Isabel & Leo - Short Stories

Pillars of Smoke

Smoking disgusts me. If Leo had been a smoker when we first met, I would have undoubtedly dismissed his charms. I can't breathe around smokers – I'm not exaggerating. Smoke affects my lungs the way the lack of water affects fish. I need air to breathe, preferably the clean kind, so when smoke pollutes the air, my body reacts with coughing fits, choking sensations, watery eyes, the whole works.

So as my daughter's birthday party winds down, and I watch Leo smoke a cigarette with his best friend, Jacob, in the backyard, I feel like gagging.

"Mom, why is Daddy smoking?" Lia asks as she scoots onto a kitchen stool next to mine. Her plate cradles the last few pieces of her ice-cream cake. She pushes the plate between us and spoons up the last bits of vanilla, avoiding the Oreo crunch middle section.

"Because he wants to." I shrug and place the last spoonful of Oreo crunch in my mouth.

"But you always tell us that smoking is bad for your health."

"It is bad for your health. Daddy will tell you that too."

"So why does he smoke?"

"Because it relaxes him. He's under a lot of stress at work. Besides, he only smokes when Jacob is around."

"I hate when Daddy smokes. His clothes smell terrible."

"Yeah? You should tell him that. Maybe it will get him to stop. Lord knows nothing I say has helped." I raise my eyebrows at Lia. She mimics my expression.

Then, with her finger pointed straight up to the ceiling and a wide-eyed smile on her face, she says, "I have an idea."

Lia runs up to her room. I have just thrown away the remnants of the melted birthday cake when she comes running back down with a sweater on and opens the patio door. "Mom, watch this." With her arms swinging and back straight, she walks towards Leo and Jacob. They immediately tuck their smoking cigarettes behind their backs.

I roll my eyes and shake my head—give Lia a bit of credit, guys.

"What are you doing?" Lia asks, crunching dried-up leaves with each step. She begins to cough and her hand waves in front of her as if swooshing away air. Then, as if someone flipped the 'off' switch, she closes her eyes and falls limply onto the leaf-covered grass.

Leo shouts her name. I gasp and rush out the door before my mind can concoct possible worst-case scenarios. Leo's face is as worried as I've ever seen it. He rolls Lia onto her back and nudges her to wake up. Her eyes pop open, and she blinks twice.

"Are you okay?" Leo and I both whisper. Jacob stomps out the cigarettes and takes off his jacket to cover Lia from the fall winds.

With a grunt, she sits up and says, "I smelled smoke and then I just . . . I . . . got dizzy."

She lowers her eyes to the ground and glances back up, a guilty look sneaking into her eyes. I suck in a long, deep breath, and with tight lips I ask, "Lia Elizabeth, did you just pretend to faint?"

"What? Why would she do that?" Leo asks, and Lia lowers her eyes once more and swallows hard. She begins sniffling. "Honey?" Leo asks her as he caresses her cheek.

"I want you to stop smoking," she says with a crack in her voice.

Pursing his lips, Leo stands up and glares down at me. "Did you put her up to this?"

I stand up, bringing Lia up with me. "Of course not. She came up with this all by herself. Your daughter is trying to tell you something."

"Maybe you're using her to tell me something."

"Mommy's not doing anything. Why can't you stop smoking? Jaime's grandfather had lung cancer from smoking too much. He's dead now. Patricia's grandmother has cancer too. I don't want you to get sick and die, Daddy." She buries her head in my chest and sobs. "I don't want you to die."

"Oh, Lia." Leo pulls Lia from my arms and embraces her, whispering promises of quitting. After she regains her composure, he kisses her forehead and sighs as he watches her walk back to the kitchen.

"Don't make promises you won't keep," I say, crossing my arms. Jacob can't look away quick enough when I shoot him a glare. He clears his throat and walks back inside, leaving Leo and me alone in the crisp fall evening. But even the cool breeze can't stifle the smoke emanating from Leo's clothes. I take a step away and wave my hand in front of me to clear the air.

Once the patio door closes, Leo says in a beaten tone, "It relaxes me, Isabel. I could take a shot of whiskey to shake off the stress, but I prefer a cigarette."

"You could try exercising, or Jiu-Jitsu, like Erik. You used to wrestle in high school, right? Erik swears by it. Says it's the best stress relief he's had in years."

"I don't have time for Jiu-Jitsu."

"But you have time to smoke."

He rolls his eyes at me. "I don't smoke much."

"How much have you been smoking lately?"

"A pack will last me a month, maybe more."

I nod, trusting he's not trying to lie to me the way he's been unsuccessfully lying to the kids.

Wrinkling his forehead, Leo asks, "Didn't Jaime's grandfather die in a car accident in Toronto?"

A snort escapes me. "Yeah. He was ninety-seven. Lived a full life."

"Damn, she's clever."

With his lips pursed, Leo stares at the grass and crunches the dried leaves, creating a soft crackling sound that echoes in the quiet of the night. He takes the pack of cigarettes out of his jacket and tosses them into the garbage can.

"Jiu-jitsu it is."