Nic At Night, Part 2

This fictional account contains adult language and themes.  If such language
and themes offend you, please do not read further.  The persons and events
described in this work are purely fictional.  Any similarity to actual persons
or events is strictly coincidental.  Copyright 2001 by SSTORYMAN.  All rights
reserved.  Permission is hereby 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.

NIC AT NIGHT

2.	"What's Happening to Me?"

   Kelly blinked her eyes and stared at the ceiling.  Her mouth was dry.  She
licked her lips.  Her tongue felt dried out, dry as a bone!  She pushed back
her covers and swiveled her feet over the edge of the bed.  She shivered.
Someone opened the windows.  It must have been her mom.  It was chilly.  She
reached for her robe and stumbled to the bathroom for a drink of water.

   Not only was her mouth dry, she realized, but it tasted funny.  It tasted
terrible!  As she drank some water, she also realized her breath smelled bad.
She smelled like smoke!  She assumed it was from spending last night working
in the smoky restaurant.  Staggering back to bed, she became conscious of the
fact that the smell of smoke was more pervasive.  Everything in her room
smelled like stale cigarette smoke; her nightgown, her hair, even her bed
covers!

   She looked at the clock.  It was seven thirty.  God, it was late.  She'd
slept hard!  And she still wasn't fully awake.  Her mom was leaving for work
soon.  She headed down the stairs to find Karen sitting in the kitchen.  She
was smoking a cigarette!

   "Mom!  What are you doing?"

   Karen was dressed for work and reading the paper.  "Good morning,
sleepyhead.  You were impossible to wake up this morning.  I'm leaving for
work soon, you know."

   "I know.  But what are you doing?  You agreed not to smoke in the house
anymore."

   Karen smiled condescendingly.  "No, I didn't.  I never said I wouldn't
smoke in the house.  I said I'd try to cut down, honey.  But I can't.  It's
just too fuckin' hard.  I figured you wouldn't mind if I had just one
cigarette with my coffee before work."

   "Well, I _do_ mind," the girl muttered angrily.  She went to the
refrigerator to pour some orange juice.  When she sat down at the table, she
saw her mother had already put a cup of coffee at her place.  "Mom, what is it
about you and coffee?"

   "You should learn to enjoy it, dear.  It has no calories and tastes great,
once you get used to it.  C'mon, give it a try."

   Kelly blinked her eyes.  "This isn't the first cigarette you've had, is it?
I mean, my room stinks this morning.  You were smoking in the house last
night, weren't you, Mom?"

   Karen smiled.  "Honey, I told you, it's awfully hard to smoke outside,
especially when it's so chilly at night.  Darling, cut me some slack."  She
took a long drag and inhaled the smoke.  There was a strange twinkle in her
eye, like she knew a delicious secret she wasn't telling.  "Now don't forget;
you're babysitting for Mrs. Sutton today."

   "I remember," Kelly agreed, still groggy.  She put the hot coffee cup to
her lips and took a sip.  It was easier to give in and drink it than to argue.
"I have to be there at ten thirty."

   "Right," Karen said, finishing her cigarette and crushing it in the
ashtray.  "And don't forget your summer reading program.  I want you to make
some real progress this week."

   In the fall Kelly would be a sophomore.  Karen was obsessed with having her
read all summer, so she'd eventually do well on the PSAT, the SAT, and maybe
even get advanced placement college credit when the time came.  "The next book
on your list is "The Catcher in the Rye" by J. D. Salinger.  Right?"

   Kelly nodded.  "Right," she sighed.  "I'll start it before going to
Denise's."  Denise Sutton was the lady she was babysitting for.  She lived
down the street.

   "And then tonight you have to be at work at five thirty again, right?"

   Kelly nodded.  "Right."

   "I'll pick you up at five twenty.  You'll be at Giovanni's by five thirty.
Make sure you're ready when I get here.  Like yesterday.  Okay?"

   "Yes, Mom, okay," Kelly replied, a bit exasperated.  "I'm not a child, you
know.  I'm almost an adult.  I can handle these things."

   "And that's why you can drink coffee," Karen shot back.  "And that's why
you'll cut me some slack about smoking, right?"

   Kelly sighed.  "It's not good for you, Mom.  Or for me.  That's because . .
. ."

   "I know, I know, second hand smoke.  But you know what?  I found something
on the Internet you'll find interesting."  She opened her purse and handed her
some photocopied pages.  "I printed this off the 'net.  It's the _real_
evidence about second hand smoke.  This article says it's not as bad as you
think."

   Kelly frowned as she leafed through the pages.  "What is this?"

   "It's a summary of a 1996 court decision by a federal judge in a lawsuit
about whether the EPA could ban second-hand smoke because it's dangerous.
Read it.  It's fascinating.  The judge said the EPA ignored statistical
evidence when it tried to regulate second-hand smoke.  The article quotes the
Wall Street Journal and even the judge himself.  I guess the approach by the
EPA was a crock of shit, and the judge said so."

   "Mom, don't talk like that."

   Karen smiled.  "Kelly, I'm only calling a spade a spade.  Read the article.
Second-hand smoke isn't so dangerous after all.  The article says it's a
government conspiracy, and that it's more dangerous to ride in traffic than to
be around second-hand smoke all day."

   Kelly shook her head.  "Mom, this is just some pro-smoking propaganda
piece."

   "Read it," she repeated.  "The facts are different from what you were told
at school.  That's why I've decided; I won't keep going outside to smoke.
There's nothing to worry about, honey.  You'll see when you read the article."
She looked at her watch.  "I've got to go."  She kissed her daughter on the
forehead.  "Have a good day.  I'll pick you up at five twenty."

   Kelly read the article as she finished her coffee.  She hated to admit it,
but her mom was right about the coffee thing.  She _did_ enjoy it.  After
weeks of nagging and drinking it only to make her happy, she had to admit it
was growing on her.  It wasn't bad, not at all.

   The second-hand smoke article troubled her.  Obviously her mom was mounting
a new offensive to smoke in the house again.  Well, Kelly wouldn't give ground
easily.  She intended to keep after her mom about the smoking thing.

   But the article was thought-provoking, and its allegations were serious.
The scientific evidence was ambiguous.  At least, that's what the judge said.
She finally put the article aside and picked up "The Catcher in the Rye."
She'd deal with her mom and smoking later.  Right now she'd read for a couple
hours before going to her babysitting job.

   At ten thirty she walked to the Suttons.  Kelly began baby-sitting for
Denise's little boy a couple weeks earlier.  Denise was a waitress at a five
star restaurant.  After Justin was born, her husband wanted her to stay home,
but she insisted on working lunches.  The tips were too good, even at lunch,
and Denise liked the extra spending money.

   Denise and Sam were from New York.  They were unlike anyone Kelly knew.
Denise was straightforward and outgoing.  Her personality was "in your face"
and "tell it like it is."  She was no Midwesterner.  She was a classic, brassy
New Yorker.  But Kelly liked that.  Denise was also young, twenty five, and
very pretty.  She insisted Kelly call her "Denise," not "Mrs. Sutton," which
further endeared her to the youngster.  Kelly liked and admired Denise.  She
spoke her mind, stood up to her husband, and was witty, pretty and funny.

   "Hi, Denise," she said as the tall, dark-haired woman answered the door.
"Is Justin up?"

   "He's napping," Denise said, adjusting her work uniform and winking.  "His
lunch is in the fridge.  He'll wake up in an hour or so.  Do the usual.  Play
with him, read to him, feed him, put him in his swing.  He likes that.  If he
gets fussy, put him down for a nap after two.  I should be back a little after
two thirty."

   "Did you know I started working last night?"

   "You did?  God, that's right!  Damn!  Honey, I'm _so_ proud of you!  That's
great.  I bet you loved it."  She noticed the book in Kelly's hands.  "Hey.
What are you reading?"

   Kelly blushed and handed her the book.  "The Catcher in the Rye.  I'm doing
extra reading this summer.  Mom insists.  You know, to start early on college
prep."

   "You're amazing, Kelly," Denise laughed.  She saw a sheaf of papers stuck
in the paperback.  "What's this?"

   Kelly froze.  She'd used the second-hand smoke article as her bookmark.
She was embarrassed.  "Oh, nothing," she mumbled.  "Just something my mom gave
me to read."

   Denise skimmed the article.  She whistled.  "Holy shit," she muttered.
"Pardon my language, but this is great stuff!  Where'd your mom get this?"

   Kelly sat down.  "From the Internet.  What's so great about it?"

   Denise kept scanning.  "Can I take it to work and make a copy?  I'd love to
have this."

   "Sure, I guess.  But what's so interesting?  It's just an article about
second-hand smoke."

   Denise smiled.  "You don't get it, Kelly.  Sam and I've been arguing about
this since Justin was born.  He doesn't want me smoking in the house.  He
thinks second-hand smoke is bad for the baby.  But this is the evidence I've
been looking for.  It proves second-hand smoke's not so bad.  I gotta show it
to Sam."

   Kelly's face fell.  "Do you smoke, Denise?"

   "Oh yeah, sure," came the forthright reply.  "Doesn't everybody?"  She
smiled.  "Look, honey, every waitress I've ever known smokes, or at least, she
did once and wishes she still did."

   "I've never seen you smoke, Denise.  It doesn't smell like smoke in your
house."

   "Sam won't let me smoke inside with Justin.  Oh no, Kelly, I smoke all the
time.  You should see the butts on my back porch."  She saw the disappointment
on the teen's face.  "Don't tell me you're surprised?  I see your mom smoking
on your back porch at night.  You're used to being around smokers.  What's the
problem?"

   "I'm trying to talk my mom into quitting.  I worry about her."

   "Kelly, I like your mom.  And I like you."  She playfully jabbed the
teenager in the side.  "Don't make the mistake of preaching at her.  It won't
work.  It never does.  Your mom likes to smoke, like me.  There's no way
she'll quit.  I know her type.  She'll smoke till the day she dies.  Me, too.
It's just how it is with us."  She smiled.  "And now that you're a waitress,
Miss Kelly, pretty soon you'll try it, too.  It happens.  Trust me.  Sooner or
later, every waitress gets stressed out and has to try a cigarette.  You'll
see," she added with a laugh.  "Then you'll understand."  She paused.  "I'm
not trying to get you to smoke or anything.  I'm just saying that eventually
you'll see for yourself what I'm talking about."

   Kelly shook her head.  "I think you're wrong, Denise.  I don't think I want
to smoke."

   Denise smiled.  "You know, I said the same thing at your age.  At fourteen
I was sure I'd never smoke, ever.  My parents and their friends smoked.  But I
wasn't going to be like them.  No sir!  I was sure."  From her purse she took
a pack of Marlboro Lights 100's.  "See what happened?  I joined them after
all!"  She opened the front door, put a cigarette in her mouth, and lit up.
"All this talk about smoking makes me want one," she explained, exhaling a
long stream of smoke.  "All I'm saying is, don't make promises to yourself you
can't keep.  Maybe you'll never smoke, Kelly.  Then again, maybe you will.
But I bet you'll want to try it sooner or later.  Just see what happens.  In
the meantime, don't be so tough on your mom."  She waved.  "Take care of
Justin.  I'll bring your article back after making a copy at work.  Thanks."

   "You're welcome," Kelly called out, but Denise was already gone.  She
peered out the front window.  The woman she so admired was smoking, just like
her mom.  Kelly sighed.  It seemed like almost everyone she'd come in contact
with since the summer began smoked!

   Her time with Justin went well.  The nine month old was good as gold.
Kelly loved reading to him and playing with him.  She put him down for another
nap a little after two.  By the time Denise returned, at two forty-five, he
was fast asleep again.

   "God, I had a good day," Denise smiled, returning the second-hand smoke
article to her babysitter.  "Lots of tip money."  She handed Kelly a wad of
bills.  "So here's your share."

   "Gosh, thanks, Denise."  As she counted her money, she noticed the strong
smell of smoke on Denise's clothes, stronger than usual.  "Did you make your
copy of the article?"

   "Oh yes, I did, and thanks.  I read it in the break room.  I shared it with
the other girls.  All of 'em made copies.  Even my manager wanted one.  It was
a big hit!"

   The youngster paused.  "Is it really true what you said, Denise?  I mean,
do all waitresses smoke?"

   Denise laughed.  "You work at Giovanni's.  What did _you_ see?"

   Kelly thought a minute.  "All the servers at Giovanni's seem to smoke.  I
never thought about it.  Even Crystal, the owner's daughter, smokes.  And
she's only my age, fifteen."

   Denise nodded.  "Like I said, Kelly, no surprise.  I started smoking about
your age.  Actually, I was younger.  I'm not saying it's a good thing.  But I
_am_ saying it's not as terrible as everyone tries to make you think.  Go
home, read the article again, kid.  Go easy on your mom.  Don't give her shit
about her smoking.  It ain't worth it.  Trust me."

   "Okay," she agreed.  She respected Denise's opinion.  "I'll try to be nicer
to Mom.  Maybe I have been a little rough on her.  Thanks, Denise.  And thanks
for the money."

   "Don't mention it, kid," laughed the New Yorker.  "My pleasure.  You earned
it.  And thanks for taking care of Justin.  I'll see you again tomorrow
morning."

   Kelly couldn't stop thinking about what happened.  Denise smoked all the
time.  That was weird; Denise seemed so nice.  Of course, her mom was nice,
too, and she smoked.  So was Sue Ann, and she smoked.  Even Crystal smoked,
and she was nice.  At school Kelly was told, at least it was implied, that
smokers were bad people.  But maybe there was no connection between the two.
Lots of smokers were super nice.  Putting aside 'The Catcher in the Rye,' she
re-read the second-hand smoke article, more carefully this time.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Kelly's second night at work went better than her first.  She knew the
routine, which was good, because the restaurant was busy.  She stood at the
hostess stand in her white tank-top and black skirt, and confidently ferried
people to tables, keeping the servers' sections balanced.  Crystal helped her
hostess when things got really busy, splitting her time working as a runner,
carrying food to the tables, and as back-up at the hostess stand.

   At seven thirty Kelly took her break.  The crowd was thinning, and Crystal
took over the hostess stand so Kelly could go to the break room.  She was glad
to get off her aching feet.  She took her book to read.  While she was there,
Gretchen came in.  Gretchen was a server who was a college student.  She was a
pretty blond.  She wore the same white tank-top, short black skirt and heels.
Gretchen took out a pack of cigarettes and lit up.  She looked at Kelly.
"Hey, Kelly, how's it going?"  After she nodded politely, Gretchen held out
her pack.  "Want one?"

   Kelly smiled and motioned to her book.  "No thanks.  I'm reading."  Feeling
awkward, she felt she should say something more.  "I don't smoke," she added
with a shy grin.

   Gretchen smiled back.  "Well, that'll change," she laughed assertively,
before exhaling a long plume of smoke into the hazy air of the break room.

   Kelly startled.  She looked at the pretty blond college student, but
Gretchen was absent-mindedly staring off into space while she smoked intently.
"What do you mean?"

   "Oh, just what I said," Gretchen smiled, looking at Kelly.  "You won't work
here too long before you'll pick up the habit.  You'll smoke.  We all do.
It's just how it works."

   Kelly frowned.  "I don't understand."

   "Oh, you will.  Believe me, you will.  When you finally get time for a
break, especially when it's busy like tonight, you need to relax.  Reading
won't cut it.  Smoking's how everyone unwinds.  Pretty soon, you say, what the
hell?  You try it, and you find out it works.  It feels _so_ good to have a
cigarette!  So you start smoking on your breaks all the time.  Before long,
that's not enough.  You smoke everywhere, not just at work."  She shrugged,
like she'd just explained something perfectly obvious.  "That's what happened
to me."

   "You mean you never smoked till you started working here?"

   "I didn't say that," Gretchen smiled, shaking her head.  "I worked as a
waitress for a couple years before coming to Giovanni's.  But it was the same
there.  In the break room, all the girls smoked.  I didn't want to be
different.  I had to try it.  Before I knew it, I was one of them.  I was a
smoker, too.  Just like all the rest.  You will be, too."

   Kelly made a face.  Everyone thought smoking was inevitable if you worked
at a restaurant.  She was determined to prove them wrong.  "Well, I'm not
interested.  I have better things to do than smoke."  There was more than a
little attitude in her voice.

   Gretchen grinned.  "Yeah, maybe you have _other_ things to do.  But there's
nothing _better_ than smoking.  Trust me.  There _is_ nothing better than
having a cigarette when you need a break, when you really need relaxation."
The pretty blond took a long, forceful drag on her cigarette.  "But suit
yourself.  Maybe you're right," she added with a hint of sarcasm.

   Just then Sue Ann came in.  "Hi, Gretchen.  Hi, Kelly."  She turned to the
younger girl as she took a pack of Virginia Slims from her apron and put a
cigarette in her mouth.  "How are you doing, Kelly?  Is everything going
okay?"

   Kelly nodded.  "Yes, fine, Sue Ann."  It was strange calling the older
woman by her first name.  But it made her feel grown up; she liked that.
"Crystal showed me the ropes last night.  I feel better tonight.  I get tired
being on my feet in these high heels, though."

   Sue Ann was a plump, but attractive, vivacious woman in her late thirties.
She laughed.  "You'll get used to the heels.  No one likes 'em at first.
Right, Gretchen?"  The female server made a face.  "But it makes us look
elegant.  And elegance sells.  Right?"  Kelly and Gretchen nodded, the latter
unenthusiastically.  "That's the spirit.  We want our customers coming back.
And if we all - or rather, if you all - look sexy as hell, well, it helps."

   Kelly said nothing.  She looked at her watch.  She had five minutes left on
her break.

   Gretchen left to make a phone call.  Kelly was alone with Sue Ann.  The
older woman lowered her voice.  "You know what, Kelly?  It's okay if you want
to smoke here.  I don't mind.  Really.  Go ahead and light up.  I won't say
anything to your mom.  She doesn't have to know."

   Surprised, Kelly shyly smiled.  "I appreciate that, Sue Ann.  But no
thanks.  I don't smoke, even though that seems to surprise everybody around
here."

   Sue Ann grinned.  "It _does_ surprise me.  I've known your mom for years.
She smokes all the time.  I'm surprised you haven't tried it.  It certainly
wouldn't be hard to put your hands on cigarettes, living with your mom, would
it?  I mean, you could smoke whenever you wanted by borrowing cigarettes from
her."

   "I guess I could.  But I've just never been interested in it," she politely
answered.  "And my mom's trying to cut down anyway."

   Sue Ann giggled.  "Yeah, sure she is.  We're all trying to cut down, dear.
Every smoker in the world is always trying to cut down.  We never do, but
we're always trying."  She laughed again.  "If you change your mind, Kelly, I
just want you to know, it's okay with me if you smoke here.  I let Crystal
smoke.  I'm not uptight about it, like some parents."

   "Thanks," Kelly said. "I appreciate you being so nice.  But I don't think I
want to."

   She left the break room and returned to the hostess stand to relieve
Crystal.  Crystal was clearly glad it was time for her break.  She had an
unlit cigarette in her hand as she left the floor.  She was going to smoke
with her mom.  That seemed weird.  But Kelly didn't have time to reflect on
it, because a large group entered the restaurant at that moment.

   Karen picked her up shortly after ten.  They exchanged small talk during
the short drive home.  As soon as they got in the house, Kelly shed her high
heels.

   "Those feet still hurt?"

   "Yeah," the youngster sighed.  "I don't know if I'll ever get used to these
things."

   "I'm fixing some defcaf," her mother went on.  "Do you want a cup with me
before bed?"

   Kelly nodded.  "Yeah, sure.  You'd have been proud of me tonight, Mom.
While Crystal and I were doing our outs, I had a cup of coffee."

   Karen appeared with two mugs, and handed one to her daughter.  "I am proud,
Kell."  She paused.  "Would you mind terribly if I had a cigarette with mine?
I'd really like one."

   Kelly shrugged and sighed.  "I guess not.  After all, I've been around
second-hand smoke all night.  A little more probably won't kill me."

   "It won't hurt you at all, silly," Karen replied, lighting up a B&H.  She
took a long drag.  "Ah," she sighed happily.  "That's _much_ better."  She
pursed her lips to exhale a thick stream of smoke.  "By the way, did you read
the second hand smoke article?"

   "Yeah, I did.  It was interesting.  It looks like the EPA's statistics were
thrown around fast and loose.  The judge spanked the EPA pretty bad."

   "Yup," Karen agreed.  "Denise told me you shared the article with her.  She
called tonight to thank me.  She made Sam read it, and afterwards he finally
agreed Denise could smoke in their house again.  She was absolutely
delighted."

   "And that's why you gave me the article, isn't it, Mom?  I mean, not to
give to Denise, but to convince me there's no reason you shouldn't be allowed
to smoke in our house?"

   "Yeah, but that's only one of the reasons," Karen admitted with a big
smile.

   Kelly frowned.  "And what would the other reasons be?"

   "To get you off this anti-smoking kick," she said candidly.  "Honey, I've
tried to work with you.  I cut back, at least some, and I haven't been smoking
in the house much at all.  But soon the summer weather will get hot and muggy.
To be frank, I don't want to sit on the back porch sweating like a pig every
time I want a cigarette.  There's no reason.  There really isn't."

   Kelly thought for a moment.  "Okay, Mom," she acquiesced.  "I give up.  As
long as you don't go crazy and smoke constantly, it's okay with me if you want
to smoke in the house some."

   Karen beamed.  "God, thanks, Kell.  I appreciate you understanding.  I
really do.  And I'll try not to do it in a way that irritates you.  I
promise."  Then she frowned.  "You're rubbing your feet again.  Do those high
heel shoes still hurt?"

   "Not as bad as last night.  But, yes, they do."  She took a last sip of her
coffee.  "I'm ready for bed.  It's almost eleven, and I'm beat."

   "I tell you what.  You get ready for bed, and I'll bring you some more
extra strength Tylenol.  What do you say?"

   Kelly nodded.  "It's a deal, Mom."

   After taking the pills, Kelly went to bed.  By eleven thirty, she was out
cold.  The tranquilizers did their work once more.  And again, Karen visited
Kelly's bedroom with her pack of cigarettes, her lighter and an ashtray.  She
sat beside her on the bed.  Kelly didn't wake up, being completely out from
the medication.  Karen smiled at her little girl, who slept soundly.

   "Well, honey, here we are again.  You know what?  Denise and Sue Ann tell
me you got lots of encouragement to smoke today.  And I have to tell you, I'm
so pleased.  That's great.  And you know what else?  It'll be so easy for you
when you finally do decide to start smoking, because you're getting these
little lessons to prepare you for the experience."

   While she talked, she stuffed cotton balls in Kelly's nose and secured them
with tape, like before, to shut off any breathing through her nostrils.  She
then lit up a B&H and inhaled deeply.  "Tonight I'm going to give you a lot
more, pumpkin."  She leaned in to put her mouth on Kelly's, exhaling thick,
rich smoke from the full flavor cigarette into her sleeping daughter's lips.
At first the unconscious youngster choked, but ultimately she accepted the
deposit and took it into her chest, showing much less protest than she had the
night before.

   "Ah!  There, that's not so bad, is it?"  Apparently it wasn't, because
tendrils of exhaled smoke began escaping from her sleeping daughter's open
lips.  The smoke went deep inside her virgin lungs before coming out.  Karen
grinned.  "Before long, you'll really like this, honey.  In fact, I think you
_already_ like it, much more than you'd admit.  Here, let me give you another
load."  She took an extended drag, put her mouth on top of Kelly's, and
exhaled.  "Mmm," she purred.  "Isn't that sweet?"  Covering Kelly's mouth with
her own while waiting for the youngster to breathe, she made sure that the
smoke penetrated deep inside.  Karen watched her exhale the smoke, after a
substantial amount of it made its way into her lungs.  The teenager turned,
smacked her lips and rolled onto her side.  Without waiting, Karen took a
third drag and repeated the procedure.  This time Kelly didn't choke.  She
accepted the smoke without flinching, almost willingly.

   "Yes!  That's it.  Good girl," her mom said enthusiastically.  "Tonight
we'll do this for a long time, honey.  I want you to get really used to having
smoke in your lungs.  It's probably too much to expect that you'll get
addicted doing this.  But that'd be ideal, as far as I'm concerned.  Because
very soon, you, Kelly Sims, you are going to be a real smoker!"

   Karen smoked three consecutive cigarettes with her daughter.  With each
drag she exhaled smoke into Kelly's mouth.  Even with three cigarettes, the
sleeping youngster seemed no worse for the wear.  However, Karen needed a
break.  She went downstairs for half an hour to do some paperwork.  At
midnight she returned, and shared three more cigarettes with her unconscious
daughter, repeatedly feeding her mouthfuls of smoke.  Though Kelly couldn't
hear, Karen continued talking.

   "Kell, honey, you're doing great.  You'll be a smoker before you know it.
Yeah, that's it.  Keep breathing in the smoke I'm feeding you.  Mmm, it's
starting to taste damn good, isn't it?  Yeah, I know it is."  She directed
another stream of smoke into her mouth.  "That's it, baby.  Breathe it in
there," she giggled.  "That's the point, sweetie.  Get used to having smoke
deep inside that pretty little body of yours.  I want you to get to where,
every time you smell someone smoking a cigarette, bingo, you start breathing
deeper, to get some of this stuff for yourself."

   Finally, after six cigarettes, she left and, after opening Kelly's windows,
went to bed.  Karen was satisfied by their progress.  Soon she knew it would
pay big dividends.

   The next morning, Kelly awoke again with a dry mouth.  Her breath also
smelled like stale smoke.  In fact, her whole room smelled smoky, but of
course her mom was now smoking in the house again.  She'd done it openly after
Kelly said she could.  So the youngster figured the stale smoke smell on her
breath was from being at the restaurant the night before.  She knew the odor
permeates your skin, your clothes and your hair.  She wasn't crazy about the
taste in her mouth, but she thought she knew why it was there.  As she sat on
the toilet to pee, she began picking bits of cotton from her nose.  That
troubled her.  Why was cotton in her nose?

   At breakfast Karen was strangely preoccupied.  Kelly said nothing about the
cotton or the strange taste in her mouth.  After pouring a cup of coffee, at
her mom's insistence, and saying goodbye, she settled in for another morning
of reading.  She finished "The Catcher in the Rye" by the time she left for
Denise's house.  She took the second book on her summer reading list, "The
Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand.

   As she entered the Sutton house, she smelled the familiar aroma of
second-hand smoke.  What her mom said was true.  Denise and Sam had had a long
discussion about the Internet article.  Denise was now allowed to smoke in the
house.  The pungent aroma was everywhere.  It didn't seem to bother baby
Justin, however, and it didn't really trouble Kelly, either.  In the past she
often complained about the odor, but now, for some reason, it didn't seem
quite so offensive.

   Kelly didn't give the smoking thing much thought.  She read The
Fountainhead till Justin awoke.  Then she played with him, fed him lunch, and
read him picture books till two.  He was ready to nap again, and Kelly
returned to her reading.

   Denise got home at two thirty.  Kelly was enmeshed in "The Fountainhead"
and hardly heard her come in.  Denise put her purse on the table and whistled.

   "My God, you are quite a reader, Kelly Sims," she exclaimed.  "How was
Justin today?"

   "Fine," Kelly smiled, closing the book.  "My mom says I need to read lots
of classics this summer.  She's intent on me getting into college.  But that's
okay.  I like to read."

   "You'll succeed in college.  You seem smart.  The only thing I read are
trashy romance novels."  Denise took a pack of Benson & Hedges Menthol Lights
100's from her purse.  Kelly recognized them as the menthol light version of
the brand her mom smoked.

   Denise lit up without asking.  "Thanks again for the second-hand smoke
article.  Like I said, it really persuaded Sam, as you can tell."  She pursed
her lips to exhale a plume of smoke.  "It's such a relief to smoke in my house
again.  So, thanks."

   "You're welcome," Kelly shyly replied.  "But I didn't mean to show it to
you.  I was using it as a bookmark, without thinking about it.  But I'm glad
it helped, I guess."

   Denise sat down across from the ambivalent teenager.  She still wore her
waitress uniform.  She held her long, white cigarette by her face and smiled.
Her dark eyes flashed.  She twirled her long, black hair between the fingers
of her free hand.  "It helped a ton.  And someday, Kelly, you'll smoke, too.
Then you'll understand just how grateful I am."

   "I don't know about that, Denise," admitted the younger girl.  "I've been
pretty adamant that I'll never start; I mean, I've watched my mom smoke my
whole life."

   Denise nodded.  "That's why I can't imagine you won't eventually try it.
C'mon, tell the truth, Kelly.  Aren't you just a _little_ curious about
smoking?"

   Kelly shifted nervously in her seat.  "God, I don't know," she hesitated.
"I didn't used to think so.  But the last couple days, a lot has happened.  It
seems everyone I'm with smokes; you, Mom, and everybody at Giovanni's."

   "So, I take it you're the only non-smoker at work?"

   It was Kelly's turn to nod.  "Yeah, I guess so.  Sue Ann, the owner, she
smokes.  So does Crystal, and she's my age.  All the servers smoke.  Yeah, I
think I _am_ the only non-smoker who works at the restaurant."

   A delicious smile crept over Denise's pretty mouth as she manicured her
cigarette in an ashtray.  "It's like I said, Kelly.  That doesn't surprise me,
not one bit.  I'd be shocked if they didn't.  Everyone at my restaurant
smokes, and I'm sure yours is no different.  So, why don't you try it?  Just
to see what it's like?"

   Kelly shrugged.  "God, I don't know.  I'm scared I'd get hooked, I guess.
I mean, I've seen my mom smoke.  She can't seem to quit, and I even asked her
nicely to try.  She says she can't.  I'm afraid that'd happen to me, too."

   "Do you think she can't quit, or that she just doesn't want to?"

   Kelly hesitated.  "What do you mean?"

   "I mean, I bet your mom could quit if she really wanted to.  But she won't
try, because she really doesn't want to stop.  And why do you think she
doesn't want to quit?"

   Kelly sighed.  "I don't know, but I bet you're going to tell me."

   "Damn straight," Denise grinned.  "She doesn't want to quit because smoking
is so damn wonderful.  Trust me, Kelly.  You should try it.  If you do, you
won't be let down.  I promise."

   "Yesterday you said you weren't pushing it.  Now it sounds like you changed
your tune."

   "Yeah, well, maybe I have," Denise laughed.  "But what I think doesn't
matter.  You don't really give a shit what I think.  It's what you think
that's key, Kelly.  And I bet you're curious, despite what you said yesterday.
You _would_ like to try it.  Am I right?"

   Kelly didn't answer.  Something made her hesitate.  Something about the
aroma of Denise's burning cigarette unexpectedly tantalized her.  It smelled
strangely alluring.  Suddenly, she _did_ want to try a cigarette.  But she
resisted the temptation, attractive though it suddenly seemed.  She couldn't
take Denise up on her offer.  Could she?

   "No, I don't think I want to smoke," she muttered halfheartedly.  She got
up to leave.  "I still need to think about it," she added hesitantly.

   Denise smiled.  Sensing the indecision, she seemed delighted.  "Okay, your
choice.  But anytime you _do_ want to experiment with it, Kelly, let me know."
She was clearly egging the youngster on.  "It can be our secret, just the two
of us.  Your mom doesn't need to know, if you want to keep it quiet."

   "Thanks," she smiled feebly.  "I'll think about it."

   And she did.  It was funny that Denise suddenly seemed so interested in her
trying it.  Most grown-ups were exactly the opposite.  They told kids never to
start.  But Denise was refreshingly honest about her feelings.  Her candor on
the subject was strangely charming.

   Kelly didn't know why, but she _was_ interested in it, more than ever.  She
always thought smoking was stupid.  She used to hate her mom for constantly
lighting up.  But now, for some weird reason, she felt different.  The smell,
far from repulsive or disgusting anymore, now was oddly enticing.  "What's
happening to me?" she wondered aloud as she continued her reading.  She didn't
know.  All she knew was, she felt different.  The idea of smoking no longer
seemed incredible.  That scared her; so she tried not to think about it.

   At five she got ready for work.  Karen picked her up at five twenty and
drove her to Giovanni's.  The restaurant was busy, and she had no time to
think about anything, including smoking.  But at seven thirty it was time for
a break.  There was nowhere else to go, so she went to the break room.  She
brought nothing to read, so she just sat there.  Rob and Suzanne, two servers
working that night, were already on break.  Like Gretchen, they were in
college.  Both of them were smoking.  They chain-smoked, rapidly devouring
three consecutive cigarettes each in a scant fifteen minute period.

   Kelly was amazed by their rapid cigarette consumption.  But even more
astounding was her unexpected reaction.  The smell of their smoke was
overwhelmingly enticing.  She could hardly endure being in the same room with
the wonderfully fragrant aroma!  Never before had cigarette smoke smelled so
good.  Vainly she tried not to pay attention to the two smokers, but she
couldn't help but enjoy the thick, sweet-smelling aroma that flooded the room
from Rob and Suzanne ravenously consuming cigarettes.  Being in the small,
smoked-filled room was pleasant; pleasant, and yet somehow frustrating.  She
enjoyed the scent of fresh smoke, but that wasn't all.  She could hardly bring
herself to admit what she was suddenly thinking about.

   She actually thought about asking Rob or Suzanne for a cigarette.  She
didn't know why, but all of a sudden she wanted to join in with them and
smoke.  It frightened her.  She didn't know either of them very well, and they
were older, in college.  Oh my God, what is happening to me? she wondered
again silently.  Something crazy was going on.  She'd never felt this way
being around smokers.  She was relieved when her break was over and she
returned to the floor.

   Later, she and Crystal did outs together.  This time Kelly found herself
watching Crystal closely as she lit up and smoked one cigarette after another
while they sat together and rolled silverware.  Once again, the intoxicatingly
attractive aroma captivated her.  Her heart beat faster.  But she said
nothing.  She feared before long she'd ask Crystal for a cigarette.  She
shivered at the thought; but she wasn't sure if it was from excitement or
dread.

   Her mom picked her up at 10:30, and they drove home in silence.  Karen
sensed something wasn't right.

   "What's wrong, honey?  You seem awfully quiet.  Were things hard at work?"

   Kelly sighed.  "No.  I don't know what's wrong.  I feel edgy, out of
sorts."  She frowned.  "And my fuckin' feet hurt like hell!"

   Karen smiled.  Her reserved daughter was being extraordinarily outspoken.
"Kell, honey, that's a new one.  I've never heard you use that kind of
language!"

   "Sorry, Mom.  I don't know what's come over me.  Shit!"  She blushed.  "I'm
sorry.  I didn't mean to say that either."

   "Don't worry, honey," Karen assured her.  "It's no problem.  It's fine with
me.  I don't mind.  I'm no prude.  To be honest, I like seeing you loosen up.
It'll do you good.  You're so conservative and straight-laced.  It's not good
to hold things in.  You have to follow your feelings, follow what your heart
is telling you"

   "Yeah, I know," she sighed.  She reached up and pushed her long blond hair
away from her pretty face.  Her hands were trembling.  "God, I don't know
what's wrong with me.  I feel like I want something, but I don't know what.
I'm angry and annoyed, and I don't know why."

   Karen smiled.  She knew the source of her daughter's discomfort, and she
knew how to fix it.  So she told a little white lie.  "Well, honey, maybe it's
your feet.  After all, it's hard being on them all night.  I'll get you some
extra-strength Tylenol, and you'll feel better.  All you need is a good
night's sleep.  Getting in bed will be just the thing!"

   "I guess," moaned the youngster.  "But somehow I'm not sure that's the
problem."

   "Oh, trust me," Karen smiled wickedly.  "You'll feel much better as soon as
you shut your eyes and go to sleep."

   Fifteen minutes later, Kelly was in bed.  Karen rubbed her feet for a few
minutes, and then gave her the pills.  The teenager put her head on her pillow
and fell asleep almost instantly.  She was, in fact, tired.  Tired, and unsure
what was causing that inexplicable yearning inside.

   But Karen knew, and she was eager to solve the problem for her.  Shortly
after Kelly fell asleep, Karen re-appeared in her room.  She turned on the
light, sat down on the bed, and without a word lit up a B&H.  She took a
powerful first hit.

   "Don't worry, baby-doll.  I know what you need, and it's definitely not
sleep that you need to fix this problem."  She spoke with a whisper as she
released a stream of smoke into the air.  "Denise told me about the talk you
had at her house.  You spent a lot of time tonight around smokers."  She
laughed malevolently.  "You're cracking, Kell.  Face it.  You may not know it,
but you're starting to want some smoke of your own.  You're out of sorts
because you want nicotine.  No, that's wrong.  You don't want it; you need it!
Your little body is crying out for some of this wonderful antidote to fix your
irritability.  And that's exactly what I'm going to give you right now.  I'm
going to feed some of this delicious smoke!"  

   She took a long drag, leaned in, and exhaled smoke into her daughter's
mouth.  No cotton balls covered her nose, but this time Kelly didn't even try
to escape.  Her eyes were closed, but the sleeping girl stayed right in the
path of her mom's smoke.  The voluminous exhale flowed right into Kelly's open
mouth.  It was almost as if she was waiting for it.

   Karen realized that tonight Kelly showed no negative reaction.  Instead, a
slight smile covered the corners of her unconscious mouth, as little wisps of
smoke reluctantly poured from her lips after receiving her mother's generous
gift.

   Karen clapped her hands with glee.  "Ah, I knew it!  You like it, don't
you, honey?  Yes, you _really_ like it.  I can tell.  You already love having
smoke inside your body.  Mmm.  It's _so_ good.  I know you want it.  Let me
give you some more!"

   And she did.  She took another drag, moved even closer this time, and
exhaled again.  The sleeping teenager right away breathed the smoke inside.
It went deep into her lungs; she offered absolutely no resistance.  Over her
next few breaths, from her expressionless mouth came the smoke she'd taken and
inhaled from her mother's mouth.  And then, as if by magic, a larger, very
satisfied smile began appearing on the youngster's slumbering lips.

   "Ah, yes, it's very nice, isn't it, honey?" Karen purred.  "This is what
you've been waiting for all day.  You want my smoke.  You like it.  You love
it.  Well, sweetie, you can have as much as you want tonight.  I don't mind."
She laughed out loud, and repeated exhaling into her daughter's waiting lips.
"We'll do this even longer tonight, baby.  I want you to feel completely
satisfied.  And I want you to keep cracking.  Before you know it, Kelly,
you'll break down and smoke, either with Denise, or with Crystal or Sue Ann.
Trust me.  It's coming, and soon, too.  I can feel it.  And so can you."

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