§ § § - December 4, 1983

Lawrence, called away for a while to attend to some urgent matter, had left Leslie in charge of Jane and Michael Ashley about an hour after breakfast. Jane seemed her usual carefree self, but Michael was as glum as ever. "Did your mom come back to the bungalow last night?" Leslie asked, mostly to get a response from the boy, since she was sure Elaine Ashley never would have left her kids alone in a bungalow all night long, swinger fantasy or none. It occurred to her at the same moment that in fact, Elaine had been no such thing; otherwise she would have been trying to make time with every attractive man she met here, and to the best of Leslie's knowledge Elaine had been seen only with Martin Avery. She wondered why on earth Elaine had said she'd wanted to be a swinger if it turned out she didn't.

Michael interrupted her thought with, "I dunno. Lawrence put me and Jane to bed last night, and we were asleep before Mom came back. I mean, if she did." He shrugged. "And then he was here this morning before he called you." The thought seemed to penetrate his gloomy mood and he frowned, then focused sharply on Leslie. "Hey, maybe she didn't! I mean, if Lawrence was here when we went to sleep, and then he was here this morning when we woke up—maybe he never left!"

"I guess that's possible," Leslie mused, a little surprised. She had heard from Roarke the previous evening at supper that Martin Avery had offered Elaine a job as marketing director with his firm, at twice the salary she was getting in her current job. "But if she did stay away all night, it's a sure bet that Lawrence was here in her place." She knew Lawrence well enough to know how seriously he took his job and all its attendant responsibilities; it would have been utter anathema to him to leave two young children alone in a bungalow for an entire night.

"Well, he must've," Michael reasoned. "We're too young to stay by ourselves. Mom says that all the time." He eyed Leslie. "Hey, how old are you?"

"Eighteen, why?" Leslie asked.

"Wow, then you're twice as old as me," Michael said, a little awed, his tone of voice enough to actually make Leslie feel old even though she knew good and well she wasn't. "Do you live here or something? I mean, you're always with Mr. Roarke."

"Well, that's because he adopted me," Leslie told him, and explained her story to him. "So I've been here almost five years now."

"Wow," Michael said again, now awed for a different reason. "Man, and I thought my dad was a jerk. Yours sure had him beat. My dad just ran away...yours tried to kill you off!"

"Yeah," Leslie said, just to acknowledge him. She had no wish to discuss her birth father.

"If so many dads are like that," Michael wanted to know, "then how come my mom wants to find another one? We don't need another dad. We're doing fine without one."

"I thought Lawrence explained that to you yesterday," Leslie said, startled.

"Not really. I mean, I didn't get it. All that junk about how she needs grown-up company so she can do grown-up things. Special abilities and stuff—whatever that means. You said it better, how sometimes us kids don't want grownups around so we can do our own stuff, and grownups want the same thing sometimes. I got that. I just don't get why, not if so many guys are like our dads."

"Not all of them are," Leslie said.

"You sure about that?" challenged Michael. "You never saw any dad except yours, right? So how could you know?"

Leslie's answer was slow in coming, for even as she spoke, realization was dawning on her. "I know, because Mr. Roarke's been like a father to me since I first came to this island. He took care of me, and not just because he had to." She caught herself, thinking back to her first few weeks under Roarke's care. "Well, maybe in the beginning it was like that. But he couldn't help that, because he and I didn't know each other, and we had to get used to each other. And Mr. Roarke never had children of his own before. I mean, he told me he's raised a few other orphans before I came here, but he knew their parents, and they were older when they were orphaned, so they were almost grown up already and he didn't have to do too much. But I wasn't fourteen yet when I got here, and after my so-called dad and all the awful things he tried to do to us, I don't think I really trusted Mr. Roarke. I did, up to a point. He's the sort of person who makes you feel like you can trust him the minute you first meet him. But deep inside, it wasn't that simple. I missed my mother like crazy—I still do—and I was lonely and scared, and I had to get used to a new place and new people. I was totally alone in the world. But even if we got off to kind of a rocky start, Mr. Roarke understood my feelings. He was always patient with me, and he assured me he'd never hit me, or get angry with me without good reason. And he went on to prove that. He's never hit me, and he's never yelled at me or even gotten mad unless I've done something wrong or just stupid. He showed me that not all dads are like yours and mine. He was the kind of father I should've been born with. So that's why I think of him as my dad, especially now that he's legally adopted me."

Michael's eyes had glazed over, but Leslie could see he was processing her words. As the pause stretched out, Jane wandered over and asked, "Hey, Leslie, can we go to that eating place again and have some more ice cream? That banana split was so yummy yesterday!"

"Maybe later," Leslie said. "If your mom's okay with it. Besides, it's still morning, and nobody eats ice cream in the morning."

"I do," said Jane, as if she couldn't understand why the entire world didn't eat ice cream for breakfast. "Anyway, ice cream's good for you, 'cause it's made out of milk."

"Ice cream is also made out of loads of sugar, and that rots your teeth," said Leslie, who even as she spoke found herself wondering in the back of her brain when she had started sounding like a killjoy adult. "Your mom would say the same thing. Ice cream's a treat, not a meal."

Jane peered at Leslie as if the older girl had begun transforming into a toad right before her eyes. "Eww. You must be a grownup if you say dumb stuff like that."

"Close enough," said Leslie wryly. "No ice cream unless your mom okays it." Jane made a face and slouched away, her lower lip protruding.

Michael had been waiting, Leslie realized, for he pounced as soon as his sister had left them alone. "So then my mom wants to find a dad who acts like a real dad, right?"

"I think so, yes," Leslie agreed. Or she will, she reflected, once she gets around to figuring out that she hasn't really been a swinger at all the way she thought she wanted to be. "And I think that's what my mother was hoping I'd understand, too. If not, she'd have left me with someone else, I think, but she didn't." She fell silent, pondering this discovery, feeling as if she'd just stumbled upon some small but profound truth. "And I think Mom got her wish."

Michael flopped back in his seat. "Okay...so my mom's here to find us a new dad. But how come she has to do it without us?"

"Only in the beginning," Leslie said. "Your mom wouldn't have you meet a new guy right away, not till she got to know him better, because she'd have to find out first how he feels about kids. She has to get to know him well enough to be able to trust him, and then decide if she wants you guys to meet him. It's a way for her to try to make sure she doesn't end up with another guy who treats you the way your dad did." She watched Michael's face begin to clear with comprehension. "So she's not just abandoning you. She's trying to find someone who's right not just for her, but you and Jane too."

"Oh," Michael breathed. "And I guess that guy that was here with her yesterday was somebody she liked, and maybe she was hoping he'd make a good dad for us."

"Yup, could be," Leslie agreed. "Then Jane kind of spoiled it with that Mr. Hancock." She grinned at the boy. "There are some things kids really can't help grownups with."

Michael laughed. "Yeah, that's for sure. We shoulda watched Jane better yesterday. Well, we will today. I'm gonna tell Lawrence we have to keep an eye on her all the time...or else next time she might bring home a circus clown that gives her ice cream." Leslie laughed as well, and they went back to watching television for a while, though Leslie's thoughts soon drifted elsewhere.

‡ ‡ ‡

Lawrence resumed his babysitting duties around eleven, and for the remainder of the day Roarke and Leslie cleaned out paperwork and fielded the occasional question or problem from guests who dropped into the office. Eventually Leslie filled Roarke in on her conversation with Michael that morning, and Roarke listened with interest, smiling when she finished.

"Well done, Leslie. Yes, I believe that was your mother's intent when she left you under my guardianship. She knew you'd have to come to understand that not all men are the same, for if you continued to believe that throughout your life, you could never trust a man enough to fall in love and eventually have your own family. I believe your mother wanted you to have the chance at that very future, should you wish it."

"It's funny," Leslie mused, "I never really thought about it till Michael asked his questions and made me consider it. Even five years after Mom died, she's still teaching me lessons."

Her adoptive father's broad smile told her she had said something so true, perhaps even profound, that she'd made him proud of her. "Indeed she is, and that's one hallmark of an exceptional parent. And not—quite—to change the subject, but you were also correct about Mrs. Ashley's misguided ideas about swingers." His expression changed then and he inquired, with an ominous thread underlying his tone, "Just where did you learn precisely what a swinger is, Leslie Susan?"

She had been in his care long enough to know when he was teasing, and gave him a saucy smirk in response. "I haven't exactly been living under a rock, you know. I was old enough when the swinger business started that all I had to do was watch enough movies and TV and read enough books to get the gist of it." She paused a moment, then added somewhat more seriously, "Of course, that might raise the question about what rock Mrs. Ashley's been living under."

Roarke chuckled. "Perhaps, but it seems to me that it's fortunate for both Mrs. Ashley and her children that she's been under that rock. And if she learns the lesson I hope she learns, she will remain there. How much mail is left for you to sort through?"

"Not too much. I can probably finish it before I go to bed," said Leslie, and gathered the remaining envelopes just as Lawrence walked into the inner foyer.

"Good evening, Lawrence," Roarke greeted him. "Are the Ashley children asleep?"

"Not when I left, sir," said Lawrence, "but that is no longer my problem. Mrs. Ashley herself returned—earlier than I expected she would—and took charge of her offspring."

"Ah, excellent," said Roarke.

"She looked quite thoughtful," Lawrence remarked, pausing in front of Roarke's desk as if to make an official report and then await further orders. "There was clearly quite a large issue on her mind; she barely responded when I wished her a good night. I must say I was quite surprised to see her return so early—and alone at that. I had expected she would be...ahem...keeping company with Mr. Avery, considering that she's been with him most of the weekend."

Roarke looked blandly interested in the face of Lawrence's half-expectant mien, as if the butler were waiting for his boss to explain what Elaine Ashley had been thinking. "Well, thank you for watching the Ashley children this weekend, Lawrence. Since you've been relieved of your duties by their mother, you may retire for the evening if you wish."

For about three seconds Lawrence looked as if he wanted to protest, and in fact even opened his mouth to say something; then he seemed to reconsider the impulse and snapped it closed, schooling his expression. "As you say, sir. Good night, and to you as well, miss." He nodded once at Leslie, then turned smartly on one heel and departed with a brisk stride.

Leslie grinned. "I have a feeling Mrs. Ashley learned that lesson after all, Mr. Roarke."

"I think you're right," her father agreed, smiling back. "Very well, go ahead and finish that task, and the rest of the evening is yours."

§ § § - December 5, 1983

Even as the first rover approached them with Eddie Random and Nikolos Karabatsos in the middle seat, they could hear the older man's strident voice. "Are you sure you won't change your mind and come along, my dear?" he asked, directing the question to Angie Gordon, who sat in the front passenger seat, twisted around to face Karabatsos and Random.

"That's very, very tempting, Mr. Karabatsos," said Angie sweetly. "But for now I'm gonna stay with my father." Karabatsos accepted this with uncommon good grace, kissed her hand and stepped out of the car, while Angie turned to Random and asked, "Will I see you soon?"

"Real soon, Angie," he promised.

"Good," she murmured, and they kissed briefly and murmured farewells before he got out of the rover and it pulled away. Eddie then turned to Karabatsos, who was watching the car leave, and said lightly, "Listen, if you want me to work for you, you're gonna have to stay away from my women, understand?"

Karabatsos fell into the playacting, hanging an arm around the younger man's shoulders. "It's one thing to drive a hard bargain, Eddie, but when you add impossible conditions..."

"Well, Mr. Karabatsos," Lawrence said then, as if to break up this brand-new buddy-buddy club, "your fantasy to help out other people is starting out very well indeed."

"Yes, and I think the credit for this good beginning must go to Mr. Roarke and to you—and yes, to you too, Leslie," Karabatsos said with an almost regal nod of his head. Lawrence lowered his in a show of modesty that Leslie wasn't sure she fully believed; Roarke simply smiled with appreciation. "Thank you all very much."

Roarke turned to Eddie. "And you, Mr. Random: I trust having Mr. Karabatsos' vast wealth at your disposal isn't going to put too much of a crimp in your style."

"Well, I'll give it a year or so, until I make enough money of my own," Random replied, before turning slyly to Karabatsos and adding, "When I do, I'll use it to bury you."

Karabatsos released a scoffing chortle and led Random off to the plane. "I'd like to see you try, my boy."

Leslie eyed them, waiting till they were out of earshot before commenting wryly, "I wonder if Eddie Random knows enough to have meant that remark literally."

Roarke and Lawrence both peered at her, Roarke in surprise and Lawrence with just enough disapproval to nettle the girl; then Roarke said, "Perhaps by then enough time will have passed that they will have grown truly fond of each other—or at least friends enough that Mr. Random will truly do justice to the dispersal of Mr. Karabatsos' fortune." He raised an arm and waved at their departing guests; Leslie followed suit and Lawrence joined them a couple of beats late, as if preferring to dwell on his perception that Leslie's comment had been decidedly gauche. But in the end he let it go, and Leslie was relieved to keep the peace.

The second rover pulled up then, and Michael and Jane Ashley jumped out of the car, running to Lawrence to give him farewell hugs. Meantime Roarke handed Elaine out of the rover as Jane said, "Goodbye, Lawrence."

"We'll miss you, but we're sure glad to have our mom back," Michael added, beaming up at him with relief.

"There is no substitute for the real thing, is there?" Roarke observed cheerfully, his smile broadening as Michael shook his head. Jane and Michael both shook Roarke's hand; Jane bolted for the plane, while Michael started after her, then paused long enough to turn to Leslie.

"Hey, thanks a lot for our talk yesterday morning. I felt a lot better after that," he said.

Leslie grinned and accepted his handshake. "Glad I could help. Have a great trip home." Michael beamed again, then called a goodbye and galloped off in his sister's wake.

"Well, Mrs. Ashley," Roarke said then, turning to her, "how did it feel to be a swinger?"

"I guess I'll never really know," said Elaine, and Leslie smirked to herself: apparently Elaine had reached the same conclusion she had! "However, if the real thing should come along..."

Roarke chuckled, shook hands with her, accepted her thanks and wished her farewell. Elaine tendered her goodbyes to Lawrence and Leslie, thanking them both for staying with her kids, and made her way off to the plane dock. Lawrence turned to Roarke and observed, "Well, she didn't exactly get her fantasy after all, did she, sir?"

"No, Lawrence, as Leslie understood as early as yesterday morning," Roarke said, smiling, "but she did receive something much more important: the knowledge that a woman's search for fulfillment often leads her to her own doorstep." They waved off the Ashleys one more time; in fact Lawrence bent down halfway to aim a special wave at the kids, earning surprised, amused stares from both Roarke and Leslie before they grinned at each other.

§ § § - June 2, 2012

"Oh," said Susanna, "so that's what a swinger is. A lady that wants to go out with a whole bunch of different guys."

"Close enough," Leslie said with a shrug, exchanging a grin with Christian. "One good thing did come out of that fantasy though—Elaine Ashley got to keep the position with Martin Avery's company, and she was able to buy a small house after a couple of years. We had one postcard from her telling us about that and about this really nice guy she had met, and that was the last we ever heard from her. So much for the decadent swinger fantasy."

"I recall hearing that Nikolos Karabatsos died about ten months after he had been to the island," Christian mused. "Since the Karabatsos concerns are still going strong, either Eddie Random learned a great deal of useful knowledge while Karabatsos was around to impart it to him, or he simply handed it off to a more competent heir and did as he chose with his own money."

"We didn't hear from him, so I don't know about that," Leslie said.

"But there was a telegram sometime later, announcing his marriage to Angie Gordon," Roarke put in. "So yes, another happy ending."

"You said there was another fantasy with kids in it right after that one happened," Tobias said. "What was that one about?"

Roarke and Leslie looked at each other and both chuckled. "More adoptees," Leslie said, making Christian's gaze sharpen with added interest. "Well, why don't we just tell you about it."

§ § § - December 10, 1983

Their first guest had a semi-familiar face—Leslie thought he might be a game-show host, since he looked very much like one—but Lawrence spoiled her private little guessing game before she could even start to puzzle out the man's identity. "Isn't that Mr. Nick Gleason, sir, the gentleman who's putting on the Fantasy Island Girl beauty pageant?" Well, Leslie reflected with a small sigh, I wasn't all that far off the mark...at least he's a host of something. She supposed his seeming familiarity had to do with his resemblance to a gaggle of game-show hosts she remembered from her childhood; she had never heard of Nick Gleason.

"Yes, Lawrence," confirmed Roarke, catching her attention. "A rather desperate man, I'm afraid."

"Desperate? How?" Leslie wanted to know.

"As a producer of beauty contests, rumor has it that a number of them have been, uh...fixed," said Roarke, with a significant look at her.

"Oh, nice," Leslie muttered, shaking her head.

"Then what on earth can his fantasy be?" asked Lawrence in perplexity. "To auction off the Fantasy Island Girl crown to the highest bidder?"

Leslie snickered, and Roarke looked a little grim. "I should hope not, Lawrence," he said. "Since the Fantasy Island pageant will merit international attention from the media, Mr. Gleason considers this the last chance he will have to clean up his tarnished reputation and make a success of his life. His fantasy is to produce an honest and hugely successful show."

"Good luck with that," mumbled Leslie, just as she glanced up and noticed an odd little smile on Lawrence's face. "Uh, what's with you?"

Roarke peered at Lawrence with half-stifled amusement, then prodded, "You seem familiar with our new guest, Lawrence." At this, Leslie followed Lawrence's gaze, which was trained on a hopeful-looking blonde woman in early middle age, wearing a subdued white floral-print dress with a red belt and matching red hat. The attire made her look as if she were on her way to a proper English tea.

"Marion Sommers," Lawrence said with reverent wonder. "Even lovelier in person than on the screen."

"I take it you're a fan," said Roarke in surprise.

"Oh yes," responded Lawrence, as if stunned that Roarke didn't already know.

"Ah," Roarke commented, and smiled, catching Leslie's grin. "Well, I know Leslie isn't familiar with her, so for her sake, let me explain: she is a stage and screen actress of some renown, although in the last ten years or so, her films have been more successful in Europe than in North America. Still, she is a well-known name and face in many countries."

Leslie nodded. "I expect if Mom were here, she'd have recognized her."

"What on earth can her fantasy be?" Lawrence queried, his disbelief even greater for this guest than for Nick Gleason. "Surely that is one person who, as they say, has it all."

"Miss Sommers' fantasy is to be reunited with the two children that she gave up for adoption nearly fourteen years ago," said Roarke.

Shocked, Lawrence exclaimed, "Children, sir? I had no idea!"

"Neither has anyone else, Lawrence," Roarke said simply. "Least of all her children."

"Well." The butler seemed stunned. "You can surely grant her fantasy, can't you, sir?"

"That will all depend on how Miss Sommers interprets the word reunited," said Roarke, and before either Lawrence or Leslie could push out any more questions, his champagne glass arrived and he raised it in toast. "My dear guests! I am Mr. Roarke, your host. Welcome to Fantasy Island!"