Chapter 6: The Sound of Home
1311 Words
Sunday morning came slowly.
The windows were cracked. The air inside carried the smell of cut grass and the sound of birds chirping far away.
Becca flipped pancakes on the stove. Bacon cooked in a skillet.
She hummed, absentmindedly.
Again.
It had become a morning ritual as of late.
A joyful one.
The youngest child wandered into the kitchen. She rubbed sleepy eyes.
“Something smells good.”
“Pancakes.”
“With chocolate chips?”
“Some of them.”
“Can mine have extra?”
“They usually do.”
Her daughter giggled.
“I knew being the baby had perks.”
Laughter floated out of the hallway.
“Mom, don’t let them trick you. They always get extra.”
“I heard that,” her youngest yelled.
“I wanted you to.”
Laughter echoed throughout the house.
Becca took in her surroundings. Surveyed her kitchen and smiled to herself.
For the longest time, Sunday mornings felt like walking into a room where you didn’t know the rules.
Would Lee be in a good mood?
Would breakfast be too late?
Too cold?
Too noisy?
Would someone say something they’d regret?
Every Sunday morning had started the same. With trepidation.
Today…
Begin with pancakes.
A Knock at the Door
The door swung gently at nine o’clock sharp.
Craig.
He stood on the porch holding two paper cups in his hands.
“I brought coffee.”
Becca chuckled.
“I already made some.”
“I know.”
He held one of the cups up for her to see.
“But you’re from the coffee shop.”
Her eyes moved down to the label. Her favorite. Just how she liked it. Extra caramel. Half the normal amount of syrup. Oat milk.
She smiled at him.
“You remembered.”
“I remember things.” He said plainly.
She shook her head at him.
“I don’t know how you do that.”
Craig shrugged his shoulders.
“I listen.”
Her youngest daughter stuck her head around the corner.
“Did you bring donuts too?”
Craig looked deflated.
…” I knew I forgot something.”
Her daughter exaggerated a sigh.
“We’ll let it slide.”
He chuckled. “I appreciate that.”
Building Together
Craig spent the morning and early afternoon with the kids outside building the chicken coop.
Today they were putting on the roof.
The eldest held the ladder.
Middle child fetched boards.
Youngest carried exactly one screw at a time.
Craig took each screw seriously.
“Good job.”
“I know.”
“You’re the fastest screw supplier in the state of Florida.”
“I know.”
Becca laughed from the back porch.
“You have created a monster.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her.
“I think they were born that way.”
She set a pitcher of lemonade on the table outside.
“You kids need to take a break.”
“No arguments here,” Craig said, wiping his forehead.
They sat beneath the shade of an oak tree in their yard.
Her youngest daughter immediately fell asleep against Craig’s shoulder.
He didn’t ask her to. Didn’t pull her away either.
He simply…accepted what the kids were willing to give him.
The Neighbor
While they sat out back, an elderly woman from next door came strolling over. She had a basket of tomatoes in her hands.
“Morning!” She shouted.
“Morning, Mrs. Jenkins,” Becca yelled back.
“I just had too many tomatoes.” She handed Becca the basket.
She then seemed to notice Craig for the first time.
“Well now.”
A smile spread across her face.
“So, this is the boy I’ve been hearing about.”
He chuckled, “I don’t know about ‘boy,’ ma’am.”
Mrs. Jenkins laughed.
“So smart too.”
She looked knowingly at them both.
“It’s good to see someone sitting on this porch again.”
Becca smiled politely.
“It is.”
Mrs. Jenkins patted her arm gently. Then turned and walked back to her own home.
“You deserve laughter around this house.”
The words stuck with her long after she’d faded around the corner.
The Conversation
Later that afternoon, all three kids came inside to watch a movie.
Craig and Becca stayed outside on the porch swing.
The coop finally had a roof on it.
It looked close to complete.
Craig bounced the swing with his boot.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
She smiled. “That sentence is becoming a staple.”
He chuckled, “I guess it is.”
“What?”
He investigated the backyard.
“What did you use to dream about? Before life got so complicated?”
She sat quietly for a moment.
He was right. She did know the answer.
She just hadn’t thought about it in years.
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
She snorted quietly.
“When I was eighteen…”
She looked up at the trees.
“I wanted a small house…”
Craig grinned, “I remember.”
She stared at him, confused.
“You do?”
“Sit down and shut up.” He chuckled
“You used to tell me.”
“I did?”
He nodded his head yes.
“You wanted a porch that wrapped around the entire thing.”
Her eyes widened.
“I forgot…”
He shook his head.
“No, you didn’t.”
“You wanted all kinds of flowers…”
She smiled widely.
“And chickens.”
“You’ve always wanted chickens.”
She laughed.
“I suppose I have.”
“And a kitchen that everyone could fit in and spend time together.”
She locked eyes with him.
“You remember all that?”
He stared at her as if that was obvious.
“You told me your dreams when we were just fourteen.”
Tears formed in her eyes.
“He remembered that for almost thirty years?”
Craig took her hand gently, not squeezing. Merely placing his hand next to hers on the swing.
“You mattered to me.”
The Truth
She looked off into the distance, past their yard.
“I gave up dreaming.”
Craig squeezed her hand gently.
“I know.”
“I became so busy just surviving that I forgot to live.”
He continued to hold her hand.
“I forgot who I used to be.”
Her husband pulled her hand closer. Strengthening his grasp on hers.
softly “And now she’s remembering.”
Sound of Home
Kids came out onto the porch late in the evening. They were holding bowls of popcorn.
“Are we watching a movie outside?”
Craig looked at Becca sitting on the swing next to him.
“What do you think? We should…”
She cut him off with a grin.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
Before long, blankets were being thrown on the ground.
A projector was plugged in and sat against the back wall. Movie screen: An old white bedsheet stretched across two trees.
Little one fell asleep halfway through.
The middle child laughed too loudly during dramatic scenes.
Oldest snuck her head onto her mom’s shoulder.
Craig sat down beside them.
No grand pronouncements. No need for anything extra.
He simply sat with them.
Becca looked around at the people she loved.
On the porch swing.
Chicken coops behind them.
The sound of her family’s laughter floated across her yard.
It hit her then.
She knew for years what she was missing.
She used to think home was a place.
Four walls and a roof. A physical structure you could touch.
But she was wrong.
Home isn’t the place you live.
Home is where you aren’t afraid to breathe.
- Writer
