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He turned it to read the tiny inscription that said, "Love, your sister Annie."

It was the first time either of us had written anything that acknowledged our true relationship. Luke's eyes moistened with feeling, but he kept the tears imprisoned within their lids, not wanting to seem unmanly by shedding them, even out of happiness. I saw him try hard to close off his emotions and clamp down hard on them.

"Put it on," I said quickly. He slipped it over his finger and held it up in the sunlight. How the stone sparkled.

"It is so beautiful. How did you know I liked this jewel?"

"I remember you said so once when we were looking at a magazine."

"You're amazing." He stared down at the ring and ran the tip of his right forefinger over it and over it. Then he looked up quickly, his eyes bright with mischief. He reached behind himself and brought forward a flat, thin box in pink gift wrap. First, I opened the card.

Amazingly, as if we had both agreed that our eighteenth birthday should end all pretense, his card was "To a Sister on the Occasion of her Eighteenth Birthday." Whenever he gave me a card, he often wrote his own, more personal lines next to the printed ones.

.

The years may come and go, and time, like the magical maze we've dreamt about, might separate us. But never fear my ability to solve the puzzle and find you wherever you might be.

Happy Birthday,

Luke

.

"Oh Luke. These words are gift enough. More precious to me than even my new car."

His smile was small and tight.

"Open the gift."

My fingers trembled as I tried to tear away the paper neatly. I wanted to save it, save the ribbon, save every moment and everything associated with this wonderful day. Under the paper was a cream-colored box. I lifted the cover and saw tissue paper. Peeling it back, I gazed down at a bronze picture of a large house, beneath which was inscribed, "Farthinggale Manor, Our Magic Castle, Love, Luke."

I looked up with some confusion and he leaned forward, taking my hands into his as he explained.

"One day I was looking through an old trunk of my mother's in the attic and I came upon this newspaper clipping she had saved. It was from the social pages and it had a write-up of your parents' wedding reception. In the background of this picture of the guests and the party, was a clear view of Farthinggale Manor. I took it to a photographer who isolated the building in the photograph and then had the bronze replica made. That's actually it."

"Oh Luke." I ran my fingers over the embossed metal.

"Just so wherever you are and whatever you do, you'll never forget our fantasy game," he said softly. "And I never will."

"Of course," he said sitting back quickly, aware of how closely our faces were to one another's, "that's the way it was years and years ago. Who knows what it looks like now."

"It's a wonderful gift," I cried, "because it has special meaning for us. Only you would think of something like this, have to keep it hidden from my mother. You know how she gets when we make any references to Farthy."

"Oh, I know. I was going to suggest that myself. I don't have to have any other reasons for her not to like me."

"Oh she likes you, Luke. You should hear how she talks about you. She is very proud of you, really!" I exclaimed.

"Really?"

I saw how important that was to him.

"Yes, really. She never stops talking about your being our class valedictorian. She thinks it's just wonderful how you've overcome obstacles to reach great heights,"

He nodded with understanding.

"Tall mountains may be harder to climb, Annie," he said, "but the view from the top is always worth it. Go for the tall ones. That's been my motto." He stared at me so hard. The mountain between us was just too tall.

"Come on now," I said, gathering the card and wrapping paper with the gift, "It's time for your ride in my new car."