Harrison showed us how to open our rooms with the pass medallions we all wore around our necks. Bob and Terry got to enter their room first. They were on our right side. Ben and Daniel got the room on the other side of us. We left the men to their perusal of the rooms and prepared to get acquainted with where Timothy and I were going to nest during the cruise.
I can’t begin to tell you what our “cabin” was like! I’d seen examples of the simple bed, tv, and if you were lucky (or paid extra) the window out to sea that people were given in most cruise cabins. The ladies at work had often scattered cruise brochures across the table in the lunch area for us all to moan and sigh over. This was nothing like that! Our suite with multiple rooms was like a floating mansion.
For one thing, our room was two-storied. We had a white piano on the lower floor, a living room as if we’d be doing entertaining onboard, and even a spare bedroom.
“That’s for when you kick me out of the bed telling me I’m snoring,” Timothy whispered.
Ignoring the remark, Harrison introduced us to our cabin steward, then gave us a quick bow, and wished us well.
Our steward, Phelon, standing in the center of the room with fresh white towels dangling from his arms, called himself our twenty-four hour butler. He said that he would be providing anything we needed or wanted. (I wanted to ask him if he could bring us a cute little tuxedo kitten, but I knew to keep my mouth shut.)
Phelon gave us a quick head bob, then guided us about the suite. The man was petit, thin, and full of smiles. I couldn’t help grinning back at him as he spoke with a heavy accent that told me that English wasn’t his native language.
Phelon was wearing a dark jacket that had gold piping. No stripes for him and no fancy epaulets. His eyes looked kind, and I could see that he was earnest about winning our favor by satisfying our every wish.
“Will you be Bob and Terry’s butler too? And Ben and Daniel on the other side of us?” I asked.
Phelon looked confused a moment, then said. “Only you, but I will take messages to your brothers if you like.”
We didn’t correct him about the relationship. It was better if Phelon didn’t know the men were our guards. At least that’s what Timothy had told us all earlier.
Phelon took the towels he was holding into the bathroom and returned with an offer to open up our champagne. Apparently chilled bubbly was a custom passengers received whenever they were setting off to sea. Our bottle was sitting in a bucket of ice, and two delicate crystal goblets were waiting on the table, ready for our pleasure.
Besides them were some fancy cookies – not the kind from boxes, but fresh from the ship’s oven, I presumed. We had a small platter with strawberries dipped in chocolate, too, as well as a fruit bowl with red, delicious apples, kiwi, bananas, grapes, and pears.