~~~ I step out of the elevator. More nervous than I have ever been in my life. I almost knock on the door, but then I remember there is no one there. I slip the key into the lock and turn until it clicks, then swing the door open. Another deep breath and I step into the apartment that I have not been in for over four years. I stop inside the door and let it close behind me, looking around I realize nothing has changed since I was last here. Over a chair that sits beside me, is draped my leather jacket. I had forgotten about that, it was my favorite. I'm too nervous to go any further than the foyer. It's been so long. The paintings on the walls are the same; even the fish tank still sits in the corner. I went through ten fish in a month, so we gave up and left the tank in the corner as a decoration. A pair of my mom's shoes lay on the floor beside me. It is the pair she wore that day before we left. It had been raining when she and dad packed our suitcases in the car, I can see wet stains on the carpet where he went across after forgetting something in the other room. Mom hollered at him for that. Finally, I take a few steps forward into the apartment, through the door that leads to the kitchen. Once again, everything is as I remember it. There are even a few dishes in the drainer, ready to be put away. I put them away in the cupboards that they belong, then look in the fridge. There is nothing in it but a jar of peanut butter. Then I remember my parents had everything unplugged in case of a brown out while we were away. They didn't want anything to go bad, so we ate or gave away all the perishable foods. I look in the food cupboard; there is a box of cereal and a few jars of homemade jam. I remember helping daddy look for the berries in South Market, when we couldn't find any, we had to go to uncle's cabin and pick some wild strawberries. We took Cindy and Bling with us and made it a weekend. When we came back home, daddy taught me how to make jam. I haven't had any of it in so long, it probably isn't any good by now. I take the jars out of the cupboard and throw them into the garbage can under the sink, and then I move on to the next room. The living room. It was always my favorite room, because of the floor to ceiling windows; you could see most of Seattle from there. Daddy wouldn't let me sit on the roof to think, so this was the closest I got to thinking in a high place. My mom would sit here sometimes too, but usually she went to the Space Needle when she wanted to think. Dad only sat and looked out the windows when it was raining. He was afraid of heights and didn't like the view unless it was blurred by rain. I walk over to daddy's stereo system; a feeling of déjà vu comes over me as I flip through his stack of his favorite CDs. Then I remember the dream I had while I was on the road, I did this during it. I pick up his absolute favorite, Sibilus, and place it in the stereo, hoping it still works, and then I plug in the machine in and press play. It works; I skip titles on the disk until it comes to the track that plays Valse Triste. I hit the repeat button so the song will play over and over, and then I walk down the hall to my father's office. The computer is covered in clear plastic to keep the dust off while we were away. I pull it off, the dust tingling in my nose. The chair is pushed over in a corner, so I pull it over to the desk and try to get some dust off while the computer is booting. The computer is password protected, of course. My father was a very private guy, security was everything to him, probably because of my mother. I don't know the password, so I start trying. I try my mom's name, my name, everything that I can think of, but they don't work. I think for a few minutes, then I try my dad's birthday, my birthday. I think some more, the date I was dropped on his doorstep. Nope. As I think, I look at the calendar on the desk, the day we left is still there. I flip through the pages, thinking, when something red catches my eye. I flip back to that page, about a week ahead of where the calendar is. There is a giant heart on the page, and the number 2o2o is written there, as well as my mom's name. I jump, realizing what I just discovered, the day my parents first met! I type it into the computer, rearranging the numbers. Finally, the computer lets me access it. ~~~