Skipping Stones

by J. B. McGee

  I gasp as I cover my heart to try to keep it in my chest. “It’s...it’s absolutely incredible.”

  “Hey,” he whispers, “look at me.”

  I turn and I’m captured by beautiful, milk chocolate eyes. “Yeah?”

  “We’ve had so many firsts here, so many memories.”

  I nod.

  “I want this one.” Stepping into the grass, he kisses me once more. “I love you, Alex. I dreamed about being able to spend the rest of my life with you, but I thought it was just that: a dream.”

  “I know. Me, too.” I pause because it’s still painful to remember the time I spent wondering if he was real. “I thought I was losing my mind. I really wondered if I had just made you up in my mind.”

  He shakes his head. “I’m very real. I’ve always been. I’m never leaving you. I promise.”

  I smile because I know he means it.

  “And one day, we’ll bring our babies and grandbabies here. We’ll tell them everything worth having in our life happened because two people fell in love...right here.”

  He puts me down as he opens the netting and takes my hand, leading me to the bed. Soft music is playing in the background. He pulls me into his arms and starts to dance. “These are our songs, this is The Promise.”

  He nods. “On repeat.”

  I close my eyes and commit this scene to my memory. One day, I’ll make a drawing of it and hang it in our room with the other photos from today. “Thank you for making this so special.”

  He nuzzles my neck, nibbling on my ear. Coherent thoughts begin to leave my mind. His voice is husky. He breathes into my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt on my skin. “The day I carried you home, after you passed out...”

  I freeze, not sure why he’s bringing this up right now. “What about it?”

  He continues to plant sweet, tender kisses everywhere but my mouth. “I told Memaw and Papa that you were special.”

  “Huh.”

  “Alex, you’re my everything. You make me feel so alive. It’s easy to make something special when the one you’re with is so rare, so wonderful.” He begins to unzip my dress. I remember when I felt like my insides were being torn apart with a seam ripper. Tonight, I feel like with each notch that is undone, I am a step closer to finally being able to share everything with him. It’s like it ignites a fire within me. He leans in and I can feel his breath on my ear. “Do you remember when I said I wanted to teach you everything after we first met?”

  I nod because I’m not sure I can form words. Bricks, good bricks, are weighing heavily on my chest. I’m breathless, like I’ve been swimming against the current, but it’s because of my need for him this time. “Yes,” I whisper.

  “I’m ready to teach you everything I know, Alex. Everything. Are you ready?” His eyes sparkle against the light.

  “Stone, you don’t have to ask. I’m yours. All of me. For the rest of our lives. And I can’t wait for you to you to teach me something so special. Something so sacred that no one has ever taught me before.”

  He huskily whispers into my ear, “Oh, and I promise that you’ve not seen special yet.”

  Sitting in our special spot in the field, Stone and I are watching our little girl trying to skip stones. I reach down and pick a flower. They aren’t wild flowers anymore. That’s because a few months after I found out I was pregnant with Helena, I came in from work and Stone handed me a set of keys. I thought he’d bought me a car or something, but that wasn’t the case. The next thing he gave to me was a shovel. I admit I was completely perplexed at this point. I don’t know what it is with him and little scavenger hunts, but I do love them and so far they have always led to the most incredible things.

  Before I could ask what any of these things meant, he took a silk scarf from his pockets and blindfolded my eyes. Then he grabbed my hand and led me on a walk. He lead the way, telling me where to step and where to avoid. I had a feeling we were headed to the creek, but I had no idea why I needed a shovel and keys. I spent the entire way there trying to figure it out, different scenarios playing in my mind. I could have never been prepared for what he was about to tell me, that he’d purchased the field and the creek. It was, is, now ours.

  The shovel was for me to break ground on our new home, the place we’d raise our children, grow old together. Tears on an ordinary day would have had any problems freely flowing, but I prefer to blame my exaggerated expression on the walking ticking hormonal time bomb I had become, only needing the smallest of triggers to release enough tears to quickly fill buckets.

  So, months later we brought our first baby home to our new house. There would be no doubt that our children would know about our spot, about how we fell in love. In fact, we made sure to preserve our place in the field. It has an abundance of flowers to be picked at all times. So, I reach down and pluck one and bring it to my nose. These aren’t wild flowers, they’re hand planted by Stone. He loves working outside to preserve and maintain our yard as a beautiful, calming oasis.

  Helena is throwing rocks into the water. I recognize her stance, the way she positions her fingers before hurling it haphazardly into the creek. How she can be his child and still not be able to skip stones blows my mind, but only for a moment. I can’t help but grin as I glance over and the look on his face. She’s her mother’s daughter. Stone is watching her every move, studying her. He pops up, and I have a pretty good feeling that it’s paining him because she’s yet to be able to do this, to skip stones.

  I laugh as he walks towards her, “She’s only four, ya know?”

  He turns on his heel and comes back to me, leaning down and planting a kiss on my lips, silencing me. “Have I mentioned today that I love you...for giving me a little girl to teach how to do this all over again?”

  I shake my head. “Not today.”

  His hand rests on my round belly. “And this one needs to be a boy.”

  “And if it isn’t?”

  He scrunches his nose and then bobs his head from left to right, as if weighing the options. “I’ll be happy with a healthy baby boy or girl. I just prefer a boy.”

  I smile because I already know it’s a boy, but he doesn’t. I had thought about telling him by doing one of the cute crafts I’d seen on Pinterest. Maybe having Helena wearing a shirt that says, I’m HIS Big Sister or something like that, but the waiting and anticipation have been eating at me. We’ve never been good at keeping secrets with each other, not even the good ones. The only secret I think Stone has ever kept from me was the one about his past, but that ultimately wasn’t really a choice. It was a necessity. Wanting to not think about that anymore, I ask, “Why a boy?”

  He shrugs. “One of each. A mini-you and a mini-me.”

  I see Helena getting a little too close to the water. “Baby, you know you aren’t supposed to be that close. Come back some.”

  Stone reinforces my instructions to her, “Helena, come back and help me pick out some pebbles.” Once he’s looking back into my eyes his words give me goosebumps despite the summer heat. “Because I want to teach a boy everything I know.” He starts to trail kisses down my neck, then places one, long one on my stomach. I glance over his head, never taking my eyes off of our beautiful girl.

  I whisper, “Everything you know, huh? I remember when you said that to me, and there were other implications with that statement.”

  His beautiful brown eyes catch mine, he’s suddenly so serious. “I want him to know how to treat a girl, a woman. How to be a good man.”

  I run my fingers through his hair, “I think you’ll teach him those things without even trying because you’re a leader, Stone. He’ll watch you and he’ll follow in your footsteps. All of them. You’re honorable, good, compassionate, and kind.” I kiss his forehead. “You’ve always been...so easy to love. I think that’s because you give so freely and easily.”

  He freezes and I see him swallow. “Did you just call our little angel baby a ‘he’?”

  I nod, unable to contain my elation and
laughter. “Uh huh.”

  “How?” he asks as he furrows his brows, confused.

  “They weren’t supposed to be able to see it until the next ultrasound, but he showed his parts at the last one.” Worry sets in that he may actually be upset with me that he wasn’t there to find out. I remind him. “You weren’t able to come to that one because Helena was sick that week, remember? Are you mad at me that you weren’t there?”

  He caresses my cheek, and rubs my nose with his. “Not mad. How could I be upset with you. I love you so much. You’ve given me everything I didn’t know was possible, Alex. You’ve given me the world.” He closes his eyes for a second. “I said I’d teach you everything I know, but I had no idea how much you’d teach me.”

  I peek up and glance at Helena, twirling around in her little tutu. She’s one half tomboy and one half princess. “Don’t you miss the days of it just being us and being able to just let loose during these moments, no cares or worries in the world?” I ask.

  He pulls me into him, nibbling my ear lobe. “I do.”

  “You’re distracting.” I push him back as I laugh. “You’re making it really hard to make sure our little girl doesn’t get into trouble, you know?”

  He kisses my forehead. “Yeah.” He points to his chest. “Me.” Then to mine. “You. Later.” Those dreamy eyes make me melt every time. “Still working on teaching you everything I know.” He winks.

  I giggle. “You promise?”

  It’s funny because he said that we’d have a mini-me and a mini-him, but I think it’s reversed. Helena is a spitting image of her Daddy. The biggest, most beautiful chocolate eyes. Her hair is the same shade of dark brown, and her complexion is beautiful like my mother’s always was...before the accident. The accident. All of these years later it’s still so hard to think about. I’ve heard good comes with every bad situation. I look at the beautiful human beings standing in front of me, and I know that they are my good.

  Stone backs up and scoops his little mini-me into his arms and starts to tickle her as he grabs a rock and begins walking towards the water. “Daddy is gonna teach you how to skip stones, teach you everything he knows, Helena. I promise.” He looks back over his shoulder. “And Mommy – tell her. I don’t break my promises, do I?”

  I push myself off of the ground, slowly getting up, and follow them. “Nope, Daddy doesn’t break promises. And he’s the best teacher on skipping stones that I’ve ever met...he taught me.”

  To my readers. Thank you for your unwavering support. When I said I was changing it up with this book, you said bring it. When I was discouraged about the course of this book, you were posting and tagging me in messages that said, “That author whose book you’ll read without reading the back of the book first.” It’s because of your faith in me that I was able to hold my head high and take a leap of faith. Sometimes the right thing to do isn’t always the popular thing. So regardless of the success of this book, I have written something from the heart...for me and for you. Please leave me your honest review. I read them all, I cherish them all. I learn from them all. Thank you again from the very bottom of my joy-filled heart for everything you’ve done for me.

  Theater: This is the place where acts of war are occuring. Afghanistan is the theater in this book. Also known as the area of operation, or combat zone.

  Forward Surgical Team: When a soldier is injured that isn’t stable enough to go to a hospital, they are transported by helicopter to this small team that is located close to the front lines. Think the “Golden Hour”. After patients are stabilized, they are able to be packaged (see below) and transported to an upper level echelon.

  Packaging: Preparing a patient for transport to another place.

  Echelon: Levels of medical care.

  Litter: This is like a stretcher without wheels. Think of a cot that is carried by four people. Two at the head, two at the bottom.

  Battle Buddy: This is like a soldier’s partner. Often is a soldier in the causality’s unit. This person would stay with an injured soldier and help give information on his identity, the incidence that led to the injuries, and comfort the injured. The relationship that you can compare the closeness that these two people experience is the love between a parent and a child.

  Trauma Card or SOF MIST Casualty Treatment Card : MIST stands for Mechanism, Injuries, Symptoms, Treatment. This is like a report card on the patient. It tells what the doctor did to treat the patient. What the injuries are. Medicines and treatments administered along with their times would be documented on the trauma card. It is done right before the patient is transferred.

  Mortar: A projectile explosive weapon used in acts of war.

  ROTC: Reserve Officer Training Course

  *Trauma causalities are numbered as they are treated. T610 in chapter 20 refers to the 610th American or coalition trauma victim treated up to this point in time.

  J.B. McGee was born and raised in Aiken, South Carolina. After graduating from South Aiken High School, she toured Europe as a member of the 1999 International Bands of America Tour, playing the clarinet. While attending Converse College, an all-girls school in Spartanburg, South Carolina, she visited Charleston often. It quickly became one of her favorite vacation spots. She met her husband, Chad, during Christmas break her freshman year, and they married in 2001. They moved back to her hometown. In 2005, the couple welcomed their first son, Noah. J.B. finished her Bachelor of Arts degree in Early Childhood Education at the University of South Carolina-Aiken in 2006. During her time studying children's literature, a professor had encouraged her to become a writer.

  In 2007, she welcomed their second child, Jonah, and she became a stay at home mom/entrepreneur. In 2009, they found out their two children and J.B. have Mitochondrial Disease. In 2011, a diagnosis also was given to Chad. Please take a moment and learn more about Mitochondrial Disease. Awareness is key to this disease that has no cure or treatments.

  J.B. McGee and her family now reside in Buford, Georgia, to be closer to their children's medical team. After a passion for reading had been re-ignited, J.B. decided to finally give writing a shot. She is the best-selling author of the This Series. Skipping Stones is her first stand-alone novel.

  Please follow J.B. on Twitter and Facebook to stay up to date on the latest teasers, giveaways, and new releases.

  Broken (This #1) - Now Available

  Mending (This #2) - Now Available

  Conspiring (This #2.5) - Now Available

  Forgiven (This #3) - Now Available

  Falling (This #4) - Coming in 2014

  Trying (This #5) - Coming in 2014

  Blinded (This #6) - Coming in 2014

  50 Ways to Market YOUR Online Business - Now Available

  Nitro vs. Niko (A children’s story co-authored with McGee’s two sons, ages 6 and 8) - Awaiting Publication

  Breathe and Count to Three (A children’s story) - Awaiting Publication

  *Points to the sky* I have to thank God, as cliché as it sounds. All good things abound from him. I am thankful for the talents He has given me. I am thankful for the voice He has given me to raise awareness about Mitochondrial Disease, and to be able to share my testimony with others. Thankful for the drive to know that if you try hard enough, that if you believe in yourself, have faith in the things you can’t see, and use His strength to carry you through the darkness, there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. You can do anything you want.

  To my husband, Chad. The last year has been a whirlwind. Everything happens for a reason and sometimes when you’re in that tunnel, it is especially hard to understand how you got there, or how you will get out and still be whole. I know that great things are yet to come for us. I know that this book writing venture scares you on multiple levels, primarily because you know that it makes me sick. Thank you for everything you’ve done to try to help keep me well. Your excitement about this book makes this book even more special than it already is to me. I’m so glad we get to share this life together. I know you’re
not perfect, but lately you have been pretty darn close. Cooking, cleaning, watching our children, preparing and serving meals to me. I don’t think I could write a book boyfriend as good as you and actually have people believe me.

  To Noah and Jonah. You will experience excruciating loss in your lives. May you always know that it’s during those times that you are carried. You will never be given something that is too much for your heart to bear. Everything that doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. You may not know why it happens, but God promises to make everything for the good of His glory and His kingdom for those who love Him. And He doesn’t break promises. Ever. Everything I do is to make your life better, and I hope I have made you proud.

  To my Dad. Thank you for your constant support, for selling books to your friends, and for keeping our medically complex children so I can go meet new fans. Without you, I wouldn’t have had two of the best grandparents a girl could ask for. Releasing this book on your birthday seemed like the best gift I could possibly give to you. It will forever be available to the world. Your parents’ legacy will live on forever, not just in our hearts, but now in the hearts of so many more people.

  To Matt Rivers. We don’t get to talk as much as we used to. We miss you and your family. When I first started writing this book, I hoped you’d be able to help. I was a little nervous about explaining this romance plot to a real life soldier, but I shouldn’t have been. I should have known that you’d support me, because you’ve always supported your friends. You are a good friend. Thank you for your notes. Thank you for leading me to others who could help on things you didn’t know. Simply put, this book wouldn’t be accurate if not for you and your buddies.

  To Jeremy Garland. You spent a long time with me. For free. Selflessly. I guess that’s why you are who you are. A soldier and a nurse. Two of the most selfless professions I can think of. Thank you for your track changes to my manuscript. Some made me laugh, some made me want to pat myself on the back. Your late night texts to tell me that you couldn’t put this book down made me do fist pumps and happy dances. I learned a lot from you that will stay with me for the rest of my life. There is no doubt that this book is better because of you. In fact, in a way, you own part of this plot. For that, I will forever be grateful. An acknowledgement in the back of the book will never be enough for your service to our country, and for being a new friend.