Pygmalion, Part 8

The following story is fictional and is provided solely for the enjoyment 
of its readers. While there are references to actual establishments such as 
major corporations, smaller companies, restaurants and locations, the 
characters in the story are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to a real 
person either living or dead is completely coincidental. Several 
non-fictional characters (celebrities) make brief cameo appearances. Their 
role is purely fictional and no way linked to their actual lives. This 
fictional account does contain adult language and themes. If such language 
and themes offend you, please read no further. This story is copyrighted by 
AZ-MAN, 2000, all rights reserved. Permission is granted to reproduce it 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. 



A final thanks - to SSTORYMAN for his support, guidance and friendship. 

Should you have any comments, please feel free to respond to 
azman2k@yahoo.com. 



PYGMALION 

Part 8 of 10 


15. Pygmalion 

Doug was in a hurry as he sped along the streets of Scottsdale heading for 
Paradise Valley and Hank's home on the mountain. He had just been burdened 
with some bad news as he was departing his condo and was debating whether 
to enlighten Hank. He found that while he was a very good judge of human 
character and loved studying people's idiosyncrasies from afar, he was 
inadequate in his understanding of the slight nuances of affairs of the 
heart between men and women. The last thing in the world he wanted to do 
was disappoint Hank but poor Doug didn't know how to interpret the 
conversation he had with Beth when he encountered her on the steps of her 
condo. He reflected back. 

"Beth, oh Beth!" he cried out to her. She was just about to go back inside 
after checking her mail when Doug spotted her. 

Beth wasn't exactly happy to see him. She didn't fully understand his role 
in this matchmaking scheme and thought it best to avoid him now that she 
had decided to end seeing Hank. "Hi Doug. How are you?" she asked with a 
fresh VS Light in her left hand (#12 for the day). 

Doug noticed the cigarette and felt glad for Hank. He knew Hank would 
reward Cynthia generously for making this happen. As for himself, he didn't 
mind losing the gentleman's bet between them in the least. All he wanted 
was for Hank to be happy. "Oh, just wonderful. I'm wonderful indeed," he 
replied. 

Beth noticed Doug briefly look down at her cigarette. Instinctively, she 
looked down at it for a moment then their eyes met. Slightly embarrassed 
she spoke, "Bet you never thought you'd see this, huh?" 

"On the contrary Beth. Smoking suits you. You look stunning." He thought he 
was paying her a high compliment but something on her face told him 
otherwise. 

She took a long drag and opened her mouth during the inhale so he could 
peek at the creamy smoke just before she sucked it down. "It's Eliza," she 
told him. "I'm going by Eliza now." She had just used that name over the 
phone with Tony and she felt like sticking with it for awhile, especially 
if she wanted to make a clean break from Hank. Eliza took another long puff 
and let her exhale go from the side of her mouth as a courtesy to Doug. 

Doug immediately understood the name connection. Eliza came from Elizabeth, 
presumably her full name. "Well, well. Tell me Eliza...did you enjoy your 
night out last Saturday? Of course you did," he quickly answered. "You 
probably saw us there, didn't you?" He smiled. 

"I did. And you saw Heather and Eliza too." 

"Of course we did." He wanted to add, 'and I saw you with that young twerp 
trying to infuriate Hank,' but he held his tongue. She owed him no loyalty 
at this point. 

"Well, in case you're interested, Eliza is going out with the man you saw 
her with that night. Tony is his name." She got such a kick talking about 
her new persona in the third person. "And I trust Hank will soon know about 
this as well?" She knew Doug was a direct line to Hank. This tactic might 
save her a phone call. 

Doug frowned. He didn't like this cute game she was playing. "Let's cut the 
crap, Beth. I don't know what sort of amusement you're getting with this 
'Eliza' thing but I don't like seeing Hank hurt. I know why you did what 
you did Saturday night but I think you've only got a small part of the 
story. You should know Hank has feelings for you and not just the ordinary 
kind. You're special to him." He paused wondering if he'd gone too far, 
then continued. "Of course you already know that. It doesn't take a genius 
to figure it out." 

Beth was stunned. She suspected Hank was enamoured with her but never 
expected to hear it like this. Nonetheless, she felt no recourse but to 
keep a defensive posture in place. "Eliza doesn't care about Hank. Eliza is 
free to date whomever she pleases. If Hank has a problem with that, you 
have him call me." She took a long-lasting puff on her cigarette, inhaled 
then stepped inside her condo and closed the door. 

Once seated in the living room, Elizabeth exhaled her smoke and pondered 
her choice. She wasn't sure who she was at this point. The fact that Doug 
had confessed Hank's feelings momentarily overjoyed her. Beth wanted Hank, 
more desperately now than before but Eliza reminded her of the consequences 
- further smoking and further trouble with her family, specifically her 
father. As she got ready for her time with Cynthia, she decided she'd visit 
her purely as Eliza and tell her of the change. 



Doug replayed their conversation in his mind as his car chugged up Hank's 
tall driveway. It was a little before 2 PM and he knew Hank wanted to talk. 
He'd decided to tell Hank about his Beth encounter but he'd soften it some, 
perhaps leave some hope for Hank. Doug wasn't sure if there was truly hope 
to be had or not. Again, the differences between the sexes and their 
often-erratic behavior sometimes confused or eluded Doug entirely. In some 
respects, he was thankful that his lifestyle was much simpler. 

"Hank, good to see you again," smiled Doug as they shook hands in Hank's 
large study. 

"Dougie, how you been?" Hank replied in an uncharacteristic listless tone. 

"Terrific Hank. And you?" Doug knew the answer but asked as a courtesy just 
the same. 

"Oh, not the best my boy. I've been better." Hank was still wearing his 
bathrobe and slippers. "By the way, I'm sorry about last Saturday. I 
treated you and Cynthia poorly and I was an ass." He offered the apology 
genuinely but Doug could tell that he was still poisoned by the whole 
evening. 

"Don't even mention it Hank. In fact Beth didn't have a clue....." 

Hank shook his head and interrupted, "No, no. Let's not even discuss it. I 
really feel I failed miserably but am still sifting through the pieces. 
It's yours and Cynthia's friendship that I value most right now. I think 
using Beth took our little deal too far. She was way too volatile and..." 
Hank paused as though he knew what he was going to say but could bring 
himself to saying it. "and...oh shit, I don't know. Let's just forget the 
whole thing." 

Doug knew clearly that Hank wanted to discuss the 'whole thing'. That was 
precisely why he was asked to come over. "Beth is a good kid," he 
responded. "She may be a little confused right now. But Hank, no matter 
what she may be doing to try to hurt you, she still wants to see you. I 
believe that." 

Hank looked directly at Doug. "What do you mean, 'what she may be doing to 
try to hurt me'? Wasn't Saturday night enough? You mean she's got something 
else planned?" 

"Hank, she's not trying to hurt you. As I said, I believe she's confused." 
Doug thought for a moment then spoke, "You want to hear a good one?" He 
smiled in anticipation of the change in subject. 

Hank nodded. 

"She's calling herself Eliza now. No more Beth - just Eliza. In fact, she 
corrected me when I continued to use her name Beth." 

"ELIZA?" Hank raised his voice. His anger with her the other night had 
prevented him from remembering this fact when she told him. Now it hit him 
again. "Eliza, as in Eliza Doolittle or something? What's she up to anyway? 
Does she think she's in a Broadway play or something?" Hank was merely 
referring to Eliza Doolittle in "My Fair Lady" played by Julie Andrews on 
the stage and later by Audrey Hepburn in the movie. Hank had loved watching 
Audrey Hepburn in that movie. He'd seen it dozens of times. It was his 
favorite musical. 

Doug broke in, "I think Eliza's just the other half of her name Hank. Her 
full name is Elizabeth, nothing more." 

"Oh. Well, what's she trying to prove anyway? Why would she change her name 
at this point in her life?" Hank fumed. 

Doug decided to tell Hank some more of his story. "Could be she's going 
through a change in life, a metamorphous from what she was before she moved 
here to what she is now." 

"Well Dougie, what is she now? Huh? We failed. I don't think she's anything 
she wasn't already." Hank was testing Doug. He truly didn't believe they'd 
failed. He was merely telling him: it's time to finish your story, if there 
is a finish to this story and inane project. 

"To begin with, I saw her smoking today. Today, by herself, with no one 
else around. She looked like she'd been doing it for years Hank. How's that 
for a change?" 

Hank looked astonished for the first time since Doug arrived. "Smoking? By 
herself?" He was silent for a time then spoke, "Are you certain of this?" 

Doug just laughed. "Of course. She even gave me a little demonstration of 
how well she's mastered it. I believe it was intended as a message for 
you...you know, as soon as I see you again." 

Hank went silent again. He was thinking. 

Doug sat in silence with him for several minutes. He was churning his mind 
wondering if he should tell Hank about this date 'Eliza' had set up with 
Tony-the-twenty-nothing. He decided that he should. Their friendship 
demanded it. So far, he'd fed Hank a positive spin, now it was time for the 
bad news. "Hank, there's something more to this change with the new Eliza. 
She told me that she's going to see this guy Tony again. You know, the one 
in the bar? I don't think there's a thing between them, it's just that..." 

Hank looked up. "See who? Tony? That kid with her the other night?" He 
looked back down at his shoes. "It's over then," he whispered barely loud 
enough for Doug to hear. "I guess it's good riddance. We're through, I'm 
through." Hank had the look of a tired and beaten man. 

"Hank, she's just trying out her new role. She herself realizes she's gone 
through some pretty massive changes. I think she wants to practice on Tony. 
She wants to confirm that her new persona is what men want, nothing more." 

"And is this your expert opinion, doctor?" came Hank's sarcastic reply. 

It stung, but just a little. Doug could handle it and so could their 
friendship. His shoulders sagged and he just nodded back. 

"Oh Doug, I'm sorry." Hank immediately recognized what he'd done. He moved 
closer to Doug and hugged him. "I'm so sorry. I don't deserve you," he 
spoke softly in his ear. "You're a true friend, for life. I know you're 
just trying to help." When they finished the embrace, he continued, "I love 
her Doug. God help me, I do love her. I've given it much thought over the 
last few days and I can't deny it. I've never felt this way about a woman 
before. I guess I'm just a little scared." Hank was reminded of Cynthia and 
their lapse this morning. He owed her a big apology as well - if she'd ever 
accept it. 

Doug noticed a small tear in Hank's right eye. "Then fight for her Hank. 
Show her that she won't regret her recent changes. Go to her. Talk to her. 
Tell her these things!" 

Hank smiled. He was glad to have finally confessed his little secret to 
someone. A small weight had been lifted. However, confession to a close 
friend was one thing. Confession to Beth, or Eliza, or whatever the hell 
she's calling herself was something else entirely. "I guess since I feel 
I've created or effected this change, I'm a bit at risk telling her that I 
now love her. You know what I mean?" 

Doug pondered the question. All of a sudden clarity like he'd never had 
before on the subject of heterosexual relationships struck him like a 
thunderbolt. "Of course! Of course!" Doug jumped to his feet and began 
moving around the room laughing. 

Hank stood up with him but was completely befuddled. "What?" What are you 
doing? What's so funny?" 

"Oh Hank. Hank! This is perfect. I understand completely now. You're 
Pygmalion. It's so simple. You're Pygmalion! 

"I'm a what?" 

"Not a what. Just Pygmalion. You know...the king from Cypress in Greek 
mythology that carved a statue of a beautiful woman, then fell in love with 
her. Aphrodite, their goddess of love and beauty later brought the statue 
to life for him as a real, living woman. It wasn't until you brought up the 
reference to "My Fair Lady" earlier did it all click. You may remember that 
movie and play are modern day allegory to the Pygmalion effect." Then Doug 
started laughing again. "It's just so perfect." 

"I think, uh, I see but..." Hank was still confused by Doug's 
over-exuberance. 

"No, no. Here's the best part. Here's the connection to "My Fair Lady". 
Now, tell me again, what name did your mother call you when you were a kid, 
the name you said you detested?" 

Hank smiled. "Henry." 

"Yes. Yes, you're the modern day Henry Higgins of Paradise Valley and King 
Pygmalion of Cypress all rolled into one!" 

Hank was finally getting it and smiling. "And I suppose the fact that Beth 
is now going by Eliza is just too rich of a coincidence with Eliza 
Doolittle, Henry Higgins' creation and leading character in "My Fair 
Lady"?" 

"Bingo! Oh, Hank, call it what you will, but this match was made by 
Aphrodite herself. Fortune has smiled favorably on you. Now go out there 
and take her back. She's yours! The goddess of love is watching you both." 

Doug's literary pep talk was boosting Hank's spirits considerably. "And 
suppose she says no?" Hank was again testing Doug just so he'd get some 
final piece of reassurance. 

"No? No will not be in her vocabulary when she recognizes who you are. Your 
are her creator, her savior and soon-to-be lover. She won't be able to 
resist you." 

Now it was time for Hank to laugh loudly. In an odd way, he wanted to 
believe Doug. This could be the last piece of the puzzle needed to put his 
love life back on track. He knew he was long overdue for true romance and 
the new Eliza was the answer to his prayers. He just had to go out and 
convince her of this truth. 



16. True Sacrifice 


Cynthia was looking forward to her visit with Beth. She hurried around the 
casita tidying things up. She even opened a fresh basket of strawberries 
and cleaned them in the sink before momentarily sticking an expensive 
bottle of champagne in the freezer to chill. The casita was her home away 
from home and she kept many personal belongings here. Her endless supply of 
cigarettes that came from the closet drawers were just one of the many 
fringe benefits that came from working for Hank. 

Cynthia set the Waterford crystal champagne flutes on the bar when she 
finished cleaning them. Then she heard Beth's knock on the door. 

"Beth. Good to see you," she spoke as she reached out to hug her. 

Beth stepped back. "Sorry. I should be up front with you. It's Eliza. I'm 
going by Eliza now," she said as she removed her sunglasses. 

Cynthia now felt embarrassed that she'd reached out to hug her. "Eliza? Oh, 
I get it. Your full name's Elizabeth or something, right?" There was an 
awkward silence. Then Cynthia spoke up, "Oh, please, come on in 'Eliza'." 
Her voice was slightly patronizing because the new Eliza seemed to be 
haughtier than Cynthia expected. 

Eliza came in and sat down on the sofa that she'd become very familiar with 
over the last month. This is where she'd truly learned to smoke. This is 
where she and Cynthia had become intimate friends simply by sharing each 
other's smoke. Now, for some reason, she felt uncomfortable sitting down 
with her pretty companion. 

Cynthia was going to force Eliza to make the first gesture towards 
conversation. Eliza had requested this meeting and because of her cool 
attitude, she thought it best to just keep quiet until Eliza spoke. She 
watched as Eliza reached into her leather purse. 

Eliza pulled out a single cigarette from a hidden pack along with a gold 
lighter. Within the space of a mere second, she had her cigarette lit and 
was inhaling her first puff. Once the smoke rested in her lungs she said, 
"This is why Eliza came to see you." She held up her cigarette. "Eliza 
can't stop smoking these nasty but wonderful things." She kept a look on 
her face that seemed to suggest, 'and what are you going to do about it?' 

Cynthia was at a loss. She understood perfectly that Eliza was conveying 
some regrets about her newfound addiction but she wasn't sure if she was 
being blamed or being asked for help. Cynthia smiled. "Well...are they 
nasty or are they wonderful? They can't be both." 

"Beth says they're nasty but Eliza says they're wonderful," she spoke as if 
anyone could understand this easy logic. 

Cynthia laughed. "Let's not get schizophrenic about this, dear. If I were 
you, I'd listen to Eliza." It was meant as humor, nothing more. 

"I am. That's who I am right now. Except Eliza wants to quit smoking or 
maybe just not smoke as much." 

Cynthia rolled her eyes. She wasn't sure if Eliza / Beth was playing a 
clever game or had truly gone off the deep end. "Tell me, how much is Eliza 
smoking now?" Cynthia asked in a tone that was full of derision. She 
expected to hear about 10 cigarettes a day max. 

Eliza didn't catch the ridicule and answered honestly. "I'm, err, Eliza's 
smoking more than a pack a day. In fact this is Eliza's fifteenth cigarette 
and it's only 3 o'clock. I'm smoking about two every hour." 

"Whoa." Cynthia shed her roll-playing immediately. "You're on a pace to 
smoke almost 30 cigarettes today. Beth, that's unbelievable! I just started 
teaching you four weeks ago." 

Cynthia's concern started to melt Beth's thin exterior. "I know, I know. 
Let's just say I did a lot of homework," she said smiling. It was her first 
simile since coming into the casita. 

"Yeah but still, Beth...can I call you Beth? It's just easier for me." 

Beth nodded. "Me too. Either way, Beth and Eliza need help. Can you help 
me?" 

Cynthia thought about it for several long seconds, then simply offered, 
"Yes. I can help." She stood up and walked to the kitchen. "Care to join me 
for some champagne and strawberries?" 

"Will it help me stop smoking?" Beth asked, half-kidding. 

Cynthia giggled, "No, but it'll make you worry a whole lot less about it." 

Beth stood up and walked over to the kitchen. She reached out and finally 
hugged Cynthia. In a soft voice she said, "I'm sorry. I'm just a little 
anxious and confused right now. Thanks for being here for me." 

Cynthia was touched. She was also relieved to discover her friend had only 
been acting. Earlier she thought she'd be placing a call to the Mayo 
Clinic's mental health outpatient services. "I'm glad to be here for you," 
she replied. She gently released the cork on the champagne and poured two 
glasses full of the sparkling amber-colored liquid and handed one to Beth. 
"Let's sit back down on the sofa." 

The girls enjoyed sipping their champagne very slowly. Neither was smoking. 
It was as if they were purposely avoiding the topic during the pleasantries 
because ultimately this was why they were here in the first place. 

"This is very good champagne Cynthia. What is it?" asked Beth, sounding 
impressed. 

Cynthia waved her arm. "Oh, I don't know. It's some import. Dom something 
or other..." 

Both girls laughed knowing full well that Cynthia was referring to Dom 
Perignon, a French import that sold for about $100 a bottle. "It's 
marvelous," Beth spoke between sips. "Nothing but the best, huh?" 

"Hank does alright," replied Cynthia, wanting to give him full credit for 
their luxurious beverage this afternoon. 

Beth didn't want to talk about Hank right now. In fact, she lapsed back 
into her Eliza routine. "Eliza needs help right now, Cyn. Eliza wants to 
smoke again. She's dying for a cigarette to go with this wonderful 
champagne." 

"Then be my guest. If you must smoke, go right ahead," spoke Cynthia as she 
dabbed her lips after a long sip from her glass. 

"Don't you want to join me? I mean, Eliza can smoke by herself but it would 
be much more fun with you. You still smoke, don't you?" She was momentarily 
concerned that Cynthia may have quit. 

"Of course I still smoke. I'll never quit and that's the truth," she beamed 
proudly. "Of course that statement may horrify some people." 

"How so?" Beth was already eagerly sliding one of her VS Menthol Lights out 
and readying her gold lighter. 

"Because they don't know how I manage it. Successful management is the 
secret to being able to smoke virtually guilt-free." 

"You sound so confident," spoke Beth like she was afraid she was missing 
some key ingredient in her knowledge of smoking. She knew she was not 
managing anything about her newly acquired habit. She'd been smoking as she 
pleased answering the call every time the urge hit her, even in bed at 3 in 
the morning. 

"Will you do something for me?" Cynthia asked as she refilled both the 
champagne glasses. 

"Certainly," replied Beth. 

"I want you to show me a normal puff and a normal inhale, as if no one is 
watching you. I need to observe your smoking mechanics from beginning to 
end." 

Beth responded with a nod but appeared nervous, like Cynthia was going to 
find something wrong or something that she wasn't aware of. First she took 
a sip from her refilled glass then began about a 2-second puff. Beth 
carefully removed the cigarette from her pursed lips then popped the smoke 
into her lungs. After holding it for no more than a couple of seconds, she 
exhaled a steady, medium stream towards Cynthia's lap until no more smoke 
was visible. When done, Beth looked up and made eye contact with her 
instructor that silently conveyed, 'was that what you wanted to see?' 

"Perfect. How do you feel?" 

"Good." 

"I mean, how do you feel from the effects of that one puff?" 

"Good. I feel it working if that's what you're asking. I feel its 
sensations but it's starting to fade. Can I have another puff?" 

Cynthia laughed. She thought it was funny that Beth was asking her if it 
was all right to puff on her own cigarette. "Sure. But count to five this 
time during the draw, and then inhale." 

Beth did as she was instructed. She'd never taken this long of a puff but 
was confident that she could do it. When she inhaled, the smoke felt much 
heavier going down as it rested in her lungs. Still, her body tolerated it 
without a trace of rejection. Beth's full exhale last through several 
breaths. "Wow," was all she said after another sip of her champagne. 

Cynthia asked, "And, your feelings this time?" 

"I'm floating. I feel wonderful." Beth was smiling and her eyes were closed 
like she was caught in a pleasant dream. 

"Do you want another puff? I mean right now? And be honest." 

Beth thought about it. "No, not really, I'm fine for now." 

"Okay. Just sit there. Let the urge for another puff come upon you 
naturally." 

Beth leaned back into the sofa's large cushions. She held her cigarette in 
her left hand while she slowly drank from her champagne glass. 

After about a minute, Cynthia asked, "How about now?" 

Beth opened her eyes. "Oh, maybe. Should I have one now?" 

Cynthia laughed again. She was amazed how little Beth knew about her body 
when it came to inhaling smoke - especially since she claimed she was so 
addicted. "Whenever. Let me ask you a question. Have you smoked anything 
other than those since you started?" Cynthia pointed at Beth's shrinking VS 
Menthol Light. 

"No." 

"Haven't you been the least bit curious about trying another brand?" 

"I don't know. Should I be?" Beth truly appeared naïve. 

Cynthia shook in head in wonderment. "Okay. Hold everything! Put out your 
cigarette. We're not going to smoke for, say," she looked at her Rolex, 
"another hour. We need to discuss a few things." 

Beth showed Cynthia a look of mock panic then raised her cigarette for two 
quick puffs. She inhaled both of them and stubbed her cigarette out in the 
large crystal ashtray on the coffee table. While exhaling a nice even 
stream of smoke she said, "Okay, I'm ready when you are." 

Cynthia noticed during her exhale that Beth was watching it intently. In 
fact, she noticed Beth always watched her exhales. "Let's step over to the 
kitchen counter. Just sit on the barstool and watch and listen. This is a 
simple three-point program. 

Cynthia opened the refrigerator and took out five 16-ounce bottles of 
spring water then she pulled seven different bottles of vitamins from her 
purse and arrayed a dosage of each on the counter. "Remember when you were 
here for your first lesson? I showed you my secret? Well, here it is again. 
Everyday I take all these." She pointed at 10 pills of various size and 
color. "There's A, B-12, heavy dosages of C and E, calcium, iron, selenium, 
antioxidants, etc. Also, very important, I drink a minimum of five 16-ounce 
bottles of water a day." 

"What about exercise?" Beth knew a lot about exercise although she hadn't 
completed a single workout since her first cigarette here a month ago. 

"That's point number three. The vitamins and water are one and two. I 
exercise everyday for 30 minutes, no more, no less. On Mondays, Wednesdays 
and Fridays it's aerobics followed by a long soak in the Jacuzzi. On 
Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays it's 30 minutes of lap swimming followed 
by another soak in the Jacuzzi." 

"Wow." Beth was impressed by Cynthia's commitment. Now she understood what 
Deb had told her. There are a lot of women at the health clubs that smoke. 
"That's great. How do you find the time to be so regular?" 

"My commitment to my smoking habit demands it. As you've noticed I smoke a 
full-flavor brand but I limit myself to smoking no more than a pack a day, 
sometimes less." 

"Is it hard...I mean to limit yourself?" 

"It was initially. But now it's all part of my routine - my swimming, my 
aerobics, my vitamins, my water and....my smoking. It's all balanced 
perfectly. Each one supports the other and together they hold each other in 
check. Hank makes sure I have a complete physical each year, that's part of 
his policy, and so far I'm in better health than most teenagers and 95% of 
all women in their twenties. I'll be thirty next year." 

"So will I," announced Beth. Then she decided to ask, "So you work for 
Hank, huh? What do you do?" Beth was curious to see if she'd admit that she 
was a teacher of smoking. 

"I thought I mentioned it to you. I'm his personal secretary. Actually it 
doesn't require a whole lot of my time but he keeps me on as a full-time 
employee anyway. I also do other things for him as well." 

Beth was smiling. "Such as...?" 

"Such as teach people things about Hank and his business. For example, one 
day Hank told me about a woman he'd met several months ago that he really 
liked. They'd been to dinner once and then he had her over to the house one 
evening for drinks. He told me that she was very attractive and very 
intelligent but had trouble relaxing and fitting in with social crowds her 
own age." 

Beth smiled and blushed. 

"He also told me she really wanted to learn how to dress more stylishly and 
how to cut loose and party when she wanted to. And that this young, 
intelligent, attractive woman was also very curious about smoking and that 
she needed lessons. It would all be part of an extensive makeover." 

Beth opened her mouth to say something but Cynthia continued. 

"When Hank's longtime friend Doug heard about this, he doubted that Hank, 
or anyone for that matter, could affect such a change in a woman that 
appeared so caught up in a self-centered, workaholic lifestyle. Hank was 
more concerned with helping this woman and didn't really care about a wager 
but nonetheless accepted a simple gentleman's bet from Doug - no money 
involved, just principles and a handshake." 

Beth again wanted to speak but Cynthia stopped her. 

"Why did Hank want to help this woman, you ask? Because he," Cynthia 
hesitated. "Because he...thought...that...he...thought that he..." She 
stopped again. "I'm sorry Beth. I think you get the picture." Cynthia was 
getting sad. "I taught you to dress the way you dress now, to relax and 
have a drink every now and then and, yes, to smoke." She took a deep breath 
then continued. "I did it because Hank asked me to." Cynthia couldn't wait 
any longer. She finally reached over with shaking hands and slid out one of 
her full-flavor Virginia Slims. The cigarette bounced in her lips as she 
readied her lighter. "I did it because, basically it's my job." 

Beth wasn't sure if it was her turn to talk yet. She watched Cynthia light 
her cigarette and quickly inhale several long puffs before exhaling. Beth 
smiled weakly. "I don't know what to say. I came over here to get some tips 
on how to curb my smoking and now...my God Cyn, what a story! I certainly 
didn't know there was that much to it." 

Cynthia pulled back. She was starting to act reserved and withdrawn. "Now 
you know. Instead of listening to Heather, maybe next time you'll come to 
me. Then just maybe you wouldn't have treated Hank so rudely the other 
night." She leaned back deeply into the sofa cushions for several more long 
puffs on her full-flavor VS. 

Beth felt she now understood but wanted to maintain some dignity. Cynthia's 
story still had tones of manipulation in it. "Can we go back for a moment 
to the subject of why I'm here?" 

Cynthia sat up and reached for her champagne. "Sure, whatever..." 

"Okay. I told you, I'm having trouble. You yourself were shocked when I 
admitted that I'm smoking more than a pack a day. How is it possible that 
I'm so addicted? And in such a relatively short period of time?" 

Cynthia sipped her champagne then topped off her glass. When she offered to 
refill her friend's glass, Beth held her hand over the top to stop her. 
"You're not addicted. Not fully anyway," she said rather nonchalantly. 

"What?" 

"Beth, I watched you. Maybe when you're putting on a show at Aunt Chilada's 
you take longer puffs but if you smoke like you just showed me when your 
alone, I don't think you're as hooked on nicotine as you think. But you are 
on your way." Cynthia took a long swallow from her glass. "You want to hear 
my expert, and not so humble opinion?" Cynthia was getting drunk. 

"I think I'm going to hear it whether I want to or not." 

"You're right, you are. I think you're hooked on watching the smoke come 
out of you more than on the drug itself. I think you're hooked on doing all 
the little mannerisms associated with smoking because they're fun. You're 
enjoying being a minor exhibitionist. Let me ask you another question. When 
you wake up at 3 AM with these 'cravings' do you smoke with the light on?" 

Beth knew the answer. Not only did she smoke with the light on - she would 
actually direct the beam to better highlight her exhales in bed. When she 
would awake and think about smoking, it was always the exhaling process 
that excited her. The inhaling was a means to the exhale. Beth didn't like 
Cynthia's interrogative tone but answered honestly. "Yes, I smoke with the 
light on." 

"Ah ha! Okay, the solution's simple. You want the 'doctor's' prescription? 
Balance, Beth. Balance. Before you become truly addicted, and you certainly 
will, start working out again, regularly. Drink 80 ounces of water everyday 
without exception and load yourself up with enough vitamins to make a meal 
out of. Between those three things your body will have less toxins in it 
than a newborn fresh from its mother's womb. Obviously at some point you 
will get addicted to the nicotine but just keep right on going with your 
routine and see to it that you don't go beyond a pack a day. Right now 
you're simply addicted to the process, not the drug itself." 

"You think?" 

Cynthia laughed great big. "Hell, I don't know. Sounds good though, huh?" 
Then she stifled her laughter. "No, all kidding aside, I believe it all 
comes down to the little phrase, 'All things in moderation'. We're a 
society obsessed with counting and trying to control the harmful things we 
put into our body whether it's fat, alcohol, red meat, caffeine or 
nicotine. Again, it all comes down to balance. But believe me, you'll know 
when you've achieved balance. It feels great!" 

Beth understood and decided to change gears. "What about Hank?" she asked 
pointblank. 

Cynthia flinched then put out her cigarette. "What about him?" 

"What do you feel about him?" 

"That's not important." Cynthia reached for another one of her cigarettes 
and offered one to Beth. "What's important is how you feel about him. How 
do you feel?" 

Beth reached out and accepted her first full-flavor cigarette ever and let 
Cynthia light them both. "I don't know yet." (Yes I do, said a voice inside 
her.) "I need more time. I think he's nice." (I love him, the voice said.) 
Beth appeared evasive for Cynthia's sake and quickly changed the subject 
again. "Say, these full-flavors are really nice," she spoke as smoke flowed 
from her nose. 

"I'd recommend that you don't get used to them too quickly. Hold out for as 
long as possible." 

Beth took a leisurely drag. "Umm. Why? These are dreamy." Again, more rich 
menthol smoke exited her body in a dense combination exhale. 

"Why, you ask? Because they are almost twice as strong as your 'Lights' 
brand over there." Cynthia watched Beth fearlessly take yet another puff. 

This time Beth chose a full mouth exhale. Seeing the thick smoke flow from 
her body was relaxing, reassuring. Beth leaned back and was silent for a 
short period. About halfway into her new stronger cigarette she softly 
spoke, "Thanks Cynthia. Thanks for everything. I'm glad you're my friend." 

Cynthia smiled back. "I'm glad too Beth." Again, Cynthia was touched. She 
didn't have many meaningful friendships and was quickly beginning to 
appreciate this one. 

The girls remained quiet as Beth drew one of her final puffs into her 
lungs. She held her smoke down and looked at Cynthia with her large, 
expressive eyes. She was willing to pass it to her in one of their smoky 
exchanges if Cynthia was willing. 

Cynthia looked back into Beth's eyes, recognizing what she had in mind. As 
much as she'd enjoyed their little smoking game in the past, she couldn't 
bring herself to make contact with Beth. Something inside her wasn't 
willing to go this far with the woman she knew had won Hank's heart. 
Finally, Cynthia stood up and made her way to the doorway while Beth wasted 
her rich stream into the air. 

They hugged one last time on the porch. Beth recognized Cynthia's powerful 
loyalty to Hank and the deep feelings she still harbored for him. She also 
respected Cynthia for her brave altruism and honesty by standing back and 
allowing a relationship to take seed between Hank and herself. It was clear 
that Cynthia still loved Hank. Beth wasn't sure what they'd shared in the 
past but it was obvious that Cynthia was willing to step aside - willing to 
step aside because she cared that much for Hank's true happiness. 

Cynthia waved as she watched Beth's car disappear down the driveway. She 
was envious and felt Beth was a very lucky woman. She just wondered if Beth 
was smart enough to truly recognize it. When she got back inside the 
casita, Cynthia noticed the champagne was gone as she sadly lit another 
cigarette. Her tears were coming back - big thick ones that found their way 
to her open mouth during her inhales. This time no amount of smoking was 
going to cure the deep melancholy invading her soul. 

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