miracle | tayley

heads in the clouds

A short while later, Taylor finds himself once again at his mother's familiar kitchen table. Michelle pours them both a cup of coffee and then makes her way over to sit across from him, setting a steaming mug next to his folded hands before taking her seat.

"So, how did it go?" She asks, but he knows what she's really asking.

"She's incredible, Mom," he says, telling her what she's really dying to hear, the details she's been waiting for about her granddaughter. "She's beautiful and smart and funny and... God, I love her. Already, I love her. I can't even believe how much," he says.

It all comes out in a rush, and he knows his eyes are shining, but he can barely contain the joy he feels just thinking about his and Hayley's daughter. "And Hayley," he adds, because he knows his mom has missed her as well. "She's so different. I mean, she's the same, she's still... Hayley," he says, an odd pause where he'd caught himself just before saying she's still my Hayley. "But... I don't know. She's a mom, you know?" He asks his mother, hoping she gets what he's struggling to say.

She takes his hands from across the table. "She's the mother of your child, Taylor. I'd imagine you'll feel a little differently about the woman she is now, than you did about the girl she was when she left here three years ago. You've both grown up quite a bit, I'd guess, but you're right... She's still her, just like you're still you. All of your history is still there. It's gonna take some time to reach a new normal, for both of you."

He thinks about his mother's words and decides she's right. "Seeing her as a mother is..." His voice trails off. It's so many things. Powerful, moving, surprising, entertaining, painful, exciting... Unbelievable. "It's really something," he settles on, comfortable in the knowledge that his mom can read him pretty easily after raising him and will know by his tone all that those words are struggling to encompass.

He shakes his head, "Rowan called me Daddy, last night, Mom," he says, and there's reverent awe in his voice that's audible even to his own ears. "Hayles woke her up, and told her to say hi to Daddy, and she did, and I know she was just repeating what Hayley told her to say, but... I can't even... There aren't even enough words in the English language, in any language, to describe how that felt."

"Oh, Honey!" She squeezes his hand, not interrupting, just letting him know she's with him on this emotional journey.

"And then later, we were playing and she called Hayley Mama, and I... I think that was maybe even better, somehow," he confesses, and watches as his mom's eyes fill with tears.

At one point, during last night's dramatic laundry basket car chase, Rowan had interrupted the festivities by standing up in the moving basket and demanding her mother's attention. "Mama," she'd said, in her sweet little girl voice, and then, more adamantly, "Mama!" Hayley had moved quickly, clearly recognizing the urgency in her daughter's tone.

"What, Baby?" She'd asked, dropping into an easy crouch in front of Rowan. "What's wrong?"

He'd watched Hayley slide her hand gently down Rowan's arm, taking her hand, and tilting her head close to their daughter's. Rowan had danced in place, in the laundry basket, eyes wide, quite obviously sending silent messages to Hayley with her eyes and body language.

"Do you need to potty?" Hayley asked her, quietly. When she'd nodded frantically in reply, Hayley had scooped her up onto her hip without hesitation. "Bathroom?" She'd asked, her look clearly indicating that time was of the essence.

"Behind the stairs," he'd managed. "Just past the entryway, there's a half-bath on the left."

He stood there in stunned silence, watching Hayley walk down the hallway, toward the front of the house, Rowan's pudgy fingers resting against Hayley's back, curling restlessly in the ends of her light waves.