Converted, Part 3

    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
remuneration is received, directly or indirectly, by the person reproducing
it.

    CONVERTED

    3. Smoking More and Enjoying it ... More!

    Dawn arrived at her apartment. She was excited. She wanted to smoke again.
Dizzy or not, she wanted to inhale once more. She loved the feeling. She'd
forgotten how wonderful it was to have smoke in her lungs! And here at home,
it didn't matter whether she got lightheaded.

    She started to hang her coat in the closet, and then smiled. Instead, she
threw it on the couch and sat at the kitchen table. An old glass ashtray was
retrieved from the cupboard. It had probably never been used, she decided. She
didn't think Jim ever let anyone smoke in his apartment.

    Dawn got out another cigarette. It would be her second of the evening. She
paused to look the cigarette between her fingers.

    An unexpected fear gripped her. "I'll get hooked if I keep smoking. It
won't take long. Kitty predicted it, and she's right. Maybe I should stop
while I still can." It was strangely unwelcome, but Dawn recognized that
voice. It was the voice of caution and conservatism. The voice that always
said: "Don't take any risks."

    For a minute she thought about what happened to Kitty when she tried to
quit. The same thing might happen to me, the voice of caution told her. To
avoid it, I should stop. Right now. I shouldn't do this.

    She pensively rolled the unlit cigarette between her fingers, reading the
word "Marlboro" in gold letters below the white filter. As she pondered it, a
different voice began to speak inside her head. "But Kitty doesn't mind being
hooked," the voice whispered. "In fact, Kitty likes it. She said so. It
pleases her." She recognized this voice, too. It was the voice of desire for
pleasure. The voice that always said: "Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

    Dawn lifted the cigarette to her nose to smell the fresh tobacco. "It
smells so good!" she said aloud. She took a deep breath. The second voice, the
voice of desire, was prevailing.

    "Okay," Dawn said aloud, as if negotiating with herself. "I am going to
smoke this cigarette. I'll smoke one more. Then I'll decide. If I don't like
it, I'll quit. And if I do like it, ...."

    She didn't finish. She smiled at the unfairness of the bargain she'd
struck. Totally one-sided. She knew what would happen. The answer was certain.
As certain as the fact that she _would_ like it! Without hesitation, she put
the cigarette in her mouth and flicked her lighter.

    As the flame brought the Marlboro to life, Dawn took an initial drag and
inhaled. She smiled as she removed the cigarette from her lips. The smoke
tasted _so_ good! She held it inside her lungs for several seconds. The
pleasant buzzing she'd felt before returned. Otherwise, she felt calm,
relaxed. She pursed her lips and exhaled. The smoke escaped in a tight stream,
where it hung in the air in front of her face.

    "Dawn, you're a bad girl," she chided herself. Then she laughed, letting
out a delighted but evil giggle. "But I like you, my little nicotine delivery
system," she told her cigarette. "I like the way you make me feel. And I love
the way you taste. You taste good!"

    The lazy, peaceful feeling increased as Dawn took a second puff. Nicotine
was entering her bloodstream. She knew what was happening. But she didn't
care. She felt good. She also felt dizzy. The effect was pharmacological, but
she didn't mind. The dizziness meant it was working!

    She took an even longer third drag. This time she also inhaled more
deeply. By now her head was swimming. Reluctantly, she exhaled again, even
more slowly this time.

    The nicotine's effect on her body increased. Although she enjoyed the
slightly euphoric feeling it produced, she shook her head a couple times to
clear her brain. She then took a fourth drag, and a fifth. She was really
buzzing now. She tapped ashes from her cigarette in the ashtray. She took two
more quick drags, inhaling both and holding the smoke inside. Slowly, she
began to feel queasy. It was nicotine overdose. "That's enough for now," she
decided. "But I did like it. I'll try another one in a few minutes." She
deliberately crushed the cigarette in the ashtray.

    Dawn smiled as she realized how easily the voice of caution had been
overcome. Smoking one cigarette was all it took. The desire for pleasure was
stronger than the other voice.

    But was the desire for pleasure bad? She was becoming more involved in
church. Was smoking wrong for her as a Christian? She shook her head. No. She
remembered enough from philosophy and religion classes in college to recognize
that rejecting pleasure was the mark of stoicism. Christians are not stoics,
someone once said. She couldn't believe that God opposed pleasure, unless the
so-called pleasure hurt others. But she was hurting no one by smoking. Except
maybe herself. And that didn't count. She was sure of that.

    She went to the bedroom and selected a flannel nightgown from her closet.
She'd already broken out her flannel nightgowns because of the cool September
weather. A feeling of sadness swept over her as she remembered how Jim liked
this particular nightgown. Dawn looked at the bed. "No," she said aloud. "I
can't think about that now!"

    She returned to the kitchen. She got milk and cookies for her nighttime
snack. Walking to the living room, she turned on the TV. She sat in her
favorite chair and watched the news. She quickly finished the snack. Another
cigarette before bed?

    Dawn looked at her white and gold pack of Marlboro Light 100's, full of
cigarettes waiting to be smoked. Smoked by her, she realized with a smile.
Dawn turned the lighter between her fingers. "I like smoking," she told
herself. "Who am I kidding? I liked it when I was younger, and I still like
it," she told herself. "My parents wouldn't let me do it in those days. Well,
screw them!"

    With a motion of defiance, she put her third cigarette of the night
between her lips. As it dangled, she thought about how Kitty smoked hers.
Furiously; passionately. Kitty took deep drags and inhaled for a long time.
This time Dawn would mimic Kitty. "Yeah, I want another one before bed," she
said firmly.

    Dawn flicked the lighter. The flame danced. She raised it up and touched
it to the cigarette in her mouth. As she sucked, she again savored the
wonderful taste of the smoke. She inhaled it deep into her lungs and held it
there.

    "My friend Kitty likes smoke," Dawn thought, still holding it in. "Smoke
makes Kitty feel good. It tastes good, too!" She began exhaling. "Kitty
repeats this exercise forty times every day because it tastes so good." She
took another long drag. "It tastes good to Kitty every time she smokes. It
tastes good to me, too," she smiled. "So good!"

    She was pleased as she took another long drag and held the smoke inside.
This time her head didn't buzz as much. She held the smoke for a long time,
like Kitty. The same peaceful feeling, the same calmness and relaxation
continued to wash over her as she smoked slowly and deliberately. "I like
smoking," she repeated to herself. "I've always liked it. I never wanted to
quit. I wanted to keep smoking. I still want to smoke today. Because it's
relaxing. And fun!"

    Her parents couldn't stop her anymore. They weren't even in the same city.
That thought excited her. She took another drag, inhaled and again held the
smoke as long as she could. She didn't want to stop. Not this time! She tipped
her head back and lowly she exhaled a stream of smoke through pursed lips. The
sight of the escaping smoke relaxed and excited her even more.

    She leaned back in the chair and curled her legs beneath her. She tapped
the cigarette's lengthening ash into the ashtray. She took another drag, this
time exhaling through her nose. The smoke tickled as it escaped, but it felt
good. She giggled. It smelled good. It tasted good. I'm a smoker again, she
told herself. Finally.

    Why hadn't she started smoking again when she went away to college? Dawn
frowned as she thought about this. She wasn't sure. But she should have. Her
college friends weren't smokers. It all depends on what crowd you hang out
with, she decided. But now I'm friends with a bunch of smokers, she told
herself. Especially Kitty.

    "I should call Kitty and tell her how I'm doing," she suddenly decided. It
seemed silly, but somehow it also seemed important. She wanted to tell Kitty
she'd really decided she was going to keep smoking. As if Kitty would be
surprised!

    She searched in her purse for Kitty's phone numbers. She left the
cigarette in her mouth while she looked. Breathing with the cigarette in her
mouth felt good. She liked smoke going in and out with each breath. Nicotine
is so calming, she mused, and the smoke tastes so good.

    "Got it," she said aloud, pulling the number from her purse. She walked to
the phone, still letting her cigarette dangle. She looked at the clock. It was
after eleven. She hoped it wasn't too late to call.

    "Hello?" said the voice on the other end of the line.

    "Kitty?" she asked. "This is Dawn. Dawn Brown."

    "Hi, Dawn," Kitty replied cheerfully. "It's only been an hour since I saw
you. Are you okay?"

    "I'm fine," Dawn began. "I'm better than fine. I'm sorry to call so late.
For some reason I had to tell you. I'm really enjoying smoking. I feel so good
about it. I thought you should know. I'm not sure why."

    There was a brief pause on the line. Finally, Kitty spoke. "Dawn, I still
feel guilty about what happened. Not about me. I'm glad I'm smoking again. But
how about you? Are you sure you want to do this? I'd feel terrible if I
encouraged you to do something you shouldn't."

    Dawn looked at the cigarette in her hand. "Don't worry. It's my choice.
You only started me thinking. I'm the one who wanted to smoke. I'd forgotten
how much I liked it. I feel liberated. It's good to do something that doesn't
remind me of Jim. Smoking was never part of our relationship. It's like
starting over again. I feel good about this."

    Dawn heard Kitty lighting a cigarette. She smiled. She imagined Kitty
taking one of her long, deliberate drags on her cork-tipped Marlboro 100.

    "That's okay, then," Kitty answered. "I'm not trying to discourage you.
God, I love smoking too much to do that!"

    "Kitty," Dawn asked. "Could we get together to talk about this some more?"
She paused to take a drag of her own. Inhaling smoke into her lungs felt
better the longer she smoked. "To be honest, I'd also like to smoke with
someone."

    "Sure. I'd love to get together. And we'll definitely smoke," Kitty
laughed. "Smoking is more fun when you do it with someone else. Bob's out of
town 'til Friday. We could get together tomorrow for dinner."

    "That'd be great," Dawn replied. She finally crushed her cigarette in the
ashtray. "I get off work around 5:30."

    "Then let's meet at Robinson's Bistro at six," Kitty suggested.

    Robinson's was a fashionable yuppie bistro on the north end. Dawn went
there often. It was one of Jim's favorites ....

    Kitty waited through a long pause. "Is Robinson's okay?" she asked. "Do
you prefer somewhere else?"

    "No, Robinson's is great," Dawn answered. "It's just ... Jim and I used to
eat there a lot..."

    "Oh," came tbe answer. "But I'll bet you never sat in the smoking section
with Jim."

    "No."

    "Then we'll sit in the smoking section this time," Kitty went on. "It'll
be symbolic. You'll be starting a new life. Without him."

    Dawn thought. "Okay," she decided. "I'll see you at six. At Robinson's."

    She hung up. She looked at the pack of cigarettes. "Gosh, how am I going
to explain this Cathy?" she wondered. Oh, well. She'd worry about that later.
She wouldn't see Cathy 'til next Wednesday. She'd have plenty of time to
ponder it before then.

    For a long moment Dawn thought about having another cookie before going to
bed. Then instead she looked again at the gold and white pack of cigarettes on
the table. "Cookie or cigarette?" she mused. Another thought occurred to her.
"Maybe smoking will help me stop eating so much. That would be good!" She
reached for her pack. "Instead of a cookie, I'll just smoke one more cigarette
before I go to bed ...."

   
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    Dawn arrived home late on Thursday. What a time she'd had with Kitty! She
couldn't remember when she'd laughed so hard! She sighed. Good food, good
company, a few glasses of wine; and an almost innumerable number of
cigarettes. Life was good!

    She threw her purse on the sofa and went to the bedroom to change. As she
undressed, she recounted the cigarettes she'd smoked today. Let's see. She'd
had her first one before work. It tasted good with her morning coffee! So
good, in fact, that she'd had a second one!

    On her way to work she'd been tempted to smoke in the car, but decided
against it. At work she'd confided in Tina Bradley, one of the other girls in
the office. Tina smoked, so Dawn figured she was safe. Tina was intrigued by
Dawn's return to smoking. She invited Dawn to join her for a smoke break in
the morning, and another in the afternoon. Both times Tina smoked two
cigarettes. So Dawn did likewise. It hadn't been hard. In fact, it was great!
And after coming home, Dawn had smoked another two cigarettes before meeting
Kitty for dinner.

    How many was that? she asked herself as she finished undressing. She
counted on her fingers. God, I smoked eight cigarettes before dinner today!

    Stripped down to her bra and panties, Dawn considered changing into her
nightgown. Instead, she decided on a pink sweat suit. She giggled as she
thought about dinner. Kitty had smoked constantly. Dawn did her best to keep
up with her friend, but she couldn't match Kitty's pace. However, after doing
some quick arithmetic Dawn realized she'd smoked seven more cigarettes before
and after dinner. That brought her total for the day to 15! Pretty impressive!

    Amazingly, Dawn didn't feel satiated. That was a good sign. It meant she
was adjusting to her "new" habit.

    She returned to the living room and opened her purse to get her
cigarettes. "Time for another," she told herself. Then she paused. She was
glad she was smoking again, only .... Only what? She wasn't sure. But suddenly
she felt uncomfortable. Why was that?

    She sighed. She knew why. The apartment was the only place she felt this
way. It was because, despite the enjoyment she experienced, she still knew Jim
wouldn't have approved. That still bothered her. It was about the only thing
that still made her feel guilty. But she resolved to keep smoking anyway.
"I'll get over it," she decided.

    Dawn looked at her pack. To her chagrin, only one cigarette was left! "Oh,
God, no," she muttered in momentary panic. "I'm almost out."

    Collecting herself, she smiled at the involuntary reaction. Her panic
meant she was psychologically, if not physically, already becoming addicted.
Putting aside her guilt, she contemplated what to do about her lack of
cigarettes. Only one thing to do. She had to go out.

    She'd thrown her keys on the kitchen table. Cigarettes and lighter in
hand, she returned to the kitchen to retrieve them. "I'm going to run to the
store and buy myself a carton this time," Dawn decided. Then she noticed the
blinking message light on her answering machine. She'd listen to the messages
first. Before going out to buy cigarettes.

    "I'll smoke the last cigarette while I listen to the messages," she
decided. She lit her last cigarette and pushed the button on the answering
machine. Listening to the tape rewind, she took a long drag and inhaled the
smoke. Ahh, she sighed. It felt good!

    "Dawn, honey, this is Rita," the machine intoned. "I know this is
difficult for you. I'm sorry we have to do this. But we'd like to come over
and start getting some of Jimmy's things from the apartment."

    She choked as she listened. She'd been dreading this conversation with
Jim's parents. She continued to smoke while she listened carefully.

    "Eventually we'll need to get everything. Oh, we can wait on the big
items, like his furniture, until you decide what you're going to do, honey. I
mean, whether you're going to get another place, or whether you're even going
to stay in town. Anyway, right now we just want to begin getting some of his
personal things. You know? Like his books, his pictures and some of the things
we gave him. We'd also like to pick up his laptop computer and his stereo, if
that's okay with you."

    Dawn frowned as she exhaled. She did not want to deal with Jim's parents
over this. Not yet. But she knew they had a right to his stuff. She took
another drag, deeper this time, to calm her nerves. It was pretty damn
mercenary for Rita to ask for Jim's laptop and his stereo so soon, she
decided. He'd only been gone for .... Tears began collecting in Dawn's eyes.
She wiped them away as the message continued.

    " I know this is hard for you, Dawn. I'm sorry we have to do this. But
eventually you know that we'll have to clean out the apartment. Call and tell
us when we can come over for the computer and the other little stuff. We could
come over on Saturday and get our stuff. Thanks, honey. Bye."

    In disgust, Dawn exhaled smoke from her nose. The whole tone of the
message upset her. But the tickle of smoke exiting her nostrils was
surprisingly comforting. Damn Rita! Now I'll have to spend tomorrow night
going through all Jim's stuff. She'd intentionally been putting it off. She
hadn't wanted to face opening the drawers, seeing his personal things. She
almost imagined that if she just left them, he'd eventually come back. Silly
as it was, she didn't want to give up any of it. She sighed. But Rita was
stubborn. There was no more putting it off now.

    The cigarette was over half gone. But Dawn couldn't finish. She was too
upset. She crushed it out in the ashtray after taking one long, last puff.
Thinking about Jim made it difficult to keep smoking in the apartment. After
listening to his mother, it was as if Jim had re-entered. As if she was
profaning his memory by smoking in here any longer.

    She put her car keys back on the table. Maybe she'd buy herself a carton
of cigarettes on the way to work in the morning. But she couldn't do it now.
Not after thinking about Jim. She pulled off her sweat-suit, got her nightgown
and headed for bed. "A cookie first," she decided. "Instead of a cigarette,"
she said sadly. Into the kitchen she went.

   
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    "You seem better the last couple days, Dawn," Tina said as she lit up.
"You seem calmer, like you're happy again. Am I right?"

    The smoking section in the little deli was filling fast. Tina suggested
they come before noon to beat the crowd. If you came too late, sometimes you
couldn't get a smoking table. Tina always sat in the smoking section. Dawn
smiled. These days she didn't want to sit in the non-smoking section either.

    "Yes, I do feel better," Dawn admitted, quickly lighting a cigarette of
her own. It felt so good, such a welcome relief after a stressful morning at
work. "You might think this is strange, Tina, but I think I'm happier because
I'm smoking again. It relaxes me so much. It gives me something to look
forward to. You know what I mean?"

    Tina Bradley paused to wink at a guy at the next table before she nodded.
Just over five feet tall, she was a notorious flirt. Petite, redheaded,
vivacious, and single, Tina talked incessantly about men; mostly the latest
one she was screwing. There always seemed to be an endless supply of new men
in her life. Dawn didn't necessarily approve of her lifestyle, but she did
admire Tina's zest for life.

    Today Tina wore dangling gold earrings and a tight green top which
generously displayed her ample assets. Her top also matched her flashing green
eyes. As always, Tina was dressed to kill. Dawn noticed several men staring at
Tina. No surprise. She was gorgeous!

    By her own admission, Tina smoked compulsively. At lunch and on breaks,
Tina chained one cigarette after another. Officially the girls weren't
permitted to smoke in the office. But Tina frequently broke that rule with
impunity whenever the boss left early. She would light up at her desk and
smoke without apology. The other girls had stopped complaining long ago
because it did no good. Bob Johnson half-heartedly scolded her when he
actually caught her smoking, or when the others girls complained loudly. But
Bob was never too tough on her. Smoker or not, Tina was the best employee he
had. Everyone knew it. Bob wasn't about to piss her off. She might quit on
him. Because he knew she'd never quit smoking.

    Tina took an extra long drag on her Salem Light 100, followed immediately
by a second one almost as long. She sucked the double-pumped smoke deep down
into her lungs and beamed. After waiting several seconds, she finally replied
to Dawn's statement about smoking being a calming influence.

    "You say smoking calms you down? God, no shit!" Tina teased with a
malicious giggle. She paused to reluctantly exhale a few wisps from her
nostrils, followed by a small stream of smoke from her lips. "God, I know
exactly what you mean," she went on, still holding the balance of her smoke
inside. "When I'm not smoking, I'm an absolute bitch! I go crazy when I can't
smoke. But even so, I can't believe you just started up again. Just like that!
I'm proud of you. It's so ... I don't know, so radical!" She beamed as she
finally exhaled the balance of the smoke from her nose.

    Tina always attracted attention. With her wrist cocked beside her pretty
red head, a long cigarette held between those fingers with the long red nails,
Tina was insufferably cute. Dawn had never lunched with Tina before she'd
started smoking again. She was a riot to go out with. The men at the nearby
tables watched Tina with barely concealed interest. Dawn mentioned their
stares to Tina, who laughed out loud. That figured. Everything Tina did was
loud.

    "I know," Tina giggled again. "Isn't it fuckin' great?" She took another
long hit on her Salem. Inhaling, she continued. "I think some of 'em like to
watch me smoke. I always try to put on a good show." She stopped and exhaled
twin streams of smoke from her nostrils.

    "What do you mean?" Tina asked with a quizzical look. "Watch you smoke?"

    "Sure, sweetie," Tina smiled. "Because some men have a _thing_ about women
who smoke. You know?"

    Dawn shook her head. "No, I don't. What do you mean?"

    "Sure you do. C'mon. You know! A thing! A fetish," Tina whispered with
mock seriousness. "They get off watching women smoke," she explained. She took
another long hit and paused to look around. "But today, kid, some of 'em are
watching you! They're watching you smoke, too. Look around."

    Dawn looked. Sure enough, several men averted their glances when as Dawn
perused the room. They _had_ been watching her. "I don't get it," she said
with a confused frown. "What excites them about women smoking?"

    "I'm not sure I completely understand it myself," Tina began. "Well,
that's not true," she admitted. "Because I think that women who smoke look
damn sexy. You, for example, Dawn. You look fuckin' great sucking that smoke
deep down into your chest. Your pretty little titties rise up every time you
fill your lungs. Because you inhale _so_ goddamn deep. Then you slowly blow
the smoke out of that pretty little mouth of yours. God, it's so sexy," Tina
laughed.

    Dawn was perplexed. She'd never thought of smoking as sexy. And she was a
bit disturbed that Tina found her sexy. After all, Tina was a woman! Dawn knew
Tina was an unabashed libertine, but it never occurred to her that Tina might
be bi-sexual.

    "Are you sure, Tina?" she slowly asked again. "Some men actually find
women who smoke extra attractive?"

    "God, yes!" Tina exclaimed. "Men and women. Just try cruising the internet
sometime. There are dozens of web sites with pictures of beautiful women
smoking. It's a fact. Lots of men are turned on big-time by the sight of
beautiful women smoking. And like I said, some women get off on it, too."

    "Like you?" Dawn asked boldly. "You get off on women smoking, too?"

    "Yeah," Tina sighed. "Okay. I mean, I like guys better, all right?. I'm
not a damn lesbian. But even so, I'll be honest. I'm not above fucking the
right girl. Especially if she smokes. Like you, Dawn," Tina concluded with a
mischievous grin.

    Dawn was astounded. But she ignored the subtle come-on. If it was a come
on. "Well, have you ever dated a guy who felt _that way_ about you?"

    "God, yes," Tina laughed. "A bunch of times. They beg me to smoke for
them. It's a real trip. And they really get off if I smoke while we fuck. They
love it!"

    A hundred questions rushed through Dawn's head. "Well, it sounds degrading
to me. Disgusting."

    "But why?" Tina asked. "It's no more disgusting than anything else that
turns men on. Like your tits, for example. You've got great boobs, Dawn. But
are you offended because guys like looking at 'em? I don't think so. Otherwise
you wouldn't wear that tight little blouse, would you? Don't lie to me! You
know how that affects any red-blooded male!"

    Dawn blushed. "I guess so," she admitted slowly. "But what I mean is, I
don't believe in sex outside of marriage. I'm pretty traditional that way."

    Tina looked amused. "Is that so? But you moved in with Jim before getting
married. I'll bet your relationship with him was not exactly platonic."

    "No. But that was different. After all, we were engaged."

    Tina shrugged as she crushed her cigarette in the ashtray and promptly lit
a second one. "Whatever. The point is, you can't avoid being sexual. And a lot
of men like women who smoke. It just turns them on. And if it does, you're a
fool if you don't use smoking to your own advantage, Dawn. You look damn good
smoking. Trust me on that one!"

    With that, Dawn had had enough. She felt increasingly uncomfortable. She
liked Tina, but didn't share her morally relative values She was also
uncomfortable with Tina's interest in watching her smoke. So Dawn turned the
conversation to other topics. They ate lunch and smoked a final cigarette over
coffee. Then it was time to return to the office.

    "Cruise the 'net some evening, Dawn," Tina advised as they crossed the
street and headed back to the office after lunch. She was furiously smoking
her last cigarette of the lunch hour.

    "You'll be astounded what a sexual statement smoking has become!" She took
a long drag as they hopped the curb. "The funny thing is, some guys who are
most turned on are the really straight ones. The guys who seem so ... so
normal. You'd never expect it."

    A mischievous grin spread across Tina's face as she squinted at Dawn in
the noon-day sun. "I'll even bet some of your church choir-boys would jump out
of their pants to see you light up a cigarette and take a nice, long drag,"
Tina smiled wickedly. "Some of 'em probably smoke, too, but they're afraid to
tell anyone. But I bet they love watching you do it."

    Dawn didn't answer. Maybe Tina was right. But she didn't like to think
about it. Could that possibly be true about any of the guys in the fellowship
group? What about Joe? she thought involuntarily. She shuddered. He smokes
himself, but he also does hang around with the girls in the fellowship who
smoke. But he seems so nice, so ... normal.

    "Maybe some of them do," Dawn replied defensively. "But that doesn't make
it right."

    "And it doesn't make it wrong, either," Tina answered smugly. "It's just a
fact. Face it, Dawn. Like it or not, by deciding to start smoking you've
become incredibly sexy to a lot of guys ... and girls ... who get off watching
you do it. So enjoy it. Flaunt it! Don't fight it, kid."

    They finally reached the door to the office building. Tina held out her
hand, offering Dawn her almost spent cigarette. "You want one last drag before
we go in?"

    Dawn started to decline. Then she stopped. Despite her discomfort with the
conversation, she did want a drag. It sounded good. "Sure, I guess so," she
smiled weakly.

    Dawn took the Salem. Putting it in her mouth, she took a hit. As she
handed it back, she noticed Tina watching her with a little too much interest.
But that realization faded in significance as Dawn felt a surprisingly cool
rush in the back of her throat. Tina laughed, seeing the look on Dawn's face.

    "That's the menthol," she giggled. "Cool, huh?"

    "Yeah, I guess," Dawn replied as she exhaled. "I've never smoked menthol.
It tastes different."

    "Better," Tina corrected with a big smile. She took a quick double pump of
her own and dropped the butt to the ground. "Think about it, Dawn. Just think
about it."

    Dawn shook her head. "I think I like my Marlboros better."

    "No, I mean think about the sexual thing. Because I'm right. As a smoker,
you've given yourself a new asset. Use it."

    Dawn did ponder it, all afternoon. She wondered whether Tina could be
right. Maybe some men were attracted by girls who smoke. A lot of men were
turned off by smoking. So it made sense that some might feel attracted by it.
For whatever reason.

    In the midst of her mental discomfort, at three o'clock she joined Tina
for an afternoon smoke break. She didn't want to talk about the sexual thing
anymore, but she did want another cigarette. So she joined Tina. Dawn was both
relieved and surprised when Dianne, another girl in the office, quietly
followed them. A dozen girls worked in the office. As far as Dawn knew, Tina
was the only other smoker. But it looked like Dianne intended to smoke with
them. She carried a pack of cigarettes as they walked outside. Tina was just
as surprised as Dawn.

    "God, Dianne, I didn't know you smoked, too!" she exclaimed as Dianne
displayed her Merit 100's. "That's great!"

    "Yeah," Dianne replied sheepishly. She quickly lit a cigarette, looking
around. She was embarrassed. "I've been afraid to come out of the closet." She
smiled at Dawn. "But when I heard you smoke, Dawn, I decided to screw up my
courage and join you guys." Dianne took a quick, hard drag and sighed. "God,
it feels good to smoke! I hate waiting until after work. Maybe I'll start
joining you guys every afternoon!"

    "Be our guest," Tina smiled. "The more, the merrier!" She grinned at Dawn.
"See, Dawn, you started a trend! Before long, we'll have all the girls out
here for smoke breaks!"

    Dawn watched Dianne take another quick drag, followed by a rapid and
forceful exhale. Her smoking style was as different from Tina's as her overall
appearance. Tina took long, leisurely drags, while Dianne puffed hard and
quick. Dianne was tall and thin, but Tina was short and voluptuous. Dianne's
complexion was light, with blond hair to match. It was quite a contrast to
Tina's reddish complexion. Dianne was attractive, but her figure was as
unremarkable as Tina's was eye-catching. Smoking together side by side, the
two of them looked like a female Mutt and Jeff team. Each was cute in their
own way, but they looked funny standing together.

    "So, Dianne," Dawn finally asked. "Have you been smoking for a long time?"

    "Yeah," Dianne blushed. "I've been smoking for about seven years. I'm 22,"
she explained. "I started when I was 15."

    "How much do you smoke?" Dawn inquired.

    "Recently, about a pack a day," Dianne admitted. "That's increased over
the last few months," she added. She stopped to take another quick hit on her
cigarette.

    "So, what made you decide to come out of the closet?" Tina interjected.

    "I've always been afraid to tell people I smoke," Dianne winced. This time
smoke escaped from her lips as she talked. Dawn had to admit Tina had the look
of a veteran smoker. "I love to smoke, but I've always taking shit for it.
Especially from my family and church."

    "So no one in your family smokes?" Dawn asked.

    "God, no," Dianne explained. "My mom still can't accept that I do. I
didn't tell her for a long time." She paused. "I grew up in a fundamentalist
church where no one smokes. At least, no one admits they do. Things like
drinking and smoking are extremely frowned upon. I like the people there, but
I couldn't stand their hypocrisy and their constant criticism of other people
who aren't like them." She shrugged. "I guess that's why I'm extra sensitive
about people knowing that I smoke."

    Tina was not interested in religion. She finished her first cigarette, and
immediately lit another. She was obviously bored by talk about church. But
Dawn was intrigued. "Do you still go to church, Dianne?" she asked, getting
out a second cigarette of her own and firing it up.

    "No," Dianne admitted. "I haven't been for a couple years. I miss it. I
really do. But it's too hard. They shun you if you don't conform to their way
of doing things. You know what I mean? Like, they all dress the same way, and
they expect everyone to do certain things and not do other things. Things like
smoking. I can't fit in there." She took a last drag from her cigarette and
exhaled. "But a lot of positive things have happened in my life recently."

    "Such as?" Tina asked, taking a drag. Her interest picked up as the
discussion moved away from religion.

    Dianne followed the other girls' lead. She, too, lit up a second
cigarette. "Well, I finally moved out of my mom's place. I moved in with a
girl friend. My new roommate Bette smokes, too, and so I started smoking more.
I didn't plan on it, but I found myself smoking more because Bette smokes,
too. Then I started dating this guy," she added with a giggle. "He smokes. So
recently I've been smoking more and more, being around Bette and Bill. I
decided I just couldn't hide it anymore. Shit or no shit!"

    "But no regrets?" Tina replied with a smile.

    "No," Dianne acknowledged. "None. Maybe I should regret it, but I don't.
Oh, I know smoking isn't good for me, but I like to smoke anyway. Thanks for
letting me join you guys. I feel better about this already."

    Tina finished her second cigarette quickly, although Dawn and Dianne were
both still only half done. "I've got lots of work to do," Tina apologized.
"Sorry I finished so fast. I hate to smoke and run, but you guys are too slow
today," she kidded.

    "Go on, Tina," Dawn smiled. "We're coming in a minute. We're smoking in a
more leisurely fashion, savoring every puff," she teased, taking a long, slow,
deliberate drag. With a wave, Tina disappeared into the building.

    As Tina left, Dawn decided to turn the conversation back to church.
"Dianne," she asked. "Are you going to church anywhere now?"

    "No," Dianne answered. She seemed defensive.

    "Well, you might be interested in trying Saint Stephens' Methodist. I'm in
a Wednesday night fellowship group there. It's mostly people in their
twenties. Believe it or not, a bunch of the people smoke. Even some of the
leaders. You might like it. It's not uptight or rigid. The people aren't
critical at all. It's pretty cool, really."

    Dianne's countenance brightened visibly. "No kidding?" she asked before
pausing for another quick drag on her Merit. "I'd be interested in trying a
church where people don't dump on me because I smoke. If they're people our
age, that's even better! When did you say your group meets?"

    _Your_ group, Dawn repeated silently. She smiled. I guess it is my group,
she thought. "We meet on Wednesday nights," she said aloud. "And I'd be happy
to pick you up. It's not fundamentalist. From what you've said, it's not
anything like the church you grew up in. This group has been a big help to me.
Since Jim died, I mean."

    "I'd like to come," Dianne smiled warmly. "Like I said, I miss going to
church. I'd love to go with you."

    They smoked in silence for the next couple minutes. Dawn felt happy. She
was glad Dianne had joined them for this smoke break. She was happy to have
another smoker in the office. And very glad Dianne was interested in coming to
church with her. She felt certain Dianne would like Kitty and the others among
the smoking contingent.

    Dawn wondered whether there were other closet smokers among people she
knew. She wasn't sure why, but she hoped so. She was a bit surprised at her
politically incorrect feelings. But it was one more piece of evidence that she
was indeed a real smoker now. She liked smoking with other people. Kitty had
been right; smoking with friends was much more fun than smoking alone!

   
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    When she got home from work, Dawn saw a familiar Chrysler New Yorker
parked in front of the apartment. "Oh my God," she gasped. "It's Rita and Jim,
Sr.!"

    Jim's parents were sitting in the car waiting for her. When they saw
Dawn's car pull up, they got out and waved. Dawn was aghast. She hadn't
anticipated they'd be here. Gosh, she was sure Rita said they'd come on the
weekend.

    Jim Sr. and Rita were both in their mid fifties. Apart from gray hair,
they looked ten years younger because, like their son, they were fitness nuts.
Both of them jogged, exercised at a health club, and meticulously followed a
low-fat diet. Dawn was terrified to see them. She'd never discussed the
subject of smoking with them, but was sure they'd react negatively if they
discovered she was smoking.

    In her head Dawn ticked off the signs that might give her away. Did she
leave the ashtray sitting on the kitchen table when she left for work this
morning? She sighed. She probably had. In fact, it probably still had
cigarette butts from last night and this morning. She wasn't very good about
emptying the ashtray. Even worse, today she'd finally broken down and started
smoked in her car. She'd smoked two consecutive cigarettes while driving home,
having thrown the last one out the window only moments before. The weather was
chilly, and she'd only slightly opened the car window. That meant the smell of
smoke would be strong on her clothes and hair. She sighed. Well, maybe they
wouldn't notice.

    "Dawn, honey, how are you doing?" Rita said while Dawn got out of her car
and walked toward them. "It's so good to see you."

    "I'm fine," she replied politely. "But I didn't expect to see you tonight.
I thought you were coming this weekend. So I'm really not ready for you to
take the stuff yet."

    "That's okay, honey. We knew you might not be. But since we were going out
to dinner nearby, we thought we'd stop by and get whatever you have ready for
us to pick up. Isn't that right, Jim?"

    Jim Sr. nodded self-consciously. "Yep," he answered. Jim Sr. was a man of
few words, probably because Rita rarely gave him a chance to speak a complete
sentence.

    Maybe because she was nervous about retrieving her son's things, Rita
seemed unusually effusive. "Come here, Dawn, honey, let me give you a hug,"
she went on. "We haven't seen you for a couple weeks." She held out her hands,
waiting for Dawn to approach.

    The Blacks were a demonstrative family, and among the women hugs were an
expected greeting. Reluctantly, therefore, Dawn complied, giving Rita a
half-hearted hug, avoiding pressing either her clothes or her hair directly
against Rita's face.

    Rita started to speak, and then stopped. "Well," she went on cheerfully.
"Shall we go inside?"

    Walking up to the door, Dawn made a final attempt to forestall them. "You
know, Rita, maybe you should come back after you have dinner. That way I'll
have time to get some of the stuff ready first. Then you can pick it up later
this evening, so you won't have to wait right now."

    "Nonsense," Rita smiled. "Our reservations aren't for another half hour,
are they Jim?"

    "Nope," Jim Sr. replied. He put his hands in his pockets. "We've got
time."

    Dawn turned the key in the front door. "Well, the apartment is a bit of a
mess, I'm afraid. I'm not as neat and tidy as Jim, you know."

    "That's all right," came the reply. "We don't mind a bit. We'll just get
whatever you've got ready." She smiled. "Jim can even help you disconnect the
stereo if you want."

    Dawn opened the front door. "Gee, thanks. That'd be great."

    She entered first, with Rita and Jim Sr. behind her. She clicked on the
light. A quick glance around the living room confirmed that the ashtray was
nowhere in sight. It was probably on the kitchen table. She'd have a chance to
stash it, but she'd have to move fast.

    "Why don't you sit down in here?" she said politely. "I just need to put
away a few things in the kitchen." Because she'd just finished smoking, Dawn's
sense of smell couldn't determinel how noticeable the scent of stale tobacco
was going to be to these two non-smokers.

    Rita and Jim Sr. entered and looked around. The living room was a mess.
Dirty clothes were thrown over the sofa and chair. Yesterday's newspaper and a
few dishes covered the coffee table in front of the TV. Rita disapproved of
untidiness, just as her son had when he was alive. It had been a source of
some tension in the past. Rita had even criticized Dawn's housekeeping habits
to her son. Dawn expected some critical comment, but she flew to the kitchen
table to grab the ashtray, hoping to quickly hide it in a cupboard before
either of them noticed.

    Rita said nothing about the mess. Instead, she sniffed the air and
frowned. "Dawn, you haven't been smoking, have you?" she said with a
supercilious air.

    Having secured the ashtray in a kitchen cupboard, Dawn turned and forced a
smile. "Why, Rita, why would you think that?"

    "Because I was sure I smelled cigarette smoke on your clothes just now,"
Rita intoned. "And this room smells of stale smoke. How do you explain that?"

    For a moment Dawn considered concocting a story about a smoker friend
having visited her last night. She could say that Kitty had been here. But
then she noticed her carton of Marlboro Light 100's sitting on the kitchen
counter. She'd never be able to reach it in time, and she couldn't explain
that away. Unfortunately, it was time to face the music.

    "Yes, Rita, in fact I have been smoking," she answered innocently. "But
only just a little. And only very recently."

    The look of horror on Rita's face was chilling. Oh, God, Dawn thought.
This is not going to be pleasant.

    "Actually, I find that smoking helps calm my nerves," Dawn went on
bravely. "But I didn't mean for you to know. I'm sorry."

    Jim Sr. looked unhappy, but said nothing. On the other hand, Rita's face
turned bright red as she began to speak. Her tone was thoroughly disapproving.
"Dawn, I have to admit that I'm absolutely shocked. I'm disappointed in you. I
thought you had better sense! What on earth caused you to do that?"

    Dawn helplessly gestured with her hands. "I don't know," she admitted from
the kitchen. "I met some new friends at church. One of the girls smokes ....
Well, actually several of them smoke. It reminded me how I enjoyed smoking as
a teenager. So I started smoking again."

    "And it's not just a little bit, is it?" Rita continued. By now her tone
of voice had changed from disapproving to accusatory. "The smell on your
clothes was quite distinct. And is that an ashtray you're hiding in the
kitchen?" Rita's eyes rested on the carton of cigarettes on the kitchen
counter. "Oh my God," she gasped. "You've got a whole carton of those things
in here." She put her hand on her chest and dramatically sat on the sofa while
Jim Sr. stood stoically.

    Dawn stepped toward them. "I'm sorry, Rita. And Jim," she added, with a
nod of her head. "I didn't actually mean to deceive you. Not really. But I
knew you wouldn't understand."

    "You're right," Rita snapped. "We _don't_ understand." She put her hand on
her forehead and closed her eyes for a pregnant moment. Then she continued on
in the same stern tone of voice. "As far as I'm concerned, the only people who
still smoke cigarettes in this day and age are persons who are undisciplined,
lower class, uneducated fools. I had my doubts from the beginning about you,
young lady, about whether you were good enough for my Jimmy. I'm beginning to
think those doubts were justified. I can't believe you're actually smoking in
_his_ apartment. Why, it's only been a few weeks since he ... since he died."
She too had trouble saying the D-word.

    Dawn was silent. The elaborate histrionics displayed by Jim's mother made
her angry. Rita shook her head and went on. "Tell me this. What do you think
Jimmy would say if he were here right now? About you smoking, I mean?
Certainly you don't think he would condone this?"

    Dawn wanted to defuse the situation, but felt her own temper boiling. She
knew Rita never approved of her. She couldn't resist defending herself.

    "Rita, I'll tell you what I think. Jim is dead! He's not here to tell us
what he thinks. But I know that he'd support me whatever I chose to do.
Because unlike you, he loved me just the way I am. Despite my faults - and
I've got a number of them - Jim loved me."

    Her hands were trembling as she finished. She stared defiantly at the man
and woman who would have been her in-laws, but for Jim's untimely death.

    Jim Sr. finally spoke. "Rita, Dawn is right. She can do whatever she wants
with her life now, whether we approve or not, because Jimmy's gone." Before
his wife could answer, Jim Sr. turned to Dawn. "We are disappointed in you,
Dawn. We expected more of you. I'm sure you'll find that this is only a phase.
You'll come to your senses eventually. But smelling cigarette smoke in Jimmy's
apartment is upsetting. We raised him differently from the way you were
raised. That's all. We're not trying to start a fight here."

    "I appreciate your comments," Dawn began. "But you're wrong about one
thing. I don't know whether or not I'll decide to keep smoking. But I do know
it has nothing to do with the way I was raised. Neither of my parents smoked
while I was growing up. They didn't like it any more than you do. But I wasn't
raised the wrong way, and I'm not uneducated, either. I've got a college
degree. I just like to smoke cigarettes. There. I've said it. I smoke because
I like it. You're entitled to your opinions. You can think I'm stupid because
I smoke, but I won't let you criticize my family or my education. And by the
way, there are a lot of people in this country who smoke. They're not all
morons."

    Rita stood up. "Come on, James, let's go," she said dramatically. "There's
no point in continuing this discussion." She turned and pointed her finger at
Dawn. "But don't even suggest that my Jimmy would've permitted you to smoke in
his presence, young lady. He never would have married a woman who smokes."

    Dawn glared back. "I wish to God that Jim was still here to tell us both
what he'd say about that, _Mrs._ Black. But he's not. Get used to it. I've had
to." She turned away from them and folded her hands across her chest.

    Jim Sr. intervened again. "Dawn, please don't be angry. We're all dealing
with a lot of stuff right now. Rita's upset. Please don't blame her. Let's
forget about the smoking thing. But tell me, when would it be convenient for
us to start taking home Jimmy's stuff?" He was still trying to defuse the
confrontation.

    Turning around, Dawn smiled politely. "I am aware that almost everything
here was Jim's. Therefore, it's now yours. I'll start getting it ready as soon
as I can. If you want the stereo and the computer first, I'll have them packed
up for you by Saturday."

    "Thank you, Dawn," Jim Sr. answered quietly.

    "Look," Dawn went on. "I'll make arrangements to move out as soon as
possible. Without a roommate, I can't afford this apartment anyway. It makes
sense to move my stuff out and let you have everything else. I'll have the
specific things you want ready by Saturday."

    The Blacks awkwardly walked to the door. Rita finally held out her hand in
a conciliatory manner. "I'm sorry, Dawn," she admitted. "I lost my temper. I
know Jimmy loved you. And I'm sure you'll eventually come to your senses about
this smoking thing. My husband's right. It's probably only a phase. At least I
hope so, for your sake. Just please try to understand how this makes us feel,
especially given what we've been through recently."

    "I do, Rita," Dawn replied without emotion as she opened the door for
them. "Stop over after lunch on Saturday and I'll be ready for you." When
they'd agreed to do so, they were gone.

    "Oh God!" Dawn shouted when the door had closed. She rushed to the kitchen
and retrieved the ashtray from the cupboard. She dumped its contents in the
wastebasket and picked up her purse. Flopping onto the sofa, she got her
cigarettes and lighter from the purse.

    "God, do I need a cigarette!" she exclaimed. Without delay she clicked the
lighter and drew long and hard on the freshly burning cylinder. Frantically
she inhaled a mouthful of smoke and then immediately started the process
again. "God, yes!" she muttered in between her consecutive drags. Her nostrils
began releasing smoke from the first puff while she was completing her second
one. When she finally removed the cigarette from her hungry lips, she inhaled
deeply. Holding the smoke inside her lungs as long as she possibly could, at
the last possible second Dawn reluctantly began exhaling the smoke through
both her mouth and nose over several consecutive breaths.

    "Oh, that's better," she murmured in approval, as smoke continued to
escape from her mouth. Now more than ever, Dawn was convinced she'd never quit
smoking again! The relief she was experiencing from smoking this cigarette was
palpable and exquisite; almost sexual in nature! Despite what she'd said to
Jim's parents, she'd keep on smoking all right. There was no doubt. This was
just too good to ever willingly give up!

    Without first bothering to use the ashtray, she quickly returned the
cigarette to her eager mouth. Both Dawn's lips and her fingers supported it
while she sucked hard, and the cigarette delivered more precious smoke in the
process. The lengthening ash fell into her lap as she hit long and hard on the
cigarette, but Dawn didn't care enough to stop. She merely brushed the stray
ashes to the floor with her free hand. Finishing her third monster drag, she
finally set the cigarette in the ashtray while she brushed away the rest of
the ashes and inhaled the smoke as deeply as she possibly could.

    "Boy, did I need that!" she exclaimed, her lungs still full of smoke. She
refused to exhale, and slowly the smoke began trickling from her lips. This
time she refused to let it go. Instead, as it escaped she immediately
re-inhaled as much as she could.

    Her nerves were now beginning to return to normal. But Dawn continued
puffing rapidly until this cigarette was finished. Instead of crushing it out,
however, she grabbed her pack and quickly lit a second one from the cherry end
of the first cigarette. It was the first time Dawn could ever remember having
truly chain smoked. But somehow it seemed entirely appropriate under the
circumstances. She continued to hit long and hard on the second one. It was
heavenly!

    With her second cigarette almost a third gone, she began mulling over the
exchange with Jim's parents. "Assholes!" she said out loud. "Stupid
shit-heads," she added. Suddenly she looked up. "Sorry, God," she apologized
aloud with a wry smile. "I shouldn't say that. I'm sure they didn't mean to be
thoughtless. But they're being so mean, so unfair. They're the ones who are
acting like idiots. Not me."

    She paused for a more leisurely puff. Dawn was beginning to slow down now.
She thought about what they said. No, she reasoned. They're wrong. There are
millions and millions of people in this world who smoke, and they're not all
fools, whatever Jim's parents think about them. She smiled as she finally
exhaled again. Smoking may not be good for you. But yeah, lots of people still
smoke anyway, she mused. And I understand why!

    But she was still troubled. The real question remained unanswered. What
would Jim have thought about her smoking? And what would have been his
reaction if he saw her anxiously chain smoking like this? She blushed as she
realized how frantic she'd just been!

    She took another drag on her cigarette. After pausing to inhale, she
tipped her head back, pursed her lips and exhaled a tight stream of smoke
toward the ceiling. It was the first exhale from either of the two cigarettes
which she'd taken time to do with style, she realized. She was no longer
frantic, she decided, but smoking still tasted and felt incredibly good to her
as she inhaled and exhaled.

    "How would Jim have reacted? Well, I guess we'll never know the answer to
that question," Dawn shrugged as she crushed out her second cigarette. For a
brief moment she toyed with the idea of lighting up a third one, but finally
decided against it. "Time to fix something to eat," she told herself. She
headed for the kitchen.

    After dinner, she got out Jim's laptop and set it on the kitchen table.
She felt better having eaten, but she was still irritated with Jim's parents.
But she understood the problem. Despite the fight about smoking and whether
Jim would've approved, most of the stuff in the apartment now belonged to
them.. The furniture was all Jim's. So were the dishes and the linens. The TV,
the stereo, and everything else had been his. When she'd moved in with him
earlier this year, she'd brought only her own clothes, her desktop computer
and a very few other things. She hadn't wanted to think about it. But
eventually she'd have to move and get her own place. It was inevitable, and
she knew it. So they could have the stuff. It was theirs. That would mean
moving out sooner than she'd planned, but she could deal with that.

    But first things first. Jim's computer had a game on the hard drive which
she wanted. She decided to transfer it to her desktop computer. His parents
would never know the difference.

    As his computer booted up, Dawn sensed a familiar urge: She wanted to
smoke again. At first this urge surprised her; she thought her frantic smoking
before dinner would have satiated her. But apparently not. Despite her
surprise, she decided to give in.

    Despite the near ecstasy of her before dinner smoking experience, she
still felt guilty about smoking in the apartment. Because of Jim. His parents
were right about that. After all, it still felt like his place. It was
irrational, but she couldn't enjoy smoking here as much as she did other
places. She loved smoking in her car now. She was going to keep on smoking
there. It didn't bother her at all. Smoke breaks at work never made her feel
guilty, either. Smoking in restaurants had quickly become second nature. But
somehow, the apartment was still different.

    Maybe the discomfort will go away in time, she mused. She put the ashtray
on the kitchen table, lit up a cigarette, and sucked some smoke into her
lungs. As she inhaled, she leaned back in her chair, allowing her chest to
fully expand. She wanted to take the smoke in as deep as possible. Momentary
guilt feelings dissipated as nicotine worked its magic. She smiled as she
slowly exhaled twin streams of smoke from her nostrils. I'll get over it, she
told herself with a smile as she took a second drag, even longer than the
first.

    Before opening the game program, she remembered what Tina told her about
surfing the 'net for smoking sites. Was Tina telling the truth? she wondered.
Is there really stuff on the web that glamorizes smoking? Out of curiosity,
she decided to look.

    Dawn wasn't familiar with the internet program on Jim's computer. After
connecting the modem and before typing in a search request of her own, she
glanced at Jim's bookmarks.

    Most of them related to web-pages Jim had monitored because of his job.
Others were web-sites for sports teams he followed. But one other bookmark
caught Dawn's eye.

    "Smoking From All Sides," she read aloud. "What is that? Jim never smoked.
Why would he bookmark a page with a name like that?"

    Almost without thinking, Dawn clicked on the bookmark. From the shaded
entries on the page, she could see what sections Jim had previously visited.

    "Smoking Glamour?" she read aloud. She clicked again.

    Her cigarette was still burning in the ashtray. She picked it up, tapped
off the ashes, and instinctively raised it to her lips. She took a long, slow
drag while watching the screen change.

    It was a text-only page. No pictures. She scrolled down as she slowly
exhaled. Why had Jim marked this? Why had he visited these various shaded
sites? He wasn't a smoker? Was he?

    Strangely excited, Dawn quickly clicked on one of the marked pages. The
screen changed again, revealing a picture of a beautiful blond - who was
smoking a cigarette! "Smoking videos.... What the ....? Holy cow!" she
exclaimed. "I can't believe it! Jim?"

    She followed the shaded links to a second area Jim had obviously visited
before. The screen changed, again revealing pictures of beautiful women. More
pictures of beautiful women smoking!

    "My God!" she giggled. "Jim's mom would pee her pants if she saw this on
her son's computer!" The girls were good looking, and the way they were
pictured made their smoking seem incredibly sexy. Tina was right about that.
Done properly, smoking was sexy. Especially when you look like some of these
girls, she frowned.

    Dawn puffed again on her cigarette. God, it was suddenly so clear. Tina
was right. There are obviously lots of men who think female smoking is a
turn-on. But who would ever have suspected Jim was one of them? But there was
no doubting he was. Why hadn't he ever said anything to her about this? Why
had he kept it a secret?

    She browsed through the page's links. Jim had visited many of them. Dawn
was flabbergasted! She didn't know whether to be pleased or upset. Her heart
was pounding. She took one last puff on her cigarette. As usual, she inhaled
deeply, hoping the nicotine would help calm her down.

    Crushing her cigarette in the ashtray, she remembered that dream. The one
in which Jim was looking his laptop. In the dream he was smiling, looking at
her, looking at the screen on his computer, and smiling....

    Suddenly the meaning was clear. The dream is a sign, she decided. It must
be! A message from the other side that Jim did not disapprove of her smoking.
He liked smoking. He liked women who smoke! The incredible realization both
relieved her and made her sad. She was smoking, but he wasn't here to see it
or share it with her! Share it? Did Jim smoke, too? Or did he just admire
women who smoke? So far, there was no way to tell.

    The sites she'd seen had pictures. Pictures can be downloaded. Dawn
quickly searched the computer for saved gif or jpeg files. As she expected,
Jim had saved a number of pictures on the hard drive. Using the viewer, she
looked at each one. Women holding cigarettes, inhaling, exhaling.
Unbelievable!

    Finally she switched to the word processing program. She scrolled through
the titles of documents on the hard drive. Most of Jim's word processing files
were work related. But she found one called "smoke.ltr." Her hands trembled as
she clicked on it. It was indeed a letter. And it was addressed to her.

    Shaking, she reached for another cigarette. She lit up, and began to read:

    "Dearest Dawn:

    This letter is not intended to be sent. It's really more of a speech
outline for my own use, to help remind me of the things I want to tell you in
person. Someday when I have the guts I will. But I'm scared you'll think I'm
odd.

    Dawn, you used to smoke when you were a teenager. You've told me the
stories. I know you liked to smoke. I've thought about that fact ever since we
met.

    You won't believe this, but I'd like to see you try smoking once again. My
desire is completely selfish. I know smoking isn't good for you. But I wish
you'd at least try smoking again. At least occasionally. For me.

    I've always thought that girls who smoke cigarettes are extremely
attractive. I've felt that way as long as I can remember. Please don't be
judge me. And don't be jealous. It's true that I think all women who smoke are
sexy. But it's not other women I'm interested in. I'd love to see _you_
smoking because I love you so much. I've dreamed about you smoking; I've
imagined the sight of it hundreds of times. I imagine the sight of you
lighting up a cigarette, inhaling smoke into your lungs and exhaling it into
the air. The mere thought of it makes me weak! I'd give anything to see you
smoke, to see a big smile on your face, showing that you still enjoy the
pleasure it brings!

    You used to enjoy smoking, Dawn. Would you consider smoking again? For me?
Please say yes. I'd love nothing more than to watch you smoke. I promise we'll
make mad, passionate love, the likes of which we've never seen, if you'll
smoke for me. My desire for you will increase immeasurably if you'll indulge
this fantasy of mine."

    Dawn blinked. She couldn't believe it. Could Jim have written this? She
looked at the document history. Tears formed in her eyes. He worked on this
letter only two days before he died. She puffed on her cigarette. Sniffling,
she continued reading:

    I've dabbled with smoking myself, Dawn. But I've always been afraid to
admit my love for cigarettes. Maybe it's wicked. I don't know. I do know that
my family would never understand. They're fanatically against smoking. No one
knows about this. But I have to tell you how I feel because I'm going to spend
the rest of my life with you. You may think I'm crazy. But even if I am, I
only know that I'd love to share my love for smoking with you. Please think
about it. Would you be willing to smoke with me? For me. I hope so.

    I have to talk to you about this. I'm going to do it Thursday night after
work. I've made a promise to myself. I only pray that you won't hate me when I
tell you about it."

    The letter was unfinished. Dawn gasped. Thursday night was the night when
Jim's car .... It was the night Jim died.

    Sobbing openly now, she turned off the computer and stumbled from the
kitchen into the living room. She felt exhausted. She threw herself onto the
sofa. In one sense, she was pleased. Jim didn't mind her smoking. He liked it.
But at the same time she was upset. It seemed so unfair! How would she have
reacted if Jim had told her? She didn't know. She only wished that he was
still here. If he were, she'd be delighted to smoke for him, right now. She
sighed. And smoke _with_ Jim? She couldn't imagine that. But that's what the
letter said.
    /
    In a daze, almost unconsciously, Dawn walked back to the kitchen. With
trembling hands, she picked up her Marlboro Light 100's. She knew what she
needed. She needed another cigarette! She carefully placed a cigarette between
her lips and flicked her lighter. The flame caught and she sucked. Hard. Once.
Twice. Three times in a row. She inhaled, filling her lungs with smoke. Oh, it
felt so good! Nicotine was so dependable.

    Feeling better, Dawn finally smiled. "I have no reason to feel guilty
anymore," she said aloud. "Because Jim wouldn't care. He'd approve of me
smoking. He wanted to tell me." She took another long drag. "It _is_ like a
message from the other side," she decided. "It's okay. It's okay." She took
another drag. The smoke felt good as she sucked it into her lungs.

    She looked around the apartment. She smiled a sad smile as she watched
smoke slowly escape from her nostrils. No, she would never again feel guilty
about smoking in the apartment. Jim would have loved it. His parents were
wrong.

    Something inside of her wanted to tell them. She wanted to let them know
that their beloved Jimmy shared her love for cigarettes. But she knew she
mustn't. It had to remain her secret. She would erase all the bookmarks and
the pictures. And, of course, the letter.

    But the guilt was gone. She was finally free. Free to be herself. Free to
be a smoker. Free to smoke as much as she wanted, wherever she wanted, and
whenever she wanted. "Thank you, Jim," she whispered. "Thank you."

    Dawn took a long hit on her cigarette. She deeply inhaled the smoke into
her lungs, just as she always did, and then she tipped her head toward heaven.
"If you're watching, Joe, this one's for you," she said softly. She pursed her
lips and began a long, slow, luxurious exhale into the air. "Enjoy!" she
whispered, punctuating her words with trailing wisps of smoke. "Enjoy!"

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