[ WP ] You 've managed to create a `` what-if '' machine . This allows users to analyze past decisions and receive a read out of alternative events .

“ Are you really going to do this? ” My wife, Hailey asks while she ’ s flipping her Saturday morning omelet. Her blonde hair is tied back, allowing her glowing face to shine. Her newly widened stomach trying desperately to escape the t-shirt she ’ s wearing. She has never been more beautiful. 
 
 I move across the kitchen and cup her protruding stomach in my hands. 
 “ Of course, ” I say gazing into her big brown eyes “ It ’ s the whole reason I rushed to finish the machine. ” She places a hand on my face while she chuckles at my response. 
 “ Why can ’ t we be normal and just see what happens when the time comes? ” 
 I role my eyes jokingly “ But there are so many possibilities! What if it ’ s a girl? What if it ’ s a boy? Don ’ t you want to know what the future holds? ” 
 
 Smiling she answers, “ I like surprises. ” she puts the finished omelet on a plate. “ Want some? ” she asks, “ I plan on making about 20 more, this thing eats like you did in college. ” I laugh and kiss her forehead “ Maybe after, ” I bend down and kiss her belly, “ and I promise, I wont tell you a thing. ” 
 
 I leave her to watch TV while I head down to the basement, where the machine resides. Since the original design, I have now made it possible for users of my “ What if? ” machine to view their past or future scenarios through images along with the actual read out of events. I connect all of the sensors to my body, and plug the data into the machine after taking a light sedative to keep my brain calm. I sit in my comfortable lounge chair, and it only takes 5 minutes for me to start seeing images. 
 
 Hailey in the hospital, tired looking, her hair is messy but she ’ s smiling. A bundle of pink blankets are in her arms, it ’ s a girl. The nursery flashes, Hailey and my daughter sitting in the rocking chair her parents gifted us. Both are asleep, Hailey is unconsciously smiling to herself. Images of ballet recitals and soccer practices flash by. Hailey is always cheering or clapping at the front of the crowd. I sit next to her, a proud dad. Scraped knees and the school years follow. First boyfriends. Jeez, I ’ m in no way ready for that. There ’ s Hailey trying to convince me not to kill the first boyfriend that breaks my daughter ’ s heart. High school graduation, then college. We ’ re there for all of it. Then there is the wedding, Hailey and I are older, and her hand is on top of mine while she cries the happiest of tears. She ’ s still just as beautiful as the day we met. She insists on a mother daughter dance after the traditional father daughter one. My two girls hold each other and they continue to dance until the images fade. 
 
 A new set starts after a minute of darkness. The same first image of Hailey in the hospital is the same, only the bundle of blankets is blue, a boy. Instead of the rocking chair, Hailey and my infant son are passed out in front of the TV. Both are covered head to toe in Red Sox paraphernalia. The same unconscious smile is spread across my wife ’ s face. Next is the pep talk right before his first baseball game, Hailey is wearing a foam finger and taking pictures while I kneel down next to my son trying to give him confidence. Teaching him to ride a bike and his school years are next. Hailey catching our son making out with his first girlfriend is priceless. She hollers at him, and from behind I give him a thumbs up. She wants him to be her little boy forever. Then come his school graduations followed by his wedding. I can ’ t get over how beautiful Hailey still is. Even having aged 25ish years, her brown eyes still shine with curiosity and youth. She dances with our son at his wedding while the images disappear. 
 
 I wake up with my heart full. I take the write up from my “ What if? ” scenario and rush upstairs to a dark house. I hunt for my keys and head out the door. I can ’ t keep myself from smiling for the duration of the drive. I park on the grass and hurry to find my wife. 
 
 “ Hailey! I have to tell you, girl or boy, it doesn ’ t matter! They were beautiful, our son, our daughter, they were beautiful. You were beautiful… Here just read this. ” I set the write up of the scenario in front of her. I stand there for a while; waiting for a reaction, but receive nothing. Before leaving, I secure the pages with a stone, so they won ’ t blow away. I hop back in my car and leave the cemetery with a sad smile. I now know the answer to my biggest question, “ What if we were never involved in that fatal car crash? ” 

