Page 5 of The Vacation Mix-Up
“Oh. Thank you.”
Once again hugging my bag to my chest, I shuffle forward, cross the gangway onto the ship, and enter the lobby.
Brass rails glitter under slightly dimmed lights, a myriad of crew in white uniforms together with passengers scuttling about. I step out of their way and tilt my head way back. “Wow!” I whisper, exhaling as I slowly turn in a circle, absorbing the extravagance of the grand atrium and the glass elevators moving between various decks.
“Can I direct you to your cabin?” a steward asks.
My cheeks stretch, excitement over my expedition finally hitting me for the first time. “Yes, please. I’m bound to take a wrong turn. This ship is colossal!”
“Don’t worry,” he assures me. “You’ll find your way around quicker than you think.”
“I hope so.” I show him the card on my lanyard, seeing also for the first time that it has my photo and all sorts of other information on it.
“You’re on Deck Ten, midship.” He points to his left. “Headtoward the stern to the elevators opposite Guest Services. When you step out, turn right into the corridor. Your cabin is port side.”
“Which side is port side?”
He chuckles. “It’s the left side of the ship when facing forward. Starboard is the right side.”
“Port is left, starboard is right,” I mutter to myself.
He kindly pats my shoulder. “Enjoy your cruise.”
Heading in the direction he instructed, I make it all the way to my cabin, slide my cruise card into the lock, and push the door open, straining under its solid weight as I enter the room.
This is nice—quaint,but not too quaint.
Desperate to see the view from the balcony, I gently place my bag on the perfectly made, queen-sized bed and then step outside, taking in the Lower Manhattan skyline across the bay. The air no longer smells of fish and apprehension. Well, maybe a little fishy still, but it’s more fish and liberation now, which is ironic considering the stony presence of Lady Liberty in the distance.
“Oh, Momma,” I say, blinking back tears as I grip the balcony railing. “I wish you were here with me.”
Time is a delicacy we take for granted, and I’d give anything to wind it back and share this trip with her. To go on an adventure and see the world with her by my side, laughing, conversing… living. In a morbid way, she will be with me, but it’s not the same. She won’t see a glacier or eat at a patisserie in Paris. She won’t hear the chime of Big Ben or potentially see the Northern Lights.
She won’t experience the slices of life pie she insisted I devour.
Wiping my damp cheeks, I will myself to stop crying. Mom wouldn’t want me to be sad. Her hopes and aspirations were for this trip to be a happy one—for me to step outside of my work bubble and see the world. And at the very least, I owe it to her to try and achieve that.
“Okay, Riley.” I fan my face. “No more tears. You’re here. You’re ready. You’re going to have an amazing time.”
Nodding, more to myself than to Lady Liberty, I hear thesound of a toilet flushing, followed by a door opening and then closing behind me. A chill stiffens my spine, so I spin on my heel, swipe the curtain aside, and step into the cabin… coming face to face with the tattooed stranger from check-in.
“What are you doing in my cabin?” I yell. “Get out!”
chapter two
OTHER RILEY
The woman from check-in screams at me, and I almost crap my pants.
“Yourcabin?” I scratch the back of my head, confused. “This isn’t your cabin. It’s mine.”
“No, you’re wrong.” She glares at me, snatches up her lanyard from the bed, and shoves her sailing card into my face. “Room 10143. See? Now, get out!”
I study the details, almost going cross-eyed because she’s practically rammed the card up my nose.
Riley Wilson. 10143.
I’ll be damned.
