§ § § -- February 15, 2004

Meanwhile, Jeremy slipped unobtrusively into the audience waiting to see the Battle of the Bands and settled back in his seat, waiting for Holly's band to go on. They were first on the docket, according to the program, and he was looking forward to hearing them.

But to his disbelief, when they came out, there were only the three young men, one of whom was doing the singing and playing the guitar at the same time. There was no sign at all of Holly Misuki. Jeremy stared for a moment, then twisted in his seat, peering all around him, trying to find her in the crowd. She was nowhere to be seen, and he couldn't figure out what had happened. He decided immediately not to bother with the rest of the contest and got up to leave, heading for the band's bungalow to see if Holly was there. As it happened, she wasn't, leaving Jeremy to wonder if it had been something he himself had said or done.

He waited till the scheduled end of the contest, then headed for the main house to talk to Roarke. The moment he stepped into the study, though, he halted in his tracks, for sitting in one of the chairs in front of Roarke's desk was none other than Holly Misuki. She and Roarke both turned at his entrance. "Hello, Jeremy," Roarke said.

"Hi, Mr. Roarke…Holly, what're you doing here?" Jeremy asked. "And how come you weren't in the contest?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you!" Holly exclaimed. "Why weren't you judging?"

"But you weren't there," Jeremy protested. "How would you know I wasn't judging? And how'd you know I was supposed to be a judge in the first place?"

Roarke chuckled. "Come in and sit down, Jeremy, and calm yourself," he suggested humorously. "If you two will permit me, I'll explain."

Jeremy took a chair, peering cautiously and curiously at Holly, who appeared to be as confused as he felt. "This is probably gonna be good," he said.

"I think so," Roarke said whimsically. "To begin with, Jeremy, Miss Misuki and her bandmates discovered you were to be a judge because, this morning, they received a copy of the contest program—just as did all the other bands and the audience, and even the judges. It was then that Miss Misuki came to my office and explained that she had met you yesterday, and was afraid of tainting your ability to judge the contest if you knew she was in one of the bands. So she informed me, as well as her bandmates, that she was quitting the group she belonged to."

Jeremy stared at Holly, who nodded. "Aw, man," he said softly, "I can't believe you did that. When you told me you were in a band that was in the contest, I decided to resign as a judge so I could come out and root for you to win without rigging the contest. I got my niece to take my place—that's why I wasn't there…how'd you know?"

"The guys told me," said Holly faintly, staring back at him. "I can't believe you'd…"

"But I don't get it," Jeremy protested, stunned. "Why would you quit? It was easier for me to quit as a judge. It's not like I was gonna make a career out of it."

Holly shook her head. "I wasn't aspiring to be a singer, either," she said. "I told you yesterday that I graduate from nursing school this summer. The band was a hobby, really. The guys are more serious than I am, and they were really looking to get someplace in the music world if they could. They can always hire another singer. I quit because I didn't want you thinking I was trying to give our band an edge to win." She turned red and let her head droop, her black hair slipping forward to cover her face. "I didn't want to lose your friendship over something like this…or anything else."

Jeremy reached over and put a hand atop hers. "Holly," he said, "that's the same reason I resigned. I didn't want anything jeopardizing what we've found with each other, and I wanted a clear conscience so I could ask you if I could keep seeing you after this weekend. I'd really like to, you know."

Holly looked up, eyes wide. "I'd love that! I'd been trying to get up the courage to ask if you still wanted to see me…"

Roarke smiled and remarked, "It appears that you've managed to attain a happy ending, despite the predicament you both faced."

Jeremy grinned. "That's for sure, Mr. Roarke," he said. "It was worth it, too. Finding Holly was a lot more important to me than judging a contest, fairly or not."

"And meeting Jeremy meant a lot more to me than winning," Holly agreed, squeezing his hand and beaming. "Thanks, Mr. Roarke. I came here with one fantasy and got an even better one instead."

Roarke said warmly, "You're both very welcome. Incidentally, it may interest you to know that your former bandmates won the contest, Miss Misuki."

"Oh wow," Holly exclaimed, and she and Jeremy both began to laugh. "Seems like we all got our fantasies this weekend!"

‡ ‡ ‡

Slightly self-conscious, Anton and Andrea faced each other over a small corner table at the pond restaurant, candlelight throwing odd flickering shadows on each other's features and reflecting deep red through glasses of French burgundy. They'd sustained a somewhat stilted conversation on their way here, but now that they were seated, they couldn't seem to find anything else to talk about. Andrea wondered why her mind had gone so blank; she had asked him how he liked living on the island, what had propelled him into this particular line of work, and whether he ever got homesick, while he'd asked her how she'd wound up as a journalist and what had brought her to the island. So they knew some vital statistics now, but Andrea wished they had left out some things so they could build another conversation. She was afraid that if neither spoke again, the date would fall apart.

Then, miraculously, a thought crossed her mind and she looked hesitantly up at Anton from behind the oversized, tasseled menu. "How did you find out that Prince Christian was opening a branch office on Fantasy Island? I mean…Germany's around the world from here, and I can't quite believe his appeal was broadcast worldwide."

Anton laughed quietly, to her relief. "It wasn't," he assured her. "I was working in a large factory that manufactures electronic components, and a co-worker of mine had been saving for years to make a trip to Fantasy Island. She was there for three weeks—half her year's vacation time—and when she returned, she had brought back a copy of the island's newspaper as a souvenir. She simply had to show it to everyone, of course. I asked if I could borrow it to read over my lunch, and she graciously agreed. It was there that I took notice of Prince Christian's advertisement. I thought it sounded almost too good to be true. The thing that convinced me it wasn't was the reputation the prince had. Lilla Jordsö is a small country, but most European countries are small and boundaries seem to change at least once each decade. Many of us in Europe have done away with royalty, but the Scandinavians and Dutch, the British and the Arcolosians remain stubborn holdouts." He smiled. "Christian was always quite unusual for royalty. His people took him to heart, perhaps from very early in his childhood—he was known as 'the happy prince' for many years. His insistence on maintaining his own residence, outside the royal castle, created headlines; so did his founding of his own business. He was rarely seen in public with a woman, and whenever he was, that made headlines too. Then his arranged marriage made even more headlines. These things get around, you see. They may not always cross the seas, but Europe is a crowded continent, so all European nations keep track of one another's celebrity set. Naturally, the news of the true provenance of the arranged marriage, and then its ending and his move to Fantasy Island to marry Miss Leslie, reverberated across Europe too. In any case, he opened his branch office about a year before the move. Knowing who he was—and wanting very much to get away from my boring, repetitive job—was enough to drive me to apply. I was quite fortunate that he hired me."

"So you just up and left your home and family, lock, stock and barrel?" Andrea asked in amazement. "That's really astounding. It takes a lot of guts to do that."

Anton smiled dismissively. "I think, if you want something badly enough, courage is not an issue. The wish to attain that goal seems to drive away fear." His smile fell away and he shifted in his chair. "In any case, it was easy enough for me."

"Why?" Andrea asked, then quickly added, "If you don't mind my asking…"

"If we are to develop a friendship," Anton said, "you'll know sooner or later. I have been divorced for more than ten years, and I have two children—a son and a daughter—who remain in Germany with their mother. Christian is very European in his generosity with vacation time, for we receive four weeks a year; and I use my four weeks to return to Germany so that I can see my children. Otherwise I should have no contact with them at all, for their mother refuses to allow them to come and visit me here."

Andrea frowned. "That hardly seems fair. I wonder why?"

"Perhaps she thinks that if they came to visit me here, they would never want to leave," Anton suggested with a touch of humor.

Andrea grinned. "I can understand that. I'm a native, as I mentioned on the way over here, so when my own divorce was going through, the allure of coming home again was just too much to resist. I have two daughters, and they were both born in Massachusetts. My younger one seems to be adjusting well, but my older girl is extremely resentful. I'm just hoping that having most of my family here on the island will help make things a little more attractive for her. Most of my brothers and sisters live here—one brother and one sister are in Hawaii, which isn't all that far away. But she just wants to go back to Massachusetts, and there are days when I'd be happy to send her—if she had somewhere to go back to. Her father doesn't want her to live with him."

"Why not?" Anton asked.

"Because of the way our divorce came about," Andrea said. "I suspected Troy of having an affair for a few months, but it stunned me to realize that it was with a man and not a woman. He came out of the closet to me out of the blue one day, and in the next breath said he wanted a divorce because he was tired of pretending. The irony of his being openly gay was that my older daughter accepted it just fine, while her sister didn't."

Anton nodded slowly. "Perhaps that explains the older girl's resentment of the move. She didn't mind having a gay father and would have preferred to live with him rather than leave the home she knew all her life."

Andrea stared at him for a moment, then breathed, "I never thought of it that way. I must be an idiot! Now that you say that, I can see it perfectly." She shook her head at herself. "I guess place means more to some people than others. I can actually understand the way Janine feels. I had the same attitude about here. Don't get me wrong—I really loved living in Massachusetts. Boston's a lively and amazing city, and I think it has a particular sophistication you'd never find in a lot of other cities, no matter what New Yorkers may claim. It has a certain Old World veneer about it. But see, when it came down to what I was going to do after my divorce, there wasn't any question but that I come back to Fantasy Island. It's where I was born and raised, and when I first set foot here with Janine and Denise, I immediately felt a sense of homecoming. That told me I made the right choice."

"It seems so," Anton agreed and smiled. "My children aren't very happy with me that I made such a move myself. They think I've lost my mind. I tell them they are always free to come and visit me, and see for themselves what I've grown to admire. I think they would like to come, but their mother prevents it, for whatever reasons. Perhaps when they are old enough to choose for themselves, they will defy her and come anyway."

"What are their names?" Andrea asked.

"My son is Fredrich—Fredi for short—and my daughter is Beatrisa, called Trisa. I miss them a great deal, but we do talk to each other through e-mail, so I can stay in touch and know what is happening in their lives. A pity that your former husband doesn't do the same with your daughters."

Andrea shrugged. "I'm sorry about it only for their sake. A father shouldn't divorce his kids when he dumps their mother." She cleared her throat and smiled at him. "Troy should take an example from you. Anyway, maybe we can talk about happier things…like, for one thing, how you've adjusted to living here. Prince Christian had two humongous reasons for doing it—Miss Leslie, of course, and then his business, and I hear he's really happy here. What about you?"

The rest of their date went very well, and they agreed to another before Anton took Andrea home on the motorcycle he used to get around the island. Andrea waved to him as he roared off down the street, then let herself in and yawned contentedly, optimistic that her social life was beginning to look up.

Janine, Denise and Jeremy were sitting at the kitchen table, playing Scrabble and eating popcorn. "Hi, sis, how was the date?" Jeremy asked.

"Great," said Andrea. "I like Anton a lot, and we had a very good time."

Janine stared at her. "You mean you're gonna date this guy now?" she demanded. "So that means we're never going back home?"

Andrea closed her eyes. "I should have known I was going to get a reaction like that from you," she said tiredly. "Thank you, Janine, for deliberately and willfully taking the joy out of the moment. I suppose you've appointed yourself my judge, jury and executioner for destroying your entire life." She was tired and angry at Janine's continued hostility, and she couldn't deal with it anymore. "Sorry, Jeremy…I'm going to bed." She left the room, battling back tears, but determined all the same to have her own life no matter who might protest. Camille had been astonished to learn that she had forged ahead with that same determination after her rape; she intended to do no less now in the wake of her divorce. But it hurt to know that she was taking all the blame for the way Troy had changed their lives.

"Nice going, Janine," Jeremy said dryly, reaching for another handful of popcorn.

"I'm supposed to be glad about all this?" Janine snapped. "I didn't want to come here. I wanted to stay in Brookline and live with Dad, but nobody listened to me."

Denise rolled her eyes. "I keep telling you, Dad wouldn't want you around, any more than he wanted me and Mom around," she said disgustedly. "He's a proud gay man now, and he's decided that an ex-wife and two kids would cramp his style and his new relationship. I think you're totally blind, Janine, and stupid on top of that."

Jeremy peered at her. "You're really embarrassed that Troy came out, aren't you?"

"Every kid in my class in Brookline made fun of me when they heard," Denise said bitterly. "He's a well-known chiropractor, and he never made any secret of being gay once he sprung it on us. He even kept pictures of his lover all over his office. All of a sudden we weren't good enough for him anymore. He was glad to get rid of us." She got up and stalked out of the kitchen.

Jeremy contemplated her diatribe for a moment, then peered at Janine, who was scowling after her sister. "Is she resentful of Troy specifically, or just that he's gay?"

"I don't know," Janine snorted. "It's her problem, not mine. I think she's wrong anyway. Mom wanted total custody, and she didn't give Dad a chance to contest. She could have made it easier on us and stayed in Brookline—like having divorced parents wasn't bad enough, now we have to start our lives all over again in a strange place. I wish I could go back home. I know Dad would take me in—he'd have to. And now that Mom's dating, it's just another damn change in our lives. Haven't we been punished enough?"

"I don't remember getting an invitation to the Pity Janine Polidari Festival," Jeremy said caustically, making her stare at him. "You obviously have the idea that everything that's happened in the last year was calculated deliberately to ruin your entire life. Troy came out of the closet specifically to embarrass you and Denise. He and your mother got a divorce just so they could make your life miserable and turn you, Janine Polidari, into a statistic. Andrea decided to move back to her birthplace for no other reason than to tear you away from all your friends and make you start over in a school where you know nobody. Yeah," Jeremy concluded, his voice dripping sarcasm, "I can see where they all meant to hurt you and got their jollies out of it. Poor, poor, abused Janine." He got up from the table and gave her a sharp glare. "I suppose you expected Andrea to stay in a place where she was sure to be confronted day after day with the fact that her ex is in a new relationship. I guess it was fine with you for someone to be unhappy, just as long as it wasn't you, huh? The world revolves around Janine, apparently. Funny, I thought it revolved around the sun. I better contact the island schoolteachers and correct them."

"You don't have to be sarcastic, Uncle Jeremy," Janine grumbled, red-faced.

"Sure I do," said Jeremy. "You've really been a pain in the butt just about ever since you got here. You're barely civil to most of us, and you treat your mother like a pariah. It's time you grew up, Janine, and time you realized that you're not the only person on this planet who has a right to be happy." He left for his basement room, a heavy silence hanging behind him, while Janine stared at the remains of the popcorn, the half-finished Scrabble game, and her own slowly emerging sense of mingled outrage and guilt.