It was January. Here she was in the kitchen in the middle of the week, and
there it was on the table, but she wasn’t going to touch it, of course.
It was the fresh pack of cigarettes that Sharon had left for her.
Catherine stared at the bright gold color and the shiny cellophane wrapper,
imagining all the long, white cigarettes that lay within. It made her mind
drift off to the club and the weekends that she and Sharon had been sharing
together. As she gazed at it, she absently twirled her hair in her fingers.
She had been growing it out, and it was just reaching her shoulders now. It
was an adjustment getting used to the tickling on her neck, but she felt it
was a more appropriate style for someone who was supposed to be a senior in
college.
It had become a weekly ritual. The girls would go out to the club together,
either with or without Hugh, and chat and enjoy the music and the fun.
Sharon had introduced Catherine as her older sister, not her Mom, and this
delightful deception was so much fun for Catherine that she just could not
stop thinking about it all of the time. During the week, she now frequently
concentrated on her appearance, doing a little eyebrow plucking sometimes,
and experimenting with new eyeshadows and lip liners of much bolder color
palettes than Sharon’ Mom would have ever tried.
In their first few visits to the club, Sharon often would have her Mom hold
her lit cigarette when she went to dance, and Catherine would play with it,
just taking a few tiny puffs. She had to admit that the little light-headed
feeling the cigarettes gave her was rather pleasant, and she found herself
inhaling the smoke more often and more deeply, as week after week went by.
It was a very satisfying sensation. One cigarette for the evening out had
become two, then three. Then she had begun taking them from Sharon’s pack
whenever Sharon would offer them to her, allowing her daughter to regulate
her consumption. She learned to light them comfortably by herself. But, she
wasn’t really a regular smoker, she told herself.
Catherine was just adoring the colored lights and the music and all the
excitement of the club, and she would always look forward to those Saturday
nights with her new younger sister. Smoking was just an illusion, wasn’t it
? Just two young girls sitting and smoking and having some drinks together
while enjoying the sounds of laughter and watching all the loving and happy
people. No, Catherine certainly wasn’t a regular smoker at all, just an
imposter pretending to be young and glamorous again.
She fingered the smooth pack on the table, tracing its outline with her
nail, imagining herself watching everyone’s smiles, the blue cloudy air, the
good feeling of breathing out a little bit of smoke into the light…
“Oh, hell..” she said, then quickly peeled open the pack.
In a few minutes, she had located the book of matches, struck one and looked
at the flame with the cigarette dangling from her lips. She then stopped,
took the unlit cigarette from her mouth and blew out the match, smelling the
acrid sulfur of the smoking matchhead.
“What am I doing ? This is silly. I’m not a smoker,” she said, looking at
the long, white cigarette in her fingers.
She then held out her hand absently, admiring the burgundy color of the
polish that she had gotten at the nail place yesterday. They do such a fine
job there, she thought, just right for the club, and nicely contrasting that
new black spaghetti-strap top she had bought. They had filed nice, rounded
ends and applied a hard, shiny clear-coat. Catherine was being much more
careful to avoid breaking her nails lately, because she liked the look of
the long, smooth red tips next to the long, white cigarette. Just another
sexy college girl at the club, she would be. She could hardly wait for the
weekend to come.
The cigarette was still in her fingers, beckoning to her. Catherine noted
that it didn’t look quite right there, because it wasn’t burning. The
appearance was unfinished.
“Well, just this once. That can’t hurt,” she mumbled to herself, justifying
the act as a thorough check of her manicure.
She put the cigarette back into her lips then, picked up the matchbook once
again and struck a flame. This time, she lit the end, pulled lightly and
puffed without inhaling, thus expertly expelling the match taste. She shook
the match out, watching the thick puff of smoke drifting away from her
mouth, saw the familiar burning cigarette in front of her nose, just as if
she were at the club with all the friendly voices and the clinking of
glasses and the lights.
She took another puff, then opened her mouth and inhaled the smoke deeply
into her lungs. She sat at the table and propped her elbow up as she exhaled
a thin stream of smoke across the kitchen, thinking of the music and feeling
that friendly and now-familiar feeling inside of her body. She imagined the
strains of that old song that the DJ liked to play as she put the smooth,
white filter to her lips once more and closed her eyes, pulled strongly and
then inhaled, letting the nicotine begin to work its magic.
“Something happened to my heart,
The day that I met you.
Something that I’ve never felt before…”
***
It was May, and the end of the school year. Warm weather had finally
arrived, and the windows in the house were open to admit the gentle
springtime breezes. On this Saturday afternoon, Catherine had just finished
brushing her hair. It was now over her shoulders, and she parted it in the
center, letting the long strands hang straight down on both sides of her
face. She smiled at herself in the mirror, put the hairbrush down, then
almost skipped over to the closet in excitement.
She removed the brand new dress from its hanger and held it up to let the
rays of the setting sun illuminate it fully in front of the window. She
might not have bought it for fear it was much too young for her, but it was
on sale at the department store and the price made it hard to resist. The
nearly middle age woman within her suggested that she not wear it at all,
perhaps give it to Sharon, since they wore the same dress size. Yes, that
was the reason she had purchased it; it was for Sharon, wasn’t it ?
Sharon, of course, was in her room at the moment, readying herself for their
night out. Sharon already had a beautiful outfit, and had many other
beautiful clothes, too. Someone else ought to wear it, because it would be
such a shame to let it hang in the dark closet all alone. Perhaps Sharon’
big sister might like to use it tonight. Of course! That was the reason she
got it. It was for the older daughter, not for Sharon. How could she have
forgotten ?
She pulled it down over her head and stood in front of the mirror, adjusting
the fabric of the dress to fit the contours of her body. Catherine made a
mental note that she ought to get into the sun and start to work on a tan
soon because her skin looked so white. Then again, perhaps it just seemed
that way because she was not accustomed to seeing so much of her skin still
showing after the completion of dressing.
A small chill rocketed up her spine, and she began to giggle. She stopped,
regained her composure, and then admired herself in the mirror. She often
became drunk with the joy of her new look, basking in the tantalizing
sensations of a rebirth, a new person, a strong and young person, assuming
her rightful role as the dominant and vibrant personality. Gone was the
aging, lonely mother. Gone were the days of housecleaning and watching soap
operas.
The dress she wore was a short, strapless, black velvet beauty, starting
generously above the black nylon-stockinged knees, sweeping snugly over the
contour of each hip and drawing in to follow her slim waistline. It then
flared, stretching out to cradle each breast and leaving an absolutely
sinful amount of cleavage up top.
“OOO! Thanks for the dress, Mom! Bye, gotta go get another cigarette now!”
she exclaimed to the figure behind the mirror, throwing a kiss at the
departing matron.
It was still early, and Sharon was not quite ready yet, so Catherine
reclined on the bed, running her hands down over her shape and admiring the
way the dress clung to her body. She reached over to the nighttable to
retrieve her cigarettes. Busy with makeup and dressing, she had not smoked
in almost an hour, and felt the need coming on very strongly.
With the pretty, silver lighter she made a licking, yellow flame and used it
to light herself up. The click of shutting it off echoed in the room while
she pulled deeply, causing her cheeks to collapse and making the tip of the
cigarette glow brightly in the now-twilight bedroom scene. Her mother was
gone now, and Catherine admired herself in the mirror as she opened her
mouth and wrapped her tongue around the thick ball of creamy smoke. She
snapped it down deeply into her lungs, and felt the edge of the strapless
dress stretching across her chest.
She exhaled a dense stream of pure white smoke and watched it curl and swirl
across the room in a witchy way. She had come to really love smoking,
because it made her feel so alive and full of energy. Morning, noon and
night she now smoked, each and every day, and enjoyed all of the puffs to
their fullest. Catherine had become dependent upon her cigarettes, and was
so grateful for what they had done for her. She knew that, like Sharon, she
would never be without them. The music played through her head while she
looked lovingly at the burning cigarette in her fingers.
“You are always on my mind,
No matter what I do.
And every day it seems I want you more…”
As she lay back and took a longer and more luxurious pull from the burning
tobacco, Catherine contemplated how much she appreciated her new life, so
pleased with herself and all she had become over the past school year.
Catherine the co-ed. What better way to go through college than to simply
enjoy the weekend life without any books and studying and classes during the
week? All of the pleasure and none of the work, she thought, as the heavy
puff struck her lungs and gave her that comfortable, magical tingle. It was
the perfect and most wickedly delicious deception, now become completely
real for her, and she owed it all to her beloved daughter, Sharon.
Catherine tilted her head back, closed her eyes and let the clouds of thick
smoke roll out from her nose, no longer thinking back to the little girl’s
tea party as she used to, but to another day in the living room last
March….
“And then you can do this,” Sharon said, letting the smoke pour over her top
lip and into her nose.
“Isn’t that really cool ?” Sharon laughed and exhaled.
“That’s not bad!” Sharon said, watching her mom’s first attempt at the
french inhale. “Let’s sit in front of the mirror so you can see yourself,
and see how sexy you look !”
Catherine experimented, trying hard to confine the cloud, carefully
controlling her breath to try and sniff all of it up her nose.
“Oh, my, that went right to my head,” she giggled, as any college girl
might. Catherine had been playing her part of the older sister very well,
and Sharon was really coming to regard her Mom as a girlfriend instead of an
elder.
“Then, you can do it the other way,” Sharon said excitedly, then dragged and
inhaled deeply. Catherine giggled as she saw her daughter go cross-eyed and
look at her nose. Then, she was delighted with the appearance of long,
double streams of smoke that came falling down and sweeping around from
Sharon’s nostrils.
“Let me try that!” she said, taking a lengthy drag and inhaling.
“Very good, Cath!” Sharon squealed as she saw an excellent copy of her own
thick nostril exhale forming below her mom’s nose. Catherine smiled.
“You know, you just called me Cath?”
“Oh…, I’m sorry, Mom. I was getting a little carried away. It’s just that
you’ve become so cool with your smoking, and I…, well….didn’t mean any
disrespect,” Sharon looked embarrassed.
“No, no, no, darling! Call me Cath, oh please do! It’s wonderful!”
Catherine hugged her and kissed her cheek. Sharon hugged her best friend
back. The women then sat in front of the mirror and pulled on their
cigarettes simultaneously, producing a pair of bright, orange tips in front
of their faces. They inhaled together, then let thick, smoky plumes descend
from their nostrils. Both of them felt that a new and wonderful relationship
had begun.
***
In the middle of dancing, Hugh felt Sharon’ body stop and stiffen.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” he pulled back to look at her face. Sharon’ eyes were
focused far off across the room, so Hugh turned to look.
Catherine was still sitting at the table where they had left her, but the
picture was different now. She gripped a long white cigarette in her
fingers, and was holding it into her lips, bending forward into the flame.
Across from her was a handsome gentleman, holding a lighter and smiling at
her while she drew on the cigarette and then inhaled. They saw her smile and
say something, then turn to exhale delicately into the light. She held her
cigarette up next to her face, laughed as she listened to him, then returned
the cigarette to her lips once more.
The man was dressed in a trim, earth-tone suit with an attractive, but
subtle green tie. His face had a strong cut to it, and there was a small
hint of dignified grey in his otherwise dark hair. He smiled and seemed to
be captivated while watching Catherine exhale rich, white, smoky plumes from
her nostrils.
Sharon led Hugh over to the DJ as the song completed. She whispered
something in the DJ’s ear, then they returned to the floor to start a new
dance to the requested song, pausing often to look back at Catherine, and
that loving way she gazed at the man with her. Her animated conversation,
the beautiful dress with her long hair sweeping down and her vibrant pose
were absolutely stunning.
“My love is warmer than the warmest sunshine,
Softer than a sigh.
My love is deeper than the deepest ocean,
Wider than the sky…”
They saw Catherine take a very strong pull on her cigarette, then sit up
straight as she inhaled deeply and smiled, her eyes twinkling and shining.
They caught the gentleman admiring her body, his eyes roving over
Catherine’s form and posture in the brightly colored spotlights of the club.
He asked her some kind of question. They saw her wink at him and nod while
she performed the most sensual exhale that Sharon had ever seen in her life.
Clearly, mother had been practicing.
“My love is brighter than the brightest star,
That shines every night above,
But there is nothing in this world
That could ever change my love.”
Hugh saw that Sharon was crying, and wanted to ask her what was wrong. Then,
he stopped, realizing that these were tears of joy she shed, watching her
mom walking arm in arm with this handsome gentleman, across the dance floor
and over to the entrance. Hugh smiled and nodded at them, returning
Catherine’s wave from the doorway, then seeing her blowing them a kiss with
the cigarette still in her fingers.
“She’s so grown-up now,” Sharon murmured tearfully.
Hugh kissed Sharon, rubbing his lips against hers and tasting the rich
tobacco flavor that he found so delicious about this woman. The couple then
returned to the table to retrieve Sharon’ cigarettes and similarly bid the
club farewell for the evening. They both felt elated, and wanted to
celebrate this occasion in private.
Catherine had now graduated, with high honors!
THE END