Leap of Faith (La Flor #1)

by Ml Rodriguez

  He finally stops and looks at me. He sees me calm and collected. I don’t know how, but I know everything is going to be okay, so I’m not worried. I just want him to listen to me. He closes his eyes, counts to ten, and then opens them and waits for me to say something.

  I calmly start talking to him.

  “My birthday is in one month, and I’ll be eighteen. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d turn away from me, no matter the feelings between us. You would’ve shut the door on our relationship—we never would’ve started. You thought I was older and I let you. I may be seventeen, but I don’t act like it. I know what I want to do with my life and I have plans. Meeting you has changed some of those plans, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I pause to take a breath and continue. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not telling you, but I’m not sorry we started us. I love you and I know you love me. What we have is true and I’m willing to stand with you. And, I love your daughter, Jake. I know the two of you come together as a deal. I’m willing to brave my father’s wrath, my family to be with you. Is that not telling you enough?”

  He looks at me for a long while.

  “I love you too, Faith. I’ve fallen for you hard. You’re here for me and for Rylee—you show us you care, and that means the world us.” He takes me into his arms. “When I first saw you, you captivated me. You looked like one of Rylee’s Disney princesses—so beautiful, so untouchable. When you came to me and claimed me, you blew my fuckin’ mind out of the water because I never thought I had a chance with you. This beautiful creature wants to be mine, I thought to myself. I’m one lucky bastard.”

  A few days later, I returned to school to finish my last semester of college. We kept in touch through Facebook and Skype at every opportunity. The distance was hard. His schedule was crazy busy and mine wasn’t any better, but somehow we made it work.

  I flew back to my parents’ home for spring break. I was finally eighteen. Jake told me he was going to speak to my father and there was nothing I could say to stop him. He hated having to hide our relationship, with only Julia, my best friend and roommate, knowing.

  The day Jake decided to speak with my father, I was a nervous wreck. My father was going to explode. We hadn’t done anything wrong—all we did was get to know each other. However, my father wasn’t going to care about that. All he would see would be Jake, a single father and one of his soldiers, a person who would constantly have to put his life on the line to protect our country. A person like my father, always gone and in danger, the kind of person my father never wanted me to marry. The military is a hard life; you’re constantly moving, you go months without seeing each other, and it’s stressful and sometimes lonely.

  My father always said I’d graduate college, accomplish my dreams, and marry an ordinary man when I turned thirty. Ha, there was no way the last one would happen now. Daddy was going to Flip. The. Freak. Out.

  When he got Jake’s call requesting a meeting, my father was under the impression Jake needed to speak with him about work. He didn’t have a clue about our feelings for each other. He was going to be blindsided.

  Jake finally arrived to my parents’ home and greeted my mother. Then, he bravely walked into my father’s office. The door closed and moments later, we could clearly hear my father through the door.

  Spring Break 2001

  “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME, LIEUTENANT?! Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” he yells. “Do you seriously expect me to give you my blessin’ to date my daughter? MY BABY GIRL. You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think I will. She’s barely eighteen years old and you’re a twenty-three year old single father! She has her whole life ahead of her and you expect me to allow her to be with you. I’ll fuckin’ ruin your career if you don’t leave her alone. You fuckin’ hear me!”

  I can’t hear Jake’s response. Different scenarios are running through my mind; mainly, my father beating the crap out of Jake. Daddy may be older but he’s fit and can fight with the best of them.

  I’m terrified.

  For a moment, I’m afraid Jake will leave me. He does have a daughter to raise and provide for, and he’s only known me a short time. I shake my head. I can’t allow myself to think like that; I need to have faith in our feelings and our connection. I think of our time together and I know he won’t let me go.

  My mother runs toward the office to see why my father is yelling. She finds me outside the door.

  “Oh, honey, what have you done?” she asks me in a voice only a mother can use with her child.

  “I love him, Momma. I know I’m young and this isn’t what you and Daddy wanted for me, but I love him. I won’t give him up,” I vow to her.

  She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Then, she hugs me saying, “I’d hoped the look you two shared during the Christmas party was a passing thing.” She notices the surprise on my face. “You didn’t think I saw that, huh? I see everything, darlin.’ When will you and your brothers realize that? It’s my mommy magic—when I had you children, I gained mommy superpowers. I just didn’t expect you to fall in love. Come, darlin,’ let’s go make sure your father doesn’t kill my future son-in-law.”

  She turns me toward the door and takes us inside. Daddy and Jake are standing facing each other, like in those old Western movies. My father’s face is red and he’s breathing hard, his nostrils flared. Jake is holding his own, refusing to be intimidated by my father, his commander.

  “I won’t let her go, sir. I love her and I promise to take care of her,” I hear Jake tell Daddy.

  My mother goes to my father’s side like she always does, standing with him. She touches his shoulder and tells him to calm down. I go to Jake and stand next to him. My father notices and doesn’t like it one bit; this is the first time I don’t go to him first. I go to Jake, just like my Momma goes to my father. As soon as he sees this and realizes the significance, he takes a long, defeated breath.

  “Is this what you want, Faith?” he asks. “Are you willing to give us up to go with him? To put your dreams on hold so you can follow him around? You know this life isn’t easy. The only reason we survived as a family is because your mother held us together. She made sure you kids were raised right and she put me in my place when I got out of hand. Are you willing to take that on at your age? Are you willing to raise another woman’s child as your own?”

  My father is right, do I want to take on the responsibility of a child at such a young age, am I ready? Am I ready to put all my plans aside to follow Jake and build a home together? Can I do all this at my age?

  In a matter of seconds, I make a decision that will affect the rest of my life.

  Yes. The answer is yes, because I love him and I love Rylee. There is a reason everything is falling in place the way it is—everything is happening at a whirlwind and it’s inexplicable, but I can’t go against my feelings and my instincts. I need them and they need me. Things might not always be easy, but for them, I’m willing to take everything on and make us a strong and happy family because they deserve it.

  I take a deep breath and nod. “I love him, Daddy. He’s a wonderful man and he makes me happy. I know Rylee and Jake come as a package, and I’ll do everything in my power to make us a family. I love him and I love that little girl. Things aren’t always going to be perfect and my plans will have to change, but I’m not giving up, Daddy. I know we’re supposed to be together.”

  He closes his eyes, turns to my mother, and hugs her.

  “You know this isn’t what I wanted for you, right? I never wanted you to live this life—goin’ day, weeks, and months without seein’ your husband, practically being a single parent, and carrying everything on your shoulders. I wanted you to marry a man with a nine to five job, a man who could be at home at reasonable hours so you could have your career without stressin’ about who’d watch the kids or pick them up. This life we live isn’t easy, Pumpkin,” he tells me swallowing hard, as if holding back tears. “I felt I put your mother through enough, I didn�
�t want that for you.”

  “I know Daddy, but I love him. I can’t turn away from him and Rylee because our life might be hard. I learned from you and Momma—I know I can do this.”

  He takes a deep breath and then he says to me in his commander’s voice, “You’ll finish your degree first—that’s an order. Jake, you hurt my little girl and I’ll fuckin’ kill you—I’ll kill you, you hear?”

  At his words I feel a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. Jake and I turn to each other and hug. We’ve surpassed our first obstacle; we have my father’s blessing.

  Four months later, Jake gets orders to Germany. Refusing to leave me behind, we marry a week later at the Justice of the Peace. It wasn’t my dream wedding, but we couldn’t bear to be parted. We wanted to belong to each other legally and it was the only way the military would allow me to join him.

  That day, we promised to love each other through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.

  On 21 July 2001, I become the happiest woman in the world—I become Mrs. Jacob Hunter Duval II.

  We had forever to live as husband and wife. From then on, it was Jake, Rylee, and me against the world.

  The years passed. Things weren’t always easy; between finishing my degree, deployments and his demanding work schedule, Rylee’s schedule, and my career, time was precious for us. Yes, I accomplished my dream of playing in the World Cup—it wasn’t easy and at times, I wanted to give up, but with hard work, determination, and Jake’s undying support it happened. I played on the 2003 and 2007 team and represented my country from 2002–2008. I was on top of the world—I had the career I always dreamed of. Even now, I’ll never forget the first time I stepped onto that field.

  21 September 2003

  I take deep steady breaths. In and out. In and out.

  This is it. This is what I’ve been working for all my life.

  Finally, I’ve made it here. Last year, I made my first appearance at the North American Cup but now … this is the World Cup.

  My dream.

  I bring my cleated right foot up to the bench—the ritual begins. I’m careful not to spill my bag of skittles, my good luck charm for as long as I can remember, and I tie my cleat nice and tight. Then, the other, and I go through my routine of finishing my bag of skittles, pulling my socks up tight, and then folding them over just right—first the right and then the left. I stand up, do the Sign of the Cross, and send a prayer up above. Finally, I tighten my ponytail and make sure my headband is secure. Everything has to be done in a precise order—always. I go through all of our plays in my mind and try to calm myself. I have butterflies in my stomach, I’m nervous and excited, but in a good way.

  Finally, I’m here.

  All the time away from Jake and Rylee—the exhaustion, sweat, blood, and the sore muscles—everything has been worth it because today, my family gets to see me out there on the field. Today, they get to see me make my World Cup debut on my home soil.

  “You ready, chica?” I hear from my right. I turn and see Julia.

  “Heck, yeah!” I reply excitedly. “I’m more than ready. It’s almost time, Julia. Pretty soon, we’ll be out on that field playing the game we love so much. We’ve done it.”

  “Damn right we have, Faith. This is our time, babe. It’s our time to shine.”

  We follow our teammates and make our way through the tunnel leading into the stadium, we do this together like we’ve done so many things over the years. Jake is my happily-ever-after, but Julia is my best friend—she taken care of me and I’ve held her hand when she’s needed me.

  We hear the cheering of the crowd and revere in the feeling it invokes. The adrenaline starts pumping through our veins as we step out onto the field and we look around. The stadium is full of fans, most are dress in red, white, and blue but there are other colors mixed in. Coach has us warm up for several minutes and then we’re called to the sidelines.

  It’s game time.

  We line up, place our right hand over our hearts, and the other on our teammate’s left shoulder. As the singer starts to sing the National Anthem and I proudly sing along with her giving it my all, I look up into the crowd and I find Jake. He looks at me and he smiles proudly.

  I’m here on the field with Julia but he’s supported me the whole way here. We made it.

  Life was perfect for us. Our family was beautiful, happy, prospering, and we were considering expanding the Duval family by one more. Our dreams were coming true and we had forever.

  But life always has a way of changing even the best-laid plans. Life decided she had other plans for us, and in the blink of an eye, our perfect world unraveled.

  Tragedy struck.

  Our “forever” lasted six years, nine months, and five days. On 26 April 2008, I got that dreaded knock on my door that changed my life and shattered my dreams. That day, I lost Jake and a piece of my heart.

  At age twenty-five, I was left a widow with a daughter to raise.

  A week later, we flew across the ocean to bury my husband in Texas.

  Two weeks later, I started vomiting.

  About a week after that, I discovered I was pregnant.

  Fall 2012-Grangersville, Texas

  “Rylee! Hurry up or you’ll be late for your first day of school!” I yell to my daughter. “If you don’t get down here in the next five minutes, I’m haulin’ your butt myself. How will you like having your Momma takin’ you to school on your first day?”

  Having a teenage daughter is hard work. I don’t know how I made it to adulthood without my momma killing me. Rylee—that girl is just like me. She may not be my daughter by blood, but she’s my daughter in every other sense. Like now, she’s taking her sweet ol’ time getting dressed. Everything has to coordinate from the top of her pretty head to her toes.

  I guess my momma and I are to blame. Momma taught me to always be presentable and never leave the house looking a disaster. When we dress nicely, we feel good about ourselves, and the way we look reflects on our husbands. I followed that mentality into my marriage with Jake and I made sure to never embarrass my husband with my appearance. Don’t get me wrong—Jake thought I was the most beautiful woman in the world, even when I looked like crap and was sick as a dog. But, appearances do count in the world and my momma wanted me to be prepared.

  Even now, I still keep in shape. Partly for work but even then, I enjoy a long run and a weight session every now and then. Rylee and even Skylar are the same way—I guess the tradition continues with my girls.

  “I’m comin,’ Momma. It’s my first day and I’m the new girl. Like you say, perfection takes time and effort. I can’t go to school lookin’ like a dork. The horror it’d be if my outfit doesn’t match,” I hear coming from Rylee’s room upstairs.

  Yup, she’s my daughter alright.

  “I’m ready, Momma,” Skylar says from the breakfast table where she’s munching down on a bowl of Apple Jacks. How that little girl prefers Apple Jacks to Lucky Charms, or any of the other more sugar-infused cereals, still baffles me, but at least she’s happy and semi-healthy. “Rylee takes forever to get ready, Momma. I never take that long.”

  I laugh to myself as I hear these words from my little princess’s mouth. This little darlin’ is well on her way to emulating her big sister and her momma. At the age of two, she started dressing herself and refused to wear clothes she didn’t pick out; she has her own sense of style. Skylar manages to mix polka-dots and stripes, layers her clothes, loves her sparkle and always wears pink in some form or another. She’s my mini-fashionista who’s constantly going through Rylee’s and my closets, and she loves wearing our shoes. Ha! The only reason she’s ready on time today is because I made her pick out her clothes last night.

  It’s moments like these that I miss Jake the most; moments that are sweeter shared with your other half—your partner, your lover. Today, both of our girls are heading to their first day of school.

  Rylee’s starting her senior year at a new
school; it surprised me she didn’t throw a fit when she discovered we were moving to be closer to my work, and because that’s what Jake always wished. Knowing college scouts would find her might’ve played a huge part in evading an epic melt-down. Julia was also offered a teaching and coaching position at this new school, and Rylee wasn’t losing one of her long-time coaches. But most of all, I think she needed a change. There were too many memories at the old place for her—she’s lost enough and I think she really needed to get away. Whatever the reason, I’m grateful I didn’t have a fight on my hands and a massive dose of teenage drama.

  Skylar, our precious little girl whom Jake never got to meet, is headed to her first day of Pre-Kindergarten. Oh my goodness, Pre-K! Where has the time gone? I still remember the weeks following Jake’s funeral. I thought I’d caught the flu in the middle of spring; not only was I grieving the loss of my husband and helping Rylee through her loss, but I was also puking my guts out. Sounds gross, but it’s true. I was miserable and couldn’t hold anything down. My mother finally convinced me to see a doctor. Let’s just say that doctor’s visit was one for the record book.

  22 May 2008

  I’m sitting in the examination room after briefly speaking with the nurse and doctor about my symptoms. I had to pee in a cup even though I told them I wasn’t pregnant because my husband wasn’t here, but they told me it was “just in case.” I’m praying I don’t have some mutated strain of the flu when Dr. Brown steps into the room.

  “Well, Mrs. Duval, I have some good news for you,” she says smiling. “You don’t have the flu or anything contagious. On the contrary—congratulations, you’re pregnant.”

  My heart stops and I just look at her for several moments, before recovering my voice.

  “That’s not possible,” I reply. “It can’t be true. My husband’s gone. He’s dead.”

  She stands there completely speechless. That happens a lot when people find out; they don’t know how to behave or what to say.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” she responds, finally composing herself. “With all due respect, how long has your husband been gone?”