§ § § - December 11, 1983
Roarke turned to the audience and smoothly took over where Gleason had left off. "Ladies and gentlemen, we haven't finished our business yet," he said cheerfully. "Ah, there seems to be a tie for the first runner-up. Miss Tina Evans is tied with Miss Angelica Baker."
Ha, Leslie thought gleefully, watching a native girl approach a shocked and dismayed Angelica with a trophy. At the judges' table, Lawrence clapped, but overtly without enthusiasm, and she snickered to herself. Angelica Baker didn't deserve first runner-up, or any runner-up at all, Leslie still felt, but at least she hadn't won the pageant.
"And the winner, the Fantasy Island Girl, is...Miss Norma Adams," Roarke announced with a broad smile. The pretty silver-blonde lit with delight and astonishment, and Leslie was thrilled to be able to walk onto the stage and present Norma Adams with the roses and set the crown carefully atop her head.
"Congratulations," Leslie said, truly meaning it.
"Thank you, Leslie, you and Mr. Roarke and Mr. Gleason," Norma replied and slipped an arm across the younger girl's shoulders long enough to squeeze. Leslie nodded and stepped back, then retreated to join Roarke at stage right while all the attention was lavished on the deserving winner.
"Next time," Leslie remarked, "the winner ought to be a local girl. It just makes sense to me."
Roarke laughed. "Perhaps so," he said, "but of course, that all depends on two things: who enters the contest, and whether we ever have another Fantasy Island Girl pageant." She joined in his laughter at that, and glanced back at Lawrence, who was just getting up and coming over to join them.
"The right girl won," Lawrence said with enormous approval.
"I believe you're right," Roarke concurred.
"I think so too," Leslie chimed in, then scowled. "But who in the heck voted for Angelica Baker so that she got first runner-up? She should've been disqualified completely."
"As much as I agree with you on that point, miss," Lawrence remarked darkly, "I was only one judge, and though I gave Miss Baker no points at all, the others thought quite highly of her, enough to elevate her to first-runner-up level. We will simply have to be content with the fact that she did not achieve her objective."
Roarke chuckled at that, then turned to Leslie. "Now that the pageant has ended, perhaps you'd like to hurry out now and pick up Maureen for Bill and Ellie Woods' party," he suggested.
In a little over half an hour, Leslie and Maureen had pulled up in front of the Enclave mansion where Marion Summers was staying; since the Woods youngsters had wanted to invite her to their party, Marion had decided it should be held there. "Leslie, I think you're overdressed," Maureen remarked, surveying the glittering seafoam-hued gown. "I mean, it can't be that glamorous."
"Oh, quit being a party pooper," Leslie said with a grin. "I just came out of the Fantasy Island Girl pageant, and we all had to look glamorous for that. And there wasn't time to change—not that I necessarily wanted to." Maureen blew her a raspberry and both girls laughed, walking briskly into the mansion and following a butler to the room where the party was in full swing. Bill, wearing a powder-blue tux, and Ellie, clad in a layered pink silk dress with glittering silver accents, welcomed Leslie, greeted Maureen with friendly grins when Leslie introduced her, and showed both girls where the buffet was, urging them to join the dancing.
"They're cute!" Maureen said. "Who are they?"
"Weekend guests," Leslie said, and briefly filled her friend in on the fantasy of which they were the focus. "Recognize the blonde lady over there?"
Maureen peered through a wide opening into the next room and gasped. "Isn't that Marion Sommers? Omigod, what's she doing here?"
"It's her fantasy," Leslie said. "I can tell you more tomorrow. For right now, let's just have fun, okay?" Maureen agreed, but Leslie knew she'd undergo a hefty grilling the next day, and she grinned, not minding a bit.
The party lasted another three hours, till the buffet had been decimated and the other attendees had been picked up by their parents to be taken home. Maureen and Leslie had lingered, chatting with Ellie and Bill for a while; then, seeing that all the others were gone, the Woods siblings excused themselves and hurried off to talk to Marion and to their adoptive mother, who stood facing each other in the adjoining room as if having just had words. Leslie suspected they had; she had a feeling she and Maureen should be leaving, but as she started to pull her friend toward the door, the lights in the hallway outside went out. "Oops," said Maureen softly.
Leslie kept her voice low too; it seemed too loud, all the same, in the absence of the music and the chattering, laughing voices that had filled the air mere moments ago. "Just stay here with me near the door. Once the butler sees the rover's still here, he'll come up for us and show us the way out."
That, however, gave both girls ringside seats for what then occurred. Ellie and Bill trotted down the three steps into the adjacent room, beaming. "Hi, Marion," Bill said.
"We're so glad you could come," Ellie added fervently.
"I had to," Marion said excitedly. "This is a special occasion, and I have something very special to tell you both." She pulled the surprised brother and sister aside, though there was no real privacy in the room, and faced them with a determined look.
"Now, this might come as a bit of a shock," she began. "Well, let me put it this way. What if I were to tell you that you both are about to receive an inheritance?"
Bill looked blank; Ellie seemed puzzled, glancing at her brother before asking, "You mean like that place in the country Grandma left to Mom?"
"Well, this would be even more involved than that," Marion said. "With this inheritance, you could buy anything you want. Would you like that?"
"Like it? Yeah, who wouldn't?" exclaimed Bill, lighting up; Ellie grinned, and Leslie saw Fran's head start to droop.
"That's super," Ellie agreed, then added hesitantly, "but who died?"
"Nobody died," Marion said, and Leslie caught the hidden meaning in the two words, biting her lip. She became aware of Maureen's inquisitive gaze on her, but refused to take her eyes off the unfolding scene.
"Wait a minute," Bill began. "How do we inherit something from somebody who didn't die?"
"Oh, you were told that she died, but she didn't. I'm talking about...your mother." She took in the bewildered stares on both Ellie and Bill; the two looked at each other, then over their shoulders at Fran, whose head drooped a little more. Leslie could see that the meaning of Marion's words was dawning on them now.
Ellie turned back to Marion, and Leslie could just hear her say, "My mom?"
"The woman who gave birth to you," Marion said with a slight nod. "Who loved you deeply. Whose heart was broken when she had to give you away."
"What're you saying?" Bill muttered, but there was something in his voice that told Leslie he already half knew the answer to his own question. "My real mother is dead."
"No, she isn't," Marion told him gently, gazing at him. "It's me."
Bill stared at her, then looked at Ellie, who breathed, "You?"
"Yes, Ellie...I'm your mother," Marion reiterated with a slight, hopeful smile. "Your real mother."
Bill made a strangled little sound, then turned to Fran with a betrayed look and began, "But you...told us..."
Fran nodded and murmured, "I'm sorry. At the time I thought it was...it was for the best." Even Ellie looked betrayed at that, but Bill seemed on the edge of tears.
"Then it's true," he said in a small, brittle voice.
"Yes," Fran whispered, anguished. "Marion is your natural mother."
The siblings turned back to stare at Marion, who seized the advantage and said, "Ellie, I want you and Bill to come home with me. You're my children; I want you back."
Leslie wondered what Marion had thought Bill's and Ellie's reactions would be, but she was sure it hadn't been what they exhibited now. "Why are you doing this?" Bill asked, still brittle-voiced, full of shock and pure bewilderment. "Now, after all this time?"
"I want a chance to make up for all those years I was away," Marion entreated. "I can give you so much. Let me show you how happy I can make you both." With money, thought Leslie, folding both lips in between her teeth to keep from commenting. Maureen's attention had been drawn by the little drama playing out before them, and she was speechless, green eyes huge and mouth open. "Give me that chance," Marion pleaded hopefully, though Leslie had the feeling she expected both kids to fall right in with her plans for them.
"Ever since I met you," Bill began, dazed, "I felt that there was something...about you..." His voice trailed off as he stared and stared at Marion, clearly trying to see her in this new role. "Something..."
"Oh, Bill," Marion exclaimed and started forward to hug him.
But Bill held her off, freezing her where she stood. "But—" Startled, Marion stepped back, and Bill pressed his advantage. "You can't just drop in here out of the blue, and offer us the world, and think that's gonna change everything."
"Bill, I'm your real mother," Marion said again, this time as if issuing a reprimand.
The boy and girl looked at each other again; then Ellie said, quietly but determinedly, "No, you're not. We have a real mother."
Marion's eyes widened just a little; her expression barely changed, yet suddenly she was no longer commanding and expectant, but startled and even a bit frightened. Bill and Ellie turned from her and both walked into Fran Woods' embrace; Fran, silent, wrapped an arm around each of them. For a moment Marion hung there, then gave up and left the room through another door, disappearing.
"Come on," Leslie whispered to Maureen, pulling her friend into the still-dark hallway and groping her way along toward a faint light at the other end.
"How sad," Maureen muttered finally, as Leslie was tugging her through the door into an enormous marble-floored foyer with curving stairways and an ornate chandelier that had been turned low to cast a subtle, deep-amber glow on the walls. "That's just so sad. Being rejected by your own kids. I hope that never happens to any of us."
Leslie led her out the door and to the rover; not till she was driving back down the access lane toward the Ring Road did she speak. "I hope so too, but the fact is that Marion Sommers gave up her kids for adoption fourteen years ago because she was too fixated on her movie career and couldn't afford to keep them. At least, that's the way I see it. You should've been there to hear the reasons she gave Mr. Roarke for wanting them back, yesterday morning. She said she could afford them now, and her career wouldn't be ruined by the scandal of being a single mother. Not one word about loving or missing them."
Maureen released a low whistle through her teeth. "Well, that is kind of harsh, but still..."
"I know. It hit her hard, but I think she needed to learn the lesson that after all those years, Bill and Ellie couldn't just change their allegiances to her from the mother they grew up with. Looks to me like she did learn it." Leslie sighed, turning onto the Ring Road. "I hope Bill and Ellie don't have any hard feelings about it. Anyway, at least it was a really great party."
"Yeah, I haven't had that much fun since Myeko's last Halloween party," Maureen agreed with a laugh, seeming relieved to have the subject changed. "I still think you were overdressed."
"I think everybody else was underdressed," Leslie shot back with a smirk, and both girls laughed as Leslie negotiated the turn onto the Old Swamp Road that bisected the island, heading for the northern arm of the Ring Road toward Maureen's house.
Another half hour passed before she got home, partly due to a short conversation she had with Maureen's parents to catch them up on how things were going; she found Roarke there, still dressed in the tuxedo he had worn to play emcee for the Fantasy Island Girl pageant. He looked up as she came in, and smiled. "Ah, there you are. How was the party?"
"It was great," Leslie said, "right up till the end, anyway." She explained what she and Maureen had witnessed. "I guess she finally understands Bill's and Ellie's viewpoints now."
"Unfortunate that it had to be impressed in such a manner, but too often we can learn a lesson in no other way," Roarke said, rising. "Let's take a little stroll and see if we can find Miss Sommers."
It didn't take them long; Marion was sitting on a white-painted wrought-iron bench in a small clearing at a junction of two paths. Leslie hung back a few feet while Roarke paused to lean on the back of the bench, on the side where Marion wasn't sitting. "Good evening, Miss Sommers," he greeted her when she peered at him over her left shoulder.
Marion barely quirked a corner of her mouth in response before turning away from him and murmuring listlessly, "No, it's not a good evening, I'm afraid. The children chose Mrs. Woods. It's all over."
Leslie thought she heard foliage rustling behind her and turned around to see, much to her surprise, Fran Woods, with Bill and Ellie one on either side of her, all still wearing their party clothes. Roarke saw her movement, glanced up and spied the newcomers, and said gently, "Not quite all over." He gestured with a nod of his head, and Marion turned to stare; Fran gently nudged Ellie and Bill forward, and they slowly approached Marion as the actress stood up and Roarke stepped back to join Leslie. Trepidation gleamed out of Marion's eyes; her children looked only slightly less apprehensive, but there was no question they had something to say.
Bill spoke first. "Marion...there's a lot of things that happen that kids don't know the reasons for. And sometimes, even if they do know the reason, it doesn't make any difference, because it's what you feel that counts."
"What Bill is trying to say is...we want you to be our friend," Ellie put in.
Bill nodded. "We'd like that, very much."
Marion took in each of them with a glance, then eyed Fran Woods, who wore a soft smile; as if she had received the seal of approval somehow, Marion spoke finally. "So would I."
"You see, Marion, nobody loses after all," Fran said gently. "We all win."
Glances, smiles and nods went all around, and Marion seemed to at last give herself permission to hug Bill and Ellie, who returned the gesture without hesitation. Roarke winked at Leslie, and they nodded a goodnight to a smiling Fran Woods before melting into the shadows.
At the main house, Leslie peered at Roarke. "What happened to Mr. Gleason and his daughter? Did they reconcile?"
"I am told they did," said Roarke. "It seems the happy endings whose occurrence you were so doubtful of came to pass after all."
"Good thing," Leslie told him pointedly, and they both laughed quietly, heading upstairs to get ready to call it a night.
§ § § - December 12, 1983
Roarke, Leslie and Lawrence could hear the voices of Nick Gleason and Tina Evans inside the rover before they stepped out: "Well, so long, Dad..."
"So long, sweetheart. And remember, we have a date next week."
"Okay...bye." Tina beamed, a little shy, but clearly happy to be back on good terms with her father. He leaned over, kissed her cheek, and stepped out of the car, which pulled away.
"Well, Mr. Gleason, you got your fantasy after all, huh?" Roarke inquired, smiling.
Gleason nodded, his face wreathed with joy, erasing most of the stress lines he'd acquired over the weekend. Lawrence added, "Yes sir...an honest and hugely successful show."
"And kind of fun too," Leslie admitted willingly enough, bringing a laugh from Roarke.
"Something that makes it a lot more worthwhile: helping me get close to my daughter again. Thank you, Mr. Roarke." He shook hands with Roarke, then with Lawrence and finally with Leslie, striding off to board the charter plane. Lawrence stared at Roarke oddly as the latter man returned Gleason's wave, and Leslie wondered what was on his mind.
"Problem?" she asked him.
Lawrence cleared his throat. "I was merely wondering what happened to Angelica Baker."
"Ah," Roarke said, catching Leslie's interest in the subject as well. "She left the island last evening, while you were at the party, Leslie. I might add that she went alone; it seems, according to assorted scuttlebutt, that no one wanted to be seen with her any longer, after word somehow got out about her attempted blackmail of Mr. Gleason."
"Hmm," Lawrence mused, peering at Leslie from the corner of his eye. "I wonder how."
Leslie glared back. "Hey, I didn't like her either, but that doesn't mean I tattled on her."
"She was too busy for that," Roarke told Lawrence with a nod. "I suspect it was the island grapevine, as it so often is." Before he could say any more, the second rover appeared, bearing Marion Sommers with Bill and Ellie Woods.
They, too, had a last-minute conversation before getting out of the car. "Are you sure you're gonna make it for the school play?" Ellie asked, as if she had already posed this question several times over the weekend.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Marion promised firmly, and leaned over to kiss Ellie's cheek and then Bill's, hugging them both. Drawing back, she sobered momentarily. "Oh...be good to your mother—your other mother."
They both smiled, and Bill nodded; then Roarke handed Marion out of the car, and she waved after the rover as it pulled away. Roarke commented, "Your smile could light up all the world, Miss Sommers."
"I owe it all to you, Mr. Roarke—even though I didn't follow the script," Marion admitted with a bit of a blush and a sheepish look. Then she seemed to remember something. "Oh, Lawrence, I'm sorry," she went on, withdrawing a slip of paper from her purse, "but you never gave me the name of your niece in London. So I made the autograph out to you. I hope it's all right."
Lawrence accepted the page, unfolded it and read it, then looked up, smiling hugely. "Very much all right, Miss Sommers, and thank you."
Seeing the opening, Leslie produced her autograph book from one pocket—the same book, now somewhat worn and at least a third full of signatures, that Tattoo had presented her on her fourteenth birthday—and shyly offered it, along with a pen. "Speaking of autographs, I hope you don't mind signing my book," she said.
"Not at all, Leslie, of course!" Marion agreed and duly scrawled on the first blank page. Leslie read it and grinned up at her, thanking her.
"Thank you...and thank you, Mr. Roarke, and goodbye," Marion said, shaking his hand, popping a kiss on a startled Lawrence's cheek, and winking at Leslie before making her way across the clearing to the landing ramp. Lawrence stared after her in astonishment; Roarke eyed him sidelong, then got the full measure of the butler's starstruck expression and grinned.
"Lawrence? Lawrence..." he prodded, with some emphasis the second time. Leslie snickered.
Lawrence started slightly, but his voice sounded dreamy. "I was just thinking, sir, what a wonderful place this is. Miss Sommers came for her fantasy, and I got one in the bargain as well." He gazed down at the autographed page again; Roarke nodded, met Leslie's gaze and shared her silent chuckle as she slipped her autograph book back into her pocket.
"Too bad about the autograph for your niece, though, huh?" Roarke remarked offhandedly, watching Marion Sommers ducking her head and stepping through the seaplane's hatch.
"What niece, sir?" murmured Lawrence, all his attention on the signed paper. Roarke and Leslie both stared at him, while he waved dreamily after the now-vanished actress; they looked at each other once more and shrugged in perfect unison.
§ § § - June 2, 2012
"Oh, that sneak," Christian said with a laugh. "No niece in London, hm? That seems a rather roundabout way to get an autograph. At least you were direct, my Rose."
"I think Lawrence thought being direct was some sort of breach of propriety or something," Leslie snorted, bringing on some laughter. "Anyway, it was nice to have my assumptions about Marion Sommers changed that weekend. She just needed to learn a little something."
"Exactly as you did," Roarke told her with a wink. "And now, perhaps we should begin decorating the patio for the children's birthday party, as we meant to do at least two tales back." They all laughed and got up, gathering party supplies and migrating out back.
"Daddy," Karina said then, "I remember Mother said sometimes you got to be in some fantasies too, after you got married and moved here, but before we got born. Why don't you ever tell us about any of those? Weren't there any good ones?"
Surprised, Christian laughed. "Oh, of course, there were several good ones, as a matter of fact. But we had a theme going here, didn't we? Fantasies that involved children? Well, I can think of one right this moment that fits both criteria. If my memory is correct, it was ten years ago next month." He focused on the triplets. "I think this is the fantasy that reminded your mother of her own life, for it involved twin girls, just like your two aunts on her side of the family. And I seem to remember that we had to import a few very special people to make it all happen, which required my participation in the preparations for the fantasy. In the end, though, I found myself more involved than I had expected to be, no thanks to my title—even though at the time I had given it up." He shot Leslie a mock-annoyed look.
"Don't give me that," she retorted, grinning right back. "You had fun with it, you can't deny that. At least as much fun as I had." Christian chuckled in concession.
"And we weren't born yet?" Susanna asked.
"This was a little less than two years before you three came along," Leslie explained. "Before you ask any more questions, go ahead and start tying these balloons to the chairs here, and listen to us. Then you'll get all your answers."
§ § § - July 13, 2002
Since becoming her adoptive father's assistant, Leslie had noticed certain reliable patterns in the business, one of which was that summer was a boom time for fantasies involving kids. What with school out for the season, anyone with kids who intended to make a trip here almost invariably scheduled it for summer vacation nowadays. This week's guests were true to form: the charter plane's hatch first disgorged a fairly large family. "Ah, the Garrett family: a blended unit consisting of recently married parents Ross and Erica, with his children Kira and Milo, and her children Jordan, Sawyer, Flynn and Nia." As he spoke, Leslie counted the kids, but didn't see the last-named one, Nia, till all the rest of them had stepped off the disembarkation ramp onto the grass. Nia gripped her glass in both hands and took each step with exaggerated care, as if she were walking on thin ice. "They have come here," Roarke went on, "for a vacation...or so they all say."
Leslie had been watching Nia Garrett. "If I say Nia has a fantasy, do I win?"
"Very well observed, my child," Roarke said, sounding impressed. "Yes, you're right, Nia has the fantasy. She is twelve years old, and even before gaining a stepfather and two stepsiblings, she felt lost within her family. She and her brothers and sister all just completed undergoing adoption by their stepfather and a subsequent change of surname, and then the entire family moved into a new home in suburban Des Moines, Iowa. So there have been many changes in Nia's life."
"And what she wants," Leslie guessed, "is for her parents to meet up here on the island and, at least for the weekend, fall in love again or something, so she can revisit her old life."
"Not even close," said Roarke, in that half-amused tone he used to use whenever Tattoo made wild guesses and missed the mark. "Not that it could happen in any case, since Nia's father died nine years ago and she has very few memories of him. No, try again, and watch Nia carefully." He gestured toward the Garretts as he said this, and Leslie turned to peer at them in time to see the parrot on the perch just behind Nia let out a loud squawk and spread its wings in colorful display. Nia squealed, jumped and jerked away all in nearly the same second, her movements so startled and abrupt that she stumbled over her own foot, and most of the contents of her glass slopped out in a miniature tidal wave and splattered on the grass. This got the attention of all five of the other children, all of whom either laughed and pointed, or rolled their eyes. Leslie heard one of them groan in disgust, "Geez, Nia, it's just a parrot!"
Leslie blinked. "Poor girl! She's easily startled, and she's picked on by her siblings. And she's a little clumsy to boot."
"And there you have it," said Roarke. "Nia's fantasy is to become graceful. According to her, your observation about being 'a little clumsy' would be a tremendous understatement. As she said in the note she slipped in with her parents' letter and check several months ago, she is a 'hopeless klutz', and has suffered a great deal of teasing for it, both at home and in school."
"I wonder how we can help," Leslie said.
Roarke smiled. "You'll be busy this weekend, for you'll be heavily involved not only in Nia Garrett's fantasy, but also in this one." With impeccable timing, he shifted her attention to the plane, from which now were emerging three little girls and another adult couple. "The Egans: Todd and Jillian, the parents; their fraternal twin daughters, Ramona and Renata; and the twins' cousin, Delaney. The latter child was six years old last month; the twins celebrate their own sixth birthday tomorrow, and their parents are so thankful and relieved the girls have reached this milestone that they spent three years' worth of saved funds to give their children this fantasy." Roarke frowned, watching the Egans. "I had quite an argument with them over the telephone regarding the price they insisted on paying for this fantasy, and I've had to resort to some duplicity as a result."
"What on earth are you talking about?" Leslie asked, thoroughly mystified.
"Ramona and Renata have just received cancer-remission diagnoses from their pediatrician," said Roarke. "They had different forms of the disease—Ramona, bone cancer, and Renata, stomach cancer—and each has undergone a series of hardships and medical treatments that have taken great tolls on both of them. The Egans' medical bills are staggering, even with insurance. Don't say anything to them, Leslie, but when they adamantly refused to accept my offer to give them their fantasy for a quarter of the amount they sent me, I simply gave in—then, after depositing their check, I wrote out one of my own for three-quarters of what they sent, saw to it that that money was deposited into their bank account just before they left their Maryland home for this island, and then wrote another check for one hundred thousand dollars to be put toward their medical bills. Both parents have worked very hard to raise the money for the bills and for this fantasy, and have taken a great many hours away from their jobs to be with their daughters during their illnesses. They have already paid enough of a price, in many ways. I put the token payment that I did accept toward a lavish birthday party to be catered by your friend Maureen's mother and her employees."
"That's beautiful and incredibly generous, Father," Leslie said, hand at her throat. "What's their fantasy, then—the birthday party?"
"Not just any birthday party," said Roarke. "The twins and their cousin are all deeply enamored of the Disney princess films, from the original Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs all the way through to Mulan from the year they were born. And their fantasy is to be Disney princesses for the weekend."
"Oh," Leslie murmured and smiled. "That should be simple."
"Perhaps," said Roarke and grinned at her. "But you'll have to perform one task that may very well not be so simple." He left her dangling on that note, raised the champagne flute that arrived at a suspiciously convenient moment, and welcomed their latest guests to the island. Every kid in the clearing hopped excitedly around—even Nia Garrett, who as Leslie watched her dropped her glass with what was left of her drink after one of her brothers accidentally elbowed her—and Leslie knew that this weekend would be possibly one of the busiest, but also one of the most intriguing, she'd ever taken part in since becoming her father's assistant.