Miss Vicki, Part 2

Part 2


Vicki seemed to enjoy her first real experience with smoking, and starting
the next day she began to look to me to provide her with a puff or two now
and then. I was strangely pleased to see her beginning to enjoy it, although
I was determined to keep it under tight control since I didn't want her to
be a regular smoker, but didn't mind allowing her the rare treat. For
several months I would only offer her one when she didn't ask for it,
ignoring her when she would attempt to signal me by obviously breathing in
my exhaled smoke. Nor would I ever let her hold the cigarette herself, not
even when she somehow summoned the courage to ask me on the evening of her
13th birthday in October; instead, at unpredictable intervals a few times a
day I would quietly place my Salem to her lips while I continued to hold it
and allow her to puff on it. She told me
once that she liked having these puffs, since she enjoyed the cool taste of
the Salem's smoke in her mouth and liked the thrill they gave her as she
inhaled.

We continued in this fashion until one day just before Christmas, when I
noticed her place two fingers to her lips just after I had lit up, in an
imitation of having a puff, and for some reason I still don't understand I
decided to respond by offering my cigarette to her. A surprised look
appeared on her face, but she quickly took the long white cigarette between
her fingers and inserted it between her lips, a wide-eyed look of amazement
on her face as she took a deep puff on her own for the first time.
Eventually exhaling smoke as she offered the cigarette back to me, I decided
to let her explore a little further. "No, that's OK, honey", I said,
smiling, "have another one first". Vicki smiled, saying "Oh... OK", and,
after waiting a few seconds, took another puff and
immediately handed the cigarette back to me. "That felt nice, mom," she
said, blowing out smoke, "Thanks!".

From that day on I would let Vicki signal me whenever she felt like having a
puff, by placing two fingers to her lips. Sometimes I would permit her only
a single puff, but other times I would let her have two or even three before
asking for the cigarette to be returned. During this time I had considered
on several occasions the possibility of discontinuing the practice, but she
seemed to enjoy her infrequent puffs so much, and they seemed so relatively
few in number, that I decided each time to let her continue. She was good
about it for the most part, not bothering to ask whenever others were around
or if she was likely to be seen, and never really being a nuisance to me
about it, but as time passed it became obvious that she was asking to smoke
more and more frequently, and that her puffs were no longer the small,
shallow ones of a novice but had developed into long, deep inhales virtually
identical to my own. After a few more months she eventually dropped her
signalling system, and would instead simply reach towards my hand holding my
cigarette and move to take it from me when she wanted a puff, which I
usually allowed her to do. Although she was still generally exercising some
restraint, she was probably smoking the equivalent of several cigarettes a
day, but she had never actually smoked an entire cigarette at one time, as
far as I knew, and since her puffs were spaced out through the day, she was
able (I realized later) to keep a constant, maintaining level of nicotine in
her system.

After nearly a year of this behavior, we went away on Memorial Day weekend
to visit her grandparents cottage in the country. The first day I was able
to surreptitiously allow Vicki a few puffs throughout the day and several in
our shared bedroom at bedtime, but the next day I was out early and Vicki
then was taken to the beach with several of her cousins mid-morning before I
returned. When we all returned at suppertime Vicki hadn't had a puff in many
hours and she now desperately wanted one. I had returned to the kitchen by
myself to refill a pitcher of lemonade while everyone else remained outside.
I soon heard the screen door slam as Vicki entered the kitchen and asked me
quietly but urgently, "Mom... do you think you could let me have a puff
sometime soon? I really, really want one". It took me a moment to understand
that my daughter had not smoked all day and, for the first time, was feeling
a craving for nicotine. I
finally recognized that she had indeed become a smoker, even though she probably
didn't think of herself that way yet, and so after I recovered from my
initial surprise I quickly decided to do a fellow smoker a favor. "OK,
honey. Just wait here, and I'll be right back", I told her, as I left to
take the lemonade outside.

Once I made my delivery, I casually picked up my Salems and lighter and
returned to the cottage, entering the bathroom and calling for Vicki to join
me. After she arrived I pushed the door shut, turned on the exhaust fan,
pulled a fresh cigarette from my pack and gave it to her. "Here, honey, take
this", I told her, and flicked my lighter to life as she moved the cigarette
towards her lips with a surprised look on her face. "I don't know if I'll
have a chance to let you have any more today, so make the most of this one.
Just flush it down the toilet when you're done. Enjoy", I told her as I lit
up Vicki's first full cigarette ever, and she gratefully pulled hard on the
Salem and inhaled deeply. I emerged from the bathroom and closed the door
behind me, then lit up one of my own in the hallway and took several quick
puffs to mask Vicki's smoke. I eventually
returned outside and after about 5 minutes so did Vicki, greeting me with a
quiet wink and a satisfied smile.

That evening Vicki retired about a half-hour before I did, and when I
eventually entered the darkened bedroom I heard her stir, so I turned on the
lamp and greeted her. After I got myself ready for bed, I sat on the edge of
Vicki's bed and reached for my cigarettes. She sat up, looking at me in
anticipation, and I lit a Salem and handed it to her after first taking a
puff myself. She greedily took a long pull, drawing the rich, mentholated
cloud as deeply into her lungs as I had ever seen her do, and continued to
smoke most of the cigarette, only returning it to me once when I asked her
to do so. As she crushed out the butt in the ashtray I lit a second and we
were able to share this more or less equally. I then knew that my feelings
of earlier in the evening were pretty
much confirmed. Without really thinking of the consequences, I had introduced my
daughter to cigarettes, and now nearly a year later Vicki had been
transformed into a smoker. I felt a twinge of regret and guilt, and decided
that I needed additional confirmation from her. So I asked her in a quiet
voice, "Vicki, do you like smoking?"



More to come... 

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