“Which we need to do right now,” a guy with Indina’s hazel-colored eyes said. He held his hand out to him. “I’m Harrison; her brother,” he said, tilting his head toward Indina. “Glad to have you on board.”
“Thanks,” Griffin said.
“Okay, let’s get going,” Harrison said.
Several of her family members came over to greet him as they all made their way toward the security line. Their smiles seemed genuine, if a bit curious.
This was going better than Griffin had expected. Maybe it was a good thing he’d arrived at the last minute. It didn’t leave much time for Indina’s family to question the new guy. Of course, he would be on a cruise ship with them for three days. There would be plenty time for questions.
One guy, who looked as if he ate linebackers for lunch, introduced himself as Indina’s baby brother, Reid.
“So, how do you know Dennie?” Reid ask as he hefted his bag onto the conveyor belt.
“We’re coworkers,” Griffin answered.
“Coworkers, huh? What kind of work do you do?”
“None of your business,” Indina interjected. “And if you call me Dennie again I’m going to hurt you.”
“I was just trying to make conversation,” Reid said. “Stop being so damn testy.”
“Stop being so damn nosy.”
“Okay, what are we fighting about now?” An older gentleman stepped up to where they’d gathered just past the security checkpoint.
“Indina’s being her old mean self again,” Reid said.
“And this one is being a pest, as usual,” Indina returned.
“Neither of you are too old for timeout,” the man, who must have been Indina’s dad, said.
“Old man, stop pretending you know anything about timeout,” Reid said. He hooked a thumb toward his father. “This one gave more whippings than anyone else on the block.”
“And I’m sure if I looked hard enough I could find a switch for you right now,” he said.
Indina burst out laughing. “Griffin, this is my dad, Clark Holmes. Dad, this is my coworker, Griffin Sims.” She gave her father a kiss on the cheek. “And, for the record, I never once got a whipping.”
Reid grunted as he moved toward the front of the line of Holmeses preparing to board the ship.
If not for the head of gray hair, Griffin would have thought Clark Holmes was too young to have a daughter in her forties. He was solidly built, with muscles that bunched underneath the sleeves of his polo shirt, much like his two sons Griffin had met already this afternoon.
He took Clark’s proffered hand and noted the strength in his grip.
“Nice to meet you,” the older man said. “Happy to have you along for the reunion.” With that, Indina’s father continued on with the rest of the family as they made their way across a Plexiglas-enclosed gangway.
Griffin caught the hem of Indina’s shirt and tugged, stunting her progress.
She looked back at him with a frown. “What?”
“Did anyone in your family even know I was coming along?” Griffin whispered.
“Uh, no,” she said. “Well, my brother, Harrison, knew I was bringing someone. He just didn’t know who.”
“You didn’t think it would be better to let everyone know in advance?”
“Do you see how many people are here? There’s twenty-five total, not including the two of us. How was I even supposed to let them know?”
“Email?” he suggested with a shrug. “Or maybe an old-fashioned phone call?”
Indina snorted. “Yeah, right. Look, just relax and enjoy the weekend. Well, as much as you can relax around this crew. Watch what you say. My family can be a bit…well…nosy.”
“Oh, nice,” he said.
“It’ll be fine.” Indina grabbed his arm and pulled him along. “Come on. According to my cousin, Toby, there’s a huge buffet as soon as we board the ship. I skipped breakfast this morning and I am starving.”
They filed onto the ship, and were directed to the lido deck, which did indeed have the biggest buffet Griffin had ever seen in his thirty-eight years on planet Earth. He loaded his plate with peel-and-eat shrimp, and settled at one of the four tables Indina’s cousins managed to commandeer for them. An older woman, who’d introduced herself as Indina’s Aunt Margo, sat at the table with them. She explained that she was a Holmes by marriage, having been married to Indina’s late uncle, Wesley.
A few minutes later, a man Griffin recognized, but couldn’t quite place, set a plate in front of Margo and took the seat next to her. She introduced him as her husband, Gerald Mitchell, and the light bulb in Griffin’s head instantly went off. Gerald Mitchell was one of the top lawyers in New Orleans. He frequently appeared on the local evening news whenever there was a high-profile case that warranted commentary.
As they ate, they chatted about the upcoming football season, debating the Saints’ chances of making it to the playoffs. Griffin learned soon after moving to New Orleans seven years ago that Saints football was a topic of utmost importance, and that everyone had an opinion on it.
He eyed the buffet stations, but after all the shrimp he’d just inhaled, Griffin knew he wouldn’t be able to fit in anything else. Indina’s younger brother didn’t seem to have that problem. Griffin stopped counting after Reid’s third visit to the buffet. He figured the guy either hit the gym hard or worked a job that required manual labor, because he didn’t carry an ounce of flab.
When they were almost done with the meal, Harrison Holmes stood and addressed the entire clan.
“The luggage won’t be delivered until after the muster, which is mandatory. This is where they give us instructions on what to do in case of emergency.”
“Is the ship going to sink?” a little girl with braids down to the middle of her back asked.
“No, Zoey. I promise we won’t sink,” Harrison said. “Your muster point should be on the front of your door key. I think we’re all in Section J, except for Indina and her friend, since they were added on at the last minute.”
Griffin noticed a few more curious
