They usually joke about it, the way that Rachel continues to linger in their home even though she's been gone for months. Sometimes, it's the only way they bear the emptiness in the house now.

Not that Rachel isn't already everywhere in their home. There are pictures of her all around, memories associated with almost every inch of the house – that time when she was just a toddler and rode straight into a wall on her tricycle, that time she sang so loud she pissed off the neighbours (her intention, of course, as they didn't "appreciate her talent").

Despite being away for university – and now staying upstate in New York for a summer role she landed – Rachel is still everywhere in the Berry home.

And sometimes the Berry fathers want nothing more than to have their daughter back in it.

-x0x-

Leroy is whistling an old Streisand tune as they wash the dishes together, one that Hiram knows even Rachel hasn't sung in a while, and Hiram smiles.

When Hiram thinks about it, about a year ago, Rachel would be the one singing the tune, loudly and proudly, and he and Leroy would be singing softly in the background. And once one song ended, he knew that another one would probably be sung right after. It was this reason that there was never a silent space in the Berry household, but Hiram knew he'd never have it any other way.

"That's an old one," Hiram comments, raising a brow at his husband and wiping a dish dry.

"It's from Funny Girl," Leroy admits, handing Hiram another wet plate.

Hiram simply nods, and before the silence is prolonged, he hears Leroy mumble, "She didn't call today…"

Hiram sighs, wiping the dish he was handed dry and putting it away before closing the distance between him and Leroy, wrapping his arms around his husband.

"Summer role," he reminds Leroy gently.

"I know, I know," Leroy replies quietly. "Still, it's Father's Day, you'd think she'd call."

Hiram chuckles, pressing a quick kiss onto Leroy's shoulder. "It's our daughter, Leroy. She's probably too busy orchestrating a Barbra number in our honour." Hiram's mostly kidding, and Leroy knows it, but the thought still comforts him, and the issue is dropped.

-x0x-

Later that night, when he and Leroy are going through their nightly skin routine together, the thought occurs to Hiram.

It's funny how you remember someone, he thinks. The way he remembers his daughter is probably not the same way his own husband remembers her, and certainly not the same way most people in Lima remembers her. Hiram remembers his little girl as his songbird, never silent and always singing. He appreciated every inch of talent she had and supported her every dream. He's been picked on, called out, accused of "feeding his daughter false hopes", but Hiram always knew his little Raquela was destined for more than what Ohio had for her.

The thought prompts Hiram to ask, "How do you remember her?"

"Remember who?" Leroy replies, opening another bottle of moisturizer.

"Rachel," he says.

For a moment, Leroy is silent, and Hiram briefly wonders if the question is too posed as if they were talking about someone who's dead. But before he can wander in his fear, his husband answers, "Loud, and a bright ball of energy. She never was one to stay quiet, was she?"

Hiram chuckles, capping the bottle of his cream. "No. Always had a song to sing."

"That was our doing," Leroy points out, his eyebrow rising.

Hiram smiles, looking at his husband through the mirror, and replies, "Something to be proud of, in my mind."

"Mine too," Leroy agrees, grinning back.

At that moment, the phone rings. Hiram claims the call, his skincare routine finished anyway, and he picks up the phone.

"Berrys residence," he greets, his tone bouncing as it always does when he picks up the phone.

"Papa?"

"Rachel?" Hiram breathes, his voice just above a whisper. Still, it's loud enough for Leroy to hear him and soon the two Berry men are surrounding the phone. Hiram puts the phone on speaker for Leroy to say, "Rachel? Hi darling, how is the play coming along?"

Rachel chuckles, the sound so familiar and comforting that Hiram can't help but smile. "Well, Daddy! Though, I have to say, the leads are completely obtuse and – oh, wait, that wasn't my reason for calling!"

Raising an eyebrow, Hiram asks, "No?"

"No, I called because," Rachel begins, and she takes a deep breath, "Happy Father's Day to you, happy father's day to you…"

Rachel sings her own Father's Day versions of "Happy Birthday" and "Happy Holidays", the two songs mixing together in a smooth medley. Hiram listens quietly, clutching Leroy's hand and unable to stop grinning.

"Happy Father's Day, Dads," Rachel whispers, ending her medley in a soft breath.

"That was beautiful as always, Rachel," Leroy whispers, and Hiram doesn't doubt that Rachel can hear the smile in his voice through the phone.

"Thank you, Daddy," she replies. "I'm sorry I couldn't call earlier, I know it must be very late –"

"Not a problem at all, Rachel," Hiram interrupts. "You know we'll pick up every time."

There's a pause, and then Rachel says, "I wish you guys were here, I miss my papas."

Feeling Leroy squeezing tight on his hand, Hiram replies, "And we miss our little Raquela. But we'll be there for your first performance, remember?"

"Mhm," Rachel says quietly, and from there the Berry family chats for over an hour, catching up on Rachel's theatre escapades and in the end, somehow, it feels like she's never left at all.

DADDIES BERRY FEELS ON FATHER'S DAY Y'ALL. DON'T JUDGE ME. Hope you enjoyed and Happy Father's Day to those celebrating! :D

xoxo bjaarcy

PS Wow, this is the 50th fic I posted on this site since I signed up... O.o