miracle | tayley

stop asking why we had to waste so much time

     That afternoon it starts to rain, so they are forced to spend the day inside, but they don't have any trouble occupying their time. Mostly, the day is spent in conversation, just catching up with each other, with the Yorks all taking turns entertaining Rowan and getting to know her.

     Eventually, they all end up sitting at the kitchen table, passing an ipad back and forth across the smooth wooden surface. Hayley had thought to bring along some photos of Rowan's life so far. She'd been so unprepared for her meeting with Taylor that it hadn't even occurred to her till that first drive back home, but this time she'd come prepared.

     Michelle and Peter ooh and ahh over each and every picture, and Taylor stares silently at photo after photo of his daughter's life. There are so many moments. Rowan in the hospital, red and crying and obviously only moments old. It's a close up, the only trace of Hayley, her index finger, clutched tightly in their daughter's fist.

     Rowan in the bath, looking like a little tadpole, with her round belly and tiny bottom and legs. Rowan making a disgusted face as something that might be mashed peas leak slowly from her open mouth. Rowan taking what is clearly a wobbly step between Cristi's outstretched hands and Hayley's waiting ones. Rowan at her first birthday party, staring in confusion at the remains of her pink smash cake after her hands have obviously demolished it. Rowan in the bath again, laughing, bubbles up to her chin and piled high on top of her head. Rowan at her second birthday party, pouting, arms crossed, clearly upset over having to wait for someone to light the candles on her cake. 

     On and on and on, and then at the end, almost as an afterthought, a single photo of Hayley when she was obviously very pregnant with their daughter. She's sitting cross-legged on the wooden planks of the back deck, facing the water. Someone had obviously called her name, and she'd turned, surprised. She's wearing a loose fitting, but clingy white sweater and a pair of cut-off denim shorts, and her hands are resting on top of her very prominent baby bump. She has her glasses on and her hair is long and loose, tumbling down her back and lifting wildly on the breeze. She looks young. And sad.

     Taylor can't look away from that one for some reason, and he has to swallow hard past the lump that's formed in his throat, before he can say, "Thank you for bringing these, Hayley. They're great. I- thank you."

   "You're welcome," she says, smiling, and he can't help but notice that her eyes are still just the tiniest bit red-rimmed from earlier.

     It's Peter that probably saves the rest of the afternoon from becoming a completely emotional affair by asking, "Hey, Michelle, I thought you were making cookies earlier. Where'd they end up?"

     She'd put the dough away after a single batch once Hayley and Rowan had arrived, but upon his request she pulls the chilled chocolate chip cookie dough from the refrigerator and gets to work on baking the rest of the cookies that she'd promised Justin for the kids' bake sale. It takes very little convincing to get Rowan to help, and the afternoon takes a decidedly upbeat turn after that.

     Taylor spends the remainder of the hours between then and dinner watching Rowan scoop ever-growing portions of cookie dough onto his mother's baking sheet from her perch on the counter near his mother's hip. Hayley stands on her other side, redistributing the dough into more proportioned amounts while Rowan's back is turned. The process might be tedious to some, but he thinks he could watch this scene unfold for the next hundred years and not grow tired of it.

     By the time the cookies are all cooled and stored neatly in their transport containers, it's dinner time and they all settle in at the table for a meal together before Hayley has to drive back home.