A/N: "The Wedding" has always been one of my very favorite Fantasy Island episodes. Sometimes, when I'm in the right mood, Mr. Roarke's grief over Helena's death can still make me cry! This is a slightly AU "novelization" treatment of this episode and the one that immediately followed it, "The Handyman / Tattoo's Romance" which was first shown on November 10, 1979 (I've concentrated on the second story arc only). Not all the scenes in either episode are included herein, but I've added a few original ones of my own to help flesh out the story a little bit and link the two episodes together. Thanks as ever for the enthusiastic and always-welcome feedback from Harry2 and jtbwriter, and my thanks as well to all other readers and reviewers. I hope you'll enjoy this.
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§ § § -- June 2, 1999
On a quiet and very uneventful Wednesday morning, Roarke and Leslie were a little surprised by a knock on the door. Roarke called out, "Come in," and was rewarded by the entrance of a handsome black-haired young man with a lovely woman at his side.
"Hi, Mr. Roarke, we thought we'd surprise you!" he said with a mischievous grin.
Leslie stared and Roarke stood up in astonishment. "Jamie, can that really be you? You look so little like the boy I remember!" he exclaimed.
Jamie Marsh laughed. "I should hope I've changed—I'm almost 31!" He and Roarke clasped hands, shaking vigorously; then Jamie noticed Leslie. "You're kidding! Leslie, you're here for the wedding?"
"I've always been here, silly," Leslie teased, getting up and happily accepting Jamie's hug. "Welcome back! So introduce us to your fiancée already, before she thinks you forgot all about her."
Jamie laughed again. "I've known her for years, but it wasn't till fairly recently that we decided it was time we got married. Meet Pavithra Joshi…and dearest, this is my stepfather, Mr. Roarke, and his ward, Leslie Hamilton."
"His daughter, in fact," Roarke corrected with a smile. "So I think you can introduce Leslie as your stepsister now."
"Well, that's a surprise!" Jamie observed with interest, glancing back and forth between Roarke and Leslie. "Guess I've missed out on everything since I left here, huh?"
"And how! Maybe if you'd kept in touch, we could have had you up to speed all these years," Leslie remarked good-naturedly. "As it is, I think we're in for a long chat session."
"Perhaps over dinner would be best. I'm sure Jamie and Pavithra are tired from their travels and would welcome the chance to relax. I'll have my goddaughter Julie set aside a room for you in her bed-and-breakfast inn; Leslie can take you there, and then you can take the afternoon for yourselves," Roarke suggested.
Leslie added, "Then you can join us for dinner about five-thirty."
Jamie nodded enthusiastically and said, "Sounds great! In that case, let's go."
Jamie and Pavithra did appear for the evening meal and were introduced to Mariki, who nodded with recognition. "I remember you, Master Jamie. Welcome back."
Jamie nodded his thanks, waited till she'd served the meal and then regarded his stepfather and stepsister. "Okay, so spill it. What's been happening on this island? Pavithra and I walked around and I noticed a lot of changes, and I started wondering if we were really on Fantasy Island after all." He grinned.
Roarke and Leslie laughed and took turns summarizing all the relevant events and changes, including the changes in the island itself; Leslie's adoption, marriage, widowhood, return and hiring as Roarke's assistant; Tattoo's passing; and many other things. Jamie listened raptly and expressed his sorrow about Tattoo as well as his sympathies at Leslie's loss of Teppo, and then again when he heard the story of her thwarted romance with Christian. He nodded in impressed surprise at Roarke's rundown of the various buildings and services that had been added, and sat back with a loud "whew!" when they had finished. "Incredible!"
"So much happens here," observed Pavithra in a soft musical accent. "But I've always had a question, and Jamie always had trouble answering it. How, Mr. Roarke, did you come to be Jamie's stepfather? He rarely talks about that time in his life, and if it comes up, he finds a way to quickly change the subject."
Jamie reddened a bit and confessed, "It's hard for me to talk about…but I thought coming here might help. I was hoping you two could help fill in the story and give Pavithra an idea of what Mom was like."
Roarke's reminiscent smile held a touch of sadness. "We'll be happy to, Jamie," he reassured his stepson. "Why don't we make ourselves comfortable in my study, and we'll go on from there."
Fifteen minutes later, seated in a cozy grouping around the tea table that had been there since Lawrence's tenure and fortified with a supply of tea and Leslie's favorite sangria, they began the story for a fascinated Pavithra…
§ § § -- November 3, 1979
Roarke stepped out the front door on a balmy Saturday morning and paused long enough to allow Leslie to accompany him out. They stopped at the end of the porch, where they were met by a disgruntled-looking Tattoo. "Good morning, boss," said the diminutive Frenchman with a faintly annoyed air about him.
"Good morning, Tattoo! Ah, isn't it a glorious day," said Roarke expansively, scanning the sky. Leslie looked up too, but as far as she was concerned, it was no different from any other sunny Saturday on the island.
Tattoo said skeptically, "If you say so." Roarke and Leslie looked at him askance, then stared at Chester the Chimp as he vaulted up the steps toward Tattoo. "Sit," Tattoo ordered curtly. Chester bared his teeth at them all.
"He's a little late for Halloween," Leslie observed with a grin.
"Yes, I'd say so," Roarke agreed. "Tattoo, why on earth is Chester dressed like a convict?" The mischievous chimp was clad in a zebra-striped jumpsuit and hat, and toted what looked like a lightweight plastic ball on a short metal chain.
Tattoo shot Chester one contemptuous look and said, "Because he's a thief. And by dressing him in a thief's outfit, I'm trying to teach him how not to steal."
"But Tattoo, Chester is only a chimpanzee," Roarke protested.
"I know that, boss," said Tattoo, "but you remember last year, when I taught him how to play checkers, and he beat everybody on the island? Right?" Leslie's eyes widened in disbelief: a chimp that could play checkers? Tattoo caught her expression and nodded.
"Right," Roarke confirmed, "and I am fully ready to admit that you are a wonderful teacher—" here Tattoo smirked with appreciation— "and Chester is a very clever animal." Tattoo's smile shifted into a scowl and a faint sneer in the chimp's direction, evoking another grin from Leslie. "But the point is," Roarke went on, "he is an animal, and checkers is a game. The sense of right and wrong is an abstract, Tattoo—a thought process far beyond his capabilities. Consequently, he could never grasp that concept, which means that he could never really be a thief! Don't you see?"
Tattoo and Leslie looked at each other, both slightly confused by Roarke's explanation; then Tattoo protested, "But boss—even when he steals my car every night?"
"Oh, he's merely having fun," said Roarke indulgently.
Tattoo thought about it. "Well, maybe you're right," he mused. "Maybe I shouldn't be so upset that he stole your beautiful ivory chess set last night…"
Leslie's eyes widened with apprehension, and she slid her gaze toward Roarke, whose own attention was rudely jarred back from his contemplation of the weather. Slowly he turned to Tattoo and asked, "He did what?"
"I found a couple of pieces in his room," Tattoo said apologetically, "and I think he ate a couple of them."
Roarke looked outraged. "Why, that dirty little thief!" As if afraid of Roarke's impending wrath, Chester grabbed the ball and chain and loped off the porch, with a couple of guilty glances at Roarke that made Leslie giggle aloud.
"Boss, he's stealing the ball and chain!" Tattoo cried. "Should I go after him?"
But Roarke's gaze had strayed skyward again and he shook his head. "No, later, Tattoo, later. We don't want to be late for the plane…not today." Tattoo peered quizzically at the sky, then at Roarke, then at Leslie, who shrugged. The car came up and they all went down the walk to meet it.
At the plane dock Tattoo remarked, "Boss, I'm sure anxious to know who's coming today."
"Me too," said Leslie. "I've never seen you watch the sky so much!"
Roarke surveyed his assistant and his ward. "Oh? Why do you say that?"
"Because all week long, you've been so excited," Tattoo said, with Leslie's emphatic nod backing him up. "There must be somebody very special on that plane." At that exact moment they heard the hatchway door pop open, and their attention was drawn to the seaplane. A black-haired boy a little younger than Leslie stepped out, followed by a slender chestnut-haired woman. Tattoo stood up straight and exclaimed, "Boss, that's Mrs. Marsh and her son Jamie!"
"Indeed it is," murmured Roarke, unexpectedly losing himself in a wave of memory. Leslie stared at him, then turned to Tattoo, bewildered.
"Who are they?" she asked.
"Oh...that's right, you weren't with us yet the last time they came here," Tattoo said. "The lady is Helena Marsh, and Jamie's her son. I think he's about eleven now. It's really their third time here. The first time was five years ago when Mrs. Marsh's husband had just died and Jamie was a little boy. She wanted to restart the fashion-designing career she had abandoned when she'd married Jamie's father, and the boss helped her out with that. Then last year she came back looking to find her true love…and it turned out to be the boss. Not only that, he'd been in love with her all that time too."
"Wow," said Leslie, a little overwhelmed.
"And boss," Tattoo said loudly to Roarke, "when she was here the last time, you were supposed to get married—and she had to go back to Calcutta, to her hospital."
Roarke nodded. "She did…"
Tattoo, realizing his mind had wandered again, smiled. "Mr. Marsh was a doctor and ran a huge hospital and school in Calcutta, India. When he died, Mrs. Marsh took Jamie and went back to New York City to start her fashion career. Then a terrible storm did a lot of damage to the buildings, and the directors of the school came to the island to try to get her to come back before the government tore them down. In the end she just couldn't say no, and she and Jamie wound up returning to India."
"Oh," said Leslie. It was a lot for her to absorb. She had been on the island just nine months, and there were still a great many strange and fascinating things here that she had yet to discover. But it had been nice to have Roarke there to ask questions about all these things, and Tattoo to help smooth the way. Now it looked like there'd be a major shakeup, and Leslie didn't think she was prepared for it.
Tattoo looked excited. "Boss, don't tell me! This time her fantasy is to really marry you?" he prompted.
"Indeed it is, my friend," Roarke replied. His eyes had never left Helena Marsh the entire time.
"Are you gonna marry her, Mr. Roarke?" Leslie asked hesitantly.
"That's her fantasy, Leslie," Roarke said softly. She heard what he didn't say: and it's my fantasy as well. She compressed her lips and looked away, assessing the woman and the boy, her mind already racing to various conclusions that she kept shying away from.
Both Leslie and Tattoo watched as Roarke crossed the clearing to meet the new arrivals, greeted the boy, then faced Helena Marsh and spoke so softly that neither of them could quite hear his words. But they knew what he was saying, directing his weekly greeting solely to her; then he plucked a glass of something off the nearest tray without even looking at it, touched it to Helena's and took a sip. Tattoo beamed; Leslie only wondered uneasily just how many new changes she would have to face.
Jamie and Helena went off to a bungalow to unpack a little bit and get settled in, and Roarke, Tattoo and Leslie returned to the main house to wait for them. Leslie was silent the whole way back, while Tattoo peppered Roarke with questions that Roarke laughingly answered. It wasn't till they were in the study that Roarke finally noticed Leslie's reticence. "Are you all right, child?" he asked her.
She looked up and smiled faintly. "Sure, I'm fine," she said.
But she hadn't convinced him, and she knew it from the skeptical return smile he aimed at her. "Something's bothering you," he said. "What is it?"
"I think she's a little worried," Tattoo offered. "I had to explain who Jamie and Mrs. Marsh were, at the plane dock. Remember, boss, she never met them before."
Roarke's expression reflected dawning realization, and he reached over and folded Leslie's hands in his. "I apologize, Leslie," he said. "I should have explained it to you myself, but I am afraid I was too distracted by the anticipation of Helena's arrival. I have known Helena for some time, and in fact we fell in love several years ago; but we never made it known to each other until a year ago when she returned. She's a lovely lady, Leslie, and I think you'll like her very much. Jamie is eleven now and a fine young man; you and he might become friends."
"Yeah, maybe we will," Leslie murmured, not quite convinced. Roarke's dark eyes warmed with sympathy and he slipped an arm around her shoulders, snugging her close for a moment. She sighed softly and settled her head on his shoulder; but Tattoo, standing where he could easily see her, read her expression and knew that it was going to take awhile for this group to settle in with one another.
It was then that there came a knock, and the door opened before anyone could call out a response. Jamie came in first, with Helena behind him. "It's still a lovely room," she said by way of greeting. "It's nice to see that things here haven't changed very much." Then she saw Leslie. "Oh…on second thought, perhaps they have!"
"I didn't think to prepare any of you, it seems," Roarke said apologetically, letting Leslie go and crossing the room to meet Helena, taking her hands in his. "Since you and Jamie were here last, I have acquired a ward." He brought Helena forward and gestured at Leslie, who stood beside his desk watching with a trace of apprehension. "Helena, my dear, meet Leslie Hamilton. She is fourteen and has been with us since this past February."
Helena brightened, stepped forward and clasped Leslie's hands in hers. "It's lovely to meet you, Leslie!" she said warmly. "I do hope to have a chance to get to know you better as soon as time will permit it. Have you met my son? This is Jamie, and he's three years younger than you are." She nodded at Jamie, who came up beside his mother and stuck out a hand at the surprised Leslie.
"It's nice to meet you," Jamie offered in friendly fashion.
Leslie smiled tentatively, accepted his hand and shook. "Nice to meet you too," she said. "Um…so, you guys came from India?"
"Yeah," said Jamie. "My dad was a doctor there. I don't remember him too well—I was barely six when he died, and that was kind of a long time ago. You live here?"
"Yeah, Mr. Roarke's my guardian," said Leslie, nodding shyly.
"Hey, kids, why don't you come with me," Tattoo suggested then. "There's a few things I need to do, and I can always use your help."
"Sure," said Leslie, finally on surer ground. She turned to Jamie. "I kind of help out around here a little bit. Come on, maybe we can show you around some." Jamie nodded in interest, and the children followed Tattoo out the door.
"She helps out?" Helena repeated when they were gone. "Darling, you've been falling off the job here. You didn't tell her about us, nor us about her…and I can't say that I blame her for feeling awkward. I could see it all over her face." Roarke smiled, looking rather sheepish, which made her laugh. "How exactly did she come to be your ward, and what does she do to help out? Tell me about her; she seems like a sweet young lady."
"She's been a welcome addition to the household," Roarke said, ushering her into a club chair and taking the one beside it. "Leslie is an orphan; her parents and younger sisters were killed in a house fire a little more than a year ago. She became a ward of the state until the legal system eventually got around to unearthing her mother's will and reading it. The will stated that Leslie was to be sent here, as she has no living relatives anywhere."
"How odd," Helena said, puzzled. "One would think her parents would have left her with close friends or some such."
"Leslie hasn't provided much detail about her life before she was orphaned, but it was my inference that her parents didn't have close friends," Roarke said thoughtfully. "If they did, they would have left them behind in Leslie's native Connecticut. When she was eight years old, the Hamiltons moved to California, which is where they were killed…but there is more to the story than that." He went on to explain about the curse and Shannon Hamilton's 1965 visit to the island that had resulted in her learning about Leslie's future and her insistence that Roarke raise Leslie after the girl was orphaned.
"What a sad story—and what an incredibly generous thing for you to do," Helena said, beaming at him. "That's just what I would expect of the man I love so much."
"You flatter me, my love," Roarke said, chuckling. "At any rate, Leslie has a few lingering emotional issues that she isn't yet ready to confront. For now it's enough that her life has regained some stability. She has friends here and she's a good student, and she's very eager to help out with my business."
"I see." Helena considered it. "So she may see all this as a large upset to her world, then. You know, I have to confess, I've always wished Jamie could have had a sister. I do hope Leslie will let me in just a little." She smiled. "But there's time for that yet, isn't there? What's on the agenda for the day?"
"For one thing, we are the guests of honor at a party Tattoo insisted on throwing for us," Roarke said. "And I believe we are due there in about half an hour; so shall we?"
