A/N: Something with a twist this time around. If you think this one is unusual, wait till the next one! Don't want to get too far ahead of myself, though…so dive in and let me know what you think.
§ § § - October 14, 2000
"What is with you?" demanded Camille Omamara of a very nervous Myeko Sensei. They stood in the vestibule of a little church on the outskirts of Amberville, waiting for the service to begin. "You better not back out now, after all this effort we made decorating the place and finding you the right dress and even getting Nick's mom out here."
"And especially after I introduced you to Nick in the first place," Leslie put in, "and all the trouble it got me into with Father!"
Myeko narrowed her eyes and shot them both annoyed glares. "You've both gotten married. You know it's bridal nerves. Not only that, but I still haven't actually met Nick's mother! She couldn't get out here till today, and every one of you knows good and well that I was busy this morning with getting dressed and having my hair and makeup done and all that other hooey. What if she thinks I'm not good enough for her son?"
"Seems to me you'd've heard about it by now if that were true," said Myeko's twenty-five-year-old sister, Sayuri, her maid of honor. "Don't you think so, sis?"
Myeko thought about it, shrugged, then frowned again. "She could always change her mind once she gets a good look at me."
Camille, Sayuri, Leslie and Maureen—the third bridesmaid—looked at one another in exasperation. "Maybe I should check and see if the minister's ready yet," Maureen said, "so we can get her married to poor Nick before she totally chickens out."
"How about this," Leslie said, suddenly inspired. "If you don't go down that aisle and marry Nick when it's time, I'll fill your entire house with flies. And believe me, I can do it. I have resources. After you insisted I grant you that fantasy back in July, you can bet Father'll be on my side, and he'll know where to get the flies, too."
Myeko gawked at her while Sayuri began snickering. Maureen and Camille were both wearing wide grins. "Leslie Hamilton, you wouldn't dare," Myeko protested.
"Wanna try me?" Leslie challenged her.
"I'll tell Christian on you," Myeko said weakly.
"Christian'll get a huge laugh out of it," Leslie returned without hesitation. "Yes or no? Are you going down that aisle, or do we have to throw you down it?"
That sent Sayuri into gales of laughter. "You better give up, sis," she chortled. "Camille and Maureen and I'll help Leslie pick you up and give you the heave-ho."
"That's right," said Camille, and Maureen nodded.
Myeko sighed. "Well, I just hope Nick's mom's a good sport, that's all. Why don't you guys find somebody else to pick on."
"Mommy, I'm ready!" called an excited voice, and six-year-old Noelle Tokita skipped out of the hallway beside the entrance, with Junko Sensei behind her. Noelle was the flower girl and was dressed accordingly, down to a flower wreath atop her head and even a daisy stuck in the scrunchy that held her braid together. "I can't wait!" Her bright black eyes filled suddenly with worry. "Mommy, does this mean I still have to go to Daddy's house after you and Daddy Nick get married?"
Myeko cast her surprised mother an equally surprised glance, then said, "Well, it's in the agreement. You and Alexander are supposed to spend one weekend with Daddy every month. Daddy'd miss you if you didn't go."
"No, he wouldn't," said Noelle. "When me and Alexander went there last time, all he did was play with the baby. Mommy, they have two boys now. I'm tired of being the only girl and I don't wanna go there anymore. I'd rather stay and help Daddy Nick take care of all the animals."
Inside the church they heard organ music swell up, and Myeko sighed. "Well, we'll have to talk about that later, Noelle. It's almost time for you to go down the aisle. Where's your basket of flowers?" Myeko was going all out with this wedding; she and all her friends had memories of Toki's insistence on marrying her in Amberville's town hall with only one witness, and she was determined to start off her second marriage in proper fashion. Nick had been in indulgent agreement with her, saying that he intended this to be a once-in-a-lifetime event for him and he too would feel better if it was done right.
Noelle, successfully distracted, turned to Junko. "Gramma, I left my basket in the bathroom!" she exclaimed, wide-eyed.
"Stay there, sweetie, I'll go and get it," Junko promised. She hesitated long enough to cast a quick glance out the door in the gathering dusk and gave a sigh of relief. "Thank heavens, here comes Tadashi finally."
"Good," said Sayuri. "Now we won't have to throw Myeko down the aisle after all."
"What?" said Junko, eyeing her younger daughter with suspicious confusion.
"Just an inside joke, Mrs. Sensei," Leslie said, stifling a giggle. "Quick, get Noelle's basket so we can get started. Myeko's threatening to chicken out simply because she still hasn't met Mrs. Okada and thinks she'll object to the wedding."
Junko groaned. "Oh dear. Wait a minute." She ducked back down the hallway, and Noelle peered at Myeko in bewilderment.
"Mommy, is that Daddy Nick's mommy? She has to like you, or I'm not going to call her Gramma," Noelle announced.
Myeko grinned, looking slightly hysterical. Before she could speak, Tadashi Sensei came in and greeted the girls, chuckling when his granddaughter tugged at his tuxedo jacket and demanded an assessment of how she looked. "You're beautiful, little flower, trust me. What happened to Alexander? He was just behind me…" The boy had been tapped to be the ring bearer, but had shown enormous reluctance to get dressed up for the occasion.
Junko emerged from the hallway with impeccable timing. "I imagine he's looking for someplace to hide," she said, handing Noelle her basket of flower petals.
"I'll go get him," Sayuri said. "I'm last in the procession anyway, so I have a couple extra minutes." She ducked out the door to chase down her nephew.
Maureen sneaked another peek through the interior doors. "I think this is our cue," she said. "It looks like everyone's seated, and the minister's standing up there talking with Nick and the best man. Camille, Leslie, ready?"
"As we'll ever be," said Camille, grinning. "Chin up, Myeko. We'll get Alexander in here with the rings, and get you safely married to Nick, and we'll make sure Mrs. Okada thinks you're the salt of the earth. Just get down the aisle already."
"I'll see to it that you do," Tadashi said, smiling at Myeko. "It would be a crime to leave Nicholas standing at the altar like that."
Myeko sighed. "You're right, Dad, you're right. Well, come on, let's get this thing on the road before I try to weasel out of it yet again." Junko laughed, kissed her daughter's cheek and hurried ahead of the others to take her seat up front. Noelle, looking excited enough to explode, trailed her grandmother at a near skip, enthusiastically littering the aisle with multicolored petals. Camille followed her a moment later at a much more sedate pace; Maureen counted off five seconds and followed. Leslie cast one last anxious glance out the door and was rewarded by the sight of Sayuri and Alexander, the latter bearing a small silver tray covered with a velvet cloth with Nick's and Myeko's wedding rings lying atop it.
"Your role lasts five minutes, Alexander," Sayuri said, "so I think you'll live." Leslie grinned, turned and followed Maureen down the aisle.
Behind Leslie, Tadashi and Myeko came along, daughter's arm in father's, with Sayuri just behind them keeping track of Myeko's long veil. When Tadashi handed Myeko over to Nick, she seemed to relax and gave Nick a blinding smile of relief, almost forgetting to turn over her bouquet to Sayuri. After that, the ceremony progressed smoothly, and fifteen minutes later Dr. and Mrs. Nick Okada burst out of the church followed by their assorted attendants, family and guests.
The bridesmaids and Nick's attendants hung back, letting the wedding guests shower the couple with confetti and flower petals, and Leslie suddenly grew slightly pensive. With Myeko married, she was now the only single one left in their group, and once again had an aching yearning for Christian.
Maureen glanced at her, then looked again and saw her expression. "Missing Christian?" she guessed.
Leslie nodded. "He was hoping to get out here this month or next month to check up on his branch here, but it turns out his nephew Gerhard is getting married in two weeks, and then next month he has to be there for his niece Cecilia's wedding. And you know Arnulf—any excuse to throw more meaningless royal 'duties' at Christian. Actually, he's got roles in both weddings, from what he tells me. Gerhard asked him to be his best man, and Cecilia wants him to give her away since her father's dead. How could he say no?…and how could I resent his being there for them?"
"Are these weddings taking up the entire month, that he can't get out here in between and visit you?" Maureen asked.
"Oh, they're royal weddings. Pomp and circumstance all the way. Every frill and detail there is, they'll use. Christian mailed me a copy of a British magazine article whose sole reason for existence was to describe Cecilia's wedding dress in excruciating detail. Just as an afterthought, it identified the bride, the groom, the bride's mother and late father, the maid of honor, the best man and the man who's giving her away." Leslie rolled her eyes, and Maureen laughed.
"I can't imagine having to live that kind of life. I bet Christian's dying for the day he can quit being a prince and come here and marry you. What about you, though? Couldn't you go and visit him? You've been to Lilla Jordsö only the once, and that was way before you and Christian even met. He'd probably be thrilled to see you."
"I'd go in a heartbeat, but Christian and I talked it over once a long time ago and thought it was better I didn't. It's just too close to home, if you get my drift. It's Arnulf's turf, and ever since Marina read Arnulf the riot act last spring, he's actually cracked down a little more on poor Christian. Myeko said it once—whatever Marina told him evidently went in one ear and out the other. He sent Christian to Australia and New Zealand in the summer, and then in September made him attend some fussy function or other somewhere in eastern Europe as the representative of Lilla Jordsö's royal family, and…"
"I get it, I get it. Holy cow. What the heck does Arnulf have against Christian anyway? I mean, it sounds to me like he hates him."
"I don't know," Leslie said helplessly. "If Arnulf knows, he isn't saying, and Christian has no clue. Maybe it's just that he thinks Christian's not 'princely' enough, or something. I mean, I remember when Christian first came here and Father and I initially found out he was a prince. He said that, being the youngest, he tends to live more of a private life than his siblings, and he was told he had to make his own way. You usually never see royals going out and holding down jobs like regular peons, and that might have helped cement his popularity with the people. Anna-Kristina told me Arnulf and Carl Johan and Anna-Laura—his sister and other brother—are kind of dour and reserved, and seem cool and distant to the people, while Christian is warmer and more open, more reachable. He seems to know how to connect to people. So maybe it's just a case of infantile jealousy."
Maureen shook her head in disbelief. "Geez. Well, maybe he can break away for New Year's, like he did last year."
"Who knows. I bet Arnulf will find some way to keep him busy so he can't," Leslie said gloomily. "Look, why don't we just get to the reception hall so we can change out of these dresses and start the party. Thinking of Christian just makes me want to cry for missing him, and thinking of Arnulf makes me want to commit murder."
Maureen laughed and said, "Well, in that case, before you land in some dank dungeon under Christian's brother's castle, let's get you over there and have some fun."
§ § § - October 28, 2000
Their first guests that Saturday morning, a newlywed couple, reminded Leslie of Nick and Myeko, still honeymooning in Samoa and taking the opportunity to visit Myeko's brothers while they were there. In this case, though, the husband and wife were in their late fifties and both had grown children—who couldn't stand each other and stood in two separate and very hostile camps. It was the couple's hope to find some way to at least have their respective offspring get along, if not actually like one another. But it was the other fantasy that really got Leslie's attention. "A teenager?" she asked, watching the slim blond boy step out of the seaplane's hatch with a face full of hope.
Roarke smiled. "He's not here alone, Leslie," he said, "but he does have a fantasy. His name is Kyle Satterfield, and he's sixteen years old. Behind him you see his mother, Bonnie, and his twelve-year-old brother, Zachary."
"Where's his dad?" Leslie asked. "I mean, it looks like a family vacation. Mrs. Satterfield must be divorced or widowed."
"No, she isn't divorced…and she's not exactly widowed, at least not officially," Roarke said slowly, watching while the three collected leis and Zachary shrank back in disgust from the kiss on the cheek a native girl tried to give him. "Eric Satterfield vanished five years ago, and since then not a trace has been found of him. As I understand it, he walked outside their home in rural Almeria, Nebraska, one evening to be certain everything was secure for the night, and simply never came back. There was not a single clue of any kind left behind to suggest an explanation for his disappearance." He hesitated, his expression keeping Leslie silent for the moment, and narrowed his eyes slightly with…confusion? skepticism? It was hard to tell. "However," Roarke finally continued, his words measured and deliberate, "Kyle is convinced he knows exactly what happened to his father, and thus his fantasy."
"Which is what?" Leslie prompted when Roarke fell silent.
It took him several long seconds to reply, and when he did, she wasn't sure she had heard him correctly. "He wishes to see a…UFO…and those who occupy it."
"A UFO?" Leslie echoed, mystified. "What's seeing a UFO got to do with Mr. Satterfield's vanishing act?"
"Kyle insists that he saw his father picked up by one," said Roarke simply. And on Leslie's stunned stare, he raised his glass and gave the familiar weekly greeting, his voice warm and welcoming as ever, but something incomprehensible in his dark eyes.