by Ml Rodriguez
“Jake has been gone almost a month,” I answer, still struggling with the reality that I’ll never see my husband again. Sometimes it easier to tell myself he’s on deployment instead of facing the harsh truth.
“It’s still possible. You’re about six weeks pregnant according to your last menstrual cycle,” she says.
We conceived right before his death—I do the math as tears begin to fall.
Coming back to the present, I remember how shocked Rylee, our parents, and all of our friends were. I was so angry that Jake would never get to meet our baby, but I was also grateful that God was blessing me with a miracle that Jake and I created. I was going to have another piece of Jake in my life.
Rylee and I managed to make it through our move back to Texas, my pregnancy, and helping Gunner keep The Phoenix Corporation—his and Jake’s recently started company—afloat. I took over Jake’s dream and made sure it didn’t die. I wanted his company to succeed as an honor to him. As a result, I had to change and put aside my career, but I it was worth it. I went back to school to earn my MBA so that I could help run the company, and I acquired some other skills along the way.
Today, Phoenix has made a name for itself and is well respected. All of our sacrifices haven’t been in vain. It hasn’t been easy, we’ve had some tough times, but we’re blessed to have a wonderful support system in our family and friends. Our kids have turned out pretty normal; they know they’re loved, they’re happy, involved in extracurricular activities, and well provided for. Overall, I think I’ve done a good job. I only wish that Jake could be here to share these precious and unforgettable moments with me. I think about him every day and miss him so much. I’ve learned to live without him, but I’ve never stopped loving him.
I finally hear Rylee run down the stairs, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Do we have any granola bars?” she asks hurriedly. “I’m gonna be late if I sit and eat breakfast.”
“Yes, there’re some in the pantry. Hurry, unless you want Mommy to take you to school,” I tease.
She gives me a horrified look, grabs a granola bar, throws me a goodbye kiss, and runs out the door. But not before yelling over her shoulder at us. “Good luck, Peanut! I love y’all always and forever.”
I watch her climb into the used midnight-blue Jeep Wrangler I bought for her sixteenth birthday and drive away. I turn to Skylar. “Alright, Peanut, let’s get you to school.”
Arriving to the elementary school is easy, but finding a parking spot, not so much. Everyone, and I mean everyone, decided to bring their kid to school on the first day, causing a massive traffic jam and a shortage of parking spots. I drive around for a few minutes until I see a spot come available and rush to beat all the other parents.
I won’t give this parking spot up! Especially since it’s located in the parking lot of the school and I don’t have to walk a mile to take Skylar to class. With some amazing driving skills, I make it and slide right in.
Yes—I got it! I do a small victory dance in my seat.
“You’re so silly, Momma,” I hear from Skylar.
“I know, Peanut. Don’t ever be afraid to dance and be silly,” I tell her. “But you still love me, right?”
“I do, Momma,” she assures me. “Very much.”
I park and walk around to Skylar’s side to open the child-proof locked door and get my little girl out. She takes a deep breath and looks up at me. She looks so adorable in her little white tank top with a pink sparkly flower in the center, her color-block pink and purple flared skort, and her pink-sequined Sperry’s. Her long brown hair is divided into two pigtails with matching pink bows. She’s my little princess—the fashionista.
“I’m nervous, Momma,” she tells me. “I’m a little bit scared. Do you think my teacher is gonna be nice?”
“It’s okay to be nervous and scared, Skylar, this is a whole new experience. Just don’t let those feeling overtake you. Take a couple more deep breaths and let’s go start your new adventure,” I reply.
I really hope her teacher is nice.
She grabs her brand-new Tangled backpack from the Jeep, steps aside so I can close the door, and waits for me. As I’m closing the door, I hear her squeal.
“Rylee! You’re here!”
I turn and see my eldest waiting next to our black Cherokee SRT. “What’s goin’ on, Rylee? Is everything okay? What are you doin’ here?” I ask. Last I remember, she was rushing out of the house and heading to school.
“It’s the peanut’s first day of school. There’s no way I’m missin’ that. Daddy can’t be here but I can. I made this at the last minute, so don’t laugh.” She gives Skylar a sign. “Hold it up and get together with Momma. Smile for the camera.”
She takes the picture and then switches places with me. After all the pictures are taken and we take a selfie of the three of us together, we each grab ahold of Skylar’s hands and march towards the school.
We arrive to the classroom where Skylar is assigned and meet her teacher. Skylar and Rylee head toward the backpack hooks and cubbies while I speak with Skylar’s new teacher, Ms. Jones. She explains the rules of the classroom and hands me several papers that need to be filled out, signed, and returned the following day, since we were unable to attend the meet-the-teacher conference held earlier in the month. I ask her about lunch and receive a menu and form to fill out so Skylar is able to eat at school when I don’t send her with a school lunch. I thank the teacher and excuse myself, allowing another parent to take my place.
I walk toward my girls. Skylar is showing her big sister her desk, introducing her new desk mate, and showing Rylee how she’s going to organize her supplies. I stand back and listen to my little girl adjust to her surroundings. I look at her and know that no matter how scared or nervous she is, Skylar is going to love school. A sense of peace fills me just as a small gust of wind passes through the room. I know Jake is watching over our little girls from heaven. I bend down and give my little peanut a big hug and goodbye kiss and tell her, “I love you.” I step back and let Rylee have her turn.
Rylee does the same but adds, “Good luck, Peanut, and don’t forget, take care of yourself in the playground. Don’t let the big kids be mean to you. If you have to slip and ‘accidentally’ have your foot meet their shin or your fist meet their face, then do so.”
Here we go.
I should probably expect a call from the principal later today. Thanks, Rylee, I say to myself, but I’m glad she said what I wanted to say. Finally, Rylee and I head out the door. As I step out of the classroom, I take a couple deep breaths and look at Rylee.
“Our little baby is growin’ up so fast. Thank you for being here with your little sister on her big day.”
She smiles.
“We’re all we have, Momma. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Daddy would’ve wanted me here and so here I am,” she tells me.
We hug and then start walking toward our Jeeps.
“Now let’s get you to school. Hopefully, the school doesn’t have a problem because you’re late,” I say.
“Eh …” she says with a shrug. “I’ll tell them today was my little sister’s first day as well and if they have a problem, then that’s on them. Family always comes first. Love you!”
Instead of heading to work, I call the office to let them know I won’t be coming in today, and they need to forward any urgent calls. And only urgent calls—I don’t want to be notified unless it’s an emergency and we’re going to war.
Today is one of those days for me—the ones where I hurt and I get emotional.
This will be the first day I don’t have Skylar with me. She’ll be at school the whole day and won’t be in my office coloring or trying to do flips over my chairs and couch. I’m really going to miss my baby.
This milestone makes me miss Jake more than normal. People say time heals all wounds, but mine don’t seem to be healing. I’ve learned to live my days for my girls, but the nights—those are the hardest. They’re lone
ly and long. I only have our memories to keep me warm and my tears to soak my pillow.
Jake and I were always cuddling, always touching in some way. He always held me after our lovemaking and would tell me he loved me more every day. Now, I don’t have that—I’m alone in my bed and almost five years later, I still miss his body next to mine. I had to sell our old bed because I couldn’t bring myself to lie there alone. It held so many memories—memories of our love, our antics, our fights.
Memories of our time together and what was robbed from us.
10 April 2008
“I love you so much, Faith, more than you can ever imagine. I thank God every day you were brave enough to approach me, making me the luckiest man in the world. I must’ve done something right because I have you beside me,” he says to me as we lie in our bed.
We had just experimented with some toys I bought at a neighbor’s Passion Party. Jake was extremely pleased when he came home late from work due to a lockdown. I met him at the door dressed in a sexy purple negligee and told him I had a surprise downstairs. He ran upstairs to give a sleeping Rylee a goodnight kiss, and then rushed downstairs to me. We had TONS of fun with those toys.
“I know, baby, I love you too,” I reply with a satisfied sigh.
“No, Faith, you don’t understand what a saving grace you are. Before you, I was a shell of a man. I’ve done my best from the very beginnin’ to raise and provide for Rylee, but that was it. Rylee’s biological mother hurt me when she left, and I never thought I’d be able to trust another woman after she abandoned us. She left my newborn baby girl like she was nothin’ to her and she walked away from me. What did I know about raisin’ a baby? I could barely take care of myself.”
Lately, he’s been acting strange—coming home early as much as possible, declaring his love more often, and doing things he normally doesn’t do, like take pictures without me asking. It’s almost as if he knows something … something he’s not sharing with me.
“Faith, you’ve shown me what a good woman really is and you’ve made me into a better man. You gave up your youth to marry me—never getting’ the chance to go out and drink or party all night like the other people your age. Instead, you took it upon yourself to make my daughter your own and make us a family. You are the glue that keeps us together—a stronger person I’ve never known. I’m gone more often than not for work but you never complain, and when I come home, you meet me at the door with a kiss every time. You even help take off my boots and my uniform. It’s you who keeps me in line when I become a hard man to love—when I bring the stress of work home. You encourage me to do my best and hold me when I feel like a failure. You’ve made this place a home and us into a strong and lovin’ family. Thank you, for everything you do, but mainly for lovin’ me.”
After those beautiful and heartfelt words, I’m sniffling and tears are starting to fall. I’ve been so emotional lately and his words just push me over the edge. The sobbing starts. I push my face into his neck and really let loose. Oh man, do they come. I can barely catch my breath, and all Jake can do is hold me.
Not only have I been an emotional wreck, but I’ve had this pain—a heaviness in my chest. I catch myself rubbing my heart at times. I don’t know what this feeling is, but I know I don’t like it and hope it goes away soon. Jake is here with me and not in Afghanistan or a war zone, so I know he’s safe. Thank goodness I don’t have to worry about getting that knock on my door—having my friends call or text before every visit or getting scared every time I see a soldier in dress blues in the neighborhood. My husband is here with me and he’s safe.
“It’s okay, baby. Don’t cry,” he tells me as he rubs my back gently.
“How can I not cry, Jake, when you say such beautiful words to me? You always let me know how much I’m loved and you do your best to provide for us. You respect me and treat me like a queen,” I reply. “I love you, my lover. You are my forever and I’m blessed to have found you. I’m the lucky one—I have you and Rylee. My world is perfect.”
He moves on top of me and starts to kiss me tenderly—my lips, my cheeks, my eyes, and moves to my neck. He bites that one spot that always makes me shiver and laughs softly. He knows what it does to me and he loves it. His hands move from my face, slowly trailing to my breasts. He caresses them—playing with my nipples, making me breathe faster. He suckles one nipple and continues to play with the other. His hands leave my breasts and make their way down my body until he reaches between my legs.
He gently spreads my legs, moving his fingers back and forth along my most sensitive part. They gently massage my clit until I’m begging him for more.
“Patience, my love,” he says. “We have all night …”
I return to the present as I reach the stoplight. I stop and shake my head. All those memories—so haunting and beautiful. How will I ever be able to let go? When will I be able to move on? Miranda Lambert’s “Over You” plays on my stereo as I wait for the light to turn.
I listen to the lyrics and realize how true they are. He went away, leaving me alone—how dared he? I know he didn’t mean to leave, but he did. He went away and now I’m here raising our daughters. Alone. God, why did you have to take him from us? Why …
I’ve gone through the stages of grief but nothing takes away the pain, the loss of him. After hearing the news, I pretended he was deployed and just couldn’t call me. When I couldn’t pretend anymore, I became so angry—angry at the person responsible and angry that Jake would never meet our unborn child. I was angry at everything he’d miss. I also turned my anger and blame to the job he loved and the responsibilities he held. Later, I just wanted to wake from the nightmare of reality. I prayed for the nightmare to go away and I lost myself in a sea of “what ifs” and “only ifs.” The only things keeping me from going into a full and dark depression were our children: Rylee and our new little miracle. I needed to be strong for them. And then, there was Phoenix. I couldn’t let Jake’s dream die with him. I had to toughen up and take charge. Julia was going through her own loss, so my pregnancy not only gave me strength, but it also helped bring back my best friend.
Finally, I pulled myself together and came to accept the loss of my husband. I began to live my life for our children and his dream. I existed, but I didn’t live. My smile never reached my eyes, but I made sure to put on a strong face for my loved ones. I lived during the days and I cried myself to sleep at night. I had to learn how to live without him—I’ve accepted his loss but I don’t like it. At times, with everything that occurred, I wonder if there was a higher power at work—guiding us, giving us strength, and making things happen.
In the distance, I hear the roar of a motorcycle, getting louder as it nears. I hear it stop beside me. I turn to my left and see this huge, beautiful black-and-chrome motorcycle. I think to myself how much Jake would like that bike and would totally want it.
My eyes leave the bike and move up to its rider. I see the side profile of a man wearing sunglasses and one of those black helmets without a visor. He looks handsome, I think, surprising myself—I haven’t looked at another man since Jake. He’s dressed in black from head to boots, his shirt molded to his muscular chest and his pants covering amazing-looking thighs—a work of art. I stare at him for what seems like an eternity. I know I need to stop, but for some strange reason, I can’t bring myself to look away.
He must feel my stare because he turns toward me. We stare at each other. I can’t turn away and I can’t see his eyes. I feel a strange force refusing to let go. His right hand slowly comes up and he removes his glasses.
I gasp.
I feel that jolt, like lightning.
Oh my … his eyes—can they be?
From our short distance, I’m mesmerized. I’ve never seen eyes that color in person. So unique and beautiful. They hold me captive—I stare and get my fill. And his face …
Holy freaking crap!
He looks like a model. His skin is tan, his eyebrows are perfectly arched, his cheekbones
are high and defined, his nose looks slightly crooked (like it was broken at one time—so he can’t be a model), his lips are full but not feminine, and he’s grinning.
He knows his effect on women. He’s a walking dream—all deliciousness on a stick. But it’s his eyes that hold me captive. They’re unique to the point of being strange, and yet amazing. I can only describe them as violet. His eyes are freaking purple!
By now, I’m almost drooling, but also uncomfortable. It’s been years since I’ve been affected by the opposite sex, and I don’t know how I feel about it.
I may be drooling and staring, but so is he. I mean, he’s staring back at me. He gives me a wink and that cool-man chin raise I always thought was so sexy when Jake did it. As soon as Jake comes to mind, I feel like cold water has been thrown on me and I’m quickly pulled out of my daze.
What in the world, Faith?
I’m so engrossed, I don’t notice the light has turned green until I hear a loud honk behind me. I immediately turn away and start pressing the gas to move forward. I hear him rev his engine. I take a quick glance at him one last time and notice his eyes are still on me. I think he wants me to put my window down, but I quickly look away and start moving forward. As I’m speeding away, I look into my rearview mirror and see him still in the same spot, watching my Jeep drive away.
Finally, I hear him accelerate and see him turn left. Thank goodness he went in another direction. I feel weird and unsettled. I try to shake those feelings off and keep driving. I speed away from that beautiful and electrifying man and make my way to Jake. Right now, I need to be near him and I need to share this day with him.
No matter how much I try, I just can’t help but feel like my world is about to change—that it’s about to be flipped upside down once again.
Zane
There she is. She’s even more beautiful than I remember. I’ve spent the last few years working to better myself—to be a man worthy of her because she deserves that and so much more.
