The Ridge Farm Summer

Summer Breeze

It was early June and all the windows in the house were wide open when I came home from the gallery. I had ridden the city bus to the edge of the business side of the street and walked the remaining way home. It was such a beautiful day. I walked up the stone walkway to the stoop and checked the mailbox, pulling a stack of mail from it. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, leaving my shoes just beside the door. “Roger?” I called. No answer. I thought maybe he was asleep in the family room so I poked my head around the doorway to the couch.  Not there. I made my way upstairs to change clothes. After a long evenin’ at the gallery, I was very ready to get out of these clothes. I could hear some children outside playin’ at the house next door through our open window as I pulled my clothes off and threw them on the bed. I walked over to the closet and pulled out a couple hangers, scooping up the dirty clothes piled up in the corner.

 I threw the pile into the hamper and hung up my clothes. I changed quickly into the same thing I wore nearly every evenin’ and piled my hair in a mound on top my head. Call it my ‘go to’ look, if you will. The stairs creaked under my feet as I made my way into the kitchen. There was a note on the table: Babe-rehearsing until 8 –R. Ah, so that’s where Roger was. I glanced up at the clock: 7:17. This was plenty of time. I went into the family room to straighten up the magazines on the table and fold the throw. I slung it over the back of the couch and turned on the lamp. I didn’t want Roger comin’ in to a dark house when dusk crept in.  I turned on the telly and picked up the pack of cigarettes on the table, pulling one out of the pack.  Roger had a stack of coupons that he had clipped from the Sunday paper lyin’ in a pile. I placed the lighter on top the stack after lighting my cigarette. I didn’t want the air from the open window scattering them everywhere.

 I went into the kitchen to get dinner started. I was gonna’ get some soup on and bake on of those pre-packaged bread mixes. I held my cigarette between my lips and pulled some things out of the refrigerator. I pre-heated the oven and cleared a space off to work. I didn’t have anythin’ to complete tonight for my university classes. I was takin’ one summer course but I never had much to do for it. I had decided to pop the door in the kitchen open as I cooked to keep it a little cooler. It was such a pleasant summer evening as the sun began slipping lower and lower on the horizon. I could hear some sprinklers outside in the nearby yards showering the grass with a gentle sprinkle. I exhaled cigarette smoke heavily and needed to ash a good deal of it off as I reached for a knife to chop up the chicken I had pulled out of the refrigerator.

 By 8:41, I had set the table in the dining room and the smell of chicken soup and baking bread had filled the house. I knew I needed to get that loaf out of the oven or it would burn for sure. I pulled it from the oven and sat the pan on top the stove to cool. I heard the front door open. Roger was home.

 “Lyd? Lyd? Somethin’ smells good in here.” I could hear him comin’ through the door and takin’ his shoes off. I gave my soup one last stir as I heard Roger’s footsteps across the floor comin’ into the kitchen. I wiped my hands off and threw the towel aside.

 “Hi, how was rehearsal?” I said as I got my customary ‘comin’ through the door’ kiss.

 “Oh Lyd, I got some news for you. I mean, this…this is big stuff.” Roger dropped his bag of stuff to the floor. I could hear sticks rattle against each other when he dropped it.  He put his hands on my shoulders. I saw Roger’s sunglasses hangin’ from his shirt. I was pleased he was wearin’ those so much. I had finally talked him in to prescription lenses a couple months back. I knew he would never wear glasses…but he would gladly wear perscription sunglasses. It was amazin’ how much his vision had improved once he started wearin’ those.