Ellie, Part 3

   This fictional account contains adult language and sexual 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 
2005 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 or using it. 

   ELLIE 
   
   Author's Note: This story was inspired in part by anon2's classic "Miss 
Vicki" from 1995. My story has a little different plot, but I encourage you 
to go back and read (or re-read again) "Miss Vicki" and enjoy one of the 
true classics in the archive. I also hope you enjoy this one of mine. 
   
   3. A Real Smoker. 
   
   The next morning Ellie showed up at breakfast with a big grin on her 
pretty little face. She ate her toast and drank her orange juice rapidly. I 
knew what she was waiting for. She was waiting for me to give her a 
cigarette of her own so she could smoke the whole thing. 
   
   Truthfully, I was tired of Ellie sharing mine. I didn't like her nagging 
me constantly for more `treats.' It'd be so much easier to just let her 
smoke her own cigarettes, even if it only further sealed her eventual 
descent into full-fledged smoker status. I thought about that as I prepared 
to give her only the second cigarette I'd ever let her smoke solo, not 
counting the one I made her smoke involuntarily before Christmas. 
   
   Ellie's tall, like her dad. Jim's six five, and even at 13 Ellie was 
five eight. Tall and gangly, she had medium length dishwater blond hair 
that fell over her shoulders. Her posture was perfect, and her skin totally 
unblemished. Her facial features, if not model gorgeous, were strikingly 
pretty. I'm not impartial since I'm her mom, but I always thought Ellie was 
a very pretty little girl. 
   
   As I looked at her that day, though, I knew her days of being a `little 
girl' were over now. She was maturing. Her breasts were starting to 
blossom. Hell, more than started. She had a much larger chest than her 
friend Wendy, for example, or any of the other girls at her school. She 
easily passed for 15 or even 16, even if she was still months away from 
being 14. It made me feel a little better about giving her a cigarette of 
her own to smoke. If anyone caught her smoking, she looked almost old 
enough to do it. 
   
   Ellie graciously accepted a B&H Menthol 100. Before I handed her my 
lighter, however, I gave a short little speech about how to light up a 
cigarette, how to hold it properly, and so on. I wanted Ellie to smoke like 
a lady, not some female hoodlum. She nodded. She understood. By the time 
she clicked my lighter, she knew exactly what to do and how to do it the 
right way. If my teenage daughter was really gonna be a smoker, and by now 
I knew it was inevitable, at least she wouldn't look like an adolescent 
thug doing it. 
   
   Ellie lit up, took an initial drag, and smiled broadly at me as she 
pulled smoke into her chest. Meanwhile I lit up one for myself. I felt 
strangely excited about it. I didn't want to miss the opportunity to smoke 
a cigarette with my daughter for the very first time, although undoubtedly 
it'd be only the first of many shared smoking experiences between us. I 
knew that. 
   
   "Mom, this is way cool," she giggled happily. "Don't you think?" 
   
   I looked across the breakfast table. Ellie's cigarette was cocked by her 
head as she expectantly awaited my answer. Smoking made her look older, 
more mature than a 13 year old. She looked like - a young woman, and a very 
pretty young woman at that. 
   
   But what about her being a smoker? Did I think it was "way cool" like 
she did? Yeah, from my perspective I'm afraid that I did think it was `way 
cool.' I liked smoking with Ellie. Despite all the health bullshit and 
despite what Jim or others might think of me letting her, I liked it. Maybe 
I'm a terrible mom for feeling that way, but at that moment I didn't care. 
I was just glad to have a chance to share, truly share, the smoking 
experience with my lovely daughter. 
   
   "Yeah, Ellie, it is way cool," I finally smiled back. "Remember the 
first time when I said I was glad that you liked it, when I let you have 
your first `treat' in January?" She nodded. "Well, I meant it then and I 
still mean it. I'm glad you like it. God, you know how much I love to 
smoke. If it was up to me I'd let you smoke all the time, as much as you 
want, because I understand how `way cool' it is. But unfortunately, it's 
not up to either of us." 
   
   "I won't let you get in trouble for letting me smoke, Mom," Ellie 
solemnly pledged. "I won't smoke anywhere but at home and I won't tell a 
soul, especially not Daddy. I can manage it. I know I can." She put her 
left hand on top of mine from across the table. "Thanks for being so cool 
about it, Mom." With her right hand she dragged on her cigarette. "I'll 
never forget this. I promise." 
   
   I sighed. "Yeah, I'll never forget it, either, honey," I assured her. 
"Our first cigarette together." 
   
   "Not our last, though," she giggled impishly. "Definitely not our last!" 
   
   I meant to let Ellie only smoke three or four cigarettes a day. But 
smoking with her suddenly seemed normal, so right. All limits quickly fell 
by the wayside. Soon she was up to six or seven cigarettes a day. It didn't 
seem right to deny Ellie when I was lighting up all the time. I frankly 
liked the camaraderie and she loved to smoke. She was no pretender, either. 
She looked and acted like a smoker now, a real one. In her mind, and mine, 
too, I'm afraid, she became a smoker. I treated her like a smoker. I 
stopped thinking of her smoking as a concession. It became a right, 
something I felt my lovely daughter deserved. Hell, she deserved to 
luxuriate in the smoking experience she cherished as much as I did. Once I 
convinced myself of that, any further talk of limits or `should' or `ought' 
simply disappeared. 
   
   Soon Ellie settled in at half a pack a day and frankly, I didn't give a 
shit. I liked living with another smoker again. I liked it when I lived 
with my roommate in college and I liked it now. My only lingering doubt was 
how her dad would react when he found out. I knew eventually Jim would 
figure out what was going on. But I pushed that concern out of my mind. 
We'd deal with it when it happened. 
   
   Ellie begged off the next weekend she was scheduled to spend with Jim. 
She gave him some lame excuse why she couldn't go to his house that 
Saturday and Sunday. Jim didn't push back. I guessed he had a new 
girlfriend he was shacking up with. Since our divorce he went through lots 
of girlfriends. Part of our agreement was they weren't to be there when 
Ellie visited him. Jim seemed just as glad as Ellie to skip a weekend, 
probably because he was trying to cozy up to yet another new girlfriend. At 
least, that's what I figured. 
   
   Shortly thereafter I got a call from my good friend Lisa. It was very 
peculiar. 
   
   "Linda, hi, it's Lisa. Hey, I'm wondering. Ellie hasn't invited Wendy 
over to play this summer. Last year they got together all the time. So I 
was wondering. Is anything wrong?" 
   
   I gulped. I knew why Ellie hadn't invited Wendy over. She didn't want to 
have to abstain from smoking while her best friend visited our house. But I 
couldn't admit that to Lisa. 
   
   "No, Lisa, nothing's wrong. Ellie's just been busy with her summer 
reading program." 
   
   A pause. "Well, Wendy really wants to get together with Ellie. The poor 
kid's going crazy home alone all day." 
   
   "I thought you had a sitter for Wendy. Didn't you last summer?" 
   
   "Yeah, but now Wendy's 13, so we agreed she didn't need one anymore. 
She's really too old for a baby sitter. Wendy felt weird having that girl 
around all summer last year. So since she's a year older, this year I 
decided to let her stay home alone while I'm at work." Lisa laughed; she 
seemed nervous. "But Wendy's bored out of her mind. I thought she and Lisa 
might get together at your house a day or two a week this summer. Is that 
okay with you?" 
   
   Oh, it was fine with me. I like Wendy. She's been Ellie's best friend 
for years. I'm used to having her over. But I knew Ellie would freak out if 
she couldn't smoke all day. 
   
   "Uh, Lisa, I need to think about it. I mean, I don't mean to offend you 
or anything, but some stuff's going on this summer that might make it a 
problem." 
   
   "Oh God! I don't believe it. What do you mean, `stuff?'" 
   
   I hedged. "Well, I'd rather not talk about it with you, Lisa." 
   
   "Shit," my friend snapped angrily. "God, he told you, didn't he? That 
bastard! So that's what you're referring to? That's why you don't want to 
have my daughter over?" 
   
   I was confused. "Told me what? Who? I don't know what you mean." 
   
   "God, don't play dumb with me. Shit, I was afraid of this. He promised 
me he wouldn't tell you. I knew you and Ellie'd take it out on Wendy. It's 
not her fault. I promise you, she has nothing to do with it." 
   
   More confusion. "Lisa, can you speak in plain English? Tell me what you 
mean." 
   
   I heard a telltale click. It was a lighter. Lisa was lighting up a 
cigarette, which she did inevitably whenever she felt out of sorts. Her 
voice raged with bitterness. "God, I didn't want you to know. I told him 
that. But he must've told you anyway. You and Ellie are taking it out on 
Wendy just because I'm seeing Jim!" 
   
   "You're what? Say - say that again?" 
   
   "You know what I said. You're mad because I'm seeing your ex-husband. 
That's why you told Ellie not to invite Wendy over once school let out. But 
it's not right to take out your frustrations with me on poor Wendy." 
   
   I gasped. Lisa's marriage broke up a couple years earlier. She dated a 
number of different guys since then. But I had no idea that my ex was one 
of them. 
   
   "Lisa," I stammered. "Are you saying you're involved with Jim now?" 
   
   For the first time Lisa seemed to realize her mistake. "You sound 
surprised. Oh my God! You mean you didn't know?" 
   
   "No, I had no idea." 
   
   "Oh shit. God, I'm such an asshole. I assumed that's what you meant when 
you said something's going on that makes it hard for you to have Wendy 
over." 
   
   "No, I was talking about something else. But Lisa, let me assure you. I 
have no problem with you seeing Jim. The thing is, are you sure you know 
what you're doing? After all, fidelity isn't exactly Jim's strong suit!" 
   
   Lisa sighed. "So, you're really not mad?" 
   
   "No, not at all," I confirmed. "Jim and I get along great now. I don't 
give a damn who he's with. It's fine. I'm just worried he'll hurt you like 
he hurt me five years ago." 
   
   Lisa brightened considerably. "Don't worry `bout me. The reason Jim hurt 
you was you expected him to be faithful. I don't expect that. To be blunt, 
I'm mostly in this for the sex." 
   
   I startled. Our discussion was growing a wee bit uncomfortable. "Yeah, 
Lisa, you're right. Jim was always fabulous in the sex department. I never 
had any complaints there." 
   
   "You know I've dated a lot since Harold and I got divorced three years 
ago." Clearly Lisa felt more comfortable talking once she knew I wasn't mad 
at her for sleeping with Jim. "Not a lot of guys want exclusive 
relationships with gals our age. You know?" 
   
   I nodded. Yeah, I _did_ know. 
   
   "I like Jim. I always liked him, even when you were married." She 
paused. "You know what I mean. I mean, shit, I never -." 
   
   "Relax, Lisa. I know what you meant." 
   
   "So anyway, Jim and I ran into each other at a party a couple months 
back. We started talking and pretty soon we were -." 
   
   "Lisa, I don't need details," I laughed. "So basically, what you mean 
is, you and Jim are mostly just fucking each other?" 
   
   "Well, not just that. Jim and I have fun doing other things. It's just 
that I don't insist on Jim being faithful to me, and he doesn't demand that 
I be faithful, either. It works out pretty well. We understand each other." 
   
   "So that's where Jim was last weekend, with you? Ellie called him to 
cancel their usual time together. It was Jim's weekend to have her. But he 
seemed content not to have her over, so I figured he must be with a new 
girl. I never dreamed his latest female conquest would turn out to be you!" 
   
   "Thanks for understanding. I'm so glad you're not mad." A pause. "But if 
that's not the reason, then why haven't you guys invited Wendy over this 
summer? What's going on?" 
   
   I hesitated. Now _I_ felt nervous. So I reached for a cigarette and lit 
up. 
   
   "Lisa, I don't think I can tell you. It's kind of complicated." 
   
   "We tell each other everything, girl," Lisa laughed. "You can trust me 
with anything. We never keep secrets, do we? Hell, it drove me fuckin' 
crazy not to tell you about Jim. I'm so used to being totally up front with 
you. So what are you holding back from me?" 
   
   "It sort of involves Jim, at least indirectly." I hesitated, almost lost 
for words. "I feel too embarrassed. I'm not sure I'm comfortable telling 
anyone, honestly." 
   
   "Something's bugging you, honey," Lisa went on. "You _need_ to tell. I 
promise I won't tell Jim if that's what you're worried about. I promise, my 
lips are sealed. Come on, spill the beans. I love secrets." 
   
   I heard my friend light up another cigarette. I smiled. Yeah, of all the 
people I knew, Lisa was the last one I'd ever expect to freak out about 
what I was about to tell her. 
   
   "Okay, but promise to never to tell a soul. Not Jim, not your daughter, 
no one. Got it?" 
   
   She giggled. "Sure, okay. God, this must be good. What is it? You're 
getting married? You're pregnant? What?" 
   
   "Nothing like that," I laughed. "No, it involves Ellie." I took a deep 
breath. "I've started to let Ellie smoke," I whispered. "But only with me 
around the house." Somehow I thought that qualification made it less 
damning. 
   
   I waited. Silence. I didn't know if Lisa was horrified, mildly amused, 
or totally disgusted by my unexpected disclosure. 
   
   In retrospect, I shouldn't have told Lisa that Ellie was smoking. I 
didn't need to. But for years Lisa and I shared almost everything. I gave 
her the details of my divorce and she did the same with hers a few years 
later. Lisa was my closest friend. And, she was an incurable smoker. If she 
felt disgusted by what I told her, then there was no one with whom I could 
trust this news. 
   
   Finally I heard a laugh. It wasn't a disgusted laugh, either. "No shit? 
Oh my God, Linda, that's too funny. You actually let Ellie smoke?" 
   
   "Yeah," I admitted hesitantly. "That's why Ellie hasn't asked Wendy to 
visit this summer. Ellie's gotten used to smoking regularly. But I told her 
she can't smoke with friends over, because this smoking thing has got to 
stay quiet. If Jim knew, he'd have a fit." 
   
   I just gave the most damaging news imaginable to the woman who was 
currently sharing a bed with my ex-husband. What in hell was I thinking? 
But I trusted Lisa. She meant what she said. She'd never hurt Ellie or me 
intentionally. I felt sure of it. I awaited her reaction. 
   
   "Oh my God," she replied at long last. "I don't believe it. It's just 
too funny." 
   
   Now I was confused. "Why, Lisa? Why is it funny?" 
   
   "It's funny because Wendy's smoking, too," she said jubilantly. 
"Seriously, she is, Linda. That's why it's so hilarious. Holy shit, I 
wonder if our girls know about each other?" 
   
   "Wait a minute, Lisa. You said that Wendy smokes?" 
   
   Lisa seemed glad to talk about it, probably since she knew I'd 
understand. Not only do I smoke, but I just confessed I let my daughter do 
the same thing. Her tone got more comfortable. 
   
   "It started six months ago. For awhile I suspected Wendy might be 
stealing my cigarettes and smoking behind my back. Every night I smelled 
fresh smoke in the house when I got home from work. She thought I wouldn't 
notice. But I know the difference between stale smoke and fresh smoke. I 
knew Wendy had to be smoking when she got home from school. I set a trap. I 
left an open pack in the house after counting the number of cigarettes 
inside. The next day I checked it. It was missing a couple. So I confronted 
Wendy. The poor girl nearly shit her pants! At first she denied it, then 
tried to tell me it was only occasional. But I grilled her and she finally 
admitted she'd been smoking a few cigarettes every afternoon for months." 
   
   "This was in January?" God, I thought, the same time Ellie started to 
smoke. 
   
   "Yep. At first I did what a good mother's supposed to do. I told her she 
couldn't. But you know Wendy, she's a fireball. She said I couldn't stop 
her unless I quit. She'd keep stealing my cigarettes and smoking when I 
wasn't home. Hell, Linda, I work all day. There was no way for me to police 
what Wendy did after school, and she knew it. But I grounded her anyway. I 
even made her quit the tennis team as punishment. Remember?" 
   
   I nodded. Last winter Ellie told me Wendy quit tennis, and wasn't 
allowed to do anything with Ellie or her other friends for awhile. Ellie 
didn't know why. So that was it! 
   
   "I grounded Wendy for a month," Lisa went on. "But she still wouldn't 
quit smoking. So I tried hiding my cigarettes. Then I locked `em up so. 
Nothing worked. Somehow she kept finding `em and kept smoking, daring me to 
do something more drastic. I didn't know what to do. For awhile I just 
ranted. But then I remembered. Hell, I started smoking when I was 13, too, 
and nothing my mom did or said made any difference to me. So after a month 
of constant fighting, I finally gave up. I told Wendy she could smoke, but 
I made her promise never to smoke at school or anywhere else but at home." 
   
   "Oh my God, Lisa," I laughed. "It's so weird. That's just what happened 
to Ellie and me, except I helped Ellie ease into it more than you." I 
explained the whole story of Ellie's slow descent into smoking regularly 
and her rising nicotine addiction. I told Lisa that Ellie was now smoking 
about half a pack a day. 
   
   "I don't know how much Wendy smokes," Lisa had to admit. "I guess the 
same as Ellie. But hell, I'm not sure. I just buy a carton and when the 
cigarettes are gone, they're gone, and I buy more. I pay no attention to 
how much either of us smokes. So Wendy could be smoking more. I kinda 
stopped worrying about it, to tell the truth. There's really nothing I can 
do to stop her now. She's a smoker." She paused. "Do you suppose Ellie 
knows?" 
   
   "I don't think so. I don't think Ellie told a soul of her own habit. I 
tried to scare her to death about her dad finding out." It was my turn to 
pause. "Does Jim know Wendy smokes?" 
   
   "Yeah. He wasn't happy, either," Lisa smirked. "But I told Jim it's none 
of his goddamn business what my daughter does. If I decide to let Wendy 
smoke, I will. It's my decision, not his. Last weekend Jim slept at my 
house Friday night and Saturday. He stayed here with me, since I can't 
leave Wendy alone on weekends. So sure, Jim's seen Wendy smoke. She's 
smoked at my house lots longer than Jim's been sleeping here, that's for 
sure." She laughed naughtily. 
   
   Suddenly I saw a possible solution to Ellie's problem, how to get past 
her inability to smoke while spending weekends with Jim. 
   
   "Hey, Lisa, I have an idea. I'm trying to solve a problem. Last time 
Ellie was miserable spending a weekend with Jim. The poor kid can't go two 
days in a row without smoking anymore. But I can't let him know she smokes. 
He'd be livid. Know what I mean?" 
   
   "Yeah. So, what's your idea?" 
   
   "Here it is. I'll tell Jim I know all about you two sleeping together 
and that I don't mind." 
   
   "God, Linda, that'd be great. He'll be glad to hear that, just like I 
am. Thanks." 
   
   "No problem," I said sincerely. 
   
   "But what's the idea?" 
   
   "I'll suggest that the next time Jim is to spend a weekend with Ellie, 
both of them stay at your place with you and Wendy. Ellie can sleep with 
Wendy while you and Jim stay in your room. Ellie can spend time with her 
dad, but at your place with Wendy there. Most important, Ellie can smoke in 
Wendy's room and Jim won't know. Bingo, problem solved!" I paused. "What do 
you think? Does it work for you? Do you mind helping my daughter secretly 
smoke at your house?" 
   
   "It's fine with me," Lisa agreed. "It'll also please Wendy. She hates it 
when a guy like Jim spends a weekend here. But if Ellie comes Wendy will 
have someone of her own to hang out with, plus she and Ellie can smoke." 
She giggled. "God, Linda, aren't we pathetic? Jesus, here we are, scheming 
to find ingenious ways to let our 13 year old girls smoke cigarettes!" 
   
   "Yeah, we're bad," I agreed, but not believing it. I liked Ellie smoking 
and I told Lisa so. 
   
   "You know, once I got used to it, I kinda liked having Wendy smoke, 
too," she admitted. "I like having another smoker around all the time. 
Yeah, it's not good for her to smoke, I know, and supposedly she's too 
young. But what the hell? I recognize why she wants to. I did it when I was 
her age, and smoking hasn't hurt me yet. So why deny my daughter the same 
pleasure I wanted as a teenager? I'm glad you feel the same way about 
Ellie. I'm glad we both did the same thing." She paused. "Hey, that means 
Wendy can smoke when she visits your house, right?" 
   
   "Sure, I don't know why not," I agreed. "But let's not tell them. Not 
yet. You said Wendy wants to come over. Great. How `bout tomorrow? Don't 
tell her Ellie's smoking, and I won't tell Ellie that Wendy is, either. We 
can surprise them both tomorrow morning when you drop Wendy off before 
work. What do you say?" 
   
   Lisa agreed with my plan. I knew ultimately Ellie would be delighted, 
assuming that she didn't already know her best friend had already 
succumbing to smoking. 
   
   At first Ellie was glad when I told her Wendy was coming over, until she 
realized it meant she couldn't smoke. So the next morning she smoked like a 
fiend till Wendy and her mom arrived. She had five cigarettes with 
breakfast. I didn't stop her or slow her down. It would ruin the surprise. 
The same girl who a month earlier apparently never smoked a whole cigarette 
now effortlessly polished off five in a row. It was clear my daughter's 
budding nicotine addiction was escalating at an astonishing pace. 
   
   Unknown to us, Wendy and Lisa had the same discussion about her not 
smoking at our house, so before they arrived the other 13 year old likewise 
loaded up by chain-smoking. When they got to our house at eight, Ellie and 
Wendy hugged each other joyously. They were glad to see each other. Neither 
one smelled the smell of stale smoke on the other because they both reeked 
of it. Meanwhile I invited Lisa inside to chat for a minute for she left 
for work. 
   
   Lisa and Wendy sat at the kitchen table and Lisa eyed the ashtray. It 
was overflowing with cigarette butts. One person could never have smoked so 
many cigarettes so early in the day. But one person didn't, and Lisa knew 
it. 
   
   I poured Wendy some orange juice and gave it to her. "So, Wendy, what's 
new with you these days? Are you doing anything new or different this 
summer?" 
   
   "Well, I don't have a babysitter," the brunette teen politely replied. 
"I'm not doing much of anything. Just staying home, I guess. I watch TV, 
read, play video games; all the usual stuff." 
   
   I decided to shock my daughter first. "Ellie, why don't you tell Wendy 
what you've been doing this summer?" 
   
   Ellie looked. She didn't understand what I meant. "Oh, I joined a summer 
reading program at the library," she smiled respectfully, trying to be 
responsive. "It's okay, I guess." 
   
   "No, dear, not that," I chided playfully. "You know. The other thing?" 
   
   She stared blankly. "Mom, what do you mean?" 
   
   "Come on, Ellie, you know," I teased mercilessly. "Your favorite new 
activity. You can tell Wendy. Or better yet, why don't you show her?" 
   
   Another stare. This time I saw both confusion and fear in her eyes. 
"Mom, what are you talking about?" 
   
   Wendy sipped her orange juice, totally unaware of what I was doing to 
poor Ellie. So I playfully pestered my daughter again. "Don't play dumb, 
Ellie. Show Wendy and her mom what you learned how to do." Picking up my 
pack, I shook out a cigarette. "Go on." 
   
   In disbelief Ellie stared at me vacantly. She gave me a quizzical look. 
She didn't move. 
   
   I laughed merrily and held up the cigarette from my pack. Rather than 
put it in my mouth, however, I leaned over and deftly slid it between 
Ellie's bewildered lips. It hung there for a moment. I smiled at an equally 
stunned Wendy, winked at Ellie and readied my lighter. 
   
   "Come on, honey. Show Wendy and Lisa. Make me proud. Show off for me. 
Smoke!" 
   
   I clicked my lighter. I touched the flame to the tip of the unlit 
cigarette dangling from Ellie's mouth. Reflexively she brought it to life, 
and instinctively took a modest puff. 
   
   "See, you guys?" I proudly exclaimed. "Ellie learned to smoke. Isn't 
that cool?" 
   
   Lisa couldn't stand it. She burst out laughing, turning to her befuddled 
daughter. "See that, Wendy? God, Ellie smokes." She looked at my 13 year 
old and nodded. "Hell, Ellie seems damn good at it. So don't you want to 
prove that anything Ellie can do you can do better?" 
   
   Lisa opened her purse and got out her Virginia Slims. She passed one to 
Wendy. "Come on, baby. You can do it. Don't let me down now!" 
   
   Finally Ellie grasped what was going on. "Oh my God. Mom, does this mean 
that -?" 
   
   I smiled. "Yeah, honey, you've got it. That's exactly what it means!" 
   
   Meanwhile Wendy understood, too. She eagerly accepted a light from her 
mother. The brunette teen had an equally big smile on her face. She 
realized Lisa and I set them up. So Wendy hit on her VS and sucked an 
enormous volume of smoke into her own chest. She grinned at her best 
friend. 
   
   "Ellie, so you're smoking, too? Wow, I had no idea." 
   
   "Me, neither," Ellie giggled. She turned to me. "Mom, does this mean 
that Wendy and I can both smoke while we hang out here today?" 
   
   She shrugged. "I dunno," I said as I winked at Lisa. "You'll have to ask 
her mom." 
   
   Lisa spoke before Ellie asked her. "Yes, girls, that's what it means. 
Wendy, Ellie's mom and I talked last night and we found out you girls both 
have traveled parallel paths the last few months." She gazed back and 
forth. "And apparently without either of you knowing it. Right?" 
   
   Both girls nodded. "Yeah, we had no idea." 
   
   "Ellie, once we realized the only reason you didn't invite Wendy over 
was because you couldn't smoke while she was here, we mothers decided to 
solve the problem." Lisa smiled. "Both of us let you smoke. We decided it 
makes sense for you to do it together this summer." 
   
   "Wow, cool," Wendy grinned. "Isn't this great, Ellie?" 
   
   My daughter eagerly agreed. 
   
   Thus began a further cementing of our girls' friendship. Ellie and Wendy 
began to spend more time together, mostly at our house, hanging out, 
talking and smoking. Lisa routinely dropped Wendy off before work and 
picked her up again late each afternoon. 
   
   I told you about the perverse satisfaction I got from smoking with 
Ellie. Wendy smoking with us increased my feelings of delight. It was a 
good thing Lisa didn't care how much Wendy smoked, because her pretty, 
petite daughter went through nearly a pack every day at our house that 
summer. I loved watching sweet little Wendy unapologetically share the same 
love for nicotine and smoking that Ellie and I do. I guess I must be a 
wicked and terrible person. But for me, that summer was wonderful. I had 
two smoking buddies around all day long. We related more like sisters than 
being a grown-up versus two teenagers. Smoking with the teenage girls made 
me feel like a teenager myself, and simultaneously made them feel like 
grown-ups. It was such a deal. It was perfect! 
   
   I told Jim that Lisa spilled the beans to me about their relationship. 
But I assured him I wasn't upset he was sleeping with my best friend. I 
long since had lost any romantic feelings for the jerk, but I did warn him 
that if he hurt Lisa I'd figure out how to pay him back. Jim laughed and 
assured me that he and Lisa had an open and non-exclusive relationship, 
confirming everything Lisa said to me, but that he liked Lisa and certainly 
never intended to hurt her. I next mentioned my idea that Ellie perhaps 
should join him at Lisa's house on the weekends they were scheduled to 
spend together, and Jim thought that was a great idea. 
   
   So two weeks later, on a Friday evening, Ellie left our house to visit 
Wendy, to take advantage of the secret smoking arrangement Lisa and I 
devised. Jim was there with Lisa, and Ellie slept in a sleeping bag on 
Wendy's floor. By staying in Wendy's room, Ellie was able to smoke, almost 
at will. Both that weekend and each weekend that followed, Jim never did 
catch on. Meanwhile, by distracting Jim, Lisa made sure the girls had ample 
opportunities to indulge themselves and smoke together. It turned out to be 
a perfect solution to a problem that originally seemed unsolvable. 
   
   By the time school resumed in the fall, Ellie was a clearly full-fledged 
smoker and had been for nearly three months. That was how she thought of 
herself now, and of course, it was how I thought of her, too. She was a 
smoker every bit as much as I was. She smoked my brand, Benson & Hedges 
Menthol 100's. Her consumption rose steadily that summer. When school was 
ready to start, Ellie was averaging over 20 cigarettes a day, sometimes 
more. 
   
   It was funny how my initial fears about Ellie becoming a smoker 
evaporated. Maybe they went up in smoke. I guess they did just that. 
   
   Next I worried how Ellie would adjust to being in school as a smoker. 
Since she and Wendy were about to start high school, I agreed to let Ellie 
take her cigarettes with her every day. Lisa offered Wendy the same 
privilege. We knew otherwise they couldn't make it through a day. They 
simply had to smoke now. Their addictions were too developed, too strong to 
survive the extended abstinence necessitated by classes. Ellie and Wendy 
soon found others in their class who smoke and made friends with 
upper-class smokers. By the end of the first week Ellie reported she and 
Wendy were sneaking off campus for lunch each day to indulge their habits 
with no difficulty. I was relieved. It was hard for Ellie being in class 
all morning and all afternoon without smoking, but she managed. She 
adjusted. Smokers always do. And Ellie was most definitely a smoker. 
   
   The night of Ellie's 14th birthday in September, I presented her with a 
special gift. As a cigarette dangled from her young lips, she unwrapped my 
present and let out a delighted sigh. "Oh Mom," she gasped. "It's gorgeous. 
Thanks so much. I'll use it all the time and treasure it always!" 
   
   In her trembling hand my daughter held a gold lighter, inscribed simply 
with the word "Ellie," a fitting tribute and testimony to her identity as a 
14 year old smoker. She dragged on her cigarette and took it from her 
mouth. Turning her head she smiled widely as she began to exhale over 
several successive breaths. 
   
   "Now, two more little presents. Nothing fancy, but I think you'll find 
them useful." 
   
   Ellie opened two more small packages. The first was a tin of Peppermint 
Altoids. The second was a small bottle of spray perfume. 
   
   I laughed. "Now that you smoke all the time, I decided you needed some 
stuff to cover your tracks. Breath mints and perfume are definitely a 
smoking girl's best friends, honey!" 
   
   "Thanks, Mom," she grinned, sniffing the perfume bottle. "Thanks so much 
for supporting me as a smoker. I don't know how to thank you for everything 
you've done." 
   
   "No thanks needed, Ellie. I like having you be a fellow smoker. This 
amazing journey we took over the last nine months has been as fun for me as 
I suspect it's been for you!" 
   
   My daughter paused. "Do you know what, Mom?" 
   
   "No, darling, what?" 
   
   "Today isn't just my birthday. Did you know it's also the first 
anniversary of something else important?" 
   
   "Oh? What's that?" 
   
   Ellie grinned. "It was one year ago tonight that I took my very first 
puff on one of your cigarettes!" 
   
   I was surprised. "Really?" 
   
   "Yeah," Ellie went on, ashing her cigarette and then hitting on it. "It 
was on my birthday. I'd been thinking about all the things you said about 
smoking. You know, the reasons you always said you'd never quit? I thought 
a lot about what you said It made me curious. I decided I wanted to try it 
myself. But I was afraid. So the day I turned 13 last year was the day I 
decided to screw up my courage and just do it. So I did." 
   
   I frowned. "But how did you manage? As I remember, Wendy came over to 
spent the night on your birthday last year. Oh my God! Did you and she -?" 
   
   Ellie nodded. "Yep, I told Wendy about my plan ahead of time. She was 
scared to death, of course, but had to admit that like me she was kinda 
curious about smoking, because of how much her mom likes it, too." She 
dragged on her B&H Menthol. "That night I stole one of your cigarettes and 
an ashtray. In my room, at eleven o'clock after you went to bed, I lit up 
my first cigarette ever, and Wendy and I smoked it." 
   
   "But I don't get it, honey. It makes no sense. When I caught you trying 
one of my cigarettes that first time, it was months later, before 
Christmas. You said you only tried it a few times and only recently." I 
narrowed my eyes. "Were you lying to me?" 
   
   She laughed and released a mammoth exhale. "Mom, I never told you, but I 
think you deserve to know the truth now. That was all bullshit. Actually, 
I'd been secretly smoking for months by then, ever since my birthday when I 
turned 13." 
   
   "But how -? I mean, I saw you that night in December. Hell, girl, you 
only took a very little, tentative puff off my cigarette and you sure 
didn't inhale. I noticed." 
   
   Ellie grinned. "Only because I heard you coming." She cocked her head 
and drew on her cigarette. "So I purposely didn't inhale that one time. 
What you didn't see was what I did before you came back in the room. That 
was the third puff I had from your cigarette that night. The first two, I 
inhaled like I always did, like I do now." She took a final drag and pulled 
the smoke into her chest before crushing her cigarette in the ashtray. 
   
   "But I don't get it, Ellie. You turned so pale when I forced you to 
smoke that whole cigarette by yourself and made you inhale. You got sick. 
Didn't you?" 
   
   My daughter gleefully reached for another B&H. She lit it up. "Well, 
that's what I wanted you to think, but it's not what really happened. I 
purposely hyper-ventilated so it'd make me look all flushed. My coughing 
was totally faked. So was my pretending to throw up in the bathroom. 
Actually, I totally enjoyed that cigarette. It was great!" Seeing my 
disbelief, she grinned wider. "Pretty good acting, huh?" 
   
   "I guess," I agreed. I was still a little confused. All an act? Hmm. I 
got myself another cigarette and followed her lead by lighting it up. "So 
you weren't a novice that night in December? It that true?" 
   
   "Mom, here's the truth. On my 13th birthday, the first time, Wendy was 
with me but didn't like it. I did, though. I loved it. After that I started 
smoking as much as I could. It wasn't easy because you're home most of the 
time. So I purposely sniffed your smoke. I'd already been doing that for a 
long time. I think it helped me adjust to smoking better than Wendy. She 
thought she didn't want to do it again. But I did. So the next time I was 
home alone I smoked again. And again the next time, and the next time after 
that. I got used to it pretty fast." She paused to drag. "I was still a 
novice, but I liked it." She pursed her lips to exhale. "When you finally 
caught me smoking just before Christmas, I'd already smoked a couple dozen 
cigarettes, and I knew I wanted to keep smoking. I just didn't know how to 
make it happen." 
   
   "But then that night the next month, on the couch, in January. What was 
that?" 
   
   "It was just what it looked like. I hadn't had a cigarette in days and 
the smell of yours was driving me crazy. I tried to breathe in your 
side-stream smoke. I didn't mean for you to see me do it. But I'd been 
doing that for weeks. That night in January was just the first time you 
noticed." She grinned. "But your sympathetic response was more than I ever 
dreamed would happen. I didn't want to look too accomplished, so I 
purposely made my first puffs look inexperienced. You offered me more and, 
by God, I took them. Then you suggested the `treats' game. I liked that 
game. I always did. Even though I was also smoking behind your back, I 
still liked the `treats.' It was fun sharing your cigarettes, and it did 
help increase my addiction." 
   
   I shook my head. "So, you smoked behind my back the whole time, 
supplementing it with the `treats?' But then why did you keep pretending 
you never smoked on your own?" 
   
   "I was 13, Mom. I couldn't just ask you to let me smoke. I knew you'd 
say `no.' So I had to move it slow, gradually getting you comfortable with 
the idea. Your offer to share puffs was a shock, but so nice of you and 
also perfect. When you suggested the game it convinced me that eventually 
you'd let me smoke. You started to see me smoking as not such a bad thing. 
I knew it had to be your idea to work, and it did. You did get used to it. 
Slowly you got comfortable with the idea of me smoking. So once you offered 
the `treats' game, I knew ultimately it'd happen. I just had to bide my 
team, but always pushing for more `treats.'" 
   
   "And the piano recital in May?" 
   
   "Totally innocent, just what it seemed. I was desperate that morning. I 
relied on your `treats' for nicotine and I really was freaking out. I 
needed to smoke. But you took care of me. You know, I could've easily 
smoked a whole cigarette. But I didn't push it. I didn't want you to know 
how truly addicted I was. So it just helped you take one more baby step in 
the direction I wanted you to go. By the way, though, thanks for doing 
that. I doubt I could've played my piano piece that morning without that 
little nicotine fix." 
   
   I nodded. "So then, once school was out for the summer you intentionally 
started to ask for more treats. But what about the thing with Wendy? Was 
that staged for my benefit, too?" 
   
   Ellie laughed. "Nope. I was as surprised as you to learn Wendy was 
smoking. After my 13th birthday she swore she never wanted to smoke. She 
even said I shouldn't, so I never brought it up again. But unknown to me, 
my birthday got her thinking about it. I guess Wendy started to experiment 
on her own afterwards. But we never talked about it. She was too 
embarrassed to mention it and I was too scared to ask. Worked out great, 
though, didn't it?" 
   
   Another nod from me. "So, all the while I thought you were an innocent 
neophyte, but you were plotting to get me accustomed to the idea of you 
being a smoker? And you already were one?" 
   
   "Well, yes and no. I wasn't a smoker like I wanted to be. That didn't 
happen till after I got home from my first disastrous weekend with Daddy. 
But yeah, my mind was made up from the start. I intended to smoke." She 
cocked her head. "I hope you're not mad?" 
   
   "No, I'm not," I smiled. "Ellie, I could never be mad at you. But why 
admit it now?" 
   
   "Because it's my 14th birthday, Mom. I wanted you to know I'm grateful 
that you let me become what I always wanted. For years I wanted to smoke 
like you, Mom. I wanted to be a real smoker" She drew on her cigarette and 
grinned. She tipped her head to exhale. "And now I am. So, thanks, Mom. 
Thanks a million!" 
   
   I smiled at my lovely 14 year old daughter. Ellie. Smoking. Ellie the 
smoker. Ellie, a smoker like me. I laughed. No, honey, I silently mused. 
Thank you! Thanks for wanting to smoke, like I do, and thanks for so 
skillfully and carefully guiding me so it'd happen, so you could become one 
just like me. Yeah, I'm glad, too. Very glad. 
   
   Oh, by the way, I never told you how Jim ultimately accepted Ellie as a 
smoker and began to let his teenage daughter smoke all the time. But that's 
another story! 
   
   
   THE END 

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