§ § § - August 30, 2009
Rogan arrived at the main house about fifteen minutes after breakfast on Sunday morning with Julie, Rory and Lucan. Lucan, a handsome little boy of four, became a chatterbox as soon as he and Tobias got together; he had become quite fluent in English since the Callaghans had taken him in after the deaths of his parents, and Julie said he spoke Italian now only when he dreamed at night. "I wish there were some way he could retain his Italian though," she commented. "There's just nobody here on the island who speaks it."
"Sometimes there's nothin' ye can do about it, lass," Rogan told her. "It's just one o' the costs o' having to change his life in the wake of Giancarlo and Marina dyin'. While we're more or less on the subject...Christian, have ye heard anything from your niece about her takin' the amakarna cure? Seems to me ye would've by now."
"We had enough else to distract us, we managed to forget about it," Christian admitted, "but now that you bring it up, I ought to see what her final decision is—particularly in light of the coming changes around here. I presume once you've taken over for Mr. Roarke, you'll have far less time to devote to the greenhouse."
"Aye, which is one reason I've welcomed the drop in amakarna sales. I've still got plenty o' customers for the stuff, but I'd say it's no more than forty percent or so o' what I had this time last year. Seems an amazin' number o' those takin' the spice hated it an' were more than glad for the opportunity to rid themselves o' the need."
Christian nodded. "I can certainly imagine. I'm only sorry Marina didn't happen to have the idea for the cure long ago...such as when I had to be married to her."
Rogan let out a laugh and said, "Aye...well, better late than never, eh? Anyhow, I'd suggest ye get in touch with Princess Anna-Kristina an' ask her what the verdict is."
"I'll do that," Christian agreed, "although I daresay that if she's gone this long without letting us know what she wants to do, that in itself is enough of an answer. She was afraid of the side effects, and I suspect it was enough to scare her off taking it, despite her loathing for her continued dependence on the spice."
"I've never yet heard anyone say it wasn't worth the side effects to be free o' the spice an' its expense, no matter how bad said side effects were," Rogan noted. "Ye might advise her o' that an' see what she says." On Christian's nod, he looked at Roarke. "I don't suppose ye've heard anythin' from our Spider-Man this mornin'..."
"Not so far," said Roarke. "It is rather early, so I suggest you keep yourself available for any contingencies that may arise. Leslie and I will be here in the study if you need us for any reason; we'll be working on the usual paperwork and scheduling."
Christian had started playing on his laptop, and Rory peered at the screen over his shoulder, from behind him, without his knowledge—at least till he said suddenly, "Hey, Uncle Prince, don't you have a Facebook page? You oughta get one."
Christian had given a start at Rory's first word, but let out a laugh when the boy had asked his question. "I doubt I'd have time to keep up with something like that. I believe there are some pages for my family on that site, but I see no reason to have one of my own. I suppose you're looking forward to having yours?"
"Can't till I'm thirteen," Rory groused. "I asked my parents a whole buncha times already, but they showed me the site rules and they say you have to be thirteen."
"And we are not breaking the rules like some of the parents of your friends in school, either," Julie added severely.
Rory made a face, but his attention had gone back to what Christian was doing. "Is that your e-mail?" he asked.
Rogan turned around finally and admonished, "Rory, let be—that's not yer business. Apologies, Christian, but he's gettin' computer-savvy. They seem to be teachin' it in school earlier every year. By now you might expect the triplets to begin learnin' as soon as they set foot in their kindergarten classroom tomorrow."
"Yeah, school tomorrow," Rory mourned. "I wish summer could last forever."
"Not me," said Tobias, grinning. "We're all gonna have fun in kindy-garden. Our babysitter Brianna says you mostly just play in there."
"Not when you get older," said Rory. "You gotta learn tons of stuff then, and you don't get to play anymore."
"Jaded for only a fourth-grader, isn't he?" Leslie remarked to Julie, who rolled her eyes. Chuckling, Leslie added, "I'd think you ought to be outside, Rory, making the most of your last day of freedom, instead of complaining about tomorrow. Tobias, Susanna, Karina, you three can go out with him, but stay in the side yard and don't go anywhere."
"Hey, Rory," Susanna said as the children headed out through the French shutters, "you said we sing songs in kindy-garden, right? Which ones?" Their voices were lost to the adults as the youngsters disappeared around the corner, with Lucan tagging along behind.
"Well, all right, the message is sent, then," Christian murmured, half to himself; Leslie glanced back at him and smiled a little, wondering when and whether Anna-Kristina would respond, and then whether Christian would come along with her when she took the triplets to school for the very first time. They're growing up...don't even think about it! She pulled in a breath, let it out and put her attention to opening fantasy-request letters.
It was still over half an hour till lunch when the quiet study—now occupied only by Roarke, Leslie and Christian, since Julie had gone back to the B&B and Rogan was making a discreet check on the DeFazio fantasy—was invaded by the Griffin siblings. "I think we did it," Chance was saying, and grinned when Roarke and Leslie looked up at him. "That was a great idea you gave me last night. Thanks a lot for putting it in my head. Hayley agrees."
"What idea was that?" Roarke inquired.
"Aw, well, we got together and started talking about Owen and Sydney, and how mad we were, especially after Sydney turned out to look better in Hayley's clothes than Hayley does, and how Owen ran off with Elara, and how perfect they are. They get attention from the opposite sex, they're too talented for their own good..."
"Sydney swims like a dolphin," Hayley put in sourly, "and I saw her over at that ice-skating rink...Fantasy Iceland, great name, by the way. She skates like an Olympic champ. She rides horses like a professional equestrienne, she sings in perfect pitch, she could be a makeup artist to the stars, and she's so graceful and cheerful and smiling. When you send her back, Mr. Roarke, let me know where she went so I can make a quick trip there after her and take some Perfect Pills like hers."
"Don't worry about that, sis. Sydney'll get what she's got coming, same as Owen." Chance grinned. "We planted a couple of rumors about them to each other. Told Sydney that Owen's gonna tell all the guys that she cheats at everything, and we said to Owen that Sydney spread a rumor about how he steals other guys' girlfriends. Which is true," Chance added when he noticed Roarke's and Leslie's expressions. "He stole mine, after all."
"And spreading rumors is the way to stop them from spoiling things for you two?" Leslie said, shaking her head. "Hasn't either one of you tried just sitting down and talking to them, maybe?"
"I can hardly stand to talk to Sydney after she raided my suitcase," Hayley snorted.
"Owen wouldn't talk to me if his life depended on it," said Chance. "He's too busy showing off for all the women."
"What has your mother said about all this?" asked Roarke.
"She just shakes her head and tells us we're the ones who wanted the brother and sister, so it's up to us to deal with them," said Hayley. "She said she was sick enough of mediating fights between Chance and me, and she didn't want anything to do with the ones between Owen and Chance or between me and Sydney."
"I have a funny feeling all you've done all weekend is fight with them," Leslie said, glancing back and forth between the siblings. "You wanted the brother and sister so badly, you wouldn't listen to everybody's caveats, and now you're refusing to try to make things better with them. I don't know...maybe that's only so you can turn around and blame us for not providing exactly the kind of siblings you wanted. Brothers get on each other's nerves, sisters get on each other's nerves, and brothers and sisters do the same thing. It makes no difference what you have. If there's more than one kid in a family, you're going to have fights; that's all there is to it. The key is in how you handle the fights. You either let it blow over, apologize and go on, or you take it so personally that it destroys the relationship. It doesn't look like either one of you has given Owen or Sydney the chance to be the kind of brother and sister you claim to want. Instead, almost immediately you stormed in here complaining about their antics and how offended you were. I think you really should approach this whole thing from a different angle."
"Leslie has good advice," Roarke said with a little smile. "Ponder it for a while, and then make your decisions. I can only hope they are the right ones."
Chance and Hayley looked at each other, then nodded and left silently. Christian, who had been watching from the loveseat all the while, caught Leslie's eye. "That was good advice, my Rose. I should think Rogan would be taking some lessons from you as well as from Mr. Roarke."
She smiled, feeling a little sheepish. "Maybe I'm just trying to protect my job," she joked, and Roarke chuckled; Christian smiled back and returned to the website on his laptop, making her think back over what she had said and then roll her eyes to herself. "Christian, I was kidding, in case you thought otherwise."
He looked back around at her. "I know," he said mildly. "I'm just trying to get back into the rhythm of what I was doing here. Don't pay me any attention."
She nodded agreement, but found herself gazing at him, watching him pulling a website together for a client. Finally she turned back to Roarke and mused, "The way Rogan's going, he'll need all of us—you for advice, me for his assistant, and Rory for his trainee, so that he can pass things on as soon as humanly possible."
"Perhaps, perhaps," Roarke agreed, chuckling again. "Rogan doesn't realize it in his great reluctance, but he's settling in. I know it doesn't appear to be so, but it's true. While he may not enjoy it, by the time I must join the tribunal, he will have enough knowledge to carry on in my place."
"He might," said Leslie skeptically, "but will he have the self-confidence?"
"That is the hundred-thousand-dollar question, is it not?" Roarke noted humorously. "Only time will tell, my child. For now, be patient and bear with him; he's trying." At that moment he seemed to remember something and consulted his gold watch, an affectation Leslie still loved about him and one that he sometimes tended to employ even when he could much more easily have glanced at the nearby grandfather clock. "As I thought—I do indeed have an appointment in less than half an hour. If you two will take care of things here, I'd be grateful. I'll try to be back before the evening meal."
"Take as long as you have to," Leslie said, and Roarke smiled and departed. She took his place behind the desk and paused long enough to gaze again at Christian, who was still engrossed in his website project and who, she was sure, had never even heard Roarke's request of a moment before. She smiled to herself and returned to the task at hand, but now she was distracted for some reason. Setting aside the letters, she let her mind roam, and was a little surprised to realize it kept returning to the subject of Rogan and her job. It took her some ten minutes of heavy-duty thinking to realize exactly what she needed to do.