Losing It, Part 4

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 2002 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.

The author gratefully acknowledges that some inspiration for this story came
from a 1998 story entitled "Weighty Problems" written by an anonymous author
posted elsewhere on this page.

LOSING IT

4.	Suzanne's Angst.

   That night Suzanne got home late.  Things hadn't gone well at work.  A
client changed his mind on some drawings she prepared, and two weeks of work
had to be redone.  She was surly, and seemed particularly irritated that
Francine did nothing to prepare dinner.

   In fact, dinner wasn't her job.  Suzanne always prepared supper.  But
tonight it didn't matter.  She snapped at Francine as she lit up a cigarette
and began putting a salad together.

   Francine saw it wasn't a good time to talk about her job opportunity or
what happened to Kristen.  She'd bide her time till they finished eating, and
her mom had another cigarette.

   As Suzanne lit up after dinner, Francine watched smoke trickle from her
mom's nostrils.  She had to smile.  God, it looked so nice, so good!  She
wished she could have one, too.  But of course, she couldn't.

   "I went to visit Kristen at the restaurant.  Do you know she's not working
anymore?"

   Suzanne raised an eyebrow.  "Really?  No, I hadn't heard.  Why's that?"

   "I thought maybe Mrs. Martin told you.  After all, you're sort of friends."

   "Beth Martin and I don't talk much since we stopped teaching Sunday school
together." She paused for a hit on her cigarette.  "So, what happened?"

   Francine was relieved she didn't know.  It meant Mrs. Martin wasn't
snooping around about her.  "Mrs. Martin found out Kristen's been smoking
there.  I guess she went ballistic and grounded Kristen, and forbade her to
work there anymore."  She waited hopefully for a response.

   Suzanne smirked.  "Well, I can't say I blame Beth.  I'd do the same thing
if I found out you were smoking, Francine!"

   The youngster stifled a gulp.  "Well, I don't think it's fair, or smart.
Kristen's been _so_ shy.  She's never had friends, except me.  She never fit
in at school.  But this summer she's coming out of her shell.  Working at the
restaurant was _so_ good for her self-confidence.  But now she's back to being
a recluse.  It's sad.  I think her mom made a mistake grounding her."

   Suzanne released a profuse stream of smoke.  "A month ago you yourself said
Kristen started smoking there at the restaurant, Francine.  I didn't tell
Beth, but now that she knows, I think she was right to remove that
temptation."

   Francine groaned.  "Oh God, Mom.  Don't be silly!  The temptation to smoke
didn't come from working there.  It began with her mom.  Mrs. Martin's always
smoked.  Kristen's been curious about it for a long time.  Working there just
made it possible to indulge more than she otherwise could.  But it didn't
start her smoking, and I bet anything the grounding won't stop her smoking,
either."

   "Francine, I hardly believe what I'm hearing.  Are you defending Kristen?"

   "I'm not defending or accusing her.  I'm stating a fact.  This summer, for
the first time, Kristen has self-confidence.  She doesn't melt down around
people anymore.  It's great.  We both changed this summer in different ways.
She's outgoing, and I'm skinny.  Like I said, I think her mom's making a
mistake pulling her back into her shell by keeping her home."

   "Francine, are you trying to encourage me to call Beth and intercede for
Kristen?  I'm not inclined to.  Anyway, I thought you didn't approve of her
smoking?"

   Francine squirmed.  "I never said that," she fibbed.  The last time they
talked about it she loudly criticized her friend's habit.  But given her
change of circumstances, she felt it best to ignore that.  "Someone ought to
talk sense to Mrs. Martin.  Smoking's not the end of the world.  Lots of
people smoke."  She paused.  "You do, Mom.  So do Mr. and Mrs. Martin."

   "That's why we don't want you guys to start.  We know too well how hard it
is to quit.  Sorry, honey.  I'm not getting in the middle of this.  Kristen
did something she shouldn't have, and she has to suffer the consequences."

   Francine sighed.  It wasn't the response she hoped for.  "Another thing,
Mom," she went on.  "The manager's short-handed now.  He asked if I'm
interested in taking Kristen's place as the restaurant's hostess during the
day."

   Suzanne startled.  "You?"

   Francine smiled.  "Yeah, me.  He says he needs a pretty girl, someone with
a nice smile.  Do you believe it?" she giggled.  "He wants me.  I'd rather see
Kristen get her job back, but if that's not happening, I want to take
Kristen's place.  What do you think?"

   "God, I don't know," Suzanne mumbled, stubbing out her cigarette and
reaching for another one.  "I guess you're old enough to have a real job.  Are
you sure you want to?"

   She nodded.  "The manager wants me to be the person customers see when they
come in.  He thinks I'm good looking, Mom.  God, no one ever said that.
Never.  Suddenly, I'm beautiful, not a fat blubbery slob everyone looks away
from.  It's the coolest thing ever.  So, can I do it?"

   Suzanne deliberated.  "What about your workouts?  And there's lots of food
there.  Are you sure you won't be tempted to eat?"

   Francine laughed.  If she only knew the truth!

   "No, Mom.  I'll work out at night.  I only have coffee when I visit
Kristen.  I'll do the same thing if I work there.  I don't eat much anymore,
Mom.  I'm sure you've noticed."

   "Yeah, and I don't know how you do it," she said, wistfully.  She raised
her cigarette to her lips.  Inhaling, she gazed at Francine.  "It's okay with
me if you think it's the right thing.  I just don't want you to start eating
all the time again."

   "I won't, Mom.  We both quit eating too much.  As a result, you got a
boyfriend, and now I got a job."  She stood.  "I need to call Jack, the
manager, to tell him I can start tomorrow."  She leaned over and kissed
Suzanne while savoring the delicious ambient smoke rising into the air from
her cigarette.  "Thanks, Mom.  Thanks a lot!"

   Suzanne frowned as Francine left.  It was too bad about Kristen, but Beth
was right.  She couldn't let Kristen smoke.  It'd be illegal and
irresponsible.  But what troubled her more was Francine's new, cavalier
attitude about smoking.  What happened to the kid who made a face every time
she lit up?  To the girl who begged her not to smoke and complained endlessly
when she used it to lose weight?  Francine now seemed too tolerant, too
casual.  Was it possible she was smoking with Kristen?  They were friends.  If
Kristen was smoking, was Francine, too?

   That thought made Suzanne shiver.  She meant it when she said she never
wanted her to smoke, although she herself didn't want to quit.  She liked to
smoke, but that wasn't the point.  To Suzanne, it was like being consigned to
a magnificent prison.  It wasn't such a bad place, but the trouble was, you
could never escape.  She was a smoker; she was stuck.  But Francine wasn't,
and she didn't want her to be.  She knew why Beth Martin was upset.  Kristen
made a big mistake smoking.  Francine wasn't dumb enough to try it, was she?
Was it even possible?

   Suzanne pondered this.  The air seemed a little smoky when she got home.
Not fresh smoke, but fresher than it should've been after all day with no one
smoking.  She walked to the family room.  Francine hadn't emptied the
ashtrays, something she ordinarily did now.  She wondered why not.  She
inspected the ashtray on the table.  The butts were all her brand, Benson &
Hedges.  But as she looked more closely, some were crushed out differently
than others.

   Like most smokers, Suzanne knew how she crushed out her cigarettes.  She
smoked hers almost to the filter and pinched it crushing it out.  Some butts
in the ashtray were stubbed out differently, without the telltale pinch of the
filter she always performed.  She rubbed her chin.  Might she have done that?
Or was Francine smoking her cigarettes at home during the day?

   No, it wasn't possible, she told herself.  Francine wouldn't!  Would she?
The specter haunted Suzanne.  She counted the butts in the ashtray and filed
away the number in her brain.  Looking up, she saw her daughter coming into
the room.

   Suzanne smiled.  An inspiration hit her.  "Honey, I'm going to Roger's,"
she said casually.  "Are you all set for tomorrow?"

   "Yeah," the youngster beamed.  "Jack is real happy I can step in.  Imagine,
Mom.  Me, having a real job as a hostess!"

   "Yep, it's great," Suzanne agreed, preoccupied.  "Listen, don't wait up.  I
may stay late at Roger's.  I'll be back, but for sure it'll be after you go to
bed."

   "No problem, Mom.  I need to wash my khaki pants to be ready.  I'll go to
bed early.  I have to be there before seven thirty."

   "Did you work out today?"

   "Yeah, this afternoon," Francine smiled.  "How about you, Mom?  Isn't
tonight your night to run?"

   "I'm going to skip tonight," Suzanne sighed.  "I need to see Roger."

   Suzanne left.  While driving, she considered the evidence.  Someone else
smoked in her family room.  Those _weren't_ her butts.  She could think of two
possible suspects.  The first was Kristen, who might've come over to smoke,
figuring it was safe at their house.  And Francine might have let her.  But
Kristen started work at seven thirty.  Plus, she was grounded now.  No, it
couldn't be Kristen.  The only other suspect was Francine.  She couldn't
believe Francine was smoking.  But if not, what about the butts in the
ashtray?  Well, when she came home, she'd know.  She told Francine she'd be
late.  She'd see if her daughter was smoking because she'd count the butts in
the ashtray again when she got back.

   Suzanne's suspicions were well founded, but her plan was flawed.  Francine
was too excited about her new job to smoke that night.  She wasn't used to
smoking in the evenings, and it never occurred to her.  Suzanne got home at
midnight and checked the ashtray in the family room.  No change in the number
of cigarette butts!  Confused, she went to bed, determined to keep her eyes
and ears open.  Something fishy was going on!

   The next morning Francine drove to work.  She had a cigarette in her car on
the way.  Till now she'd avoided smoking in her car, but she needed at least
one cigarette before starting the day.  She didn't know how long it'd be till
she could have one at the restaurant.  If her mom said anything about the
smell, she'd blame it on poor Kristen for the time being.

   Her first day at work went well.  It wasn't hard.  Mostly she stood at the
hostess station.  When people entered, she seated them in the appropriate area
and section.  Every waitress had a group of tables.  She apportioned customers
so each girl had equal numbers.  There was a room in back where the girls
could smoke on breaks.  But if it wasn't busy, most of the girls took their
breaks in the rear of the smoking section.  Jack didn't seem to mind.

   Francine was fascinated to compare the number of smokers versus non-smokers
who came in.  Smokers were a minority, but just barely.  And the smokers cut
across all age, gender, social and class lines.  Some of those she seated in
smoking were as young or younger than her.  She especially smiled as she
seated a group of teenagers in smoking.  She felt protective of them.  After
all, they were her people, because they were smokers, too!

   Each time Jack said she could take a break, she did.  For long periods in
the mid-morning and mid-afternoon there were very few customers.  That gave
her a chance for those 'unofficial' breaks Jack mentioned the night before.
She wound up smoking a lot more than at home.  She had nothing to do on breaks
except smoke and drink coffee.  By the time she left, she'd had a dozen
cigarettes, but she still smoked one more on her drive home.  It felt like the
perfect end to a perfect day!  Significantly, she'd eaten nothing.  Coffee and
cigarettes were becoming her best friends, in more ways than one!

   She got home just before her mom.  Suzanne hugged her.  "God, you smell
like smoke," she observed warily, sniffing her daughter's brown hair.  She
made a face.  "Why is that?"

   For the first time Francine realized Suzanne was truly suspicious that she
was smoking.  Stifling a gulp, she smiled.  "Well, Mom, in the break room,
someone's always smoking."  She laughed.  It wasn't a lie, though it didn't
explain the odor sticking to her hair.  "Don't get paranoid on me, Mom, for
God's sake."

   "I'm not, honey.  I just worry, that's all.  Kristen started smoking
because she worked there.  I just don't want you to make that same mistake."

   Francine sighed.  "Mom, for the hundredth time, Kristen did _not_ start
smoking at the restaurant.  She started months ago.  Her mom's smoking was
what made her curious."  As soon as she said that, she knew it was a mistake.
She laughed casually.  "Oh Mom, just don't worry about it.  That's my advice."

   Suzanne feigned a smile.  "Right, honey.  I won't worry."  She lit up a
cigarette for herself and started to fix supper.  She glanced at Francine from
the corner of her eye.  Her daughter's eyes were unmistakably fixed on the
burning B&H dangling from her lips.  Suzanne gasped.  Unless she was mistaken,
it wasn't a look of disgust, but a look of ardent yearning.

   Suzanne smoked in silence while fixing dinner.  God damn!  What kind of
example was she setting for Francine anyway?  Here she was, smoking
incessantly while working in the kitchen.  Smoking like a chimney, how could
_she_ condemn her daughter if she wanted to?  The thought conflicted her, but
she felt she had to stop it if Francine was experimenting with tobacco.  As
much as she loved her cigarettes, she didn't want her teenager to get sucked
in by nicotine's lure.  She took another drag and inhaled unusually deeply.
God, though, she _did_ love to smoke!  It was undeniable.  That thought
conflicted her in the other direction.  God, what if Francine was already
hooked?  Could she really condemn her to the suffering of quitting?  That
troubled Suzanne as much as the need to protect her from the evil habit.  With
a sigh she crushed her spent cigarette in the ashtray.  Dinner was ready.  She
had no hard evidence, not yet, just strong suspicions and circumstantial
support.  But sooner or later she'd learn the truth.

   Meanwhile, Francine now knew her mom was worried she was smoking.  Had she
inadvertently said or done something to arouse those suspicions?  She didn't
think so.  But she'd definitely be more careful from now on.

   After supper, Francine left the house to run.  The weather was beautiful,
she announced to Suzanne.  She wanted to run outdoors instead of on the
treadmill.  In fact, the reason she wanted to run outside was because she
really wanted a cigarette.  Smelling her mom's before and after supper drove
her crazy.  After smoking all day at work, she felt a gentle craving for more.
She dropped two B&H's into the pocket of her shorts along with her lighter,
and left the house.

   Suzanne knew nothing of Francine's plan to smoke outside, but took the
opportunity to make a telephone call to her old friend, Beth Martin.  Beth
picked up the phone on the first ring.

   "Beth, it's Suzanne.  Do you have a minute to talk about what happened with
you and Kristen?  About the smoking thing?"

   On the other end she heard a sigh.  "Oh God.  I guess Kristen told
Francine.  Yeah, sure, Suzanne, I'd be happy to, I guess.  It's a pretty tough
situation, though, to be honest."

   "I don't think our daughters talked," Suzanne answered.  "I heard Kristen's
grounded, not allowed to use the phone.  No, Francine heard it at the
restaurant.  She took Kristen's old job.  They hired her to be the new daytime
hostess."

   There was a long pause.  "Shit," Beth finally muttered.  "Listen, Suzanne,
you're smoking again.  So you can imagine how conflicted I felt when I found
out Kristen smokes.  Damn!  I hit the roof, but a lot of it's my own guilt.  I
mean, Christ, I've been a heavy smoker for years.  I was a terrible influence.
So I blame myself.  But I had to draw the line.  Maybe I've been a little hard
on Kristen, but I felt like I had to do something."

   Suzanne sensed helplessness and frustration in her voice.  "Believe me,
Beth, I understand.  I'm sure I'd feel exactly the same.  Why don't you tell
me what happened?  I'm glad to lend a sympathetic ear."

   As she waited, she heard a telltale click.  Suzanne had to smile.  Her old
friend was lighting up!  No surprise; Beth had been a pack a day plus smoker
as long as she'd known her.

   "I was looking for something in the coat closet," Beth began.  "I
accidentally knocked Kristen's jacket off its hanger.  A disposable lighter
fell out of the pocket.  I'm not dumb.  I knew what it meant.  I went upstairs
and rooted around in her room.  I found a couple packs of cigarettes hidden
away.  When Kristen got home, I confronted her.  She didn't deny it, but said
she didn't intend to quit, and told me I couldn't make her.  That made me mad,
so I told her we'd see.  I grounded her for the rest of the summer and phoned
the restaurant to tell the manager Kristen wouldn't be back."

   "And how's Kristen taking it?"

   Beth laughed.  "Do you mean, has she quit smoking?  Well, pretty much, yes.
I'm home all day, so it's pretty hard for her to smoke while she's grounded.
I suppose it's possible she's sneaking a few cigarettes when I'm out running
errands.  But mostly, she's had to stop.  We've hardly talked, though, since I
grounded her.  She just sits in her room and mopes.  She hasn't said ten words
to me since our confrontation.  The only person she's talked to since is her
little brother.  The two of them just play video games on his Playstation 2
all day."

   "Maybe you answered this already, but what I meant was, how upset is
Kristen?"

   "Oh, she's pissed," Beth confirmed after audibly exhaling into the
receiver.  She sighed.  "I don't know, Suzanne.  God, maybe I did the wrong
thing.  I'm glad you called.  I haven't talked to anyone about this except my
husband.  Frankly, I'm embarrassed.  You know what I mean?  He and I both
smoke, and now our daughter's smoking, too, for Christ's sake.  God, it makes
us look so bad, like it's our fault that Kristen wants to smoke.  You know?"

   Suzanne reached for her own cigarettes and lit one up.  "I know, Beth,
believe me.  Recently I've worried about Francine.  That's why I called.  I'm
afraid she may be smoking, too," she added with trepidation.  "Did Kristen say
anything about Francine smoking?"

   There was a long pause.  Suzanne's heart was in her mouth.

   "I don't think so," Beth finally replied.  "I know Kristen smoked at work.
I gave the manager hell for letting her.  Kristen says all the girls at the
restaurant smoke, but I don't think she said anything about Francine smoking.
No, I'm sure she didn't."

   Suzanne sighed audibly, with great relief.  "Good.  I've been so worried,"
she admitted.  "God, you must feel terrible, Beth.  I feel _so_ sorry for you.
But I guess you have to draw the line somewhere, don't you?"

   "God, I don't know," Beth mumbled.  "I mean, smoking's terrible and all.
But here we are, both of us, and what the hell are we doing?  We're both
smoking our fuckin' cigarettes while we talk on the phone.  At the same time
we whine about how our daughters should never do what we're doing.  Shit, it's
so ironic.  Truth, Suzanne?  I don't like to say it, but I really wonder if
I'm being a fuckin' hypocrite.  I mean, shit, maybe I should just let Kristen
do what she wants, and smoke.  After all, that's what I wanted at her age, and
that's what I did.  I bet you did, too."

   "Would that be better, Beth?  Then you'd feel guilty for not trying to stop
her.  Right?"

   "Yeah, you're right.  God, I don't know," her friend sighed.  Suzanne heard
her take a long hit on her cigarette.  "Actually, I guess I'll feel pretty
shitty about it, whatever I do."

   "And what about Bob?  What does he think?"

   Beth laughed.  "Oh, Bob's into conflict-avoidance.  He won't even talk
about it.  But he doesn't really give a shit.  He just wants things calm
around the house, and the last few days it's been anything but!  I think he's
a little pissed I came down so hard on poor Kristen.  He's not happy she's
smoking, of course, but thinks I went too far grounding her."  She paused.
"Bob says there's not much we can do about it.  After all, Kristen _is_
sixteen and a half, and we've both smoked around her for her whole life.  The
die is sort of cast.  That's Bob's view.  He's not very supportive of my
discipline."

   "So what will you do?  It sounds like you still haven't decided."

   Beth sighed.  "God, Suzanne, I don't know.  For now I'll just do what I've
been doing, I guess.  Kristen's grounded, and she's giving me the silent
treatment.  I think she hopes eventually we'll negotiate some compromise.  But
I can't just let her smoke.  Can I?"

   "I know you're tempted to, Beth.  But you can't.  If you let Kristen smoke,
even under strict conditions, she'll never stop.  Then she'll be like us;
hooked, for good."

   "Just like us," Beth sighed.  "That's why it's so hard.  My daughter wants
to be just like me, and I'm telling her she can't.  Suzanne, you know me.  I
smoke over a pack a day, and have for years.  I like smoking, even if I
shouldn't.  I don't want to quit, though I've thought about it the last couple
days.  If I quit, then I'd be on high moral ground.  But damn it, I don't want
to.  It's terrible to say, but even if they're bad for me, I love my
cigarettes."  Sighing, she went on.  "It's hard that Kristen only wants to be
like me."

   "Stay strong, Beth," Suzanne said compassionately.  "Kristen doesn't
realize it, but you're doing her a big favor.  You're saving her from a
life-long mistake we both made."

   "What about you, Suzanne?  You like your cigarettes, don't you?  Would you
quit if you were me?  And what if Francine _is_ smoking?  Will you volunteer
to quit, for her sake?"

   Suzanne gulped and dragged on her B&H.  "God, I don't know, Beth," she
whispered.  "I've thought about it.  Smoking's helped me lose weight; I don't
eat much anymore.  I smoke instead.  But to be honest, I don't know if I could
quit at this point.  I suppose I should if I suspect Francine's experimenting
with it."

   "I didn't ask if you _should_ quit, Suzanne.  I asked if you will.  There's
a difference"

   "Yeah.  And I don't know," she gasped.  "I don't know the answer to that."

   The discussion was over.  Suzanne hung up the phone, her hands trembling.
God, what was she going to do now?

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