Of Summer Songs

Crickets chirped in the distance, the sound of the river filling up any silence that might have been. Audrey stared out the window, captivated by the sunset. She let out a low hum, beginning to count the seconds in her head. Ten, then twenty, then-

There was a long painful creak from the front door, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps, and the pitter-patter of paws. Audrey sat still, waiting for the noises to pass. She began to count once more, thirty, then fourty, then fifty. Another wretched creak of the door, and after sometime the house fell into a eery silence. Audrey hopped down from her place by the window, running outside as quickly as she could. There was no sound from the river, no crickets chirping. Just the sound of suburbia, kids calling out to one another, parents coming home from work, streetlights turning on.

It had been ten years since Audrey had moved from the countryside to the city, leaving her family to pursue her life away from home. It was everything she had ever dreamed about, from nights on the town to cosy hangouts at home with her husband. Yet every time summer rolled around, when dusk began, Audrey would remember what summer sounded like when she was a child. She would be taken back to when her father would come through the door after a hard day's work, the family dog Bear following behind him. How her father would sit and smoke before heading back outside to finish watching the sunset. It was like a ritual, so sacred, none of her siblings dared to try and interrupt him.

But Audrey did. Only once, when her mother had tucked her in, she raced down the stairs, sitting by the window sill. She heard her father come through the door, watching as he kissed her mother on the forehead. Her mother kissed him back, and headed upstairs. But Audrey stayed. She listened to him smoke his pipe, humming an old song that their grandmother has sung often. Her eyes had become heavy, but at the sound of her father getting up, she raced to follow. She cracked the old front door open, as carefully as she could as to not disturb her father. She watched as he poured himself a drink, and in the light, she could make out tears falling from his face. He let out the softest of cries, so quiet she could barely hear them. She looked at Bear, his slow tail wagging as if he was trying to cheer her father up. As she tried to leave, she heard the old door open, a shiver running down her spine. She turned, waiting for a harsh scolding. Instead, she was met with her father's watery eyes, and shaky hands, as he scooped her up. He said nothing as he carried her to bed, tucking her in and kissing her goodnight.

When she left for the city, her mother was furious. She yelled and screamed about responsibility, cried about how much they'd miss her, gave her the cold shoulder the day she left. But her father held her tenderly, he explained to her sibilings that this was what she needed to live, kissed her forehead while holding it with shaky hands. Audrey touched her hand to her head, trying to remember the sensation. When she introduced Henry to the family, her mother was ecstatic, praising her for marrying a rich man from a rich family. Her mother went around their small town bragging to anyone who would listen. Her father however took both her hands, cupping them, whispering into them so softly she had to ask him to repeat what he had said.

"Does he make you happy Audrey? Does he treat you like you're his entire world?"

She nodded, and she could see the relief in his eyes.

Last year, he unexpectedly passed away at the age of sixty-eight. Her brother found him dead on the steps, his eyes closed, and his drink next to him. When she walked up to his casket, all Audrey could do was place a gentle kiss on his forehead, and hum the song she knew held a special place in his heart.