shaking Jasmin's palm a little.

My neighbor, seemingly startled, shook Laura's hand and stepped back, blushing deeply. Then she opened her beautiful eyes and said, “Hello! Nice to meet you. Thanks for inviting me, but I won't join. I need to finish making a currant jam. And I'm tired today, I got sunburned when I was weeding vegetables.”

“What are you talking about? You are so young and beautiful! Why should you sit at home when you are invited to a party? You can eat barbeque, drink whiskey and have fun. We have great company there and want to be friends,” Laura said smiling, pulling Jasmin by the hand out of the corner where she had cowered.

“We only wish you the best. You worked so hard all day - whatever I say, you do it, neighbor, so you’ve earned the rest. And don't you respect us, after all? We came with good intentions, as friends,” I began to persuade her.

It was hilarious to see how she was afraid of me and tried to not obey. A wave of pleasure washed over me and I could hardly contain my laughter.

“Girls, maybe we should sit at my place? Have some tea, talk. I'll treat you to some currant jam. Let's do it?” Jasmin tried to avoid joining party one more time, but Laura and I simultaneously shook our heads in denial and said in two voices at the same time:

“Let's go!”

Jasmin meekly sighed, turned off the gas on the stove under a huge bowl of currant brew and said, “Okay then, if you want to see me, I'll drop in for a few minutes. I just need to change, okay?”

“Sure, we are waiting for you in the gazebo,” I said, and we left the house.

“A pretty girl, so slender. But somehow too complicated, not my type of person. Probably we won't be friends,” said Laura, taking my arm.

“She's not my type either. I couldn't find a common language with her. She is like some kind of imbecile,” I summed up, laughing out loud.

Coming to the gazebo, I sat on Mark's lap and took a shot glass, which was filled with whiskey to the brim.

“Boys and girls! Let's drink to me,” I said and, clinking glasses with everyone, I poured the bitter into my mouth.

Another fifteen minutes or so passed, and my neighbor appeared on the path. She was dressed up, of course. A beautiful gray dress hugged her attractive body and shimmered in the light of the outdoor lanterns with a steely shine. And the complicated hairstyle she had made suited her very well. I noticed these facts and felt funny and excited.

“Let them look at her like she’s a monkey in a zoo,” I thought, smiling, looking into the face of my lover, who was studying Jasmin with his eyes.

Ted, for whose sake we had called the neighbor, immediately began to court her. He offered her a glass and put meat on her plate. She blushed deeply, nodded her head in gratitude, in her usual manner, and smiled all the time.

After an hour of chatting and dancing, we decided to play "Truth or Dare." This game was popular among my friends and we knew a lot about each other. In anticipation of tricky questions and indecent actions, I got fairly excited. The girls broke the matches and got ready to pull them out to find out who would be the first to lead. Jasmin, seeing our actions, wanted to quietly leave, but guys persuaded her to stay. I sighed in disappointment.

"Why can't they have enough with this quiet girl? But okay, soon she’ll regret she hasn’t left in time. I’m going to "roast" her well," I thought and pulled out my match. It turned out to be long.

“So, I'm first,” said Mark, holding out a short stick for everyone to see. Everyone excitedly applauded.

“A question for Kathy. Truth or dare?” he asked, pinching my butt.

“Truth,” I said, squinting my eyes mischievously.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said affirmatively and turned my head towards Jasmin.

“Now brace yourself, beauty,” I thought and asked her the question:

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she said and blushed again like a purple tomato.

The entire hour that she spent with us, she ate nothing and drank nothing. She did not respond much to Ted's advances and kept trying to leave. To be honest, all my female friends and I were already dying to get rid of her, because at a party the main thing is for everyone to have fun. And a guest who doesn't drink is a real party pooper, what's a point of having her.

“Drink a big glass of whiskey,” I said, and everyone laughed, praising me for a great idea.

Jasmin shrank, nodded her head slightly and took the glass that Laura extended to her. Exhaling deeply, she began to drink the whiskey in small sips. It flowed onto her chin, you could see how she was choking on the bitter tincture, but we must give her credit - she drank it all and showed us she had completed the task by turning the glass upside down. It was empty.

“Excellent. Now you are the host,” said Mark, and prepared to listen. Jasmin, a little embarrassed, turned to Laura.

“Truth or dare?” she asked my friend, stuttering.

“Action,” she said and winked at me. I prepared to be surprised.

“Please heat the sauna, Laura,” she asked, and everyone unanimously approved her choice.

Laura, with a staggering gait, headed towards the sauna.

“I’ll go help her, she’s a lady after all,” said Steve, and followed my friend.

“I bet it’s for long, so it looks like we've played,” said Mark, and began pouring whiskey into glasses. We sat down to wait for our friends. About half an hour later, the happy couple returned to their place, and we continued the game.

Of course, it was funny and everyone laughed heartily. We came up with all sorts of things to tease each other. Sometimes we crowed, sometimes we slapped each other on the bottom, and sometimes we asked such questions that the devils in hell were ashamed of us. But it was total fun, and I got great pleasure from what was happening.

“Truth or dare?” I asked Jasmin once again, turning to her.

“Dare,” said my neighbor, and finished chewing the piece of meat that Ted was holding for her on a fork.

“What should I do to her?” I thought, and the solution flashed out on its own.

“Give me a piggyback ride. I want to play 'pony,'” I said, and again, everyone unanimously approved my idea.

Jasmin, noticeably soured, stood up from her seat. She adjusted her dress, carefully approached me, and got down on all fours. I experienced inhuman pleasure, sitting down on her back and feeling how she started struggling under my weight.

Everyone laughed, hooted, and encouraged Jasmin. And she, on trembling hands, step by step, slowly moved forward. At some point, in order not to play along with her, I lifted my legs and all my weight pushed on her back. Jasmin’s hands gave up almost immediately, and she fell face-first right into the ground. The next moment I slid my butt down her back and stopped right on her head, effectively crushing her face into the dirt.

“Bad horse, completely dead,” I shouted to the crowd of friends, sitting with all my weight on the back of her head.

After several seconds, without a bit of hurry, I slowly got up from my poor neighbor. Jasmin was lying on the grass and couldn’t even get up on all fours. Seeing that I couldn’t resist, and put one of my feet on her upper back. The artist immediately tried to resist and overthrow my glorious foot from her miserable back, which spurred me even more. The second later I was standing on her back with both my feet. It happened too quickly, and for the crowd, it looked like we had some funny fight. After I trampled her back a little, trying to keep balance, I sensed it might be too much, so I had to show some mercy. I got off her and even helped her to lift her fragile body from the ground.

“Give my horse some oats and pour some water,” I laughed, approaching my friends.

“The Great Empress Catherine is kind to her pony!” shouted drunk Mark, pouring Jasmin another full glass of whiskey. I agreed with him with a nod.

"You're right, I'm kind," I thought, looking with satisfaction at the poor artist, who was walking back at us with a staggering gait.