A/N: If you think any of the names sound familiar in this story, check back with "Sins of the Father" and you'll see why (smile). There was a nice little plot possibility in that one and I just couldn't resist it. I am still open to ideas, and fortunately I have a few more percolating, as well as some that have been sitting around waiting their turn for more than a year. As I mentioned, if you have an idea, drop me a line in a review, since FF refuses to send story alerts, review alerts or personal messages to my Juno account any longer. I'll respond via a PM and give you my e-mail so we can communicate from there (or if you're an "anonymous" reviewer, just give me your e-mail address and I'll write back). Meantime, happy reading!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

§ § § -- April 13, 2004

For some reason that Tuesday morning was overcast when Christian and Leslie let themselves into the lobby at the hospital, where their doctor and Leslie's OB-GYN both had their practices, and they were speculating idly on the possibility of rain before the day was out when Dr. Hannaford came out and smiled. "Six months and counting!" she said cheerfully, making the Enstads look up. "Come on back."

Once she had conducted her checkup and done the ultrasound—and discovered that now two babies were facing head down—Dr. Hannaford nodded in satisfaction. "You're doing just great, Mrs. Enstad," she said. "You're progressing so smoothly it's a dream, and you're coming through this with flying colors and very little more than the usual discomforts associated with being pregnant. I'd just advise you to try to deny your hunger a little bit. I know you'll lose a lot of your pregnancy weight after the triplets are born, especially since you're planning to nurse, but we don't want you gaining too much."

"It's hard," Leslie admitted. "I seem to be starving to death all the time, and Mariki's no help at all, any more than she ever was."

Christian grinned and pointed out, "You used to defy her constantly, didn't you, my Rose? Have you lost your taste for battle, or are you just too hungry to bother?"

Leslie and the doctor both laughed, and Leslie shrugged. "I guess being hungry just kills the combative spirit in me," she remarked playfully, making Christian chuckle.

"Are you sleeping okay?" Dr. Hannaford asked.

"I have a hard time falling asleep," Leslie said, "because the triplets always come alive when I get into bed, and start kicking me around as if I were a ball. Christian says he can see them making bumps on my gut now wherever their hands and feet flail around in there. Is there any way to make them stop?"

"Not really," Dr. Hannaford said sympathetically. "But you don't have to lie on your back all the time, you know. You really shouldn't anyway. Turn over on your left side and put a pillow between your knees. It may not slow down the little devils, but it might give you a little relief. Give it a try tonight."

Christian and Leslie both nodded; then Christian said, "Some friends of ours mentioned childbirth classes…will there be any here that we can take advantage of?"

"I'm so glad you asked. A colleague of mine is stationed on Coral Island and teaches a childbirth class twice a week, on Tuesday and Thursday nights. You should definitely take advantage of that, since I'm presuming you'll want to be there for your wife when she gives birth, Mr. Enstad."

"That I will," Christian said decisively. "Anything else we should know?"

"Relax and enjoy, that's it," said Dr. Hannaford and grinned. "You're doing so well, both of you, that you really impress me. Are you working on names?"

"We're trying to," said Leslie ironically, looking over at Christian, who rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "We can't really come up with anything right yet. I think what's killing us is that we have to come up with six names—three boys' names and three girls' names—so we have enough ready no matter whether it's all boys, all girls, or a mix."

Christian put in, "It seems all we've come up with are names we don't like, and we've also agreed that if there are boys, we'll have no juniors. I get suggestions from my employees, and I expect Leslie hears ideas from various and sundry sources as well."

"Invest in some name books," Dr. Hannaford said. "That should help. Okay, then, any other questions?" They had none, so she wished them a good day and sent them off.

On their way towards town Christian suddenly snapped his fingers. "Ah yes, one other thing," he said. "Not that this needed mentioning, I suppose, but just to be certain: we won't be naming any sons after our fathers."

"Yikes, no," Leslie said and shuddered. "Although I had thought about giving a boy Father's surname, like a middle name or something."

"Well, that's possible," Christian said, "but of course you realize I meant your biological father. No Michael or…or…" He hesitated.

"Roscoe," Leslie said, realizing what he was groping for. "Michael's middle name was Roscoe. I wouldn't have named a boy that anyway—sounds more like a dog's name to me, unfortunately. It brings to mind a big dog like a Saint Bernard or something."

Christian laughed. "I can picture that very well myself. Right, then…no Michael, no Roscoe, and certainly no Arnulf or Henrik or Justus."

Leslie looked at him in surprise. "Those were your father's other names?"

"Exactly so. Father was Arnulf Henrik Justus Enstad, and my late older brother was Arnulf Isak Felix. Father was usually called Ulf within the family, unless Mother was really furious with him; then she'd call him Arnulf and add the two middle names, just so we knew which one she meant." He chuckled softly, piloting the car into the town square and pulling into a space a few slots down from the entrance to the bookstore. "On that subject…have you thought of naming girls after our mothers? Shannon and Susanna?"

"That would be really cute if the twins are girls," Leslie mused. "But what if we have only one girl?"

"Then she could be Shannon Susanna," Christian said.

"I thought Susanna Shannon sounded better," Leslie said.

They looked at each other and both began to laugh. "Maybe we shouldn't bother naming the babies after anyone at all," Christian chortled, shaking his head. "Perhaps it's wisest to give them names all their own, the way Carl Johan and Anna-Laura, and Ceci, and Gerhard did. My only wish was to get away from using the name Anna again. It's overworked in the Enstad family, and I'd rather give it a rest."

"But it's part of the name Susanna," Leslie pointed out.

Christian paused, about to get out of the car. "I thought we weren't going to name a daughter after our mothers."

"I didn't completely nix it," Leslie said.

They looked at each other, snickered again, and Christian shook his head. "Before we make each other crazy, let's get into that bookstore and pick up some baby-name books. Perhaps they'll give us choices we never would have come up with on our own."

§ § § -- April 24, 2004

On their way to the plane dock a week and a half later to greet their guests, Roarke turned to Leslie and asked curiously, "How is the name-choosing coming along?"

"It's stuck in the mud," Leslie reported with a tolerant sigh. "Mostly we've agreed on what we don't want. How we're ever going to get this resolved, I have no idea."

Roarke smiled. "I expect that you'll agree on something in due time," he said with a touch of humor, "even if it isn't till the infants are born and you find yourselves forced to make last-minute choices." Laughing softly, they watched the scenery pass by, and at the dock Roarke parked and helped his daughter out of the front seat before they took up their usual places. Roarke motioned the plane dock band into action, called for smiles, and gave his attention to the plane, whose hatch was just opening. Out stepped a pretty brunette woman with shoulder-length hair in a pixie cut, clutching her purse to her side, dressed in a smart-looking pantsuit. She had an uncertain expression on her face and was peering at her surroundings in an almost cautious, yet hopeful, manner.

"It looks to me like this lady's fantasy means a lot to her," Leslie said.

"Indeed it does," said Roarke approvingly. "Her name is Mandy Enderling, and she lives in Carson City, Nevada."

Leslie studied the woman with a slight frown. "Her name sounds familiar."

"As well it might," Roarke agreed. "A few years ago her former husband, Scott Enderling, was on the island—the man who thought you might be his half-sister."

"That's right," Leslie remembered, brightening. "Christian and I had quite a little chat with him over lunch the Saturday he was here. He mentioned his ex-wife and how much it had hurt when she left him. So what's her fantasy, then?"

"She would like another chance with her former husband," Roarke told her.

Leslie blinked and thought back. "It's been almost three years since he was here," she said, "and he didn't say how long he'd been divorced. I wonder if he'll be receptive to her overtures, if she's really hoping to get him back."

"That, I doubt," Roarke said a little gravely. "You'll recall that Julie has been very busy this past week, preparing for a wedding. The wedding in question is that of the selfsame Scott Enderling and his fiancée, Ms. Rochelle Tolliver."

"Ohhh," mumbled Leslie, eyes widening. "I wonder how this one's going to end up!"

Roarke simply looked at her for a moment, raised his eyebrows briefly, then straightened and turned his attention to the next party. Leslie listened dutifully, but couldn't stop eyeing Mandy Enderling. She remembered what Scott Enderling had said on his previous visit to the island, that Mandy had been the love of his life, but that she hadn't been able to tolerate his all-but-obsessive search for his birth father. Obviously a lot of things had changed—for both Enderlings. Where was it all going to wind up?

‡ ‡ ‡

Mandy Enderling had a narrow, almost elfin face, though it wasn't unattractive; she was a little taller than Leslie and her voice carried the tones of one who was used to being in charge of things. Sure enough, when she sat down before Roarke's desk and glanced between him and Leslie for a moment, she remarked, "This feels weird to me, Mr. Roarke, this uncertainty. I own my own business and people look to me to lead. I've always had a lot of confidence…except about this."

Leslie wondered if she sensed that her ex-husband was involved with someone else, and glanced at Roarke, who cleared his throat and said gently, "If you are to win back your former husband, Ms. Enderling, you'll need all the self-confidence you can muster up: for he is preparing to remarry, this very weekend. Tomorrow, in fact."

Mandy sat up and gasped. "Tomorrow!?"

Leslie nodded sympathetically. "Afraid so, Ms. Enderling."

"And what's more," Roarke added, still speaking gently, "he is very much in love with his fiancée. Your presence here will be quite a shock to him, to say the very least."

Mandy bit her lip and stared at her hands, folded in her lap. Leslie noticed the fingers were intertwined and pulling at one another, a nervous habit she'd seen in many other guests in the past. Mandy, apparently becoming aware of the movements of her hands, pulled them apart and looked up at Roarke. "Well, I'm here for a reason, and I'm not going to back out now. When can I see Scott?"

"Perhaps in an hour or so, Ms. Enderling," Roarke suggested, "when you have been shown to your bungalow and you've had some time to rest and freshen up. That will also give you some time to think about what you'd like to say to him when you see him."

Mandy considered that, then nodded slowly, looking reluctant. "I suppose you've got a point, Mr. Roarke. It's just that…well, I'm impatient, maybe by nature. I don't want to waste a minute that I could be using to try to persuade Scott that I want him back."

"He was here about three years ago, looking for his birth father," said Leslie after a glance and a nod from Roarke. "For a while he thought my biological father might be it, and he presented himself as my possible half-brother. We had DNA testing done, and while we were waiting for the results, he and I got acquainted a little bit. He told me and my husband that he was divorced and that you didn't seem to 'get' his need to find his father."

Mandy shrugged self-consciously, looking regretful. "I thought he was obsessed," she admitted reluctantly. "He spent a lot of time going over and over a bunch of letters his mother had left him, trying to figure out some way he could locate Michael Hamilton." She paused and regarded Leslie with a curious expression on her face. "So are you Scott's half-sister? Did he find his real father after all?"

"He did," said Leslie, "but it turned out Michael Hamilton wasn't Scott's father. We tracked down a fellow in California who had been an exchange student in school with Scott's mother, and he turned out to be the one Scott was looking for." She cleared her throat. "The divorce was pretty fresh on his mind, I think, and he said he let you go because he could tell you were unhappy with him and he didn't want that for you."

Mandy winced and reddened. "I probably don't even deserve the chance to try to win him back," she mumbled, hanging her head. "I'm more selfish than Scott. He was always trying his darnedest to please me, and he kept giving in when I had to have my way, just to make sure things stayed okay between us. How he put up with me for so long, I don't know, but he was a saint." She looked up finally. "I guess what I really want is the chance to prove to him that I've changed—I've grown up since then. For the first year or so after the divorce, I thought I had it made. But no matter how much I dated, none of the guys ever really appealed to me on a deeper level, not the way Scott did when I was with him. By the time I'd been divorced two years, I was lonely, but not enough to admit that I made a mistake. Only in the last few months has the truth finally really come out. I still love him, and I want him back so bad. My house is empty without him."

Leslie tried to picture herself without Christian and instantly felt her heart skip a beat; it wasn't possible. Life without Christian would be unbearable, she knew. She could feel for Mandy. She compressed her lips and looked at Roarke when he inquired, "Was there a specific event that brought the realization home to you?"

"No, I guess not," Mandy murmured, eyes downcast again, "just a gradual coming-around. This loneliness, and missing Scott…well, it's gotten so bad that I decided I had to do something about it, instead of sitting around making useless wishes. The only way I'll ever get Scott back is to tell him I want him back. I mean, he won't get the idea through telepathy or something dopey like that. So I got off my duff, looked over my finances and decided I could afford a short vacation here…and this fantasy."

"You spent quite a bit of money to come here for this opportunity," Roarke noted.

"Well, if I get Scott back, it'll be worth every penny," Mandy said fervently.

Roarke smiled. "Very well," he said, "in that case, Leslie will take you to your bungalow, and you will have two hours in which to rest and consider what you'd like to say to Mr. Enderling. At eleven-thirty, Leslie will pick you up there and take you to see him."

"Wonderful," Mandy said, brightening with hope. "Thanks so much, Mr. Roarke. I'm really grateful for this chance."

"Not at all, Ms. Enderling. Good luck." Roarke smiled and watched Leslie escort Mandy out the door.

On the way to the bungalow Mandy kept eyeing Leslie till Leslie felt like a specimen under a microscope. After a little bit Leslie kidded, "I must look pretty funny wedging myself behind a steering wheel like this."

Mandy laughed, embarrassed. "Oh…I wasn't thinking about that at all. It was something else entirely. Although, since you mention it…when are you due?"

"Well, I don't know for sure," Leslie said. "I'm going to have triplets, so my doctor is planning a Caesarian, and she said she's going to do all she can to keep me pregnant as long as possible. But multiples always come early, so it could be tomorrow or two months from now. I'm about six and a half months along now."

"I see," said Mandy, wide-eyed. "Triplets! Wonder how your husband feels?"

"He was really stunned at first," Leslie said with a laugh, "but once he absorbed it, he took it like a trouper. We've finally started really discussing names, after my doctor said at my last appointment that I was doing terrific. Up till then, Christian had been so batty with worrying about every move I made, naming the babies was about the furthest thing from his mind. I think he's finally relaxed a little bit."

Mandy and Leslie both laughed; then Mandy sighed and remarked, "You and your husband must be madly in love. I can see how your eyes light up when you talk about him. So you'll understand how I feel about Scott. What I was actually thinking…couldn't you, well…maybe put in a good word for me, or something? I mean…you two know each other, he thought you might be his sister, maybe he'd…" Her voice trailed off.

Leslie smiled sympathetically. "I do love Christian, in a way I didn't know I could love any man. My life would be worthless without him. And I can understand your hopes to be presented to Scott in the best possible light. But the fact is, when you get down to it, the only one who can decide what he wants is Scott. I honestly don't think I could do any good even if I did step in. It's not like we're lifelong buddies because we thought we might have the same father at one point. He was one of our guests, like anybody else. For that matter, I haven't even seen him since he and his fiancée arrived here."

"Oh," mumbled Mandy, deflated. "So if I can't convince him on my own, then…"

Leslie held her silence, pulling up in front of the bungalow that had been assigned to Mandy and parking the car. Mandy sat for a moment staring at her feet, then drew herself up straight and gave Leslie a somewhat tremulous smile. "Mr. Roarke was right to have you bring me here. I guess I need to really think about what I'm going to tell Scott."

Leslie smiled back. "I wish you luck, Ms. Enderling…"

"Call me Mandy, please. I think we're probably close to the same age, and it seems awfully formal anyway. If I need any help…" Mandy paused, then ventured, "Would you be willing to make any suggestions?"

"I could try, I guess," Leslie said doubtfully, "but I think it's better that as much of this as possible comes from you, Mandy. You're the one who has to persuade Scott that he'd be better off taking you back than marrying this other woman. And I think it'd sound more convincing if it was all in your own words…you know?"

Mandy nodded faintly, slowly, absorbing this. "You have a point. But it might help if you could…oh, I don't know…suggest a different way of saying something. You see, I tend to be kind of blunt most of the time, at least with most people. I want to soften my approach, so Scott will see I've really changed."

Leslie considered that, then said, "Tell you what. You go ahead and work on whatever you want to tell Scott. Then maybe I could come over here to get you about half an hour earlier than Father suggested, and if there's something you think you need some help with, we could work on it then."

"Terrific," Mandy agreed immediately, lighting up with relief. "That'd be great, thanks so much, Leslie. I feel a little better now." She grinned, then swung out of the car and grabbed her luggage out of the back seat. "See you in a couple hours or so!"

Leslie watched her retreat into the bungalow and sighed to herself. What've you got yourself into now, Leslie Susan, you goofball? Wait till Christian hears that one! She sighed, rolled her eyes to herself and put the car in motion. Christian might laugh and take it in stride; but she wasn't as certain Roarke would take it so well.