I was around 14 and she had driven us out to the lake so we could watch the lunar eclipse over the water. We’d been laying on our backs, the water lapping at our feet, when she pulled a pack from her pocket and took out a cigarette. Placing the filter between her lips she flicked a 75 cent purple lighter purchased as we filled the gas tank. Her breasts rose and fell with each drag. I’m pretty sure that had been the moment of my first erection, watching her smoke in the moonlight… Since that day I have been bugging her to let me try one but the answer was always the same, wait until you’re 18. Well today, I’m 18.
I pulled one out and held it in my lips as I’ve always watched her do and struck the lighter with my thumb. Touching flame to tip I inhaled….I doubled over the edge of the bed, holding the cigarette far away until mom snatched it from my hand. I swear I heard her giggling as I coughed and hacked away.
“How do you do it?” I asked holding a hand to my burning chest.
“I’d been seeing this really hot-looking guy, around the halls. I really wanted to meet him, but it seemed like he was always with this mixed group of guys and girls, and I didn’t want to barge in, just to introduce myself. I mean, what if he was with one of the girls, in the group? I’d have been so freaking embarrassed!”
“So, one day, I saw him – standing by himself, smoking – out back of the gym. This was my perfect chance to meet him, but I drew a blank on what to say, to break the ice. I got desperate, and finally saw that he was standing right next to this big “No Smoking” sign. So I walked over and threatened to report him, for smoking there. He asked me if there was anything he could do, to keep me from squealing to the principal on him.” She paused, to take a drag from her Marlboro, leaving me hanging! How dare she?
“And you told him…?” I prompted her.
Mom smiled at me and ruffled my hair.
“I looked him in the eye and, with my sweetest ‘cute girl’ expression, I pointed at his cigarette, and said, ‘Teach me?'”
“Your dad laughed his head off, and started to pull a pack of Marlboro out of his jacket pocket, but just then the end-of-lunch bell rang.” ‘Do you ride the bus?’ he asked me, and I told him I did. Then he asked where I lived, and I told him that. Then he asked what time I had to be home, and I told him 4:45, since nobody else would be home at my house before 5:15, at the earliest. I figured that, since school let out at 3:30 that would give us plenty of time. “Your dad nodded at me, took the last drag from his cigarette, and stomped on the butt. Then he looked at me, touched my chin with his one index finger, and said, ‘Meet me here, after school, and I’ll teach you.'” ‘What about my bus?’ I asked him. ‘I’ve got a car,’ he said. ‘I’ll drive you home.’ ”
“Okay,” I snorted. “That clears up how you and Dad met. It doesn’t say how he taught you to smoke.”
“Oh – that!” she chuckled. “He kissed me.”
“That’s it? He kissed you? I don’t see how that taught you how to smoke…”
“Then I guess you’ll have to stay tuned, for part two, kiddo!” she laughed, ruffling my hair again.