Page 39 of The Vacation Mix-Up
Despite how annoying he can be, I consider asking if he wants to sightsee together, but he probably doesn’t. Like me, he planned to cruise solo, so I’m guessing he won’t want company.
“Where are you headed to first?” he asks as we make our way out of the restaurant.
“St. Mary’s Basilica.”
“Me too.”
I snap my head at him. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you Catholic?”
“No. I just like cathedrals. I appreciate the architecture and design.”
I stop at the elevator, but Riley turns toward the stairs, so I follow, curious about his answer to the question I want to ask next. “What do you do for a living?”
“Third generation carpenter. I have my own furniture business. I do restorations and build things from scratch.”
“Like what?” I ask, holding onto the handrail as we descend the stairs.
“Chairs, tables, cabinets… one-of-a-kind pieces. You know, furniture that tells a story.”
My steps pause at his lovely words. “Wow! That’s… impressive.”
He smirks. “You sound shocked.”
“No.” I continue down the steps, finding myself eagerly chasing him. “I’m not shocked. I mean, I figured you’d be a laborer of sorts, given your size and build.”
“My size and build?”
I blush. “You’re not exactly Danny DeVito.”
“But?”
We step off the last flight of stairs and head toward the gangway. “No buts. I’m just impressed with how you described what you do, that you want your art to tell a story.”
For the first time since meeting Riley, his entire face lights up. Not with mock humor at my expense, but with genuine joy, and I can’t deny it’s endearing.
“May I have your sailing cards please?” a crew member in charge of letting passengers off the ship asks.
We remove our lanyards for him to scan, and he does just that.
“Ship leaves at five on the dot.” He hands them back. “Don’t be late. The captain waits for no one.”
I recoil. “Really?”
“Yes. Unless you’re on a shore excursion you booked through the ship and your whole group has been held up. We’d either wait,if it won’t be long, or we’d set up transportation for your group to meet us at the next port. Happens more than you think.”
I hang my lanyard around my neck and follow Riley down the ramp and onto the dock. “The ship leaves you behind if you’re late? Holy crap! How awful.”
“Why should three-thousand-plus passengers and crew be delayed from sailing just because some idiot lost track of time?”
“Because said idiot might end up being you or me, by accident. We’d be stranded, and that’s… that’s the stuff of nightmares.”
The pit of my stomach drops, and my knees nearly buckle. What if I’m stuck on land, and Mom is locked in the safe and sets sail without me?
Should I go back and get her? Would they even let me take her off the ship?
