be thankful for, Catherine. You’re beating the big C and you’re having an adventure. Your kids have their faults but at least they’re not on drugs or in jail. And you’ve got grandkids. Plus you have friends who care about you. That’s more than a lot of people can say.”
Of course Denise was right. “You’re such a good friend.”
“I certainly am.” Denise smiled and gave her a shoulder bump. “I’m one of the good things in your life.”
“One of the best,” Catherine said. Yes, she did have much for which to be grateful.
The plane landed and the weary travelers were met by a uniformed employee of the cruise line who was holding a red paddle. Like so many ducks, they followed her out of the airport and climbed onto buses, which then shuttled them from the airport into Amsterdam.
Catherine took in the charming old buildings, the seventeenth-and eighteenth-century canal houses, narrow and huddled close together, jutting up like teeth, the houseboats parked along the banks, the hordes of cyclists zipping along the streets in the nippy, drizzly air, and could hardly believe she was actually there.
“Pinch me,” she said.
“I would but I’m saving my pincher in case I meet a cute steward on board,” Denise quipped.
Their bus pulled up at the dock area and Catherine saw three river cruise ships from different lines, all lit up for the holidays. Theirs, the Heart of the Rhine, was the most elegant of all, glowing white with tiny white lights strung from stem to stern, poinsettias lining the entry off the gangplank. She felt like a little girl on Christmas morning as she followed Denise up the gangplank. Look what Santa brought!
The reception area inside with its check-in desk was as festive as the outside, decked with boughs of greenery embedded with silver ornaments. A Christmas tree decorated with gold-and-silver balls and ribbons sat to the side of a short flight of stairs leading to the next level. In front of it was a small table covered with a snowy white linen tablecloth, and on top of that sat a huge gingerbread house complete with candy stained-glass windows. In front of it ran a gingerbread train, with jam thumbprint cookie wheels. Looking up to the next level Catherine could see a cozy seating area and a small library off to one side and, toward the bow on both sides of the ship, two stations with fancy coffee machines, tea supplies and serving bins stocked with cookies.
Doors beyond that led to who knew what? She could hardly wait to explore and find out.
The ship was abuzz with people checking in, chatting, laughing, excited for their big adventure to begin. A troop of college students came in behind them, noisy and exuberant, shepherded by two men who looked to be somewhere in their thirties. Nice-looking young men, one of them wearing glasses and a tired smile. The other one standing next to a chatty, plain girl. He, too, wore a smile, but his looked a little strained.
Catherine had to chuckle, remembering how exhausting her two children had been when they were that age. The chuckle died. It wasn’t going to feel like Christmas without them.
But what was Christmas supposed to feel like, anyway? Did it have to be the same every year? And really, wasn’t the celebration about more than family?
She and Denise were given key cards for their room and pointed down the hall. Their bags would be delivered soon. Meanwhile, the ladies were welcome to enjoy a light repast up in the lounge at any time. Dinner would be served in the dining room at seven.
Their room was large enough for two single beds, a bathroom the size of Catherine’s shower at home and a closet. It had a counter running along the wall opposite the beds, which gave them a phone, a writing tablet and pen and plenty of plug-ins for a computer, iPad and cell phone. Under it were drawers for their clothes. Above it stood a long mirror, which reflected two smiling women, not young but not that old, either. Two women still young enough to enjoy life.
And Catherine intended to. A twenty-minute rest would be just what she needed to charge her batteries. They definitely needed charging. She was exhausted.
She sat on her bed and looked out the French window at their view of the bustling city. “This is perfect,” she said to Denise.
“Yes, it is,” Denise agreed. She smiled at Catherine. “I’m glad you came.”