§ § § -- April 18, 1994

The first car drew up in front of Roarke and Leslie on Monday morning and discharged Samantha and Victoria Elliott; Roarke stepped forward and lifted the wheelchair out of the back, holding it so that Toria could heft herself into it. Once the car pulled away, he smiled at the sisters. "I hope your fantasy was satisfactory," he said questioningly.

"I'll say it was," Toria said with a grin. "I'll admit to wishing it could have lasted for good, but…having that last chance to just hop onto my feet and go…I'll always treasure that gift, Mr. Roarke. If it weren't for Samantha being willing to lend her mobility to me, and you making it possible, I don't know what I might have done. Even if you did engineer that reunion—which is fine, because it got me my friends back."

Roarke laughed. "A mere coincidence, I assure you. But I am very happy to hear that it all turned out for the best. And you, Miss Elliott…" He turned to Samantha. "Were you able to get the rest you so looked forward to?"

Samantha smiled sadly. "Physically, yes; mentally, no. But I'll get over it."

"Are you sure you want to?" asked a voice then, and none other than Darryl Kellett pushed himself forward from around the bend in the lane. He stopped some feet away from the Elliott sisters and looked at Samantha, sheepish, apologetic and hopeful all at once. "I found out last evening that I didn't have all the information I needed before I jumped to conclusions, and Leslie here set me straight. Samantha, I can't tell you how sorry I am that I hurt you and said what I did. Did I do too much damage, or could we start over again?"

Samantha stared at him, her eyes wide and hopeful. "I'm willing to try…but are you really sure you want me, knowing I'm not in a wheelchair?"

"I'm sure," Darryl told her steadily, with a slow smile.

"You better be," Toria threatened him with a grin, "because if you're not, I'm coming after you. Got that?"

Darryl threw back his head and burst out laughing. "I guess I've been duly warned! Message received loud and clear, sergeant. Now how about we get on the plane before it leaves without us?" They all laughed then and said their goodbyes, shaking hands with their hosts and heading across the clearing for the plane dock.

When Kurt Jensen arrived, accompanied by Caitlyn D'Angelo, there was a slightly pensive look on his face. "Is something wrong, Mr. Jensen?" asked Leslie.

"Well, sort of," Kurt said. "I mean, if all my lottery winnings were just a fantasy, what about Jeff McKay? After I helped him out, with his new clothes and enough cash to put a security deposit on an apartment…will he be right back where he started?"

"Not at all," said Roarke warmly. "You showed a great deal of generosity this weekend, Mr. Jensen, and I felt this merited special consideration. Officer McKay will be able to keep the portion of your winnings which you gave him as a gift."

"Super," said Kurt with a relieved grin, withdrawing one hand from his pocket to shake with Roarke. To his surprise, out came a small, colorful piece of stiff paper. "Oh, I forgot I had this! I bought it at Logan Airport right before I boarded my plane." He turned it around and held it up so that Roarke, Leslie and Caitlyn could see it; it was a Mass Megabucks lottery ticket.

"Never say die, I guess," Caitlyn remarked, laughing. She looked at Leslie. "We never really knew each other, but I was one of a crowd that hung out with your friend Frida Olsson in high school. You know what the funny thing is? When I leave here with Kurt, I'll be heading home. I was born in Boston and lived there till I was ten—that's when my dad was sent to Coral Island, and I grew up on the Air Force base there. I'd been considering taking a trip back to Massachusetts, but I never thought it'd happen this way."

Leslie laughed. "It's funny how life turns out sometimes. I wish you and Mr. Jensen both lots of luck." She shook hands with Caitlyn as a young native man approached the little group and handed Roarke a copy of that morning's Fantasy Island Chronicle.

"Your paper, Mr. Roarke," he said.

"Thank you," Roarke said, looking somewhat surprised but accepting it anyway. "I wondered why I didn't find it on the porch this morning." He glanced at the various headlines, then paused and looked at one item a little more closely. "Mr. Jensen, you might be interested in this." He handed Jensen the newspaper.

Jensen peered at the item Roarke pointed out, frowned with dawning realization and compared his ticket with the numbers listed on the page. After a long, stunned moment he met Roarke's gaze. "Who needs luck, Mr. Roarke?" he asked, an enormous grin splitting his face in two. "I just won a hundred grand in the Mass Megabucks!"

"Get outta here!" exclaimed Caitlyn, gaping at him.

"It's not exactly two hundred million," Leslie said, amused.

Jensen shrugged. "That's probably just as well. Thanks to you and my fantasy, I know exactly how to handle it now." Laughing once again, Roarke and Leslie wished Jensen and Caitlyn a safe journey and watched them stroll up the plane dock arm in arm.

Then Leslie turned to Roarke and said, "Father, you didn't…"

"I didn't what?" Roarke inquired.

"Have any thing to do with his winning the lottery," she said.

Roarke rolled his eyes. "You are quite correct, Leslie—I didn't," he said. "What gave you the idea that I could possibly control the Massachusetts lottery?"

Leslie shrugged, her eyes twinkling. "Well, stranger things have happened," she said, and Roarke shook his head with exaggerated exasperation, making her laugh.

"Incidentally, Leslie, you spent quite a bit of time with your friends at the luau, trying to help Maureen find a name for her daughter," he observed in a deft change of subject as a jeep pulled up to take them back to the main house. "Tell me, did she ever make a decision?"

"After all this time, yes," Leslie said with a chortle. "She called me last evening to tell me that she and Grady have agreed to name the baby Brianna Marelle Harding."

"A very appealing name," Roarke said. "How did they find it?"

"Well," said Leslie, "Maureen told me this long involved story about how they came up with the middle name—they liked Marie and the rhythm was right, but they wanted something different, so they experimented a little and kind of made up the name 'Marelle'. She went on so long that I had to remind her that she didn't tell me where they got the baby's first name from. And after all the effort we put forth helping her out, the rest of us are going to get a lot of mileage from teasing her on this one."

The jeep pulled onto the Ring Road while Roarke turned in the front passenger seat and gave her a slightly impatient look. "How did it happen?"

Leslie leaned forward, already beginning to dissolve into laughter as she spoke. "She opened a book of baby names that Grady bought in town, closed her eyes and put her finger on one page. And when she opened them again, it was right on top of the name Brianna." Roarke gave her the most disbelieving look she had ever seen and shifted back around to face the front, shaking his head; Leslie fell back in her seat, the sound of her mirth trailing behind the moving vehicle.

THE END