Revenge, Part 2

This fictional account contains adult language and themes.  If such language
and themes offend you, please do not read further.  Copyright 2000 by
SSTORYMAN.  All rights reserved.  Permission is granted to reproduce this
story in any form and for any purpose as long as this notice is reproduced
and no financial remuneration is received, directly or indirectly, by the
person reproducing it  Thanks to AZ-MAN and STOGIE-MAN for their help and
encouragement.

REVENGE

2.	Throw Down the Gauntlet.

   Larilyn sat at Susan's dining room table.  It was Tuesday.  She'd taken a
long lunch hour so she'd have enough time for a good visit.  Cups of coffee
sat in front of them.  An ashtray and a half-empty pack of Kool 100's rested
by Susan's right hand.

   "Honey, I appreciate you seeing me.  I'm sorry for what happened last
time.  I was upset, and you were, too.  I said things I regret.  I'm sure you
did, too.  Kate and I talked about this mess yesterday.  I wanted her take on
it before talking to you again."

   Susan smiled serenely.  "I know.  Last night Andrea said you and Kate
talked.  By the way, I understand you know Andrea's started smoking.  I bet
you were royally pissed!" 

   "Uh, yeah," Larilyn acknowledged with a pained expression.  "Actually,
that's why I want to talk to you."  She shuffled nervously.  "Last week you
said I'm no longer welcome here.  I know you're mad.  We've had a long and
inconclusive battle over your smoking.  I came today to apologize.  I've been
sticking my nose in your business too damn long.  You're an adult.  You have
to make your own decisions, whether or not I agree with 'em.  I feel strongly
about you smoking around Ashley.  But it's your choice.  And Jim's."

   "You're right, Mom.  It _is_ my choice.  But Jim will back me, whatever I
decide."

   Larilyn took a breath.  "I'm here to apologize and bury the hatchet.
Let's put it behind us.  I promise to never again bring up the subject.  I
can't bear the thought of being left out while Kate and your dad enjoy
Ashley.  So I'm saying 'uncle.'  I'll never nag you again about smoking.  I
promise."  She paused.  "What do you say?"

   Silently Susan reached for a cigarette.  She put a cork-tipped Kool in her
mouth and readied her lighter.  She stared at Larilyn as it clicked.  "I
appreciate that," she said, lighting up.  "Unfortunately, it's not good
enough."

   "What?"

   "You heard me," she went on, taking a long drag and inhaling the smoke
through her nose.  "It's not good enough, Mom.  I can't accept your apology.
Not on those terms."

   Larilyn's mouth hung open in shock as Susan tipped her head and
confidently exhaled a long stream of mentholated smoke toward the ceiling.
"What are you talking about?"

   "I have some conditions," Susan said sternly.  She puffed again.  "You
don't get it, Mom.  You've never gotten it.  And you never will get it
either, unless . . .."

   "Unless what?"

   "Unless you start smoking."

   Larilyn's mouth fell open a second time.  She laughed nervously.  "You're
not serious!"

   Susan grinned while releasing another thick cloud of smoke into the room.
"I'm serious, Mom.  Believe me, I'm dead fuckin' serious."  She tapped ashes
in the ashtray.  "I want you to learn to smoke.  Actually, I want more.  Much
more.  I want you to know what it's like to be a smoker, Mommy Dearest.  I've
thought about this since you obnoxiously screamed at me for smoking around
Ashley last week.  I'm not talking about you just smoking a few cigarettes.
No way!  You're buying a whole carton of cigarettes and smoking every single,
solitary, fuckin' one of 'em."  She tipped her head.  "What do you think of
that?"

   "You're out of your mind.  I wouldn't think of doing that!"

   Susan smiled and manicured her cigarette in the ashtray.  "Too bad," she
pouted.  "Poor Ashley will grow up never seeing her maternal grandmother."
She shrugged her shoulders and sighed with an evil smile.  "What a shame!"

   Larilyn was incensed.  "Why, you little bitch.  I ought to . . .."

   "What, Mom?" Susan interrupted.  "What _will_ you do?"

   "I don't know," she admitted, full of rage.  "But Ashley needs a
grandmother.  She needs me on birthdays, at Christmas, and at Easter.  She
needs me to baby-sit if you and Jim are out or away.  What will you do about
that?"

   Susan smiled sweetly.  "Well, there's always Kate."  She put her cigarette
to her lips.  "Besides, Kate already smokes.  She doesn't care if I do, too."

   "Shit!  So that's it!  It's Kate, your smoking step-mother, against me,
your real mother and Ashley's real grandmother who doesn't smoke!  Is that
it?"

   Susan shrugged and smiled serenely.  "If you don't like the conditions,
Mom, don't play."

   "Extortion," snapped Larilyn.  "This is extortion, Susan.  You're using
little Ashley as a pawn, a hostage, to get at me and hurt me."

   Susan looked intently at her.  "No, Mom.  I'm not trying to hurt you.  I'm
trying to stop you from hurting me.  I'm tired of your self-righteous
bullshit about how bad tobacco is.  I hear it all the fuckin' time.  I'm done
listening to what your priggish friends at the lung association say about me.
No matter what you promise, I know you.  Sooner or later you'll be back on a
damn crusade to belittle me, humiliate me, and make me feel small because I
smoke.  Worse, you'll do it in front of my daughter.  Well, I won't stand for
it.  I've got the cards, Mom, and I'll play them.  If you want to see your
granddaughter, you'll do what I say.  Or else."

   Larilyn was speechless.  She'd never seen Susan so mad.  She looked at the
floor.  "Okay then," she said quietly.  "Tell me again your demands."

   Susan restlessly crushed her cigarette in the ashtray and pulled another
from her pack.  She lit up, took a long drag, and blew a thick stream
directly into Larilyn's face.  "I want you to smoke, Mom.  Like me, like
Kate, and now like Andrea.  You'll learn, and I mean really learn.  Buy a
carton of cigarettes and smoke 'em, all of 'em, all two hundred.  Only then
will I let you see Ashley.  But there's more.  Every time you come over,
there'll be an admission fee.  You'll smoke a cigarette with me before seeing
her.  And I mean really smoke, too, just like I do.  It means matching me
puff for puff with long drags, inhaling the smoke, over and over till we're
done.  Only then will you be allowed to hold your granddaughter."  She
dragged again on her Kool.  "That's the deal, Mom.  Take it or leave it."

   Larilyn swallowed hard.  "I see," she whispered.  "And what do you hope to
accomplish with this vicious form of extortion?"

   Susan exhaled once more into her mom's face.  "It's revenge.  I want you
to see what it feels like to smoke cigarettes.  It's wonderful, Mom.  But you
don't understand.  You think I'm dumb.  Well, I'll force you to admit I'm
not.  To hang around this house, to see Ashley, you have to smoke with me.
You have to be a smoker."

   "Does Jim know about this crazy plan?"

   "Yes," Susan said confidently.  "I explained it to him, and he's okay with
it.  He knows how upset I've been.  I've been pissed for five years.  But
this is my sweet revenge.  You'll come to like smoking, just as I do.
Finally you'll understand."

   "I won't," Larilyn boasted with an air of superiority.  "Even if I submit
to your ridiculous terms, there's not a chance in hell I'll like it.  I know
too much to be sucked in.  I might agree to your stupid visitation
requirement, but you'll never change me.  You can't make me a smoker."

   "I'll take that risk," Susan said.  "I think I can change you."

   She sighed.  "I'll give you an answer tomorrow.  I need time to think."
She looked around.  "Now, for the reason I came.  Where's the baby?"

   "Ashley's at Kate's," Susan sneered.  "You know?  Her other grandmother?"
An evil laugh followed.  "I told you, Mom.  You get to see her when you pass
my test.  Two hundred cigarettes, Mom, a whole carton.  As soon as you finish
'em, come back.  I'll watch you smoke one and decide if you pass.  I'll tell
by how well you smoke.  If you pass, then you see Ashley."

   Larilyn sputtered.  "You little witch…."  She stopped and regained her
composure.  "Okay, fine, Susan.  I'll play your game."  She smiled.  "But I
don't know anything about cigarettes.  What brand do I buy?  Is that part of
the test, too?"

   With a contemptuous smile she handed her a piece of paper.  "It's written
right here.  I've thought of everything.  I've even selected your brand,
Mom."

   "Marlboro Menthol Lights 100's," she read aloud.  "Why these?" 

   "Kate and I both smoke menthols," she explained patiently.  "You will,
too.  But they're lighter than the full-flavor cigarettes we smoke.  They
should be easier to start on.  You see, it's a smoother, lighter smoke, just
right for a beginning smoker like you, Mother."

   "God, you're so thoughtful," she said sarcastically.  "Okay, I'll think
about it, Susan, and give you a decision tomorrow."  She frowned.  "If I
decide to run this gauntlet, how in hell will I know how to smoke the shitty
things?  And how will you know I've done it?  What if I just lie and tell you
I smoked all 200 cigarettes?"

   "You won't lie, Mom," Susan answered condescendingly.  "You always tell
the truth.  Plus, Andrea's at home.  She'll tell me if you never smoke.  But
lying isn't in your character.  You always tell the truth and let the chips
fall where they may.  If you agree to smoke 200 cigarettes, you will.  But
you must do it well.  You can't bullshit me.  I know a novice when I see one.
If you smoke like a school-girl, you flunk.  You must smoke like a pro by the
time you finish the carton.  So work on sucking the smoke into your lungs,
Mom.  If you need help, ask Andrea.  She can help you."  She smiled.  "It
might be a good mother-daughter bonding experience."

   "Susan, you are an evil bitch.  Do you know that?"

   She laughed.  "I learned from the master:  You.  This is a taste of your
own medicine.  Or rather, it's a big dose of my favorite medicine."  She
rummaged in a pile of papers.  "Here," she added.  "I copied something for
you off the internet."  She handed over a sheaf of loose papers.

   "What the hell is this?"

   "It's 'How to Start Smoking: A Guide for Women' by D. R. Humo.  It's
lessons on how to start.  I copied it from a pro-smoking web site.  It tells
how to grow a smoking habit."  She gave a self-satisfied look.  "Follow his
advice.  You'll be smoking successfully in no time!"

   "My God," Larilyn gasped as she leafed through the pages.  "This is awful!
It ought to be illegal to publish this kind of pro-smoking shit on the
internet!"

   "Last time I checked, we had free speech in this country," Susan chided.
"But that doesn't interest you.  You don't like anyone propagating views on
smoking except your politically correct tripe.  But we smokers keep track of
pro-smoking stuff on the internet.  There aren't many other places to find
this stuff.  I regularly review the 'net for smoking glamour sites that
reinforce my little habit.  This one, by D. R. Humo, is good."

   "You've thought of everything, haven't you?"  Fury raged in her voice.

   "Mom, I've tried," she sardonically replied.  "I'll make you a smoker one
way or another..  It'll serve you fuckin' right!  You're going to have to
smoke."  She showed her the door with a last piece of mocking advice.  "Have
a nice day, Mom.  And have fun smoking!"

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

   Larilyn fumed driving back to the office, swearing and muttering
accusations under her breath.  She was being humiliated, forced to
participate in the vile activity she worked against at the lung association.
It wasn't fair!  But there was nothing to do and, unfortunately, she knew it.

   She never thought Susan would put conditions on accepting her apology.
The apology was insincere, but what did Susan expect?  If she did play
Susan's game, though, and she hadn't yet decided to, it'd only be to teach
her a lesson.  But one way or another, she'd spend time with Ashley.  She
wouldn't let Susan lock her out.  If she had to, she'd even learn to smoke!

   She got nothing done at the office all afternoon.  There were projects on
her desk but she couldn't concentrate.  She'd call Kate, she decided, and
vent her indignation.  Of course, Kate wouldn't be sympathetic.  After all,
she smoked, like Susan.  But at least she could unload on her.

   Andrea wasn't there when Larilyn got home.  She fixed something to eat and
sat by the phone.  She rarely ate much supper; it was how she maintained her
graceful, slender figure.  She fluffed her blond hair and shook her head.
She was pissed!  It was time to tell Kate.

   Kate was surprisingly blasé, almost philosophical, hearing of Susan's
ultimatum.  "Look, Larilyn," she interrupted.  "Susan has issues to deal with
involving you.  She's more pissed than you realized about how you've treated
her the last few years.  You have been a bitch, you know."

   "I know," Larilyn admitted.  "But it doesn't justify keeping me from my
granddaughter.  By making me enter your fuckin' world, the world of smoking,
she's really just keeping me away.  She thinks I can't do it.  That really
pisses me off."

   "You're upset.  But get a grip.  Susan has the power now.  In this state
grandparents have no legal visitation rights.  She can exclude you from her
house for any reason.  But it sounds like she just wants you to experience
something she's enjoyed for years, namely, the joy of smoking.  What's so bad
about that?  It won't kill you."

   "Not in the short run," Larilyn fumed.  "But smoking's deadly."

   "Oh, pooh," Kate chided.  "Don't be so damn politically correct!  Lots of
people, and lots of women, smoke.  We're still alive and well.  I repeat.  It
won't kill you to try it.  If I were you, I'd beat Susan at her own game.
Buy that carton of cigarettes.  Two hundred cigarettes sounds like a lot, but
if you apply yourself you'll be done in no time.  So what if you have to
smoke with Susan to see Ashley?  It's twisted, I admit.  But you can do it.
Then you can quit.  Beat her at her own game, kid.  Take the challenge and
show her what you're made of."

   "It's more than a little twisted," Larilyn seethed.  "It's damn near
inhumane.  But if I don't do it, I play right into her hands.  Yeah, I can do
it.  It just pisses me off.  That's all."

   "Don't let it get to you.  Go buy the carton of cigarettes.  Call Susan
and tell her you'll take her smoking challenge.  Then talk with Andrea.
She'll help you.  And you said Susan gave you something from the internet?"

   "Yeah, a 'how to start smoking' course."  She sighed.  "I know you're
right, Kate.  I'll read this stuff and call her.  I'll do it, as much as it
pisses me off.  I can smoke a carton of cigarettes, I guess.  I won't like
it, but I can do it."

   "That's the girl.  But be careful," she teased.  "You might like it,
Larilyn.  I'm not sure what Susan is counting on:  the fact that you won't
try it; or the fact that once you do, you'll love sucking smoke into your
lungs all the time."

   "I won't like it," Larilyn asserted confidently.  "I'll put up with it.
But that's all."

   Hanging up, she read the Humo article.  The more she read, the madder she
got.  It talked about smoking being sexy, and men being attracted to women
who smoke!  She threw down the papers in disgust.  What kind of perverts
inhabit this planet? she wondered.  She'd call Susan and give her a piece of
her mind.

   The call didn't go well.  Susan laughed hearing how Larilyn was
scandalized by the start-smoking materials and the glamorous attitude they
represented.

   "Mom, you may not like it, but lots of us think smoking is sexy.  Maybe
that's why you can't find a man to replace Dad.  Maybe you _should_ learn to
smoke."

   "Shut up," she shouted into the receiver.  "You're trying to make me mad,
and you are.  I hope this makes you happy.  But it's bullshit.  I won't do
it.  I don't care what Kate says!"

   "Oh, you talked to Kate?" Susan asked in a syrupy voice.  "Well, aren't
the two of you confidants?"  She laughed.  "Look, Mom, don't do it.  That's
fine.  You'll be out of my life.  But in less than three weeks, on the 16th,
we'll celebrate Ashley's three month birthday with a party.  Too bad you
won't be there.  Because if you don't do what I say and smoke, you're not
invited."

   "You little bitch," Larilyn screamed.  "Why are you doing this to me?"

   "I told you, Mom," Susan answered patiently.  "It's revenge.  I don't care
if you stay out of my life.  But I won't let you make me miserable by
constantly bitching about my smoking.  If you want to see Ashley, give my
habit a fair trial."

   "But this is insane," Larilyn objected.  "Even if I smoke the 200
cigarettes, I can still bitch at you, and I probably will."

   "I doubt it.  But I'll risk that.  In any case, Ashley's party is the
16th.  You've got less than three weeks to finish your course.  Good luck."

   "Wait a minute.  God, I'd have to average ten cigarettes a day, every day,
till then.  That's fuckin' impossible, Susan."

   "No, it's not."  She sounded amused.  "I smoke at least twenty a day.  You
do have to get with the program in a hurry.  But so what?  You can do it if
you really want to.  You needn't agree with the premise of the article from
the 'net.  You don't have to think smoking is sexy.  But you must learn to do
it properly to come to Ashley's party on the 16th."

   Larilyn burned with rage.  She noticed Andrea in the doorway.  She'd been
listening.  She turned her attention back to the phone.  "Okay, Susan.
You're on.  I'll do it.  You and your perverted friends are sick.  Your whole
goddamn plan is sick!  But I'll show you.  I'll figure out how to do this.
But I warn you.  I won't forget."

   "C'mon, Mom, play nice," Susan laughed.  "You don't have to do it.  But if
you don't, you don't see Ashley.  The clock's ticking.  The 16th is in less
than three weeks.  Better get started."

   She hung up.  "The stupid bitch," she muttered.  "Come here, Andrea.  We
need to talk."

   Andrea was all smiles.  "I guess so," she said happily, sitting at the
table.  "God, I can't believe it!  You smoking?  That's too funny!"

   "Be careful, young lady.  I'm pissed right now.  But I need your help, big
time.  How much of the conversation did you hear?"

   "Most of it.  You have to smoke 200 cigarettes before you're allowed to
see Ashley?"

   "Basically," Larilyn confirmed.  "God, I hate Susan.  I hate smoking and I
hate smokers!  But before Ashley's party on the 16th I have to smoke an
entire carton of cigarettes, and pass an audition with Susan to convince her
I'm a so-called real smoker."  She shook her head.  "I can't believe I agreed
to it.  It proves I love Ashley.  But now you have to help me.  Are you
willing?"

   Andrea grinned.  "Mom, I'm more than willing.  This'll be fun.  I can't
believe I'll be teaching _you_ how to smoke.  What a riot!"

   "I have to average ten cigarettes a day for the next three weeks.  That
seems incredible.  I'd better start tonight.  I have to buy a carton of . . .
what did she call them? . . . Marlboro Menthol Lights 100's?"

   Andrea grinned.  "Mom, ten a day is a lot."

   "I know," Larilyn muttered.  "Your sister's trying to screw me.  But no
matter.  It has to be done.  Will you come with me to buy the carton?"

   "Sure, Mom," she replied happily.  Now _this_ was going to be fun.

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

   They returned from the store that Tuesday night with a carton of Marlboro
Menthol Lights 100's for Larilyn, a carton of Salem Lights 100's for Andrea,
several disposable lighters, and four large ashtrays.  Larilyn agreed to buy
a carton for Andrea as payment for her help.  They also needed ashtrays.  She
didn't have a one at home.  They put one in the family room, one in the
office by the computer, one in Andrea's room (at her request), and the last
one in the kitchen.

   Andrea chose Salem Lights 100's because Susan always said a woman should
never smoke anything shorter than a one hundred millimeter cigarette.  One of
her girlfriends at school smoked Salem Lights.  Andrea suggested they both
buy boxes rather than soft packs.  That way they were less likely to get
crushed in a purse.  The thought of carrying a pack of cigarettes in her
purse seemed incredibly depressing to Larilyn.

   Arriving home, she was upset.  Her tension increased as they sat down in
the family room.  Andrea opened both cartons, giving her mom a pack of
Marlboro Menthol Lights 100's and taking a pack of Salem Lights 100's for
herself.  With a newly-purchased glass ashtray on the table by a bevy of
disposable lights, she smiled warmly at her mother.

   "Here we go," she eagerly exclaimed, tearing open her box of Salems.
"Open yours, and let's begin your great experiment."

   "Don't call it an experiment.  It's more like a death sentence.  That's
how I feel."

   "Lighten up, Mom," Andrea kidded.  She then laughed at her own joke.
"It's not so bad.  Look at it this way.  It expands your horizons."  She took
a long, white Salem from her pack.  She felt nervous doing it in front of her
mom, but maintained a casual attitude.  "Let's light up.  You've got many
cigarettes to smoke in the next nineteen days."

   Larilyn cringed being reminded of the short time till Ashley's party.  But
she tore the cellophane from her box of Marlboro Menthol Lights 100's and
opened it, pulling off the silver paper.  Twenty white round cylinders
arrayed in three rows greeted her.  With long fingertips she anxiously pulled
one out.  She looked at Andrea who already had hers in her mouth.

   "C'mon, Mom," she said with a sly smile.  "Let's go."  With that, the
youngster clicked her Bic and lit up.

   It was gut-wrenching for Larilyn to see her daughter's cheeks hollow while
dragging on a cigarette.  She always hoped Andrea wouldn't follow in Susan's
footsteps.  But there she was, pulling smoke into her youthful lungs.  Even
more depressing was the realization that she must join her.  As Andrea
released a cloud of smoke into the air, Larilyn shook her head and put the
Marlboro Menthol between her lips.

   It was Andrea's turn to watch her mother click the disposable lighter.
Larilyn's movements were neither hesitant nor tentative.  She took a
moderate-sized puff and breathed in slightly.  Andrea watched incredulously
as her mom exhaled a thin stream of smoke.

   "Damn," she gasped.  "You look like you've done this!  I thought you never
smoked."

   "That was your assumption," Larilyn countered.  "I never said that."  She
nervously tapped her cigarette in the ashtray, though there was yet no need
to do so.

   "You mean you've smoked before?"

   "Yeah, sure," Larilyn admitted.  "When I was in high school, about your
age."

   "Shit.  I don't believe it.  Why didn't you ever tell us that?"

   Larilyn shrugged.  "I guess it never came up.  Like too many kids in the
70's, I experimented with smoking growing up.  I didn't smoke all the time,
but I knew how."

   "I can see that," Andrea added, impressed.  "Tell me about it."

   Larilyn tapped her cigarette in the ashtray again.  This time a few ashes
fell from the tip.  "My best friend Angela started smoking our senior year.
She teased me about it, so for awhile I joined her.  All year I smoked on
social occasions, at parties, that sort of thing.  It was no big deal."  She
looked woefully embarrassed.

   "Wow," Andrea exclaimed.  "I never knew.  You look pretty comfortable
holding that thing.  God, you know how to inhale and everything."

   "Yeah, I do," Larilyn admitted.  "I got pretty good at it, actually.  But
shortly after Angela and I graduated, I got scared after a particularly wild
party.  I had seven or eight cigarettes that night.  The next morning all I
could think about was smoking again.  It frightened me.  I was afraid I was
getting hooked.  I didn't want that."  She smiled.  "I never smoked again."

   "Wow, Mom, that's weird, thinking about you smoking in high school."  She
noticed she hadn't taken another drag.  "Show me again, Mom," she urged.
"Let me see how you did it."

   Self-consciously Larilyn returned the cigarette to her lips.  She took a
second, moderate-sized drag and again pulled the smoke into her lungs.
Tipping her head, she slowly released a plume of exhaled smoke.  "Wow," she
gasped.  "It really buzzes you, doesn't it?"

   "It sure does," Andrea excitedly agreed.  "So how often did you smoke in
those days?"

   "Once or twice a week all through my senior year in high school.
Sometimes I only had one or two cigarettes.  Other times I smoked more;
sometimes much more.  When everyone around you is smoking, it's natural to
join in.  You know?"

   "I sure do," Andrea agreed.  "That's how I tried it."  She took a drag and
sucked smoke in.  "How many total cigarettes do you think you smoked with
your friends in high school?"

   A dreamy far away look shone in Larilyn's eyes.  "God, I don't know.  I
hardly remember.  Maybe a couple hundred.  It was over many, many weekends.
It must've been a lot, though, because that last night when I quit for good I
had seven or eight in a single evening."

   Andrea giggled.  Larilyn frowned.  "What are you laughing about?"

   "Nothing," Andrea chuckled.  "It's just funny thinking about you sneaking
around smoking in high school, like Susan did, and like I do now."  She
paused for a hit on her Salem.  "Is that why you're scared to smoke again?"

   "I never said I was scared," she replied defensively.  "I'm older and
wiser now.  I'll be fine."  She tapped more ashes into the ashtray.  "Maybe
Susan will give up her insane plan to make me smoke each time I visit Ashley.
At least, I'm hoping.  But I was able to stop when I was eighteen.  I'll have
no trouble stopping this time, either.  I promise."

   "Time for another puff, Mom," Andrea interrupted.  "You want me to give
Susan a good report, don't you?"

   Larilyn glared.  "Look, Andrea, I won't give you any shit about smoking.
But in return I expect you to tell Susan I'm doing my part.  I don't want you
counting puffs or the number of my butts in the ashtray.  I said I'd smoke
ten packs of cigarettes and I will.  But don't squeal on me if sometimes I
take it easy."

   "I'll cut you some slack, Mom.  But remember Susan insists you be able to
show her the same mature smoking style she has.  I don't want to be mean, but
you're not there yet."

   "What do you mean?"

   "Have you ever noticed how Susan smokes?  She takes long, hard drags, so
hard her cheeks cave in.  Plus, she inhales the smoke real deep in her lungs,
so deep, in fact, it's not unusual for her exhales to last three or four
breaths.  I hate to say it, but you've got a ways to go to duplicate her
style, Mom.  You'd be up shit-creek if you tried to pass the test right now."

   Larilyn sighed.  "You're right.  Damn!"  She returned the cigarette to her
lips and took a longer drag, lasting three or four seconds.  As she removed
it, a ball of white smoke hung in the air for a millisecond.  She breathed
in, sucking it deep in her chest.  Her breasts rose, and she held the smoke
inside several seconds.  Then pursing her lips she released a fulsome stream
of smoke from her mouth.  "How was that?" she asked, as wisps of smoke still
escaped from her nose and lips.

   "Better," Andrea nodded approvingly.  "Keep smoking like that.  From what
Susan said, unless you do it that way second nature, she'll flunk you."  She
paused.  "Are you all right?"

   "Yeah, I think so," Larilyn admitted with an embarrassed grin.  "But all
of a sudden I'm light headed, dizzy.  God, I think I'm making myself sick.
It's this fuckin' nicotine!"

   "Relax, Mom, it happens."  Andrea was speaking from experience.  "Don't
quit, but ease up on your next puff.  Just keep at it.  Rome wasn't built in
a day, you know."

   Larilyn put her half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray.  "I need some wine,"
she muttered, standing up.  "Do you want a glass, Andrea?"

   The youngster grinned.  "You don't have to ask twice, Mom."  They had wine
together on some special occasions.  It was a special treat to be asked.
"I'd love a glass."

   Larilyn returned from the kitchen with two glasses of red wine.  She
handed one to Andrea while taking a long sip from her own.  "Oh, God," she
sighed.  "That tastes really good."  She smiled.  "There's nothing like a
little alcohol to loosen you up."

   "Yep," Andrea agreed, taking a sip.  Drinking and smoking with her mom was
incredibly cool.  She smiled.  "Let's talk about your plan.  How are you
going to get done by the 16th?"

   Larilyn frowned.  "I don't know," she admitted.  "I haven't thought about
it."  She picked up her cigarette from the ashtray after knocking off some
ashes.

   "Here's how I see it," Andrea began.  "You have nineteen days, including
today, till the sixteenth.  Between now and then you have to smoke 200
cigarettes.  Let's assume you smoke four more tonight."  She ignored the look
of disgust on her mom's face.  "That leaves 195 in the next eighteen days."
She ran numbers in her head.  "You need to average 10.83 cigarettes a day,"
she went on, exhaling as she talked.  "Realistically, you should plan on
eleven a day.  But you can't start out smoking that many.  So let's say you
have seven tomorrow, ten the next day, and eleven every day after that.  So
back out the 22 cigarettes you smoke in the first three days.  That leaves
178 to smoke in the last sixteen."  She paused again.  "You should smoke five
tonight, seven tomorrow, ten the next day, and eleven every day after that.
You'll only have to smoke two extra cigarettes, one on the eighteenth day and
the other on the nineteenth."  She smiled triumphantly.  "Then you get
together with Susan on the 16th to audition before the party!"

   Larilyn rolled her eyes.  "You always were good with math!"

   Andrea nodded jubilantly.  "The next question is, when will you do all
that smoking?"

   Larilyn sat silent.  "I don't know that either."

   Andrea went on enthusiastically.  "Let's figure it out."  She looked.
"Time for a puff," she chided, glancing at the shrinking cigarette.  Both
girls had a drag and Andrea went on.  "Let's agree on a schedule.  You can
smoke two each morning before work.  That's easy," she began.

   "'Easy' isn't the word I'd choose," Larilyn sadly interjected, releasing
smoke from her lips as she spoke.  She crushed her cigarette in the ashtray.

   "Don't interrupt.  We'll have one before dinner together and another after
dinner every night.  That's four so far.  That leaves seven more during the
evening."  She furrowed her brow.  "That's a lot of cigarettes, Mom.  You
should think about taking them to work and smoking one or two over lunch."

   "Absolutely not," Larilyn objected.  She watched Andrea finish a final
drag on her cigarette and crush it in the ashtray.  "I'm not smoking outside
this house."

   "But think, Mom.  To average eleven a day, you gotta spend the time.  You
often don't get home till seven.  You're in bed by eleven.  That's four hours
to smoke nine cigarettes.  If I were you, I'd find someplace at work to have
a couple.  It'll make it easier on you at night."

   Larilyn shook her head.  "I can't do this!  God!  The only place people
can smoke at work is outside.  I can't go out there!  I'm on the lung
association board.  I'd be a laughingstock if I went out there with the
smokers."

   Andrea interrupted.  "Then go out for lunch and smoke.  There must be
restaurants downtown that have smoking sections."

   "Yeah, but they all have people from my office going there," she moaned.
"I'll have to smoke like a chimney at night."  Tears began to form in the
corners of her eyes.

   "Mom, don't cry.  Think.  You need a plan.  Eleven cigarettes a day, and
actually twelve a day the last few days, is a lot.  But it'll be easier if
you spread 'em out."

   "You're right, you're right," Larilyn admitted.  "God, I hate your sister!
But you hit the nail on the head.  I need a plan.  I'll have to think about
it.  At least this is a start, though."

   "I have to do some homework now," Andrea said.  "Let's have another
cigarette in half an hour.  Remember, to keep on schedule you need to smoke
four more tonight."

   Larilyn sighed.  "I hate your sister," she repeated.  "The little bitch
will pay.  One way or another, she'll fuckin' pay!  I'll have my revenge
before this is over."

   "Susan learned her bitchiness from you, Mom.  So did I.  We may be
bitches, but we know how to get even.  You'll think of something for a
payback.  Just don't come after me."

   Larilyn impulsively kissed Andrea on the forehead.  "I won't, honey.
You're a good sport.  We haven't agreed on much the last few years.  I'm
pleased you're willing to help me."

   "Mom, it's my pleasure."  She took her pack of Salem Lights 100's.  "My
payment is getting to smoke in peace.  It's far more than I ever dreamed of.
Thanks."

   "You're welcome, sweetie," Larilyn sighed.  She stared at her box of
Marlboro Menthol Lights 100's.  Andrea was right.  She'd have to smoke
relentlessly to finish before Ashley's party.  But one thing was sure.  Susan
would learn the ultimate payback is pure hell!

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