§ § § -- July 14, 1993
About three hours later Leslie was at the pool taking down a list of supplies its bartender, a handsome young native islander named Carl, would need for the weekend when there came an exuberant yell from the pool behind her. "Cannonbaaaaaaalllll!" She and Carl both turned just in time to see Alphonse launch himself off the diving board and land in the pool with a splash all out of proportion to his size, splattering water far enough that Leslie jumped back to avoid getting hit.
"Good grief," said Carl, astonished. "What was that?"
"A cannonball, obviously," said Leslie with heavy sarcasm. "Now we'll have to refill the pool on his account, most likely."
"Sorry about that," said a sheepish New York City accent, at which Carl and Leslie turned again to see Cornelius. "Alphonse loves cannonball dives. If you let him, that's all he'll do all day long. Say, young lady, d'you mind if we sit and get acquainted a little? I mean, if you have some spare time. You didn't look too busy."
Leslie looked at Carl, who smiled. "I think that's all I'll need, Miss Leslie," he said.
"Okay," Leslie agreed and tucked away her list. "Well, Mr. Kelly, I guess I can take a few minutes. Although for the life of me, I'm not sure why you'd want to get acquainted with me. You were so busy with Tattoo last time you were here, I didn't think you even noticed I was there."
"Oh, we did," Cornelius said, offering her his arm, to her very visible surprise. "Right this way, my dear young lady. Would you care for a refreshment? I'll buy."
"If this is your way of buttering me up…" Leslie began, and he hurriedly shook his head. "Well, all right, but I don't drink, especially when I'm on the job—which is nearly all the time. Carl should have some mango juice, so I'll take a glass of that."
"Right. Be back in a jiffy," Cornelius promised, pulling out a chair at the nearest empty table and waiting till she was seated before trotting off to the bar. Leslie turned in her seat to watch him go, wondering what he was really up to, before her attention was snagged by movement at the pool and she watched Alphonse perform another cannonball jump off the diving board. This time he splashed some sunbathing teenage girls who had just stretched out on their beach towels. They leaped to their feet, squealing with indignation; Alphonse came up, noted their reaction and waved at them, weakly apologetic.
Giggles sounded from nearby and she turned again to find Julianne and Jennette Ichino standing near her table, clad in bathing suits and carrying beach totes. "Hi, guys, how's your summer going?" she asked.
"Hi, Miss Leslie," said Jennette. "It was pretty boring till that little guy and his friend showed up this morning."
Leslie stared at them in surprise. "You saw them arrive?"
"Yeah…we were walking around, and we were at the plane dock at just the right time," said Julianne, all innocence. "They got off the plane and asked us where the main house was and if Mr. Roarke was available. We thought that Alphonse guy was a kid at first. Chuckie Tsu was picking on him all the way down the landing dock."
Leslie snickered; Julianne and Jennette babysat for the boy and his siblings from time to time, and occasionally Camille regaled her and their other friends with secondhand stories of Julianne's and Jennette's escapades with him. "Hmm…so you're responsible for sending those two characters over to disrupt our nice peaceful morning," she said teasingly. The girls blushed and she laughed. "No harm done. Where's Camille been lately?"
"Gee, she didn't tell you?" Julianne asked in surprise. "She and Jimmy and David are on a vacation trip, and they decided to go to California. Andrea's the only one in the family who's ever been to the states except for Hawaii, and all the rest of us're tired of being jealous of her. Anyway, Camille wanted to see if she could maybe spot some celebrities, and David kept hollering about going to Disneyland."
Leslie laughed. "Good for them. How long are they supposed to be gone?"
"Till August," said Jennette, just as Cornelius returned with two glasses. He stopped and peered with interest at the fourteen-year-old twins.
"So we meet again," he said. "Never did catch your names."
"We didn't tell you," Julianne said. "I'm Julianne Ichino, and this is my sister Jennette. We're half of the quads."
Cornelius seated himself, peering at her without comprehension. "Is that a new singing group or something?"
That sent Julianne and Jennette into a vast fit of uncontrollable giggles, and Leslie let out a laugh of her own. "No, they mean they're part of a set of quadruplets. Identical twin girls and identical twin boys, all born together. Their older sister is a friend of mine. Hey, you two, you came here to swim, didn't you?"
Still giggling madly, they both nodded. "Is there gonna be any water left in the pool after he gets done, though?" Jennette wondered, at which she and Julianne both began to laugh again. From behind them there was another voluminous splash.
"Oh, geez," Leslie groaned, torn between laughter and annoyance. "Maybe you two could distract him. Talk him into a game of water polo or something."
"Two against one?" said Julianne doubtfully. "Besides, he's smaller than we are."
"Don't let him hear you say that," Cornelius broke in. "Alphonse has been a friend of mine for many years, and he has a lot of pride. Challenge him to a water-polo game, you two against him, and he'll take you on without a second thought. He might even beat you."
The girls looked at each other skeptically and grinned. "Aw, let's try it," Jennette said. "At least we can cool off."
"True," Julianne agreed. "Would you watch our bags, please, Miss Leslie?"
"For a while," Leslie said, "but I can't stay too long. Don't worry, nobody'll take them. Have fun, you two." The girls piled their bags into one of the empty chairs and hurried off to the pool, stepping into the shallow end.
"Well," said Cornelius. "You were, what, about their age when we were here last?"
Leslie regarded him and smiled slowly. "Yes, I was, as a matter of fact. You and Alphonse happened to kidnap Tattoo on the weekend of my fourteenth birthday."
Cornelius blinked and thought back, then reddened. "Oh. Come to think of it, Mr. Roarke did have us serve meals and cake at a party that Sunday night. So that was for your birthday, huh? We had no idea." He leaned across the table. "How old are you now?"
"Twenty-eight," said Leslie. "As you can see, a lot's changed in fourteen years."
"Yeah, that's for sure. For starters, you're Mr. Roarke's assistant, according to those two young ladies over there, and I noticed that you're not all dressed up. Heck, even Mr. Roarke's not wearing his usual white suit, and I thought white suits were the only clothes he ever owned. Expanded his wardrobe, did he?"
"We save the formal white business attire for the weekends," said Leslie. "It's easier to get things done during the week when we wear more casual clothes." Roarke still tended to favor light-colored clothing, which was prudent in a tropical climate; but during the week he often wore short sleeves and sometimes even shorts. Leslie usually wore shorts and summer tops in assorted styles, or sundresses, and preferred a variety of bright tropical colors along with the occasional pastel. Today she was in white shorts and a peach-colored top with wide straps that tied over the shoulders.
"I see," said Cornelius thoughtfully. "So how'd you become assistant?"
"Tattoo got married and moved back to Paris with his wife," Leslie told him. "I myself got married a couple of years later and left the island, but I was widowed after five years and needed time to grieve. So I came back home to Fantasy Island. Father was between assistants at the time, and I asked for the job and managed to get it."
"Oh," Cornelius mumbled, processing this information, then looked up. "Hey, you just called him 'Father', if I'm not mistaken. A little indiscretion…?"
Leslie rolled her eyes. "Really, Mr. Kelly, you do have a way of believing the worst about people, don't you? He formally adopted me as a high-school graduation gift."
"Pardon me," Cornelius said sheepishly. "You're right, I do have a bad habit of sticking my foot in my mouth. Uh…onward and upward. You happen to have any idea how Mr. Roarke got hold of this island and got his business going?"
Leslie, sipping from her glass, paused and regarded him with renewed suspicion. "Tell me, Mr. Kelly, you wouldn't happen to be picking my brain, would you?"
"Who, me? Never," Cornelius said immediately, flapping a hand at her and shaking his head vigorously. "I just thought I could pick up a few useful tips. After all, like I said, I want Kelly's Jewel to be an exclusive resort, and rich people do prefer certain amenities…if you know what I mean."
"We're not exclusively for the rich…as you yourself should know," Leslie pointed out deliberately, lowering her chin and eyeing him through her bangs.
Cornelius got her meaning and turned so red she thought his head might explode. "I see your point." He cleared his throat loudly, drained the entire remaining contents of his glass and got hastily to his feet. "Well, uh, thanks for your time, Leslie. Alphonse!" His voice rang off the cabanas and the retaining wall at the back of the pool. "Get outta there, we got some stuff to do. Hubba hubba!"
Protesting, Alphonse climbed out of the pool and slopped along in Cornelius' wake. Leslie stared after them and groaned to herself. "He still says that?" she muttered, shook her head and drank the rest of her juice before returning to work.
