miracle | tayley

i hate to see your heart break

     "Hayley, honey can you help me for just a second," Michelle calls from the open back door, pulling Hayley's attention away from the scene that's been managing to captivate her for the last several minutes. 

     Taylor is currently producing giant bubbles for Rowan and his nieces using a giant plastic wand. Everytime he creates a new one their daughter eyes him with a sense of wonder and adoration so apparent Hayley has found herself unable to look away. And every time one giant bubble bursts, unexpectedly, Rowan looks to her cousins, gauging their reactions, before dissolving into fits of delighted giggles. They've been at this for the past twenty minutes or more, and none of them seem the least bit bored with the game yet. Including Taylor, whose eyes sparkle with delight each time Rowan's laughter pierces the air, high and bright.

     The Yorks have thrown this end-of-summer barbeque, though it's not quite the end of summer just yet, in honor of everyone in the family having finally, officially met Rowan. One last party for the year, with everyone in attendance, before the kids go back to school and the summer heat flares a final time before sputtering and fading into the cool breezy crispness of autumn.

     Hayley drags her eyes away from Taylor and their daughter and rises from the lawn chair she's been occupying for the last little while, moving toward the house, where Michelle has already disappeared back inside. As she enters the kitchen, she relishes the wash of cool air-conditioned air hitting her skin.

    "Hey," she calls as she comes forward, stopping to lean against the counter, wilting a little in relief at the sudden drop in temperature.

     "Oh, Hayley!" Michelle says, looking relieved. "Can you do me a huge favor?" She asks, looking regretful to put Hayley out in any way.

     "Of course," she replies, suffusing her tone with an audible obviously.

     "Do you see that platter up on the top shelf?" Michelle asks, pointing to the open cabinet in the corner.

     Hayley follows the line of her arm to where it's pointing all the way to the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. "Yeah, the silver one?" She clarifies.

     "Yes, that one. Do you think you could reach it if you stood on the counter?" She asks.

     Hayley eyes it for a second, judging the distance from the countertop to the top shelf. "I think so," she says, already kicking off her flip flops and moving toward the step stool that's been placed next to the counter.

     "Once upon a time I would've climbed up there myself, but well... Age, my body doesn't appreciate those types of shenanigans anymore. Plus, last time Peter caught me up there, he made me promise to get him or one of the boys next time, but they're all tied up and besides, those boys manage to break something every time I let them in my kitchen, I swear. Still to this day they move through my house like bulls in a china shop," she huffs, her voice filled with equal parts love and exasperation.

     Hayley laughs as she climbs easily onto the countertop, kneeling there to get her balance before rising gracefully from her knees into a standing position. It's still a bit of a stretch. The Yorks' old house has those glorious kitchen cabinets that go all the way up to the ceiling. She stretches onto her tip toes and just as she grasps the cold edge of the silver serving tray, she hears the back door open.

     It's Taylor. She knows because he's already talking before he even steps inside. 

"Hey Mom, have you seen Hayley? She was just..." Hayley hears his voice trail off and knows his mother must be nodding in her direction, behind her back. "Hayley!" She hears him exclaim. "What the hell are you doing up there?"