Losing and winning, Part 1 | |
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Index by subject Smoking From All Sides ( Glamor - Pics | Female Celebrity Smoking List ) [ Printer friendly version ] Jump to part: 1 2 3 4 5 | |
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This fictional account contains adult language and themes. If such language and themes offend you, please do not read farther. Copyright 1999 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. LOSING AND WINNING 1. Standing By Your Man. Lynne Carlson glanced at the clock. It felt like she'd been working for hours. It was still only ten. She sighed. The library was dead! She'd helped only two people all morning. She liked working at the branch library's circulation desk. She had time to think. But sometimes that wasn't good. Today she'd been thinking too damn hard! She sighed. She was losing him. After sixteen years of marriage, she knew Tom's idiosyncrasies, and she'd seen the signs. He grew more distant by the day. Of course, he'd deny it. He'd blame work. He'd blame lack of time. Of course, Tom did work long hours. His small accounting firm was growing. He'd added two new employees this year. Income was up. Lynne never complained about the money he brought home. She liked driving her brand new Lexus. And at only 16, even their daughter Kate had a brand new car! Lynne liked providing these amenities for Kate. She'd have killed for a car at that age! No, Tom was very generous with them. That wasn't the problem. It was that his affections were elsewhere. Last night wasn't unusual. Lynne wanted sex, and gave Tom a seductive come-on. But he was "too tired." It shouldn't be that way. For God's sake, she was only 36. She looked good. She worked out, watched her weight and dressed well. Even Kate was proud of how her mom dressed. No, she looked damn good, and she knew it. Something was going on. She feared it was Tom's 'special interest' in women who smoke. He always said his special interest was "no big deal." But something was wrong. He'd never been this uninterested in sex. Maybe he _was_ seeing someone, someone who pandered to his fascination. Maybe it was a bigger deal than he admitted. Lynne pondered this while patrons passed the circulation desk. The thing that scared her was that there was that new girl at Tom's office, Kim Kettering, who .... "Excuse me," said an older man, interrupting her thoughts. "Can you help me?" "Certainly, sir," Lynne smiled politely, momentarily pulled back to reality. "What can I do for you?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Lynne and Stacie always took breaks together. Stacie Warden was the reference librarian. Their personalities were completely different. At 31, Stacie was younger than Lynne at 36. Lynne was quiet and reserved. Stacie was outgoing, almost hyper. Stacie was perky, bright and fun, always in motion. Lynne was passionless and analytical. Despite these differences, their friendship was important. They complemented each other. At eleven o'clock Stacie stopped at the circulation desk on her way to the break room. Her blue eyes and long blond hair shone. Stacie looked great, as always. Lynne knew she herself was attractive, but felt overshadowed by her lovely blond friend. In a word, Stacie was stunning. As Tom said, she was a "real babe." "Hey, lady," Stacie beamed. "Let's grab some coffee. Or, in your case, diet pop." "Okay," Lynne smiled back. "Let me call Edith. I'll tell her I'm ready for my break." As a rule, Edith took Stacie's place at the desk for breaks. Edith was a quiet, pleasant-brunette in her early forties. When she relieved Lynne, she and Stacie retreated to the break room. It was small, with a coffee pot, pop machine, refrigerator, microwave, and table with four chairs. The two women spent many hours there. They took breaks later than others, which meant fifteen minutes alone in the room each morning and afternoon. Stacie talked nonstop. Lynne was usually content to listen. She lacked Stacie's self-confidence. An unexpected pregnancy at age 19 interrupted college for Lynne. She dropped out and married Tom. That was 17 years ago. She never regretted her daughter's unplanned arrival, but she always wished she'd gotten a degree. At first, raising Kate was more important. By the time Kate reached middle school and Lynne could've gone back, she felt too old. So she settled for a desk job at the library. They didn't need the money. Tom's job provided more than enough. But she wanted to do something more than sit home watch television. She was smart. She was attractive. Her auburn hair matched her olive complexion. There was no reason to sit home. As soon as Kate could fend for herself after school, Lynne took her job at the library, to build self-confidence and be out in the world again. Stacie, on the other hand, needed the money. But she had two degrees and all the confidence in the world. She had a Masters in Library Science as well as an undergraduate psychology degree. Her long blond hair, quick wit and big smile made her a favorite with library patrons. Unlike Lynne, who was analytical and critical, Stacie was emotional, trusting and forgiving. In some ways, the two were an odd match. But because they balanced each other, they'd become inseparable. Today Stacie wore a cute blue blazer, a red turtleneck sweater and gray slacks. It looked great, but the outfit was too warm for May's weather. Lynne said so. "I know," Stacie smiled, her pretty blue eyes sparkling. She shook her long blond hair. "But I'm always cold." She took a sip of hot, black coffee. "God, this tastes good," she smiled. For Stacie, the glass was always half full. She launched a dissertation on office politics. Lynne didn't pay attention. "What's wrong?" Stacie asked with a sly smile. "Am I boring you?" "No," Lynne lied. "I've just got some stuff on my mind. That's all." "You think too much," Stacie grinned. Always in motion, she tapped her foot against the chair leg. "Go ahead, tell me your troubles. Let 'Dr. Warden' help." Of course, Stacie wasn't a doctor, but her psych degree made her an armchair psychologist. "What's up?" "It's Tom," Lynne replied. "He's so cold. He never wants to have sex anymore." "Sometimes that's a blessing," Stacie said smugly. "Just kidding," she added, seeing Lynne's long face. "Do you think there's another woman?" Stacie loved scandal. "Yeah, I do.. I have to do something." She looked at the floor. "I need help. This is very personal. You can't repeat a word of this to anyone. Swear?" "Cross my heart," Stacie smiled. "If I know you, Lynne Carlson, you've already analyzed the situation - to death!" "You're right," she replied, with a deep breath. "Three months ago, Tom hired a new girl at the office. Her name is Kim Kettering. She's a cute blond, about twenty-five, and skinny as a Hollywood model." She paused for dramatic effect. "I think they're having an affair." Lynne awaited a response. Stacie said nothing. Lynne continued. "I don't have proof, but he's been working late nights." She sipped her diet pop. "In tax season, he always does. But it's May, and he still works late. The other night I called the office and Kim answered. The little bitch was with him at ten o'clock at night!" "That's not good," Stacie agreed. "But maybe they weren't alone. Maybe Tom's partner was there. Or someone else. Hey, Kate's working part-time there. What does she say?" "That's a delicate issue," Lynne frowned. "Yeah, Kate works for Tom after school and on Saturdays. But I can't ask my daughter if her dad is screwing the other office help!" "Good point," Stacie nodded. She played with her long blond hair, twirling it between her fingers. "But if something obvious is going on, Kate would blow the whistle. Wouldn't she?" Lynne smiled. "I guess. I don't know. Kate and Tom are pretty tight. Sometimes I think she likes her dad more than she likes me. He's easier on her than I am. But that's another story." "Right," Stacie agreed. "Anyway, you said you had a plan." Lynne hesitated. "Yeah. But it's complicated. You see, Kim smokes." "So?" Stacie shrugged. "Despite tobacco's bad press these days, lots of people smoke." Lynne shifted uncomfortably. "Tom told me something strange about himself after we got married. He told me ...." Her voice trailed off. "Come on," Stacie said gently. "It can't be that bad. What?" "Women who smoke attract him," she whispered. Stacie didn't flinch. Lynne went on. "I'd never heard of such a thing. He was apologetic. He said it was an issue for him, but he was fighting it. He just didn't want me upset if I noticed him watch women smoke. It didn't mean anything, he said. He just can't help staring at a pretty woman who smokes." "God! How did that make you feel?" "Scared," Lynne replied. "Smoking frightens me. It always has. You know what I mean? Like, bad guys in movies are always the ones who smoke. I told Tom it scared me. I suggested he get help, see a counselor or something. He didn't want to. He just wanted me to understand and not take it personally." She sipped more diet pop. "I didn't know what to say." She took a deep breath and continued. "I asked if he wanted me to smoke. He said no. He just wanted me to understand. That was it." She paused. "We never discussed it again. I've asked him over the years how he's doing with his 'special interest.' He always says, just fine. But I'm not sure." She paused. "I think that's what's going on at his office. I think Tom likes Kim 'cause she smokes. I'm afraid he's drawn to her like a moth to the flame." Stacie nodded. "Men are complicated sexual animals. They're visually stimulated when it comes to sex, much more than women. Technically, Tom's attraction is a fetish, an association between an inanimate object and sexual impulse. He may be attracted to her because she smokes. But it's not unusual for men Tom's age to be tempted by other women. After all, didn't he just turn 40?" Lynne gave her a look, but Stacie laughed and shrugged if off. "Look, it's normal. Tom's in mid-life. All men ogle. Some fool around. I've even seen Bill ogle other women. God knows, _he_ has no reason to be tempted!" She laughed, picking at her long blond hair. "That's different. You and Bill aren't married." Stacie smiled ruefully. "No, we're not. But even in a committed relationship, men are tempted by infidelity. You have to deal with that. But you're damn attractive, Lynne. You're a good looking brunette. You've got a great body. You can compete with this Kim person." She shook her head. "Not if she smokes. Last month, I stopped by the office. After saying hi to Kelly, his receptionist, I walked to Tom's office. I smelled smoke, although they made the entire office non-smoking years ago. Well, Tom was standing by Kim Kettering's desk, shooting the breeze. She was smoking, and I swear to you Tom was having an erection. I don't think Kim saw. But I did. Tom's hands were in his pockets, hiding the fact that ....." "That his dick was saluting?" Stacie smiled. "Yeah," Lynne whispered. "I mean, shit! Pardon my language, but I couldn't believe it! That night I asked Tom about their no-smoking policy. He said they'd recently rescinded it because of Kim. She asked to smoke at her desk, says she's more productive when she smokes. But I think Tom likes what her smoking produces in his pants." "Did you ask him about his cock?" Stacie asked. "No," she admitted. "I should've, but I was embarrassed. I'm sure that's what's happening. He works late every night. I smell smoke on his clothes. It's even on his breath. Either he's kissing Kim, or he's smoking, too. I'm not sure which is worse. He's with that smoking blond bimbo every night!" "Hey, be careful with the blond bimbo remarks," Stacie teased, fluffing her blond hair. "What are you going to do? Give him an ultimatum? Confront him?" "No," Lynne said slowly. "I have to fight fire with fire. I'll learn to smoke. I won't lose him to some stupid blond just because she smokes and I don't!" Stacie looked alarmed. She shook her head. "Don't do it, Lynne. Don't start smoking. It's incredibly tough to quit once you start. Believe me, I know." "How would you know?" Lynne asked. "Did you ever smoke?" "Yeah," Stacie replied gravely. "I smoked throughout college. My freshman roommate smoked. I thought it would be cool to try smoking cigarettes. Oh, it was cool, all right. It was so damn cool that, before I knew it, I was addicted! I went through hell trying to quit. Don't go down that road, Lynn. Believe me. Smoking isn't something you just try. You've heard that tobacco is addicting? Well, trust me on this one. It sure is!" "Gosh, I never knew you smoked," Lynne said a strange smile. "When did you stop?" "I quit when I started library school. No one I knew in the M.L.S. program smoked. I felt so fucking stupid - pardon my French - sneaking outside to smoke all the time. It was the hardest thing I've ever done!" She smiled solemnly. "I haven't had a cigarette in six years." "Wow," Lynne exclaimed. "I had no idea. But this is great. You can help me." Stacie frowned. "What do you mean? What kind of help do you want?" "None of my friends smoke. I've never tried it. My parents smoked when I was a kid, but they quit when I was five. I barely remember it. I'm not used to being around smokers. I can't imagine Tom smoking. Blech! It doesn't appeal to me. It scares me that Tom finds it attractive. But unless I do it, I'll lose him. So I need someone to coach me, to show me how to smoke." "Oh, no," Stacie interrupted. "I know what you're going to suggest. I can't. I won't. No fuckin' way." "Sure you can, Stacie. I just need help getting started. That's all. A quick primer, a lesson to get going. I'm afraid to try it alone." She batted her long eyelashes. "Please?" "Lynne, you don't understand." Stacie's face became paler by the second. "If I lit up just one cigarette, I might .... God, I might not be able to stop. I can't afford to, even once." "Relax," Lynne smiled. "I'm not asking that," she explained patiently. "Just coach me. For example, you could suggest what brand I should try. That sort of thing." Stacie shook her head. "Lynne, this is a mistake. You're upset. But smoking isn't the answer. Don't mortgage your health. Don't compete with Kim on this. You're not even sure what his attraction to her is based on. Hell, you don't even know there is an attraction! It may just be a harmless little fetish." "Oh, he's attracted to her all right," Lynne replied calmly. "It isn't a harmless fetish. Tom won't have sex with me, but he gets an erection watching her smoke. Shit! I have to do something. Confronting him won't work. He'll deny it. I must take the offensive. If Tom sees me smoke, he'll ask why. I'll say I did it to please him. See? It's better than accusing him of being unfaithful. I want to steal him back, not drive him away." Stacie thought. "You're right about that," she admitted. "Men don't like preaching. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar." She smiled and nodded. "Okay. I'll be a coach. But I'm not demonstrating, and I'm not endorsing. I think it's a mistake. If you get hooked and die of lung cancer, don't blame me." Lynne smiled. "I won't blame you. I just want your help. You never need to even touch a cigarette. Don't worry. I'm not scared of the health thing. I'll only smoke recreationally to arouse Tom's interest. I'm not planning on getting hooked or anything, for God's sake." "That's what they all say," Stacie sighed, twirling her blond hair between her fingers at a rapid rate. "Okay. When do you want to do this?" "How about tonight, after work?" Lynne answered. She was excited now. "Let's meet at Robinson's Bistro at six fifteen. Tell Bill you're meeting me for a drink. I don't expect Tom home for dinner. And Kate can fend for herself." Stacie sighed. "I hope you know what you're doing." She glanced at her watch. "Oh, Christ, we should get back to work!" She grabbed her friend's hand. "I'll see you at Robinson's at six fifteen. Here's what you do. Stop at the store on your way and buy a pack of Salem Lights 100's and a disposable lighter. Got that? Do you want to write it down?" "No, I'll remember," Lynne smiled serenely. "Okay, six fifteen. Be there. I'll show you what to do. But that's all." "Thanks, Stacie. You'll help save my marriage." "I hope so," Stacie sighed. "I hope so." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- By twenty after six, Lynne was nervous. There were no empty tables in the bar. She made an executive decision and secured a table in the dining room's smoking section. The hostess, a young girl no older than Kate, didn't seem to care if they ordered dinner or just had drinks. The table had a clear line of sight to the front entrance, so she could see Stacie come in. Robinson's Bistro was a popular bar and eatery five minutes from the library. Lynne and Stacie occasionally ate lunch there. Lynne had never been in the smoking section. It was smaller than the non-smoking area. Otherwise, the two rooms were identical, except for the rectangular, gold glass ashtray on each table in the smoking section. Lynne was strangely excited as she looked at it. This would be an adventure, she decided, sipping her Diet Coke. She bought the cigarettes. Salem Lights 100's, like Stacie said. She got them from her purse and gazed at the green and white package. The girl at the convenience store hardly looked old enough to sell them. Lynne asked for Salem Lights 100's, and the girl asked, "Box or soft pack?" Lynne didn't know. She said "Soft pack." Without hesitation, the girl handed her these. She was relieved. She'd done it. Buying a disposable lighter was more difficult. The checkout counter was surrounded by an assortment of plastic lighters in different colors. One was more expensive than the others. The package said "turbo." She didn't know what it meant. But paying too much was better than paying too little. She was never one to skimp. So she bought a navy blue "turbo" lighter. Just before six thirty, Stacie burst through the door. Her eyes surveyed the bar. She noticed Lynne in the smoking section. Waving, Stacie bounced across the room. "Sorry I'm late," she gasped. "At the last minute a patron wanted books about the civil war." She saw the Salems. "Oh my God," she shook her head. "You did it, didn't you?" Lynne grinned. "Yes, I did. I told you. I'm serious about this." Before Stacie sat, the waitress arrived to take drink orders. Stacie asked for a glass of Chablis, while Lynne got a second Diet Coke. Lynne rarely drank. Alcohol affected her a lot. Her mother had warned about her family's history of alcohol problems. "Addictive personalities" was the term her mother used. As she thought about it, Lynne remembered her mother also once gave the same warning about smoking. Her mother confessed that smoking affected her in the same way. Lynne's analytical mind considered what this meant for the experiment at hand. She decided to disregard it. She had to do it, despite the risks. The women talked about nothing while awaiting their drinks. Stacie nervously twirled strands of her long hair. She was ready to begin her lesson. "Okay. If you're going to smoke, take it real easy," she said nervously. "Don't inhale." "Explain what you mean," Lynne interrupted, finishing her Diet Coke. "I mean, puff gently on the cigarette, but don't breath in. You get sick if you inhale too much or too soon. Most smokers eventually inhale. Avoid it as long as you can. Inhaling leads to addiction. Suck lightly on it; let the smoke fill your mouth without breathing it in your lungs." "Okay," Lynne nodded. "I can do that." The waitress arrived with the drinks. Stacie took a sip of her Chablis. She was nervous. It showed. "Can I smoke now?" Lynne asked eagerly. "I'm nervous." Stacie raised the wine glass to her lips a second time. "Me, too," she giggled, after a long sip. "Okay. Go ahead. Light up a cigarette!" To Stacie, the words sounded strange. She spoke those words frequently six years earlier; they were words she hadn't thought about for a long time. Lynne tried to unwrap the pack. After fumbling for several seconds, Stacie interrupted. Taking the pack, she pulled away the silver paper and exposed the all-white cigarettes. She tapped the pack on her wrist. Seeing Lynne's quizzical look, Stacie smiled sheepishly. "It's to pack down the cigarettes," she explained. "It makes them smoke better." She shrugged. "Force of habit. A very old habit," she smiled. Lynne took the pack and pulled out a cigarette. "I assume this was your old brand?" "Yes," Stacie admitted, looking surprised. "Salems. How did you know?" "Lucky guess." She placed the cigarette in her mouth and reached for the lighter. Stacie watched with amusement. Lynne couldn't work the child-proof lock. "May I?" she asked. Stacie took the lighter from Lynne's fingers and clicked the button. A flame shot into the air. "This is a nice one," she commented as she held the flame. "It's more expensive than your basic Bic." Stacie leaned forward as the flame burned. "Suck gently when it touches the cigarette," she said clinically. "It draws the flame into the tobacco, giving you a good, even light." Lynne did. Her mouth filled with smoke. It tasted neither good nor bad. It was just ... there. She blew it out. "Wow," she gulped. "I did it!" "You sure did," Stacie agreed. There was a strange interest in her voice. "How is it?" "Okay," Lynne answered slowly, looking at the burning cigarette in her hand. Smoke slowly wafted up to the ceiling. A slight breeze in the room moved the smoke toward Stacie. "It isn't as bad as I thought," Lynne decided. "That's good, I guess," Stacie smiled hesitantly. She seemed unsure. "Go ahead. Try sucking on it again." Lynne put the cigarette in her mouth and gently puffed. "This is easy," she thought happily. She blew smoke from her mouth. The air current again carried the ambient smoke in Stacie's direction. "You're doing fine. You don't need help," Stacie smiled. "Frankly, I hoped you wouldn't like it. I hoped you'd get disgusted and give up the whole foolish idea." "I can't," Lynne frowned. "But it's not bad," she said hopefully. "I'm encouraged." Lynne remembered the warning about inhaling. But she wanted to try it. Spurred on by how easy it was, she decided to inhale on her next puff. "I won't tell Stacie," she mused. "I'll just do it. If I ask, she won't let me. She's afraid I'll get hooked. But how bad can it be?" She found out. She took a more protracted drag. Without any warning, she quickly pulled the smoke down directly into her lungs. Undiluted by air, the wave of thick smoke hit her virgin lungs like a ton of bricks. Surprised by the strong, unexpected sensation, she gasped. The gasp made her choke, and choking altered the rhythm of her diaphragm. She began to cough. The coughing became uncontrollable. Within moments she was literally gasping for air. Stacie realized what had happened. Lynne was gasping, alternating choking sounds and violent coughing. Her eyes were full of tears and her nose was running. Instinctively, she raised her hands. When she did, the lit cigarette fell from her fingers onto the table. "Oh, my God! Oh, shit!" Stacie exclaimed. "Are you okay?" Lynne nodded half-heartedly. She tried to talk, but then coughed, much harder. She was turning pale from lack of oxygen. Stacie slid into the chair next to her. She saw the burning cigarette on the table. Instinctively, she picked it up and put it between her fingers so it wouldn't burn the tablecloth. "You poor kid," Stacie sighed compassionately, sizing up the situation. "Lean forward. Put your hands over your head." Leaning forward, Stacie reasoned, will let her catch her breath. To help Lynne lean, Stacie had to use her hands - but her right hand held the cigarette. Later, Stacie wondered why she hadn't put the cigarette in the ashtray. But it never occurred to her in that critical moment. Instead, almost without thinking, she placed it firmly between her lips. That freed her hands to steady Lynne's still convulsing body. "There, there. Relax, honey," Stacie urged, with the cigarette dangling from her mouth. "You'll be okay. Try to breathe, honey, slow and deep. That's it." Holding Lynne with both hands, she breathed rhythmically along with her, taking slow, deliberate, deep breaths. Slowly, Lynne began to recover. The two women breathed in sync for several moments. The slow, deep, rhythmic breathing delivered to Stacie an unintended side effect. The burning cigarette was between her lips as she breathed. The slow, deep, rhythmic breaths pulled some of the smoke into her lungs. She wasn't consciously inhaling; she didn't mean to. But her lungs nevertheless responded. She suddenly realized what she was doing. There was a cigarette in her mouth, just like the old days. She was sucking smoke into her chest, just like the old days. And just like the old days, she was talking and breathing while the cigarette dangled. "Oh, my God," she giggled. It was almost like smoking! It made her feel strangely relaxed, really, almost refreshed. "Damn, it tastes good when I breath that smoke in and out," she told herself with a smile. She knew she should remove it and crush it out in the ashtray. Quickly. But suddenly, Stacie wanted something else. She wanted to take a real drag! Just one! "No!" she admonished herself. "I can't afford to." The burning cigarette still dangled from her lips. The smoke tasted so fuckin' good! Oh, what the hell, she rationalized. One little drag wouldn't hurt! Convinced by her own logic, she closed her lips around the cigarette and brought her fingers to her mouth, making a "V" around it as she took a deep, long, slow drag. The cherry end of the cigarette burned bright as she pulled. The moment was electric; the taste incredible! She removed the cylinder from her lips and deeply inhaled smoke into her hungry lungs. Her body welcomed the smoke like an old friend. It was like a homecoming. She smiled and held the smoke inside. God, she felt good! Lynne's voice brought her back to reality. "Hey, I thought you weren't going to do that," she said, having recovered from her distress. In reply, Stacie slowly exhaled twin streams of smoke from her nostrils. The smile on her lips betrayed her true feelings. She was ecstatic! "Oh, I'm not smoking," she lied. She started to put the cigarette in the ashtray. That's where she should've put it in the beginning. Then she paused. With a guilty smile, she returned the cigarette to her greedy lips. "I'll just have one more drag," she said meekly. There was nothing meek about it. Stacie's cheeks hollowed. She sucked long and hard on the Salem. She pulled the smoke deep into her famished lungs. She tipped her head and directed a stream of smoke toward the ceiling before she handed the cigarette back to Lynne. "This is yours," Stacie smiled with strange satisfaction. She finished her exhale. "God, it has been so fuckin' long since I've had a cigarette! Damn! That was nice!" Lynne frowned. "I'm not sure I want this now," she said. She awkwardly tried crushing it in the ashtray. "I feel sick. I don't think I want to smoke anymore." Stacie watched Lynne crush it out. Something deep inside urged her ... no, screamed at her ... to rescue the cigarette. But reason prevailed. She did nothing. "I warned you not to inhale," she chided, mournfully watching the extinguished cigarette smolder in the ashtray. "I said you'd get sick." "God, did I!" Lynne agreed. She was white as a sheet. She sipped her Diet Coke, but it only increased her queasiness. "Oh, I feel terrible," she moaned. "Let me get you water, honey," Stacie suggested, looking for the waitress. "Don't drink more soda. Just breathe. You'll be okay in a minute. I promise. Breathe deep! Try to relax!" Stacie got a glass of water from the waitress' station. After a few sips, Lynne felt better. "God, take those things out of my sight," she urged, pointing at the pack of Salems. "If I never see another cigarette, it'll be too soon!" Stacie paused. "I'll throw them out," she nodded, dropping them in her purse. "I warned you. But you wouldn't believe me. You learned your lesson." Lynne's face reflected disappointment in the failed experiment. "Don't worry," Stacie added. "You'll find a way to regain Tom's affection. Smoking isn't a good idea for you; or for anyone." "Maybe you're right," Lynne nodded. "It was a stupid idea!" Stacie answered with a strange smile. "It sure was," she agreed. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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