Leap of Faith (La Flor #1) (4 page)

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?”

“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.