Skipping Stones

Chapter 7

"I used to smoke." Jameson's fingers danced in the sand between them, distracting himself like Liam did. "A lot, actually. About half a pack a day, sometimes a full pack if I was feeling stressed."

"You quit?"

"A little over a year."

"Congrats." Jameson let out a little chuckle at that, and another seeing the faintest of frown lines appear above Liam's shades. "Why is that funny?"

Shaking his head, Jameson turned to Liam. "Everyone tells you that, congrats for being sober, congrats for staying away from things you should've never touched, to begin with. It's sad, really, more than anything. Pretty pathetic that I couldn't stay away from something that could've led me in the same spot as my mother. Dying of cancer and all that."

Liam's head tilted toward him ever so slightly, his left eye just barely visible to Jameson as those oversized shades covered half his face. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Smoking is that one regret, I guess. You said we all live with them, and this is mine."

"Quitting takes a lot of courage, though. That's the important thing you learned from that experience, and you're putting your health first."

"I guess so," Jameson muttered out.

"And a whole year is impressive, especially with how dependent you seemed to be on them."

Jameson hummed, the thoughts and internalized fears he's buried, even hidden from his therapist for quite some time; he wondered what the nearly-blind man would say. Would it be as crazy as Jameson had made himself believe?

And like clockwork, the silence they sat in was more comforting than Jameson thought possible. With a sigh, he stopped tracing mindless patterns in the sand and looked toward Liam. "Is it weird that I feel like I caused this—with what happened to my mother?"

"You feel guilty that she had cancer?" There was a tone Jameson hadn't heard from Liam, a sense of disbelief, confusion, one that utterly terrified Jameson. Was it as weird as it sounded? Was it that crazy?

Jameson could only hum in agreement, his knees bouncing as his heart raced. With a gulp, he said meekly, "it was lung cancer. They suspected it was from second-hand smoke."

"Well—"

"If I just quit this sooner, right? Hadn't smoked around her, or in the car, or—I don't know. I shouldn't have ever picked those cancer sticks up in the first place. Maybe wash my hands more or...you know" Jameson's voice faltered as his frustrations raised. Despite his apprehension that it would startle Liam, Liam seemed to understand, simply sat still, his fingers tracing the mountain range in the sand as Jameson poured his heart out. "Maybe she'd still be here."

"Cancer is a tricky thing, though. Most diseases are," Liam said calmly as if he had recited this before. "But the truth is, it's totally out of our control. Whether you smoked less, never smoked at all, she still could've had it. There are too many factors to dictate whether one cigarette had any significant impact. Whether any little action had any impact. It isn't your fault."

Jameson could feel his eyes burning, the last memories of his mother hadn't ended on a positive note, and he'd do anything to redo or have another minute with her. From his arguments over that ragged old cigarette box in his glove box to their arguments about taking over his father's construction business, Jameson wished he had been kinder. It had been their last family dinner, and now Jameson wasn't sure if he was even welcome anymore now that she was gone.

"Listen, blaming yourself, or blaming others like in my case, it's futile. It only perpetuates more hate, guilt, and regret. Don't do that to yourself. If your mother was here, I'm sure she'd tell you the same thing. She'd be just as, if not more, proud of you than I am about quitting." Liam had turned to face the jogger, his dark shades obscuring his eyes from him. "Besides, some things are just out of our control. But moving past it, accepting things for what they are, that is something we can control. And I think you're doing a fantastic job so far."

"I could say the same thing about you," Jameson fired back. "Becoming blind is way harder than trying to put down a pack of cigarettes."

"Well, that's subjective. Overcoming addiction is a difficult process too. Don't minimize your efforts."

Jameson chuffed, his cheeks feeling flush from the flattery. "Well, for what it's worth, you're also doing a fantastic job, Liam. You're handling this way better than I would. Better than what most people would."

Almost squirming from the praise, Liam pushed the bridge of the shades closer to his face, wishing it could also hide the blush on his face. In response, Jameson smirked, telling him, "you know, you don't need your shades around me."

"I know, but I've been adjusting to them," he insisted, readjusting how they sat on his face. "I need to get used to having it. Besides, the colors of my eyes are fading, and I bet they look awful."

Jameson reached over with an upturned smile, his hands gripping either side of the frames, slowly peeling it off his face. "They look fine; beautiful, even."

"They're hideous."

"No," Jameson insisted, setting the pair of shades down in the sand between them. "They're beautiful."

"No, they aren't."

Liam reached for his glasses between them, but Jameson beat him to it, holding onto it out of reach. "To me, they are."

"You're lying."

"Am not," Jameson joked, poking the stone-skipper's forehead. "You see the beauty of the mountains in this spot, and I see it in your eyes. You can argue with me all day if you'd like, but I'm being honest."

Rolling his eyes, Liam grabbed the glasses out of Jameson's hands. "Whatever, we can agree to disagree again. They're ugly, and they're only going to get worse once my vision is completely gone."

"Unique then," Jameson conceded. "Unique like you."

His face scrunched up. "I'm rather ordinary, thank you."

"Alright, fine." Jameson gave up. "But let's say you were ordinary, normal vision, no eye condition; what would you do to be unordinary?"

"If I didn't have this condition?" Liam pondered, his fingers tracing the sand absentmindedly. "Huh, I never thought about that."

"No dreams, goals, ambitions you've had? What about careers?"

Liam took a few silent moments to think about it. "I guess I'd go back to school. Something to do with science, maybe even a biochemist. Or one that studies genetics. Probably research about these kinds of diseases, maybe even cancers."

"You were in school before? College?"

"I did some undergraduate work at the community college in the next town over. I dropped out after the diagnosis."

"Studying science?" Jameson turned to the younger lad.

Liam shook his head. "I was undecided. I knew my parents didn't want me to go, knowing that my vision was already bad, but I just wanted that experience. Once the doctors gave us the news, they immediately pulled me."

"I'm sure you could still do it. Go to college, get a degree, and everything. I've heard about this one lady who was deaf and blind who got her degree."

Liam smiled, almost amused at Jameson's response. "It's not for me. Besides, it would take a lot of money, probably extra classes, and a lot of time just for some fancy paper. Even walking across the street will be difficult, let alone trying to work in labs or tests where sight is everything."

"Well, regardless if you go to school or not, you're extraordinary, Liam. Whatever you plan on doing, I'm sure you'll do amazing things."

"Kinda hard when you're blind."

Jameson grinned. "Kinda hard when you doubt yourself like this."

"Touché."