Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Lifeline, Part 4

   Three years and couple of brief affairs with a number of women later, I
was on my way home from Europe, where I had been at the local headquarter
of the company I worked for.  With the fall of the iron curtain, activities
in Europe were in constant change and they needed even rookies like me to
help out sometimes.  I had done well and my boss granted me a two days of
paid vacation extra which I planned to spend in New York.

   I had never been to Big Apple before and I wanted to know what it was
all about.  I took a room at the Norfolk Hotel in Manhattan, not far from
Times Square.  After a difficult night because of the jet lag, hunger drove
me out of the hotel bed.  I tried to find an open diner, first on the
street behind the hotel, but the only one open looked so shabby that I
turned around and walked down the block towards Time Square.  At every
corner an Afro stood rattling a cup with some coins in it.  I dropped some
change in each of them, as some of them looked quite able to use force if I
ignored them.  Maybe New Yorkers knew how to deal with them, but I, having
lived most of my life in smaller towns that were comparatively "clean",
preferred to give in.  It's the cowards that survive, as my grandpa used to
say.

   In front of Sbarro's, wich wouldn't open for another hour, I saw a woman
in a cheap gray coat and disheveled and dirty hair.  She swayed lightly and
the moment I dropped my half smoked cigarette as it didn't taste well in
the damp fumes of the morning air, she launched in a jump or more like a
fall my way and collected the stub before I was able to crush it under my
heel.  I felt ashamed and even thou I thought that a cigarette was about
the last thing that the poor soul needed, I reached into my pocket to take
out the pack of cigarettes and give it to her.  As she dragged on that stub
like it contained the last drop of oxygen of a diving suit one hundred feet
under the sea, something in her struck me as familiar.  She blew out a huge
cloud of smoke and even thou a wet cough shook her, she took another direct
inhale which against reason seemed to calm down her cough.

   I took the pack of cigarettes, which was almost full and extended it for
her to take it.  She raised her head and looked at me.  We were both struck
by instant recognition.  All she could whisper was "Georgieee" before she
collapsed into my arms.  She was light like a feather.  Would she have been
a stranger, her smell would have filled me with repulsion and I would have
probably laid her down on the sidewalk and called emergency.  But it was
Celine and she had sunken deeper than I would have thought it possible. 
Luckily she recovered a little and I thought that the best thing would be
to smuggle her up in my hotel room.  An old friend of my father's worked in
a hospital in Manhattan, so I called him up on my cell phone.  I was lucky.
He was off duty and would be there in half an hour.  I took Celine by the
waist and step by step we managed to reach the side entrance of the
Norfolk. A larger bill into the hands of the porter solved the problem how
to get past the receptionist.  We took the service elevator and reached my
room without further incidents.

   Dr.  Lukas, my father's friend, came over.  He looked at Celine and then
said I should get her a Coke.  Among other things she certainly was
dehydrated, but Dr.  Lukas, who insisted we call him Paul, thought that a
Coke or two would stabilize her enough so she could take a bath.  He did
not fear an immediate collapse for her.  He asked when the last time when
she had eaten something had been, but he couldn't get a coherent answer
from her.  All she did was repeating "Georgiee, Georgieee" all over again.
I got the Cokes.  In tone with the general dilapidated state of the hotel,
the cooling of the machine was broken so the Cokes I got weren't chilled.
She drank both bottles and it seemed to do her good.  The first words she
spoke apart from my name were the plea for a cigarette.  I looked at Paul,
but he shrugged. 'Without some blood tests I can't say much, but I doubt
Nicotine is her biggest problem.  Her heart sounds reasonably good.  How
old is she?' 'Same as me, twenty-four.' 'Good Lord.  She looks like forty!
But that's what the street does to a woman.  OK, let's get her into the
tub.' While she passively dangled her cigarette, finishing it off in less
then three minutes, we managed to free her from the horrible rags under her
coat.  I had found a laundry sack and we dumped the rags in it and then
tied it up as good as we could, to lock in the stench they emanated.

   She looked almost like the horrible live skeletons I had seen in a
documentary of the liberation of a concentration camp after the war in
Europe.  Her skin, like her face, was covered with dirt and wounds.  We
helped her into the tub and denied her another cigarette as she coughed
constantly now.  Except for a sad look she accepted this.  The warm water
in the tub seemed to do her good and with a cloth I started to clean her
up. My heart was heavy as I compared the florid if depraved Celine from our
last unfortunate encounter with the ruin she was now.  She didn't even
twitch when I softly tried to clean all the little wounds that covered all
her members.  Paul insisted on taking care of her more intimate parts, both
as a doctor and an old man, even thou I had told him we had once been
lovers.  Finally, after half an hour, not to stress her circulatory system
too much, we helped her clad into the bathing robe of the hotel and into
bed.  After debating with Paul what to do next, I ordered what seemed to be
the best suited diet for someone who hadn't eaten regularly for a long
time. The room service at least was better than one could expect from the
otherwise run down appearance of the hotel.  They delivered some chicken
broth with a bit of bread.  Slowly Celine's cheeks recovered a bit of their
once rosy complexion.  She seemed quite able to talk now and of course she
wanted to smoke again.  Like before Paul shrugged and I gave her what she
wanted.  She smoked slower now, still double pumping, but with breaks to
breath clean air in-between. 'You have no idea how I craved to be able to
smoke one entire cigarette again.  I have lived on dirty stubs for month.'
she whispered.  Her voice was hoarse and week. 'Now what?' I asked Paul.
'Let me see if I can find a vein in her arm.  I think she is not in
immediate danger for the moment.  Tomorrow I'll be back and we shall see.
You can always call an ambulance if the going gets tough.' He left us
alone.

   I spent the day with her, getting her more to eat and drink, helping her
to the toilet when she needed it and I tried to keep her from smoking
overly much, but she smoked up two packs anyway.  A painful memory rose, of
the time more than four years ago, when she came to me fleeing from that
unfortunate marriage.  Like than I went and bought her two cartons of her
Reds.  Even thou her eyes still lacked their one time sparkling and the
sadness in them would never fully go away, she seemed to recover by the
minute.  Till the evening she had recovered her appetite.  The room had two
kingsize beds but she asked me to stay with her over night.  I held her in
a chaste embrace and she fell into a deep sleep.  The relapse came when I
had just drifted off myself.  She began to shiver and then she also coughed
uncontrollably and fought for air.  Then she cramped, her whole body
contorted by spasms.  After a while, when I was on the point to call nine
eleven, she seemed to recover a bit but then it started all over again. 
After half on hour whatever it was seemed to fade away and her breath
steadied.  She asked for a cigarette and even thou I had my doubts, I lit
two of them and gave her one.  This actually seemed to help her and she
almost burnt the matress when she drifted into sleep again, dropping her
arm with the still burning stub.  I removed it from her hand and crushed it
in the ashtray together with my half smoked cigarette.  The next crisis
came two hours later and this time my intuition told me to try help her
smoke while she was in the middle of it.  To my surprise it did help.  Paul
found us in the morning, both tired but composed.  Her fits didn't return
in daylight and even thou it sounded totally weird it seemed that her
constant smoking kept them away. 'Naughty girl!' Paul said with a more
forced joy, the kind doctors use to raise the spirits of badly ill
patients. 'After all you've been thru, you run for a cancer too.' Celine
seemed not listen to him.  She was too preoccupied to get as much Nicotine
as she could from her cigarette.  Even thou the extorting sufferings from
the last night had left their mark on her face she already looked ten years
younger then the day before. 'Now my pidgoens,' he went on with his doctors
humor.  'I have good news and bad news.  The bad one is that you, Young
lady, you sure haven't left out much of what the illegal market has to
offer in hard stuff.  The good knew is you seem to have been clean for a
while.  Now all depends on whether your young friend here is willing and
able to help you.  We could of course turn you over to some state facility,
but I doubt it would do you much good.  Personally, I'm not comfortable
with the kind of chemicals they use there and anyway only one out of ten
really stays clean after they leave.' 'By the way, did she have any
withdrawal symptoms last night?' he asked looking at me 'I'm afraid yes and
ugly ones too.  I almost called emergency twice.' 'After I read these
results, I figured as much.  This will take a lot of time and care.' 'But
will she recover?' I asked not without a selfish hind thought.  She was
still young enough, maybe...  But I called myself to order.  She was in
deep trouble and needed someone to help. 'Well, it's on knifes edge, if you
ask me.  I'm not really an expert on drugs, but I had dealt with cases a
bit similar to this one before.  Of course she needs round the clock care
and surveillance, as much as I regret to say that.  If she gets hold of
some hard stuff again, she probably won't survive.' he took the gear out if
his doctor's case, to give her shot of something. 'What's that?' I asked
somewhat alarmed. 'Oh, really!' he laughed.  'These are vitamins and some
tonic.  It will do her good and help her liver.  Let's hope it will recover
completely.  As long as stays away from alcohol...' She didn't wince when
he injected her the content of two little vials.  The pinch of a needle
sure wasn't new to her, I thought with bitterness.  There was something
else I wanted to ask him. 'I have made an interesting observation last
night.  I know it sounds stupid but she kept asking to smoke and it's
almost like it actually helped her.' Paul gave me a pensive look and
started into quite an explanation. 'Well, I can't say I'm very surprised.
You know, even thou personally I am totally against smoking, in this case
I'm afraid I can't deny there's a sort of benefic effect of Nicotine on her
system.' He laughed as he saw my puzzled expression. 'I just remembered
that my grandpa, who was a doctor too, used to recommend pregnant women to
take up smoking because back then it was a common belief that smoking
helped to loose weight.  And he sure turned my grandma into a compulsive
smoker, a habit she had kept till she died at eighty-nine.  Imagine she
smoked thirty cigarettes a day as a pregnant and not these light weight
ones.  In the twenties filter cigarettes hadn't been invented.  She even
smoked an after dinner cigar with my grandpa too, once she had taken it up
in earnest.  Can you imagine the picture of a woman in delivery puffing a
huge cigar?  And my dad sure was one healthy baby same as his younger
sisters.  I still have an old black and white photo of my grandma
breastfeeding my dad and smoking a cigarette while at it.  Well, sorry I
got carried away.'

   He now had Celime's attention too and we both kind of stared at him with
open mouths. 'All right.  Now only Celine really knows what she was on.'
Celine broke her silence and with her hoarse voice, proof of the abuse she
had done to her body, said; 'Doctor, I'm afraid I don't know much myself
any more.  Somewhere on the road down every thing blurred.  I don't
actually remember having taken shots, at least not regularly, but it may
well be I had one or two.  I just don't remember.  I know that I preferred
to inhale or swallow stuff.  It must have been a ton of weed but I'm afraid
crack was involved also and God knows what else.' she was quite breathless
after such a long speech, as she had hardly uttered a complete sentence
before. 'Well, it really doesn't matter that much.  You sure were lucky
this young man here found you and took it on him to save you.  You wouldn't
have last another month.  OK, back to the Nicotine stuff.  You see some of
the psychoactive drugs do act on the same receptors like Nicotine.  Also
the hormonal storm a Nicotine hit triggers is related to what some drugs do
to your system.  So, as unhealthy as smoking is, it can help you deal a bit
better with the withdrawal symptoms.  But I warn you, even thou Nicotine is
in a way a milder drug, it can be extremely addictive too, so you just sort
of trade in one for the other.' 'I don't mind that, Doctor.  I have started
smoking on my fourteenth birthday and long before I got into all this I was
a heavy smoker and never regretted it.  So I really have nothing to loose.
Even if I had been happily married with George here and never had gotten in
trouble, I would still be smoking a lot.' 'All right then.  Actually you're
in good company.' He saw our puzzled expressions. 'You see, even if it's
not widely known, a lot of people who successfully undergo a treatment for
alcoholism take up smoking to compensate the cravings for alcohol.  Some
institutes actually encourage this, even thou no one would openly admit it.
Of course if an alcoholic relapses and had learned to smoke as a means to
help him fight his problem, he then has two addictions and they even
complement each other.  But life is tough anyway, so, forget all this
stupid babbling of an old man.  Just one last advice, young lady.  If I
were you, I would try to smoke as little as possible during normal periods
and try and save your bodie's capacity to deal with Nicotine for the times
you really need it.  You may then even increase the Nicotine dose by
smoking some stronger brand or such.  I wish I could get you some pure
Nicotine base, but apart from gums and patches I know of no other source
for Nicotine except tobacco and those gums and patches are way too week to
help in your condition.  All right then, I'll leave you youngsters alone.'

   The idea was born that moment.  I would have to make some phone calls
but before I started I needed Paul's opinion. 'Doctor?  I mean Paul, how
soon do you think Celine can travel?' Paul guessed immediately what was on
my mind.  After all he knew both my parents since their childhood in our
little hometown in Maine. 'If she doesn't feel worse after another night,
she could cope with a longer car ride, provided you limit the driving
hours. It will mean you need several days if I am right as to what
destination you have in mind.  I wouldn't' advise a flight thou.' Celine,
who seemed much more vivid now, looked at me with big eyes.  She hadn't
dare hope I would go further with my help.  Little did she know me.  I was
set on saving her.  I knew of only one person who, apart from myself with
my own special motivation, had the right state of mind for such a heavy
task.  My mom.  I would have to ask her but I had no doubt of her answer. I
wasn't sure of my dad thou.  For all I knew, their income from the capital
left after he had sold the store and paid for my college, wasn't that big
so an additional expense wasn't exactly welcome.  Even if Celine wouldn't
need any medication, the cigarettes she would consume alone meant a strain
on their income.  But the same luck that had solved my dilemma after Celine
had left for college, giving my father the chance to retire and me to go to
college, sparing me the dreary existence and possible failure as a small
store owner, once again helped.  Although, it would be wrong to call it
luck.  It was just my father's instinct that even now, when all he had to
do was guarding his money, turned him into a much wealthier man than I had
thought him to be.  And that also solved another problem, one I had avoided
till then.

   When I called him up and explained him and mom what my problem was, he
laughed till he choked about my sorrow I would impose a too high financial
burden upon them. 'What a joke, son.  You should have called more often. 
You see, I had two stupid ideas when I suddenly wound up with a heap of
money to invest and assure your mom and me a reasonable income.  The first
one was a deliberate misunderstanding.  My agent told me to invest in fruit
copanies as they had a small but stable revenue.  OK, I thought, I love
apples.' It was my turn to laugh.  Of course!  He had bought shares of
Apple, the computer company.  Hopefully he had also sold them again in
time, I thought. 'Well, when I smelled that apples weren't on the rise any
more I looked for some smaller companies that were promising.  And a
company with micro in their name sure sounded little.  If the other part of
the name is soft, I thought of that male part.  Given the right conditions,
what is small and soft can turn big and hard.' Again I shook with laughter.
My good old dad.  'So you see, I can afford a lot more than just a little
young lady that needs help.  Just bring her over here.' Now I had to
address the second problem I had. 'There's on other problem I have.  You
see, I would need an unpaid leave to make the trip and I doubt my boss
would be very happy.' My father knew me well enough to read between the
lines. 'Why don't I hear any regret in your voice?  I didn't want to
interfere but I had my doubts if that kind of job would offer you the
carrier you dreamt of.  Tell you what.  Why don't you dump those Texans
altogether and stay with us till we find an occupation that really makes
you happy.  Forget about the money.  I'm your dad and for whom did I make
all that money in the first place?' 'Thanks dad.  You saved our lives. 
I'll keep you current when we are under way.' I called up my boss and he
wasn't exactly happy but he had seen it coming.  I promised to come and
settle my affairs later on.  The apartment I had rented in Austin also had
to be taken care of, but I had paid it three month in advance so I could
now concentrate fully on Celine. It showed that it would take a lot of care
till she would even remotely resemble her old self.  I hoped that at least
she had the will to become a normal human again.  She never sad it but I
could see in her eyes she still wavered and often enough would have reached
for any kind of drug if it were available.  As good as I could I tried to
limit her smoking during the times she felt good.  Thinking of Paul's words
I tried different brands of strong cigarettes.  Unfortunately I had to rule
out unfiltered ones that had appeared to be the sensible choice.  Alas,
when she needed them most, she munched them up as they lacked the filter
that could withstand a wilder treatment.  Reluctantly I went to a
tobacconist.  It was awkward as I of course I couldn't explain to him what
my purpose was.  After Celine threw up from a too strong black cigar during
one of her fits, I finally settled on a type of cheap machine made cigars
that were flavored like pipe tobacco.  These seemed to really do Celine
good, especially as they had a plastic mouth piece and she could byte on
them without fear ruining them.  I hid them during the day so she wouldn't
overdo it.  The only disadvantage of the Black&Milds was that they had a
rather unlucky resemblance with those blunt type cigars she had started her
drug career on.  I allowed her no more than one cigarette per hour, but as
soon as I turned my back on her she would reach for the pack and every time
I had to leave the hotel room I found upon returning a couple of butts in
the ashtray.  There were moments when I thought I talked to the real
Celine, my friend and lover from years ago, then again she was totally lost
in daydreams or locked in dark thoughts.

   I rented a car, a big old convertible, with a huge but quiet engine and
with a soft suspension that could make you seasick.  We were lucky as the
weather was fair all thru our ride and Celine could smoke without choking
us.  After a hearty breakfast we would ride a couple of miles, then make
long breaks wherever we could find a nice picnic area.  When she felt in
the mood we would talk.  When I saw she didn't feel well I sometimes gave
her an extra cigar as a treat.  In fact I enjoyed the mild spicy smell of
them and as Celine did recover both physically and mentally, my compassion
and care for her slowly allowed for some more intense feelings, but I never
allowed them to show.  Still, one night when I rocked her into her sleep
like always, she turned around and kissed me.  I felt her breasts that had
almost filed in again to their once wonderful pear shape and I could not
help but get aroused.  She felt it and before I realized what was going on
we made love.  It was awkward as I had to hold back and be as gentle as I
could.  Most of the wounds on her body had healed, but even thou it was she
who wanted it, she was quite dry, but every time I wanted to withdraw she
squeezed me, asking me to go on.  It ended in a rather joyless climax of
mine.  She had not given any sign of getting really aroused and I felt
guilty.

   I felt her by the shake of her shoulders she was crying. 'I'm so sorry,
my love.' she stammered between sobs.  'I really wanted it to work out.
'You shouldn't have done this.  I need no reward' Her sobs intensified 'But
you don't understand.  I wanted it for me, not for you.  I hoped it would
be like in the old times.  You were the only one who really could give me
satisfaction' I don't know if she heard my sigh or she had remembered the
same thing I did.  Her words of an hour-long drug induced orgasm with that
Diego character still rang in my ears. 'Oh I know what you think, but
believe me, I lied to you about what Diego had given me.  Yes, I had some
outstanding sexual excesses with him but it was his drugs mostly and it
felt so shallow and empty in a way.  In fact I used to masturbate sometimes
when I had smoked a bit too much of his weed and he wasn't there.  Those
were the only times I had even remotely felt what you had made feel and
only when I thought of you while...' Her voice trailed off and even thou I
couldn't be sure if she had told me the truth, the fact alone that she
tried to make up for how she had hurt me drove away my bitterness and I
hugged her tight.  I didn't hear no sobs from her but she still shook and
for fear of a new fit I reached for a cigar and gave it to her.  She turned
her back on me, not to choke me with the strong smoke.  Now that I had
began to see a woman in her again, her audible inhales and almost palpable
pleasure and satisfaction she gained from smoking, turned me on again.

   I tried to draw back a little not to embarrass her.  She had her own
problems to deal with.  Yet, as she had felt it and without turning around,
she reached for my erect organ and wriggled her still skinny backside till
she could direct my penis into her.  To my surprise I found her soaking
wet. Her climax came fast and high.  On and on I felt the spasms of her
inner muscles engulf my organ while she struggled to drag on her cigar.  It
didn't take me very long and I joined her on cloud nine.  I held her that
way for a while and between thirsty drags on her cigar she relaxed slowly.
Then she left it in the ashtray and exhaling a residue of smoke, she turned
around to me.  Her slow and sweet kiss tasted wonderfully spicy.

   'What was this?' she whispered.  'Will I need one of these every time I
want to make love?' 'And if?  I'd rather have you back like this, then not
at all' 'But doesn't it disturb you that I need to smoke to be ready for
you?' I had difficulties to clear my throat.  I had often had erotic dreams
of women doing all sorts of smoking while making love to me or during
foreplay.  Could it be that we had get to this point to wind up in the most
gratifying experience I could imagine?  No other woman had ever given me
such satisfaction as Celine.  To top this as she had just done was...  I
had no words for it.  As I hadn't answered at once, she mistook my silence
for disapproval.  A single tear made its way down her cheek. 'Oh, my dear
little Celine.  No I don't mind it at all.  I wouldn't mind if you needed
it every time, if there will be a next time.  If we were gifted with a
couple of years from now on, I could do with almost anything.' 'OK then,'
she sounded a bit unsure.  'I'll see I get rid of this as soon as I can,
but at least for now it helps.' 'Honey, I guess I must tell you a bit more.
You see it's not like I just tolerate that you need a cigar to make love to
me.  To tell you the truth I loved it that way.  Somehow it has been better
than anything I have ever felt.' 'No kidding?  Wow' She whirled her arms
around m neck and covered my face with little kisses. 'And it doesn't make
me smell bad?' She wanted to know, still doubtful. 'No, really not.  I love
it.' I don't know if it had something to do with it, but that night for the
first time her fits didn't return.  Maybe we just anticipated their
approach as she begged two more times for a cigar and inevitably we wound
up each time in a more satisfying embrace.

   The following day we had left the little motel as fast as we could.  We
were both in such good spirits, we decided to drive thru to reach my
parents house sooner.  Celine was almost her old self again and laughed and
chatted happily all the way.  Sometimes she would sleep with her head on my
shoulder then again she kissed me and caressed my crotch.  She didn't even
smoke very much, not the way she had before.  My parents had heard the car
and seen the headlights.  We embraced each other on the porch and exchanged
lots of kisses.  We hadn't seen each other for quote a while.  My mom took
Celine by the shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. 'My God, George,
you are a liar.  You said you'll bring home one sick woman and look at
this. Celine looks as healthy as ever.' 'That's because your son is the
best nurse on earth.' Celine replied with a shy smile. 'So then you two
pidgeons will want to share a room.  That sounds good.  You both deserve
each other.' Celine gave me a doubtful glance, but to reassure her I kissed
her hard on her mouth.

   Things went fine for a while.  I had to leave for a while to sort things
out in Austin.  When I came back, I found Celine in a rather funny mood. 
'Good or bad first?' A game we had played in our childhood, even thou it
was no game now. 'Bad' 'I had another fit last night.  The cigar helped but
I had hoped to need them only for our pleasure.  Maybe all I need is a
combined therapy, but for that I need you.' she grinned.  So it hadn't been
all that bad. 'But I have a suspicion of what triggered it and that's the
good news.  I'm not even sure if I haven't confused the cramps for
something else.' What on earth was she talking about?  What other reason
for cramps...?  Then I realized it.  The best sign she was really
recovering, I hoped.  I smiled happily and she saw I had figured it out.
'Yes, I have my cycle again.  The first time in over two years.  I even
went to a gynecologist this morning.  He said I can have kids and he
doesn't think there are risks because of my drug record.  I have even
escaped AIDS by miracle.' Then a little cloud descended on her face.  'Of
course if you can get aquainted with the idea to marry an ex junkie. I
hurried to squeeze her into my arms. 'Dear wonderful Celine!  Do you think
I will ever let you go again?  We can take the next plane to Vegas and get
married on the spot if that's what troubles you.' My mother interfered now.
'Hey, hey, hey, easy now.  There's no hurry.  You can wait till next week.
Father Mulcahany will be glad to celebrate a wedding.  He loves weddings
but with all the old folks around here doesn't get too many occasions.' So
everything seemed to work out way better than any of us had hoped.  I had
one little shock, when after a ride up town I found Celine smoking what
looked exactly like those drug stuffed blunts two years before.  But as I
approached her I could tell it smelled just like fine tobacco.  Relieved I
kissed her right on her juicy mouth and savored the rich taste of tar.  It
had been my father who had given her the cigar, a real Cuban one he had
gotten from the man who did our lawn and occasionally sold smuggled Cuban
cigars. 'Well?' she said cocking her head 'How did you like the taste?' 'I
could get used to it.' 'I'll talk to daddy to get more of these.  Thank you
so much, dearest.' 'Just promise me not to overdo it' 'Yes massa.' We
laughed happily oblivious of the dark clouds that gathered in a distance.

   I sat on the marble bench beside the grave and wept a little.  Why so
soon?  I kept asking myself.  If she could only have seen the baby! 
Finally I dried my tears and took out a cigarette. 'You really shouldn't
smoke that much!' two warm motherly arms embraced me from behind.  'Look
who's talking' Celine, who's belly showed quite well now as she was five
month under way, jumped up my lap and kissed me passionately. 'Yeah, but
you know how it is.  I still need it and we talked it all out.  It would
have harmed the baby too if the fits would have returned and you know what
happened the day I heard I'm pregnant and tried not to smoke all day.' I
returned her kiss.  We had talked it out and decided to take the chance. 
My freelancing had finally taken momentum and I earned quite a lot without
having to leave home, so I could assist her in any way.  The doctor,
another old friend of my father, had more or less confirmed Paul's words
and he too believed it was better for Celine to keep on smoking even if he
advised her to keep it as low as she could.  The odds were very good the
child would not suffer from it.  If not, well, we would take the risk.

   'Yes my love, I know.  Kismet.' I saw the melancholy in her eyes.  She
sometimes felt guilty of what she had done, but I kept telling her that
maybe it had been a lesson she had to learn.  What if she had years ago
decided to stay with me in the first place?  She might have kept regretting
it, feeling she had swapped one prison for another.  Admittedly, I had a
secret reason to be satisfied with the way things had developed.  I had
realized it made no sense to deny my true feelings.  Her smoking turned me
on like nothing else could.  So as I knew no campaign against smoking could
make her quit now, what more could I hope for?  I knew it was selfish of
me, but it was none of my fault. 'I only wish mom could have been here.'
she said with tears on her voice.  I rocked her a while, unable to speak as
the pain gripped my throat.  I was thankful that my father had taken it so
well.  He had explained that for years they had both known it will happen
one day as my mom had suffered from an aneurysm, a week blood vessel
somewhere in her brain where it was impossible to operate.  They had
accepted it and had tried to enjoy every day like it was their last one. 
Now I understood better why they had been so close. Celine took out a pack
of Reds and lit a cigarette.  I joined in with my Lights. 'Still not
prepared to try the real ones?' she teased and gave me another juicy kiss.
I traced the residues of one of her little Cohibas I knew she smoked behind
my back.  I would have to tell her not to hide her Cohibas any more as I
knew it anyway and in bed...

   The End