Trisha, Part 4

Trisha
by smokingbeauties@yahoo.com
Part 4

The next morning, Trisha decided that it was time to tell Ron that she'd
started smoking, and had no intention of quitting.  She was petrified about
his reaction, but knew that hiding it wasn't something she wanted to do
either.

"Ron," Trisha said nervously as she sat down at the kitchen table.  "Will you
come here?  I've got something to talk to you about."

She tried her best not to sound overly ominous as her husband walked away from
the stove where he was cooking his breakfast and sat next to her at the table.

"What's the matter, Trish?" Ron inquired.

"You know I've been under a lot of stress lately with this work shit," she
nervously began.

Ron curiously agreed.

"I wasn't sure what it was, but I knew that something had to be done to
relieve some of my stress," Trisha continued.

"What are you trying to say?" Ron asked.

"Ron, I don't want to hide this from you anymore," she said.  "I started
smoking."

Ron laughed in disbelief.

"No you did not," he said mockingly.

"Ron," Trisha replied.  "Yes, I did."

"Well I'll be damned," Ron said.  "You've become a 'bad girl'." 

"Don't tease me about it, please," Trisha pleaded.

"No, I'm not teasing you about it at all," Ron defended.  "I think that if
you're that stressed out, and if you need something to unwind, that's fine
with me.  I love you for you, not for the fact that you don't--didn't--smoke."

"Really?"  Trisha asked with a tear in her eye.

"Really," Ron said smiling and placing his hand on Trisha's.  "Let me see."

"What?"  Trisha asked.

"Well, if you're going to be smoking, I might as well get used to seeing it,
right?" asked Ron.

"I guess, but--" Trisha began.

"No buts," interrupted Ron.  "If it was one of the girls that had started
smoking, you know we'd both make them sit here and smoke, so let me see."

The girls.  Trisha had never thought of what implications her decision to
start smoking might have on them.  Hopefully, it was too late for them to be
curious about smoking.  Emily was at college anyway, so Trisha didn't have to
worry too much about her.  But Rachel was only sixteen.  If she found out her
mother was smoking, she might be tempted to try it herself.

"Oh my God," Trisha said aloud.  "I never even thought about the girls.  This
was so selfish.  I'm going to quit."

"What?" asked Ron, who was now totally confused.

"What about the girls?  If they find out I smoke now, they're going to wonder
why, and they might even think that it's okay, and they might try it, and
they?" Trisha said, not really thinking her words completely through.

"Trish," Ron said with a chuckle.  "The girls will be fine.  Emily is at
college, and Rachel is old enough by now to know that smoking is bad for her."

"And I'm not?" Trisha asked with a laugh.

"If Rachel's going to smoke, then she's going to smoke," Ron said.  "To be
honest with you, she's probably already tried it if she's going to try it, ya
know?"

"I don't know," Trisha said.

"They'll be fine," Ron replied.  "Do this for you."

Reaching into her purse, Trisha pulled out the remaining half pack of Newport
100s that Jaimee had given her the night before.

Ron stood up and got her an ashtray from the kitchen cabinet that was usually
reserved for guests.

Trisha was terrified, and her heart was beating harder than she ever
remembered it beating before, as she put the orange filter of her cigarette in
her mouth.  She was about to smoke a cigarette in the house-in front of her
husband-for the very first time.

"Let me light it," Ron requested.  "It's the least I can do."

Handing her lighter to Ron, she leaned in and accepted the flame that he was
offering.

"Well I'll be damned," Ron said as he set the lighter down on the table.  "I
have to admit-you look very sexy smoking!"

"Thanks," Trisha replied.  "Even though I know you're full of shit."

"Seriously," Ron objected.  "You look awesome."

Trisha blushed as she took her best and longest drag yet, and performed a
beautiful snap inhale that Jaimee had taught her how to do, in the hopes that
Ron would approve. 

With half of her cigarette smoked, and both she and her husband lost in what
seemed like a fantasy, the door to the kitchen swung open.

"Oh my God!" Rachel said.  "Mom!  What are you doing?"

Trisha almost dropped her cigarette on the floor.  

"She's smoking a cigarette, Rach," Ron said knowingly.

"Why?  I mean, you don't," started Rachel, looking for the words.  "Since when
do you smoke?"

"I am not going to lie to you, Rachel," Trisha started.  "I started smoking a
few weeks ago, and I've decided that I want to smoke."

"I don't know what to say," said Rachel as she left the room rolling her eyes.

Trisha looked at Ron, unsure what to do.

"She'll come around," Ron said.

"God, I hope so," answered Trisha, who was now just about done with her
cigarette.

"I'll talk to her," Ron said with a smile as he exited the kitchen.  "Until
she's okay with this, maybe you should only smoke in our room."

"Okay," said Trisha, who couldn't believe how understanding her husband was
being about her decision.

She picked up her cigarettes, lighter and ashtray, and headed for her bedroom.
If she was going to smoke in there, she might as well have the essentials.

As Trisha turned to walk out of the bedroom, her heart began to race.  She
wasn't sure what to do about Rachel, but she hoped that somehow everything
would work out.

Suddenly, a cigarette sounded wonderful.

She walked back to the dresser, which was on the opposite side of the room as
her bed, she opened the pack of Newport 100s and looked inside.

She was completely astonished when she saw something inside that she'd never
seen there before.

Hidden in the pack, camouflaged by the other cigarettes in the pack, were two
tightly wrapped joints.  Apparently Jaimee had thought she might want to get
high again.  The truth was, she didn't know if she did or not.

Ignoring the joints for the time being, Trisha slid another cigarette out of
her pack and flicked her lighter.  

Thick mentholated smoke began to pour into Trisha's mouth.  She opened her
mouth and snapped a milky ball of smoke into her lungs.  This had become her
favorite style of inhale.

"Why didn't I start smoking sooner?" Trisha asked aloud as she held the smoke
in her lungs.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come on in, Ron," Trisha answered.

The door opened slowly.

"Mom, it's me," she heard Rachel say.  "Dad said I should come talk to you."

"Oh did he?" Trisha asked with a laugh.  "About what?"

"You smoking," Rachel replied meekly.  "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Trisha answered.  "Come on in.  Close the door."

Rachel did as she was told, and stood in front of the closed door, not sure
what to say.

"So you want to know why I started smoking, right?" Trisha nervously asked,
taking another puff.

"Yeah," Rachel said.  "I mean, it's so bad for you."

"You're right," Trisha said.  "It is bad for me.  But sometimes I just need
something to get rid of some of the stress that I'm going through right now.
So a friend of mine offered me a cigarette, and it felt wonderful, so I smoked
another one the next time I was stressed.  And the next thing I know, I'm
hooked, and I absolutely love it."

Rachel appreciated her mother's open thoughts about smoking, but still didn't
understand.

"But mom," she said.  "It smells so bad."

"It doesn't smell ba?" Trisha stopped herself.  She didn't want to encourage
her daughter to experiment with smoking.

"What is it?" Rachel asked.

"I was going to say that it doesn't smell bad when you're the one smoking it,"
Trisha replied, stubbing her cigarette out in the ashtray and blowing a stream
of smoke away from Rachel.

"Oh," Rachel replied before a very awkward pause.  "Mom?"

"Yeah?" Trisha answered, relatively sure that she knew where the conversation
was headed.

"Um," Rachel asked, extremely nervous.  "What's it like?"

"Smoking?" Trisha asked, hoping she was wrong.

"Yeah," Rachel answered, unsure of what her mother's reaction would be.

"Does this mean you've never tried it?" Trisha asked her daughter.

"Mom!" Rachel replied.  "No!  Never!"

Trisha was relieved that her daughter had never experimented with smoking.
But why was she asking these questions?

"Is it something you're curious about?" Trisha asked.

"I don't know," Rachel replied, slightly blushing.  "A couple of my friends
have tried it, and they asked me to try it, but I said no."

Trisha was very happy.  It was very clear that the lessons she'd taught her
children had stayed with them when called for.

"Well I'm glad to hear that you didn't want to try it," she said with a smile.

"It's not?" Rachel began, not realizing what she'd started to say.

"What?" asked Trisha, who was once more beginning to feel uncomfortable with
the conversation.

"Nevermind," Rachel said as she turned for the door.

"No, what is it?" Trisha asked.

"It's not that I didn't want to," Rachel explained.

"Then what was it?" asked Trisha.

"Well," Rachel started.  "This sounds dumb, but I didn't want you to be mad at
me."

"So if I wasn't mad at you, then you would have tried it?" asked Trisha.

"Honestly?" Rachel asked innocently.

"Of course," replied Trisha.

"I would have tried it, yes," Rachel said, hoping to not anger her mother.
"Everyone else was trying it, and I wanted to fit in with them, ya know?"

Trisha needed a cigarette.

"Rach?" she asked.  "Will you take one out of my pack and hand it to me?  I
think I'd like to smoke one."

Rachel wasn't sure what her mother was up to, but decided that it was best to
do as told.  She walked over to the dresser, and opened the box.  Without
looking inside, she reached in and pulled a cigarette out.

"And my lighter and ashtray too," Trisha added.  "I'll need those."

Rachel picked up the lighter and ashtray, and brought them to her mother.

"Sit next to me," Trisha said as she took the items from her daughter.

Rachel did as she was told.  But what was going on?

Trisha brought the tip of the cigarette to her lips, and flicked the roller on
the lighter.  An orange flame appeared to hover above the metal collar.
Noticing that Rachel was watching every move, she brought the flame to the end
of her cigarette and applied gentle suction.  The thick, minty smoke flooded
her mouth.  Trisha removed the cigarette and opened her mouth.  Rachel's eyes
lit up at the sight of a thick ball of creamy smoke swirling around inside her
mother's mouth.  Then, just as quickly as the smoke had appeared, the smoky
mass disappeared down her mother's throat.

Trisha held the smoke inside her, then turned her head to exhale.

"Mom?" Rachel asked.

"Yes?" Trisha replied, taking another drag.

"This is going to sound dumb," Rachel responded nervously using her favorite
disclaimer once more.  "But will you blow it at me?"

"What?" Trisha asked, trying not to laugh.

"I sorta want to try it, but I don't want to smoke it," Rachel explained.
"Will you just blow it at me?"

It was becoming obvious to Trisha that before the women left this room, Rachel
was going to smoke her first cigarette.

Trisha took another puff, and inhaled the smoke deeply.  She began to slowly
exhale the smoke in her daughter's face.

Rachel leaned slowly forward and tried to inhale a little of her mother's
smoke.

She turned her head and began to exhale as she'd seen her mother do.  When
slight traces of smoke began to escape her lips, she began to giggle.

"I did it!" she exclaimed.

"Not really," Trisha said coyly.

Trisha felt an odd sense of accomplishment watching her daughter exhale smoke.

"Do you want to really do it?" she asked, extending the cigarette towards her
sixteen-year-old daughter.

"You won't be mad?" Rachel asked, staring at the cigarette.

"I promise," Trisha replied.

"Okay," accepted Rachel, taking the cigarette for her mother.  This was the
first time she'd ever touched a cigarette, and now she was about to smoke
it?in front of her mother.

"What do I do?" she asked.  The question made Trisha laugh.  It wasn't all
that long ago that she herself was a beginner.

"Just put it in your mouth, and suck air through it," she explained.  "Just
like drinking out of a straw."

She couldn't believe that she was teaching her youngest daughter how to smoke,
but in a very peculiar sort of way, she was enjoying the experience.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Rachel asked nervously.

"It's fine," Trisha said with a smile.  "As long as Dad doesn't find out."

"Okay," Rachel said, awkwardly holding the cigarette.  "Here I go."

Trisha watched intently as Rachel brought the cigarette to her lips for her
first puff.

To the amazement of both, the tip of the cigarette slowly burned away as it
glowed brighter. 

Rachel was smoking.

"Now take it out of your mouth and blow the smoke out," Trisha said expertly.

Rachel, being the quick learner that she was, followed the instructions like
she'd been smoking for years.

"Wow, I did it!" she said to Trisha.

"Yes, you did," Trisha said.  "What did you think?"

"Honestly?" Rachel began.  "It was pretty cool.  Can I try it again?"

"If you want to," Trisha said.  She was beginning to wonder if she was doing
the right thing.

Rachel again brought the smoldering cigarette to her young mouth, and wrapped
her lips around the orange, cork-tipped filter.

After taking her second puff, she removed the cigarette and blew the smoke
immediately out.  Trisha noticed that the ash was beginning to build up on the
end of the cigarette, and needed to tap it off.

"Give it to me a second," she said as she took the cigarette from her
daughter.

After trimming the ash, Trisha brought the cigarette to her mouth and took a
puff for herself.  Opening her mouth and inhaling the smoke, she passed it
back to Rachel, who took it eagerly.

"How do you do that?" Rachel asked, watching her mother inhale.

"What?  Inhale?" Trisha asked, speaking through her exhale.

"Yeah," said Rachel.  "Why do you do it?"

"That's how you get the nicotine into your body," Trisha tried to explain.
"It feels better that way."

"Can I try it that way too?" Rachel asked.

It was obvious to Trisha that Rachel was enjoying smoking more than either of
them had anticipated.  She figured that she might as well let Rachel
experiment any way she wished.

"Okay, but only a few times," Trisha said.

Rachel smiled as she brought the cigarette to her mouth again, and took a
smaller puff.

"Now open your mouth and breathe in slowly," Trisha instructed.

Rachel did as instructed, and much to Trisha's amazement, didn't cough once.
She decided that Rachel must not have taken a large enough drag to cough.

"Now blow it out," Trisha coached, and Rachel did as told.

"That's really cool!" Rachel giggled.  "It made me dizzy!"

"Yeah," Trisha laughed.  "It does that."

"I love it!" Rachel said.

"You what?" asked Trisha, who was very surprised at her daughter's revelation.

"I love it!" she said again.  "Can I smoke again another time?"

"I don't know Rachel," Trisha said.  "You're a little young to be smoking,
especially with my consent."

"But mom," Rachel objected.  "If I want to smoke, I can just get cigarettes
from my friends.  And now that I know how fun it is?"

"But Rachel, you're only sixteen years old, I can't let you smoke," Trisha
objected.

"But Mom?" Rachel tried to protest.

"I'll make a deal with you," Trisha said, not believing the words which were
pouring from her mouth.

"What?" asked Rachel.

"You can smoke, but you can only smoke here, and under no circumstances is
your father to find out," Trisha explained.

"Deal," Rachel said eagerly.  "So I can try another one now?" 

"If you'd like," said Trisha, trimming the ash on her cigarette and taking
another puff.  "I'll leave my cigarettes in the drawer of my nightstand, and
if you want one, you can come in here and smoke it.  But don't break any of
the rules I've put down, or the whole thing is off.  And if anyone finds out,
I'll deny it completely."

"I won't break any of your rules, Mom," Rachel said with a smile.  "I
promise."

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