Returning 'home'

He woud turn twelve that fall. Ever since he could remember he had learned to call San Francisco home, though he had never actually lived there. His father, who had grown up in San Francisco and left during the war, was pleased as punch to finally be returning ’home’. His mother, on the other hand, who had always been so proud of her pre-gold-rush San Francisco roots, was more reticent. Her career as a commanding officer’s wife was now over and she hadn’t even started looking for a new job. Since they were staying in a loft motel just off the bayshore freeway their first month back in California, there was no rush yet.

He and his older siblings were all happy to be there. The intimacy of family life in two small motel rooms with a kitchenette, the air conditioning, the swimming pool, coupled with the imminence of settling into a brand new house, and beginning a new school and made life seem secure, and exciting.