She’s helping the Matthews with a little spring cleaning when she finds it.
Maya is alone in Riley’s room, pittering around and avoiding work while Riley helps Auggie go through old toys. She leans over to pick up what she thinks is a stray piece of paper under Riley’s bed, only to discover it’s actually the corner of a poster. Curious, she sits down and drags the whole thing out.
Maya is the artist in their relationship and she’s always been comfortable with that knowledge. Riley can’t paint or draw to save her life. But looking at the collage she’s made, Maya can’t help but feel a little threatened. It’s beautiful.
In the center is a picture of them. It’s from their junior prom, taken just months prior (the Matthews like to spring clean in the fall, sue them). It’s a beautiful picture, one of Maya’s favorites of the two of them, but it’s not what takes her breath away.
Sprinkled around the picture of them, in a perfectly random way that can only be painstakingly intentional, are dozens of what Maya can only assume are magazine clippings. In the corner there’s a couple of wedding dresses and a flower bouquet. To the left there’s a stunning brownstone like the ones Maya’s passed countless times in Brooklyn. Just underneath their prom picture are pictures of babies. Their dresses and furniture and maps of places Maya has always dreamed of going. In the places where paper should shine through, Riley has decorated with vibrant colors, drawn swirls and spirals and loops. She’s doused sections in gold and pink glitter glue. There’s a dried flower in one corner that looks suspiciously like one that Maya plucked for Riley while they were taking a walk in Central Park.
Maya is still frantically scanning the poster, trying to memorize every detail, when Riley walks in.
“Maya!” She shrieks in a way that should leave Maya feeling a little ashamed, except that she’s too awestruck by Riley’s creation. When it becomes clear to Riley that Maya isn’t going to apologize or pretend like she hasn’t seen anything, Riley deflates a little bit.
“You weren’t supposed to see that. It’s just this stupid thing I made called a future board and please don’t freak out because it doesn’t have to mean anything and you probably think I’m a lunatic because I already have our wedding dresses picked out and you don’t even like romantic stuff like this and-“
“I think it’s beautiful Riley,” Maya counters with an air of finality.
Maya is not hopelessly romantic like Riley is, and she doesn’t know if they’ll have a big wedding someday and wear the lovely dresses that Riley has picked out (so obviously with such care, her ramblings about it not meaning anything a blatant lie) because she doesn’t dare hope for so much. But she likes the idea and it certainly doesn’t scare her. She’s always known her and Riley were going to be together forever, future board or not, big wedding or not.
Riley sits down next to Maya cautiously, as if Maya might change her mind and rip the poster to shreds.
“Do you really like it Peaches?”
Her voice is soft and hopeful, in a way that Maya knows she can’t help but be. Maya smiles and nods, leaning over to kiss Riley on the cheek.
“Do our babies have names?” She teases, delighted by the way Riley blushes.
“Ever since we did that project I’ve wanted to name our first daughter Rosie May,” Riley admits, a small smile lighting up her face.
“Only if we can name our first son Dylan.”
Riley considers this for a second, before springing up (,wobbling,) and grabbing a sharpie off her desk. She sits back down and carefully takes the poster from Maya. Under one baby she writes Rosie May and under another she writes Dylan.
Maya knows this sets nothing in stone. Maya knows there may be no big wedding with fancy dresses, may be no brownstone in Brooklyn with five little children running around, two of which will be named Rosie May and Dylan, but she does know wherever she and Riley end up, it’ll be together.
Their future together will be as beautiful as this collage, if not more.