Converted, Part 2

    This story contains adult language and themes. If such language and themes
offend you, please do not read further. Copyright 1997 by SSTORYMAN. All
rights reserved. Permission is granted to reproduce this story in any form and
for any purpose as long as this notice is reproduced and no financial
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it.

    CONVERTED

    2. Starting Over Again.

    "How did you feel about the meeting last Wednesday?"

    Dawn looked at Cathy. The weekly session was almost over. Her attractive
brunette counselor had supreme patience. Her ubiquitous notepad was on her
lap. The pencil moved on the pad as Dawn spoke.

    "Okay," Dawn answered. She wanted to sound nonchalant. She had her
reasons, but didn't want to discuss them with Cathy. Cathy said nothing,
waiting for Dawn to continue.

    "To tell the truth, I was surprised. I had a good time," Dawn went on.
"I'm going back again tonight."

    Dawn guessed this pleased her counselor. She knew Cathy wanted to get her
out of her shell. Dawn felt she'd made progress this week.

    But what did Cathy think? As usual, Cathy said little. She let Dawn do
most of the talking. Her silence forced Dawn to continue.

    "The meeting was good. I enjoyed it. I liked the people. For once, I
honestly didn't think about Jim. When I got home I went into the bathroom and
looked at myself in the mirror. I decided I look better with a little more
weight. I was too skinny before. I've been thinking about how I feel about
myself. Not just thinking about Jim. I guess that's good, isn't it?"

    Cathy smiled. She tapped her pencil on the desk. "Yes, it is," she finally
replied quietly . "So, what I hear you saying it, you're beginning to actively
evaluate the present, and you're not thinking so much about the past. Is that
right?"

    Dawn sighed. "I still think about Jim," she admitted. "But not as much. I
still dream about him, though. Every night." She paused. "Every single night,"
she repeated.

    "What happens in the dreams?" Cathy asked.

    "I'm not sure," Dawn replied. "It's like I can't remember. I mean, I know
Jim is in them. But when I wake up, I can't remember what they're about.
There's one dream in particular. It's a new one. I had it several times this
week. I know it takes place in the bedroom of our ... I mean, _my_ apartment.
But I can't remember what it's about." Dawn frowned. "Do you think that's
weird? Maybe it's significant."

    "It might be," Cathy smiled. "Dreams provide a window into your soul. But
don't worry. If it's important, you'll remember the dream eventually. If and
when that happens, we'll figure out whether it means anything."

    Cathy changed the subject. "Tell me about the people you met at the
meeting last week."

    Dawn smiled. "They're really nice. I had coffee with 'em after the
meeting. One of them, Kitty, was so sympathetic. She encouraged me to call her
to talk about Jim's ... accident"

    "You mean Jim's death?" Cathy asked bluntly.

    Dawn looked at the floor. "Yes," she answered quietly. "His death." Dawn
didn't like to use the D-word.

    "Did you call her?" Cathy continued.

    "No," she admitted. "I didn't want to bother her." Cathy again said
nothing in response, waiting for Dawn to go on.

    Dawn nervously brushed her hair away from her face. It wasn't just that
she didn't want to bother Kitty. Actually, there was another reason she hadn't
called. It had to do with smoking. The more she thought about it during the
week, the more Dawn found herself strangely attracted to it. Kitty's love for
smoking seemed oddly contagious. Dawn feared she was becoming fixated on the
subject. The last several days she'd imagined herself smoking. Smoking with
Kitty. And enjoying it.

    Of course, she wasn't ready to admit any of this to Cathy. After some
soul-searching, this morning she'd finally decided what she was going to do.
She felt guilty about it. But she wasn't ready to discuss that with her
counselor, either.

    "You didn't want to bother her?" Cathy repeated with a frown.

    Dawn could tell that Cathy wanted her to make the call. To get her out of
her shell. Dawn knew what Cathy was thinking. But Dawn also knew that Cathy
didn't suspect the real reason she'd been more than a little afraid to call
Kitty.

    "Okay, I'll call her this week," Dawn equivocated. "Anyway, I'll see her
tonight. At the meeting. She goes every week. Maybe we'll go out for coffee."

    "Do you want to get together with her?" Cathy asked slowly.

    Dawn thought for a moment. "Yes. I do want to. Kitty's very interesting.
The only thing that scared me a little bit at first was ...." She didn't
finish, but she knew she'd opened the door. Crap! She hadn't wanted to get
into this!

    "Yes?" Cathy asked pointedly. "What?"

    "Nothing," Dawn replied. "It's nothing."

    "Dawn," Cathy began. "Something's bothering you. What is it? You can tell
me."

    "Kitty smokes," Dawn replied. She virtually spit out the words. "They all
do. Kitty, Sarah, Cindy and Joe. They go out for coffee after the meeting
every week. And they smoke."

    "I see. Does that bother you?"

    Dawn fidgeted. "No. That's the problem," she sighed. "It doesn't."

    Although reluctant to talk about it, Dawn could see there was no hiding
now. "I smoked in high school," she admitted. "Shortly after I started, my
mother found out and made me quit. I haven't smoked in eight years. And I
never really thought about it until ...."

    "Until you saw your new friends smoking?" Cathy finished. "You wanted to
join them. Is that it?"

    "Yeah, that's right," Dawn acknowledged. "I do. But I'm afraid."

    "Because smoking is bad for you. Is that what you're afraid of?"

    "No, that's not it at all. It's because .... I'm just afraid, that's all."
She sighed. "Because Jim wouldn't approve of me ...." She left her sentence
unfinished. The unspoken word hung in the air: Smoking.

    "Dawn, Jim is not part of your life anymore. He's gone."

    Dawn winced at Cathy's words.

    "I know that hurts," Cathy continued. "But it's true. Don't make decisions
based on what Jim would say. This odd fascination with smoking is a perfect
example. Look, you shouldn't start smoking again. It's a nasty habit. Be glad
you quit when you did. The longer you smoke, the harder it is to stop. You
become addicted to the physiological effects of nicotine in your system and
you don't want to give them up." She smiled. "But the important thing is, you
mustn't make decisions based on what Jim would think. Whatever you do, do it
because it's best for you. Best for your life now. Best for your future."
Cathy looked into Dawn's eyes. "Can you spend time with these people and
resist the temptation? To smoke, I mean?"

    "Oh, yeah, sure," Dawn answered confidently. It wasn't true, but Cathy
didn't know. Or did she?

    Whether or not she knew, Cathy continued. "Are you afraid Jim would
disapprove of your new friends because they smoke?"

    Dawn shook her head vigorously. "Oh no, Jim never disapproved of people
for stuff like that. He never criticized or excluded anyone. His motto was
live and let live." She paused. "No, these people are nice. Especially Kitty.
Jim wouldn't mind them. Anyway, they all knew Jim when he was ... alive."

    Her counselor tapped her pencil on her notepad. "Dawn, your new friends
obviously accept you as a non-smoker. You don't have to smoke with them. So
don't. Make the right decision. You know what's right. Anyway, you'll
eventually meet others in the fellowship group, others with whom you'll have
... more in common, shall we say?" Cathy offered a patronizing smile. "But
tell me; is smoking the real problem? Or are you really just afraid of making
new friends?"

    "I ... I don't know," Dawn confessed. "I don't think I'm afraid of making
friends. No, watching them smoke was what affected me. I don't know why. But I
thought about it all week."

    Once again Cathy said nothing. Dawn took a deep breath.

    "Okay, I admit it. I wanted to smoke with them. It seemed so attractive,
so relaxing, so ... I don't know, so fun!"

    Dawn looked at the floor. She went on. "Okay, don't say anything. I know
it's stupid. No one smokes anymore. It's not cool. I know that. And you're
right, I'll meet others in the group who don't smoke, so I won't be tempted."
She looked up. "I'll introduce myself to some other people tonight," she said
firmly.

    Cathy looked strangely amused, as if she knew Dawn was not telling the
whole truth.

    "You're in charge of your life, Dawn," she said quietly. "No one else
controls you. Not Jim. Not your friend Kitty. Not even me. Make your own
decisions. I'm simply encouraging you to make right ones. But whatever
decisions you make, I'll support you." She looked at the clock and smiled.
"Time's up. I'll see you next Wednesday! Good job."

    Dawn and Cathy both stood. Dawn reached for her coat.

    "This was a good discussion," Cathy added as they walked toward the office
door. "You're making progress; you're thinking in relation to others, not just
about Jim. I almost hate to say this, but he'd be proud of you! I know I am!"

    After they finished, Dawn started her drive home. She decided she'd have
just enough time for a quick supper at the apartment before leaving for the
meeting at the church.

    Why had she lied to Cathy? In fact, she desperately wanted to smoke. It
was stupid. She knew that. But she also knew she was going to do it. The
thought of smoking cigarettes again was enticing. It also scared her a little
bit. It made her feel guilty. But she wanted to anyway.

    She'd be an idiot to start again. Smoking is not good for your health.
Everyone knew that. Perhaps more important, she knew Jim wouldn't have
approved. By itself, that stopped her from seriously considering it for
awhile. She'd felt if she started smoking it would betray Jim's memory.
However, over the course of the last week her interest in starting again
slowly overtook her sense of betrayal. Inadvertently, Cathy's comment
increased that resolve. Cathy was right. She could no longer base decisions on
what Jim would think. And she knew that meant she was going to smoke tonight.

    As she turned onto her street, Dawn acknowledged the apprehension she
still felt. She imagined herself like a moth flying into the flame. God, what
is the attraction of smoking after all these years? Why does it seem so
appealing? She thought about the smell of tobacco, the memory of inhaling
smoke deep into her lungs. She smiled. She used to enjoy that.

    She furiously shook her head. This is crazy, she scolded herself. No. I'm
not going to do it. I'm not going to smoke again. It would be so dumb! What am
I thinking?

    Suddenly, in the midst of her angst, she thought she remembered the dream.
It was the same one with Jim in it that she'd mentioned to Cathy. Sometimes a
completely forgotten dream returns to consciousness, unannounced and
unexpected. In this manner the dream about Jim she'd been trying to remember
hit her. The recollection almost caused Dawn to drive her car onto the front
lawn.

    In the dream she'd been in the apartment. It was night. Everything was
hazy, like being in a mist. It was odd. She looked into the bedroom. There was
Jim, sitting on the bed, working on his computer. He looked up and smiled. The
old, familiar smile. How she loved that smile! She missed him!

    Dawn tried running to him in the dream. But she couldn't move. It was as
if her legs was stuck in molasses. The harder she tried to run, the more
frustrated she became.

    She tried to speak. Her lips moved, but no words came out. Jim turned back
to the computer. He was typing. Somehow, she knew it was important! How did
she know? She wasn't sure. But more significantly, she couldn't get close
enough to see what he was doing!

    With great effort, she tried to move forward to see the computer screen.
As she approached the bedroom door, Jim suddenly disappeared. Where had he
gone? Dawn looked around. Things looked the same, yet different. What had
happened to Jim? Only his laptop computer was left behind, sitting on the bed.

    That was when she woke up.

    Sitting in the car, she was breathing deeply now, hyperventilating in the
driver's seat. What on earth made me remember that dream? she asked herself.
What did it mean? Did it mean anything? She didn't know. Shaking, she stumbled
into her apartment. She walked to the kitchen and got luncheon meat and cheese
from the refrigerator. She knew she'd feel better if she ate.

    She decided to toast the bread before making a sandwich. While she waited,
she noticed her hand was quivering. Because of the dream! It scared her. Is it
a sign? she wondered. It is a sign that Jim disapproves of what I'm going to
do? A sign that I'm not supposed to smoke?

    The toaster clicked. The bread was ready. She took another deep breath.
Well, if that's what the dream means, she rationalized, it certainly isn't
obvious. In the dream Jim was smiling at her. What did that mean?

    Maybe it meant nothing. Cathy said dreams were often a window into the
soul. But Dawn wasn't sure the meaning was clear. Maybe there was no meaning.
She sat down at the kitchen table to finish her preparations.

    Despite her attempt to brush off the dream's significance, her hand
continued shaking as she spread mayonnaise on the toast and stacked a piece of
meat and a piece of cheese on the toasted bread. She knew why. She felt guilty
for thinking about smoking!

    She shook her head. "Damn!" she said aloud. "That's nothing but my stupid
Roman Catholic upbringing! I haven't even done anything yet. How can I be
guilty?"

    Maybe it's something else, she mused. Maybe it's just my heart reminding
me that Jim wouldn't want me to start smoking. She laughed at the thought that
the dream was a message from Jim. No, she shook her head again. If Jim wants
to stop me from smoking, she chuckled, he'll have to do better than that.

    Dawn finally took a bite of her sandwich. Despite herself, she smiled. She
realized what she was doing. She was trying to find reasons to stay the course
she'd chosen. Right or wrong, stupid or smart, she did want to try smoking
again.

    She smiled. It seemed so alluring, so ... so fun. I'll think more about
the dream later, she decided. In the meantime, who am I kidding? I am going to
do it. I'm going to smoke tonight. Dawn thought about how she'd like to put a
cigarette in her mouth. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly,
mimicking the inhale and exhale after lighting a cigarette. She smiled a big
smile. After all these years ....

   
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    People milled around, talking and laughing. The meeting had ended, and
people were making a bee-line to the coffee and cookies in the back of the
room. Dawn saw Kitty.

    "Hi, Dawn," Kitty smiled. "Good meeting tonight, don't you think?"

    Dawn grinned in return. Kitty was dressed in a silk burgundy blouse and
black stretch pants. Her tall, slender, supple body filled the outfit nicely.
The long, black hair hanging to her waist completed the elegant picture. As
always, Kitty was stunning. But tonight she seemed tired. Or stressed.
Something was different. Dawn guessed something was wrong.

    "Yes, it was a nice meeting," Dawn quickly agreed. "I especially liked the
message tonight, about hope. That's something I need more of."

    "We all need hope," Kitty agreed. "Where there's no hope, people perish. I
think there's a Bible verse somewhere that says so." She blushed. "I'm no good
at remembering that stuff," she admitted. "But it was a good message." She
motioned to the table in back. "Want coffee?"

    "Sure," Dawn replied. "I'd love some." They walked to the table. Several
others were already gathered there.

    Kitty got some coffee. She drank it black. Kitty next grabbed some
cookies, balancing her Styrofoam coffee cup on her plate. But she made no
attempt to escape the room for her typical, quick, after-meeting cigarette.

    This surprised Dawn because she knew Kitty's usual modus operandi. But it
also disappointed her. Because tonight she'd wanted to go out with her. She'd
planned to ask Kitty for a cigarette. To smoke with her.

    She thought about it, and decided to drop a subtle hint. "Kitty," she
began. "Don't you usually go out for a cigarette after the meeting? That's
what Cindy said last week. So what's up? You didn't quit, did you?"

    Dawn had been kidding but, surprisingly, a look of sadness slowly
enveloped Kitty's face. "Actually, yes," she whispered. "I did." She looked
dejected.

    "What?!" exclaimed Dawn. "When? And why?"

    Kitty set her coffee cup on the table, and then nervously picked it up
again. She nervously motioned Dawn to a corner of the room where they could
talk, away from the others.

    After escaping the crowd, Kitty took a deep breath. "I decided to do it
after thinking about the meeting last Wednesday night. Because of something
you said, Dawn. Let's face it. I'm a bad example. I smoked like a chimney
after the meeting last week. I smoke too damn much. Excuse my language. But I
do. I know it. So I decided to stop." She smiled bravely. "I finally quit
Monday morning. I haven't had a cigarette since Sunday night."

    Dawn smiled, too, but weakly. She was secretly disappointed. She'd been
looking forward to bumming a cigarette from Kitty after the meeting. This was
going to be the big night.

    "Oh," Dawn replied. She didn't know what to say. "Well, congratulations,"
she added. The disappointment in her voice was obvious, but Kitty didn't seem
to notice. She said nothing, looking blankly into space.

    "So, how's it going?" Dawn added politely. It was lame, but she had to say
something.

    Kitty took a long sip of coffee. "Do you want the politically correct
answer or the honest answer? Well, the politically correct answer is that I'm
doing just fine. Best decision I ever made. I'm so glad I quit." She was
smiling, but her tone of voice provided a hint of sarcasm.

    After a brief pause, she went on. "But that's pure bullshit, Dawn. The
real answer? It's the hardest damn thing I've ever done! I'm fuckin'
miserable." Kitty blushed. "Pardon my language. But I've been so irritable
since I quit. I've been swearing constantly. I'm sorry. It's because I'm so
tense. I'm wound up really tight from trying to quit. But that's no excuse. I
shouldn't talk like that. Especially in church!"

    She felt guilty for feeling this way, but Dawn felt desperate. She didn't
want Kitty to quit. Not now. Especially not tonight. Suddenly, a light-bulb
went on in Dawn's brain. Maybe there was still a chance she could "help" Kitty
change her mind.

    "Kitty, are you going to go out with Joe, Sarah and Cindy after the
meeting? Like last week? You know. For coffee?"

    Kitty shook her head. "No. If I went to the Espresso Cafe with everyone
smoking, I'd be a goner. I'd backslide in a heartbeat! I wouldn't last five
minutes! I told Cindy I couldn't come tonight. She understands. I can't handle
it. I need to avoid smoking situations for now."

    Dawn looked closely at her new friend. Kitty appeared tense and edgy. Her
countenance was pasty. She looked tired; there were circles under her eyes.
Her optimistic effervescence, so contagious last week, had been replaced by a
deep sadness. In short, Kitty looked exhausted.

    "Well, what does your husband think of this?" Dawn asked, carefully
probing for an opening by which she might gently encourage Kitty to reconsider
her decision.

    "Bob thinks I'm crazy," Kitty sighed. "He says he doesn't want to quit. He
wished me luck, but he wouldn't even consider trying to quit with me. He says
he enjoys smoking too much. God! Like I don't." She looked at the floor. "He's
traveling on business this week. I won't see him 'til Friday." Another sip of
coffee caused a brief pause. "I thought the hardest part would be over by
then," she went on. "I figured I'd be over the hump by Friday night, able to
handle him smoking in the house. But now I'm not sure." She looked up,
desperation emblazoned on her face. "Dawn, I have to tell you; I'd give
anything for a cigarette right now! I know that's terrible, but it's the
truth!"

    Dawn pondered the strange situation. Kitty's trying to quit, and I want to
start. How funny! Dawn wondered whether she should admit her plan to start
smoking again?

    She looked around. The crowd was dissipating. Joe, Cindy and Sarah were
gone, presumably to the coffee shop where they could smoke. Dawn pondered what
to say. With a smile, she decided. This might be an ironically evil thing to
say in a church. But she decided to go for it anyway.

    "Kitty," she began. "I've got to tell you something. But you may want to
get a refill first. This may take awhile."

    They walked over to get more coffee, then returned to their corner. Only a
few people were left in the room. Dawn made sure none of them could hear the
conversation which was about to take place. Kitty still looked tense. She
nervously sipped her coffee as Dawn began.

    "I've been through a rough time, Kitty. After Jim died, I wallowed in
self-pity. I cried. My counselor said I needed to start over. But I couldn't.
Until I came to last week's meeting. I turned the corner that night. You were
a big part of that, Kitty."

    "Me?" Kitty asked. "What did I do?"

    "You may not like the answer. But it's the truth, so I'm going to tell
you." Now it was Dawn's turn to take a deep breath. She pulled her hair back,
and went on. "You remember how I told you I used to smoke when I was a
teenager?"

    Kitty nodded. She remembered.

    "Well, being at the Espresso Cafe was like being in a time warp. I'd
forgotten how much fun smoking could be. I listened to you talk about it. I
watched you smoke. You organize your whole lives around smoking, all of you.
Your best friends are smokers. If you go out for coffee, it has to be a place
where you can smoke. Every week you run outside as soon as the meeting's over
for a quick cigarette, because you can't wait to have one. Smoking affects
your whole life, everything you do or don't do. Isn't that right?"

    Kitty blushed, frowned and then shook her head. She waited for
condemnation, which she was sure would follow.

    But Dawn surprised her. "That's not bad, Kitty," Dawn added. "You have
passion. You enjoy smoking. No, that's not a strong enough work. You _love_
smoking. I'd forgotten how to love anything, except my own self-pity. I was
jealous of your passion. Jealous of the fun you were having. The fun I used to
have, too. When I used to smoke."

    Kitty was dumbfounded, but Dawn continued. "My parents made me quit when I
was seventeen. I didn't want to. They made me do it, the bastards! The more I
thought about it, the angrier I got. But then I realized I wasn't thinking
about Jim. For the first time in a long time, I was thinking about myself,
about my life, about what _I_ wanted. The strange thing was, I was thinking
about how I wanted to smoke again."

    Kitty was shocked. She stuttered, but was unable to speak.

    "Don't you see? For the first time since Jim died, I was thinking about
what I wanted. About me. About something that had nothing to do with Jim. He
didn't smoke. As far as I know, he never smoked a cigarette in his life. For
me to think about smoking again was a big break. I was reconnecting with my
past, something long before Jim. Something I liked, and something I now want
again."

    Kitty was visibly upset. "I was right," she muttered. "I was a bad
influence on you."

    "No, you weren't," Dawn objected. "You were just yourself. Smoking is part
of who you are, Kitty. You can quit smoking if you want. But I'm going to
start again." Dawn was surprised at how definitive she sounded. She sounded
more confident than she felt. In reality, she was terrified. But she didn't
want Kitty to sense her nervousness.

    "Don't quit smoking because of me, Kitty," she pleaded. "That would be a
waste."

    Kitty remained speechless. Dawn smiled. She knew now was the time. Time to
spring. "Instead, Kitty, I'd like you to do something for me. I'd be honored
if you'd help me start smoking again. Right now. If you'd join me while I have
my first cigarette after eight years of abstinence. Eight long years!"

    Kitty looked surprised and shocked. Still she said nothing.

    Dawn decided to go on. Her voice was firm, her resolution growing the more
she talked. "We could become good friends, Kitty. I'm not trying to influence
you. You need to do what you believe is right. But I'll tell you what I'm
going to do. After the meeting I'm going to go buy myself some cigarettes. And
for the first time in eight years, I'm going to smoke, and I'm going to enjoy
it."

    Dawn felt completely in control. "I know, I know," she added. "Smoking is
stupid. It's bad for me. I've heard the lectures. But I don't care. I'm going
to do it. Because it's my life, and I'm going to enjoy it. Jim is gone. He's
not coming back. So I'm going on without him." She looked at Kitty. "So. What
do you say? I'm going to smoke. Are you with me?"

    Obviously still rattled, Kitty tried to speak. "I don't know what to say,
Dawn. God, maybe you're right. Maybe I am now, and always will be, a smoker.
All I know is, I've tried _so_ hard to quit this time. But I don't know if I
can. No matter how hard I try, all I think about is lighting a cigarette.
Every minute of every day. It's all I want. It's so stupid," she said with
disgust.

    Dawn smiled again. "You know what, Kitty? That's how I felt, too. About
Jim, I mean. It was stupid, all right. For weeks all I thought about was
wanting him back. But that's the difference between your situation and mine.
Jim is gone. He can't come back. But you can still smoke your cigarettes. You
can have them as long as you want them, as often as you want them." Dawn
flashed a mischievous grin. "You could have one right now. Kitty, what do you
say we go grab a smoke? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

    Kitty shook her head. "Dawn, you are terrible! You make smoking sound like
some noble virtue!" Reluctantly, she flashed a weak grin. "Like I'm a saint or
something, just because I smoke. I don't know about that. But you're right
about one thing. I do want a cigarette! Really bad!" She put her coffee cup on
the table and stood. "Okay, Dawn. Let's go. I admit it. I give up. I can't
quit." Immediately the brightness returned to Kitty's countenance.

    "Great!" Dawn exclaimed. "I'm so excited! Kitty, I've been looking forward
to smoking with you all week! I'm serious. I hope you're not mad at me. But
I'd be honored if you'll help me start again!"

    Kitty rolled her eyes, but there was a spark in them once more. "I don't
know about all this 'honor' stuff. But no, I'm not mad. Relieved is more like
it. Look, there's a little convenience store next to the Espresso Cafe. We can
buy cigarettes there and join the others next door." She laughed and pulled
her long, black hair over her shoulders. "You know, it's funny. I feel better
already, just knowing I'm going to get to smoke. God, the strain of not
smoking has really taken its toll over the last few days!"

    Suddenly, Kitty paused. "Dawn, you're sure you know what you're doing? By
smoking again, I mean? You may not be able to quit next time. What if you
decide this was a mistake?"

    "It's no mistake. I'm starting over, Kitty. Starting over, again," Dawn
grinned as they walked toward the stairs. "Who knows? Maybe after this
build-up, I won't even like smoking anymore. It's been eight years, you know."

    Kitty grabbed her jacket from the coat rack and threw it over her
shoulders, smiling as they left the building. "Don't worry, Dawn. You'll like
it, all right. Believe me, that will _not_ be the problem. Smoking is easy to
like. God, it's too easy! I don't know a single smoker who doesn't love it."
She winked. "The problem is that pretty soon you like it too much! But I don't
think that scares you. You're looking forward that, aren't you?"

    Dawn nodded. Kitty gave her a hug. "Thanks, Dawn," she smiled. "Thanks for
talking to me. I owe you. See you there!"

   
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    The two girls walked into the Espresso Cafe. They looked around. No sign
of Joe, Cindy or Sarah. "That's odd," Kitty frowned. "We come here every week.
Where are they?"

    "I don't know," Dawn admitted. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light.
"Maybe they skipped it since they thought you weren't coming. Because you're
their inspiration, Kitty," she kidded.

    Kitty was already getting a cappuccino. "I hope that's not true. It would
make me feel even guiltier. I feel guilty enough about what we're going to
do."

    Dawn sat down with her own cup of coffee. She got decaf for herself. She
figured the nicotine she'd be consuming in a few moments would provide all the
stimulation her system needed. "Do you really feel guilty, Kitty?" she asked.

    Kitty smiled. From her purse she retrieved a newly purchased gold pack of
Marlboro 100's. "No," she giggled. "That's the crazy thing. I don't feel
guilty. I'm excited. Is that bad? I hope not!" She tore the cellophane from
her cigarettes. "Because I'm really ready for this!"

    Kitty tapped the pack against the back of her hand. "I love smoking with
my friends," she chuckled. "Even if the rest of them aren't here, it'll be fun
smoking with you, Dawn."

    Kitty started to place a cigarette between her lips. Then she stopped.
"Oh, baby, I've missed you so," she whispered to the cylinder between her
fingers. She winked at Dawn, put the cigarette in her mouth, and got her
lighter ready. "God, it's been three hellishly long, lonely days. But that's
all over now, isn't it, darlin'? Because we're back together again!" She
touched the lighter to the tip of the cigarette hanging from her mouth. As
soon as the tobacco began burning, Kitty pumped hard. "Mmmm," she moaned.
Once, twice, three times in succession, each time inhaling smoke. "Oh, God,"
she exclaimed, holding all the smoke deep in her lungs. "That is _so_ good!"

    Dawn had a pack of Marlboro Light 100's which she'd just purchased. She
put it on the table and watched Kitty with amusement. Then she looked at the
gold and white pack. They belonged to her. Kitty had suggested Dawn buy lights
because they'd be easier to start with. "I like 'em stronger," Kitty had
admitted in the store. "But since you haven't smoked in awhile, you'll
probably adjust better with a milder smoke."

    That made sense. As a teenager Dawn and her friends smoked any brand they
could get. But she remembered liking Marlboro Lights. She'd never smoked
100's, but Kitty bought hers in the longer length, so now Dawn did, too.

    After holding all the smoke as long as she could, Kitty finally exhaled a
slow stream of smoke into the air. It seemed endless in duration. "Ahh," she
sighed. "This is great!" Kitty's complexion now looked brighter. Even in the
dim light of the coffee shop, she no longer looked pasty and washed out. And
there was no mistaking the return of Kitty's smile.

    "So, Dawn, are you ready?" Kitty finally asked. "You're not going to make
me smoke alone, are you?"

    Dawn pulled the wrapper from her Marlboro Light 100's. "No, of course
not," she smiled. She was nervous, but was determined not to let it show.

    "You seem uptight," Kitty went on. "Relax. You've done this before. Don't
think about it. Just do it. Light up a cigarette and smoke. It comes back."
She stopped to take another drag of her own. "Believe me," she added as she
inhaled again. "It comes back!"

    Kitty purposely allowed the smoke to escape from her nostrils in slow,
twin streams. Her jet-black hair, her dark skin and her European features were
wreathed in smoke which circled her head. The light of the table lamp made the
smoke appear to dance around Kitty's smiling face.

    "Okay," Dawn said as she let out a deep breath. She mimicked Kitty's
ritual of putting the cigarette between her lips before picking up the
lighter. "Don't think about, just do it," she muttered as she clicked the
lighter and raised the flame up to the cigarette.

    The taste of the smoke was a surprise. At first it seemed bitter, more
than she remembered. She blew the smoke from her mouth without inhaling and
removed the cigarette, carefully placing it between her first and second
fingers.

    "You can do better than that, Dawn," Kitty chided. "I'll bet you didn't
smoke that wimpy way when you were a kid. Let's see you inhale some smoke."

    "It takes getting used to," Dawn whispered. Her mouth seemed dry. She took
a sip of coffee. She looked at the cigarette between her fingers. It was long
and white. Smoke curled from the end into the air. Kitty was right. She needed
to try it again.

    While Kitty watched, Dawn returned the burning cigarette to her lips and
took a second hit. She purposely made this one longer and harder than her
first. As soon as she finished it, she removed the cigarette, opened her mouth
and pulled the smoke into her lungs.

    A strange tightness, almost a burning sensation, hit Dawn's chest as
cigarette smoke filled her lungs for the first time in years. Surprisingly,
however, she felt no urge to cough. But she began feeling a buzz in her head.
It didn't feel bad exactly. Actually, it felt kind of ... good. In a few
seconds she pursed her lips and exhaled. The smoke escaped in a tight stream.

    "Good looking exhale," Kitty noted approvingly. "Especially for someone
who's out of practice. How do you feel?"

    Dawn smiled and nervously tapped some ashes into the ashtray. "Okay," she
began slowly. "Kind of light headed. But good, I think. No, better than that.
Really good," she added firmly. Again she looked thoughtfully at the cigarette
she held between her fingers. "I still like smoking," she concluded. She knew
that her confident statement was still part show, designed to convince herself
that she could do this.

    She took another long drag and inhaled. After waiting a few seconds, she
tipped her head back and exhaled through pursed lips. The buzzing in her head
continued; but she decided it felt good. "I definitely like it," she announced
with confidence.

    "I knew it," Kitty grinned. "That's what scared me about quitting. There's
something enticing about nicotine. Once you learn to smoke, you can never
truly quit. It gets under your skin too deep. You might stop smoking, you
might even stop for years. But deep in your heart you always want it. You know
that you'd still like to smoke, and that it would taste incredibly good."

    Kitty took a final drag on her cigarette and crushed it in the ashtray.
She'd smoked the whole thing very quickly. "Believe me, I know," she smiled.
"I've talked to other smokers who quit for years. There's a guy who works with
my dad whose wife made him quit smoking twenty years ago. He said something
incredible. He said that if he found out the world would end tomorrow, the
first thing he'd do would be buy a pack of cigarettes and light up. Think of
that! Twenty years, and the guy still misses smoking!" Kitty shook her head.
"It takes a lot of pleasure to imprint that on your psyche!"

    "It does taste good," Dawn admitted. "But I don't remember getting so
dizzy." She took another sip of coffee. "I like it, but I feel really
light-headed."

    "Maybe you're over-doing it. Maybe you should slow down a little," Kitty
suggested as she paused to light a second cigarette. "I hope you don't mind,"
she apologized. "But I've got to have another one." She lit up and double
pumped. "I'll probably chain smoke all night," she admitted with a smile. "You
know, making up for lost time!"

    Kitty took another long drag, lasting at least five seconds. She inhaled
the smoke and then cocked the cigarette beside her head before exhaling.
"Dawn, don't try to imitate me. I always take long drags and inhale too deep.
I'm a bad example. I know I shouldn't pull so much smoke so deep in my lungs
all the time." She took another drag and inhaled again. "It's just that I like
it," she giggled. "It's the best part of smoking. But you shouldn't. At least
not 'til you get used to smoking again. Then you can decide if you want to be
as bad as I am."

    "I like inhaling," Dawn admitted. "But maybe you're right. My body isn't
used to nicotine. I should take it slower. At least at first."

    Dawn took another, smaller puff. But she quickly inhaled the smoke as
deeply as before. If this inhale was any shallower, Kitty couldn't tell. Dawn
grinned sheepishly when she realized Kitty was watching her.

    Dawn blushed. "What?!?" she exclaimed sarcastically, but with a big grin,
holding the smoke inside. "Okay, I admit. I can't smoke without inhaling.
Dizzy or not, I like it too much. Inhaling feels too good. Don't you agree?"
she asked rhetorically, finally releasing the smoke. "Actually, I never cared
much for smoking 'til one of my girlfriends taught me to inhale. That changed
everything. All of a sudden I wanted to smoke all the time! I couldn't get
enough." She stopped for another quick hit. "If I'm going to smoke, I'm going
to inhale. Don't worry. I'll get over the dizziness," she winked.

    "Oh, I'm sure you will," Kitty nodded smugly. "At the rate you're going,
Dawn, I'm not worried at all." She watched her take another drag. It was
Kitty's turn to be amused. No doubt about it, she thought as Dawn inhaled once
again. That girl is not going slow. Not at all. In fact, Kitty thought, if she
keeps it up, within no time she'll be good and hooked.

    For some reason, that realization didn't trouble Kitty. Instead, it
pleased her. Perhaps, she realized, it was because of the fresh euphoria she
was experiencing as she satisfied her own strong craving for nicotine.

    Kitty took a long, hard puff on her Marlboro. The cherry end of the
cigarette burned brightly as she pulled the smoke into her mouth. Quickly she
gulped it deep into her lungs. It felt so good! She was so glad to be smoking
again! After three days of misery, she was happy and relaxed again, yet
excited at the same time. She loved the way the smoke felt each time it filled
her lungs! It was heavenly. She reluctantly let it escape through her
nostrils. I'll never quit again, she resolved quietly. Never!

    She smiled across the table at her new smoking buddy. "Dawn, thanks for
talking sense to me. If it weren't for your encouragement tonight, I'd have
spent several more days in misery before giving in. It would've been for no
purpose, because eventually I'm sure I'd have started smoking again. You just
helped the inevitable happen quicker. Thanks."

    "You're welcome," Dawn blushed as she finally crushed her cigarette in the
ashtray. "But it made me feel kind of guilty. I mean, you said you wanted to
quit. And I screwed it up by encouraging you to smoke again. But honestly, I
had my heart set on smoking with you tonight. And you looked so miserable. So
I hope it was okay ...." she said cautiously.

    "Okay? It was the best thing you could have done," Kitty interrupted.
"You're wrong. I didn't want to quit. That was the problem. I love it too
much," she laughed. "I'm relieved to be smoking again." She looked across the
table. "I'm glad we're friends, Dawn. And it looks like we'll be smoking
buddies, too. You sure didn't look tentative while you were smoking."

    "I wasn't," Dawn admitted. "With every puff of my cigarette I felt more
comfortable, more at ease, more ... I don't know. It felt normal to be
smoking." She looked at her watch. "But I've gotta go."

    Dawn stood and walked over to her friend. "You're great, Kitty," she said.
Impulsively, she reached out and gave her a big hug. Kitty hugged back.
"Thanks for smoking with me tonight," Dawn whispered, with their arms wrapped
around one another. The smoke from Kitty's second cigarette, which was still
burning behind Dawn's back as they embraced, wafted toward Dawn's nostrils.

    "Mmm, that smells so good!" Dawn sighed. After letting go, Dawn wiggled
her fingers, smiled, and looked directly at Kitty's Marlboro 100. Kitty
immediately understood. She smiled and handed the cigarette to Dawn. Dawn put
it in her mouth, took a moderately long drag, and inhaled deeply again.

    "Thanks, Kitty," said Dawn, handing the burning cigarette back to her
friend. "Tastes so good," she added as she exhaled the smoke. "Really great!
Thanks again!"

    She watched Dawn walk out the door. A strange evening, Kitty thought. She
lifted the cigarette to her lips again. She double pumped, sucking smoke into
her lungs in successive inhales until they could hold no more. She held it
inside for a long time. She smiled. Smoking again. Thank God! Such a relief!

    And there's another new smoker in the fellowship, Kitty giggled as she
exhaled. Not much doubt about it, she decided. Dawn's a goner! But, Kitty
concluded, if she enjoys her smoking half as much as I do, then that's not
bad!

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