As I get out of my buddy Roe's small, cramped, late model Integra, I thank him for the ride and grab my laundry bag out of his tiny trunk. My legs feel like I have weights on them, tired from the 3-hour ride home. I wave at Roe, and then walk through the front of the lobby of Silicon Valley Inn and Suites. I look out at the clean blue and gold sign on the front lawn. This is home. My parents manage a small hotel in Sunnyvale, California. As I walk through the elegantly decorated lobby towards our small apartment on the first floor, I pass the front desk and surprise my father. As my father looks up from his paperwork, I see his tired eyes open in disbelief. I feel so happy inside I almost forget to explain to him why I'm home and how I got here. He doesn't question me, he is just happy to see me. As he walks me inside our apartment I find everything exactly how I left it. .
Walking towards my mother in the kitchen, I hear my father's voice calling my mother so excitedly. His voice sounds so much more real in person than over a long distance telephone call. The first part of our apartment leads to our dining area. I can see the lines in our light blue carpet from where my mom had vacuumed just minutes ago. The chairs are pushed in exactly where they belong, on top of the carpet's worn spots. The curtains are blue with little silver diamonds embroidered into them and match our carpet. When I think of home, the first thing I think of is our family meals in the dining area. This is where our family comes together to be close. The dining room is a favorite place for us to be even before meals since you can get a clear view of my mom preparing the meal. Since it is mid day almost lunch, the light is coming in through the kitchen window and the smell of lunch being prepared is in the air. The sharp smell of cut onions and bell peppers dominate the room.!.
I stand with my father for a second as we watch my mother's fast hands pause from cutting vegetables from behind the Formica kitchen counter.