The building that we entered at the port was full of large windows and looked extremely modern in appearance. There were masses of people once we entered. I guess everyone was getting on the same ship we were. Ben had mentioned that a ship like ours could contain between two thousand and six thousand passengers. It looked like they were all present!
Timothy wasn’t very good-natured about the multitudes. His scowl broke out, the corners of his mouth moving downward. On most people that look would have either scared people away or been thought ill-mannered, but Timothy merely looked younger and cuter somehow.
Terry set off, heading deeper into the building, with Daniel trailing behind after Timothy head-directed. I asked where they were going, but Timothy just said, “Preparing the way,” like he was a rock music star who needed the red carpet spread out in front of us. ( I teased him about it until Timothy broke out into that devastating smile of his that not only melted me, but caught the eyes of a couple of preteen girls standing with their parents. I thought one of them might swoon over Timothy’s grin.)
They were twins by the way, cute little blond ponytailed future cheerleaders, I would bet, and one of them placed her hand over her forehead and managed to sink into her chair in the most graceful and dramatic pseudo faint I’ve ever seen. The parents mostly ignored her, but the twin fanned her sister’s face, glancing back at Timothy as if she were observing a movie star.
Timothy probably didn’t even notice. His eyes were still scanning the mob of people, probably wondering if it was safe enough for us to weave our way through. I waited beside him, but I assumed that in the end, we’d just have to join the crowds smooshed between the long curving lines of yellow flagged poles that indicated where people needed to stand for their turn to board.
Not so. Daniel returned first, motioning us to step over to the right. Then Terry appeared with a dark blue uniformed official whose eyes were already pinpointing us inside the crush of people. The officer came directly towards us, put out his hand, and shook Timothy’s.
“Please follow me,” the man said. “We have a lounge you can wait in for your priority boarding.”
“We haven’t gone through check in,” Timothy said. “Don’t we need to do that first?”
“We’ll take care of you, Sir,” the officer said, then he glanced over at me. “Is this your lovely wife?”
Timothy apologized for not introducing me, but I was sure the officer already knew who I was. It was on the tickets Timothy had handed him, wasn’t it?
Terry, Daniel, Ben, Bob and the three of us . . . (including the very handsome older officer. I think someone like him is called a gray fox? Cara would have known. She was up on such designations.) Anyway, our whole group followed the officer who led us a distance to the right into an elegant room with a table full of pastries, juices, coffee, water, and assorted teas. It was nice inside with only about twenty people scattered about.
None of us had any appetite with all our anticipation over embarkation. Whoops, I spoke too soon. Bob lumbered over and stacked some bear claws on a plate, then grabbed a couple of orange juices. (Yes, totally impossible for most people to hold all that, but Bob’s hands were massive, and I watched as he gripped three plastic OJ’s plus a paper plate without spilling anything as he moved himself over to a small table beside a stiff plastic chair.)