§ § § -- May 6, 1984

Leslie turned 19 on Sunday, and there was a special Sunday-evening luau held in honor of her birthday. Maureen and Frida, the only two of her friends who were still on the island, came to a private party held during the lunch hour at the main house. Lawrence, Julie and Adam were there too, and of course so was Roarke. Unlike the others, Adam had no birthday gift for Leslie; but that didn't bother her. What did unnerve her was the fact that he insisted on giving her what he called a birthday kiss. Nobody was watching, conveniently enough, but Leslie saw where he was aiming at the last minute and cranked her head to one side, so that he gave her an innocent smack on the cheek instead.

"Och, lass, ye wound me to the core," Adam complained, a twinkle in his eye.

"You'll recover fast enough, I'm sure," she retorted. "Back off, O'Cearlach, or you'll wish you had." Leslie scowled at him for good measure, then moved away from him to join Maureen and Frida. At the luau, to her immense relief, he didn't get a chance to pull her aside; there were too many people there, and she was the center of attention. By now, though, she had begun to wonder if she ought to tell Lawrence. She considered it for a time, then decided not to disillusion the poor guy. But she resolved to keep a sharp eye on Adam.

- - - - - - - - - May 19, 1984

Adam pleaded ill early in the morning of May 19, so that Roarke, Leslie and Lawrence met their guests without him that weekend. Once the guests -- a pregnant young woman from Spain who was acting as a surrogate mother, and a pensive-looking man who wanted to be reunited with his estranged fiancée -- had been introduced and Roarke had greeted them, Lawrence posed a very strange question. "Neither of these fantasies involves a potion, does it, sir?"

Roarke stared at him uncomprehendingly, and Leslie felt her stomach take another nosedive. "No," Roarke finally said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"Adam was curious," Lawrence said and shrugged. "Honestly, sir, he does seem taken with potions. I'm not at all certain what interest he has in them. I myself find them rather distasteful, I'm afraid." He glanced at Leslie and chuckled. "Perhaps, miss, you should regale him with the story of the cat potion."

She wondered dismally if it would make any difference, but didn't bother saying anything, since it was clear that neither Roarke nor Lawrence was paying much attention to her. After awhile, though, she forgot about it; Adam lay low all weekend due to whatever illness he had come down with. By the time that weekend's fantasies came to an end and the charter had taken off, Lawrence cast a glance in the general direction in which his cottage lay and said in concern, "I had better see how Adam's feeling this morning. He was quite ill last night, and I may have to drag him off to see a doctor."

But when they arrived at the main house, there was Adam on the front veranda, seated at the table where Roarke, Leslie and Lawrence often took their weekend meals, being served like a king by Mariki. "What a trencherman!" Mariki exclaimed when the trio came within sight; her plump face beamed like a full moon. "He does true justice to my cooking, Mr. Roarke. You sure picked a winner this time." She carried an empty tray off toward her kitchen. Adam, meantime, was still putting away a plateful of food; he nodded at Roarke and Leslie, waved at Lawrence and went right on eating without missing a beat.

Lawrence chuckled indulgently. "I assume you've recovered from whatever you had over the weekend, Adam."

Adam nodded vigorously and audibly swallowed a mouthful. "Aye, that I have. Join me, won't ye?" The others sat down, Roarke looking slightly dubious and Leslie with a suspicious mien about her. But she said nothing, and breakfast passed quietly.

To Leslie's relief, Lawrence took Adam off immediately after breakfast ended, telling the Irishman it was time for him to learn to supervise the daily cleaning of the bungalows, and in spite of herself blew out a relieved sigh. Roarke looked at her with amusement. "Haven't you grown accustomed to Adam's presence yet?" he asked.

Leslie stared back at him with a well, duh look. "Don't hold your breath waiting for that to happen, Mr. Roarke," she advised him, and with that rose from her chair. "I need to go make up my bed…see you later."

"Just a moment, Leslie." Roarke reached out and caught her arm to stop her. "Don't forget, you need to go through the day's mail and schedule new fantasies for August and September."

Leslie nodded. "I'll be down as soon as I've finished cleaning my room." Roarke watched her go, thinking very much out of left field that he wouldn't be surprised if she avoided scheduling any fantasies whose realization required the use of a potion.

Early that afternoon Lawrence and Adam returned to the main house, where Roarke had almost finished catching up on backlogged paperwork and Leslie was engrossed in sorting out fantasy requests. "I'm pleased to report that the bungalows are spotless, sir," Lawrence announced, a little ritual he went through every Monday afternoon.

"Excellent," said Roarke approvingly, at which point Julie arrived with her usual list of available rooms for the week. "Good afternoon, Julie."

"Hi, uncle," Julie said. "Hi, everybody. Oh good, you're here, Lawrence. I had a guest this past weekend who wanted me to serve something called 'bubble and squeak', and I was wondering if you had a recipe for it."

Lawrence regarded her curiously. "Don't tell me your cousins Niles and Eileen never served you and your sister that dish when you were in England as a girl," he said.

"No, Delphine asked about it because it was such a funny name, and Niles and Eileen told her she didn't want that, it was too greasy or something. So we never got to try it. But it can't be all that hard to make, can it?"

"Of course not, and it need not be greasy either," Lawrence said. "As a matter of fact, I do have a recipe for that very dish. Why don't we try it now? That is," and he turned to Roarke, "if you don't need me for anything at the moment, sir."

"No," said Roarke, "by all means, go ahead. Adam, please go to the pool and supervise its cleaning. I have a few errands to run, so I will be gone most of the afternoon. Leslie, will you be all right here by yourself?"

"Sure, I'll be fine," she said. "Actually, once I get done choosing fantasies, I promised Maureen I'd go over to the big mall on Coral Island with her. Is that okay?"

Roarke nodded assent. "Don't forget your blue pass so you can return," he reminded her. "Very well, we'll all meet at supper this evening." He, Julie, Lawrence and Adam exited, and Leslie got back to work. It took her another hour or so before she finished; she grabbed a pass and her purse, checked the clock and hurried out of the house.

Silence reigned for about fifteen minutes; then the door slowly opened and Adam stuck his head inside. Carefully he scanned the empty office and smiled in satisfaction. "Aye," he murmured aloud, "perfect." He shut the door and headed down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen, whistling "I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen" on the way.