Finding Fisher

by Dakota Madison

  “What do you mean?” I witnessed her struggling for months to finally get the paper done.

  “He says I didn’t write the paper. His words were that, “It’s too good to be something Nicole Parker produced on her own. He’s convinced that it’s plagiarized.”

  I shake my head. “I saw you working on it for months. I saw all of your struggles. How can he possibly think you didn’t write it?”

  She runs her hand through her mop of messy hair. “I have no idea what I’m going to do. I’m supposed to be graduating in less than a week. All of my family is flying out to see me graduate.”

  “I’m a pre-law student. Maybe I can do something to help. Let’s gather up everything you used to write the paper. Do you still have all of your notes? Your books? Your articles? Drafts of the paper?”

  “I was just getting ready to get rid of all of it. Thank goodness I didn’t.”

  “Let’s gather it all up and take it to your professor.”

  Then to my surprise Nicole actually gives me a hug. I didn’t know she had a thoughtful or affectionate bone in her body. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me until your professor rescinds his accusation.”

  ***

  Dr. Pilchard has a reputation on campus as being a hardass. When Nicole told me he was serving as her honors thesis advisor I had a feeling it might be a problem. Even though Nicole is a bright person she comes across as a big mess. Sort of like Pig-Pen from the Peanuts cartoons a huge cloud of debris seems to follow Nicole wherever she goes. I’m not surprised that Dr. Pilchard completely underestimated her abilities.

  Nicole and I are each carrying large boxes filled with notes, articles and drafts of her paper as proof that she actually did write her thesis. I organized everything from the beginning of the term until she submitted her final document as evidence of her progress.

  I practiced making a convincing argument a number of times, but my heart still feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest when we enter Dr. Pilchard’s office.

  He’s sitting behind several massive stacks of papers stretched across his desk.

  “Miss Parker.” He looks up at us through his wire-framed glasses. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  She clears her throat. “I’ve brought evidence that my honor’s thesis is my own work.”

  His eyes narrow as he looks over at me. “And who is this?”

  “This is my roommate, Chloe Woodford.”

  “Any relation to Montgomery Woodford?”

  I nod. “He’s my father.”

  “Good man. We were at Harvard together.”

  I’m not sure how to respond, but Nicole beats me to the punch. “Chloe was accepted to Harvard law.”

  “Is that right? So you think you’re going to be a lawyer? Why don’t you show me what you’ve got?”

  I remove the first piece of evidence from the boxes and state my case. I continue showing Dr. Pilchard all of the evidence Nicole and I gathered and clearly stating why he has no alternative but to support our claim: that the thesis was entirely written by Nicole and that she did not plagiarize.

  Dr. Pilchard scours over all of the pieces of evidence we give him. Once we’ve handed him the last draft he throws up a hand. “I’ve seen enough.” Then he removes his glasses and rubs his bird’s beak of a nose. “It’s not very often I have to admit to making a mistake. As a matter of fact I can’t remember the last time it happened. But I think you’ve presented a convincing argument, Miss Woodford. I believe Miss Parker is the author of her thesis and I am withdrawing my accusation of plagiarism.”

  Nicole and I glace at each other and she gives me a big grin.

  “Now if you’ll pack up all of your evidence I need to get back to grading the rest of these final examinations.”

  Nicole wastes no time heaving all of her notes and other stuff into the two boxes. Just as we’re about to carry them back out Dr. Pilchard says, “Miss Woodford, may I speak with you for just a moment.”

  My stomach knots. I have no idea what he wants, but it’s probably not good. I stack my box on top the one Nicole is holding and she does her best to waddle out the door carrying both of them.

  “I was impressed with the way you handled your roommate’s case.”

  I gulp. “It wasn’t really a case. I’m not a lawyer yet. Obviously. I’m not even a law student for a few months.”

  “Nonetheless I’d like to recommend you for an internship this fall. If you don’t already have one arranged.”

  I shake my head. “No. I don’t have one.”

  “Good. I know the first year of law school is demanding so it will just be a few hours a week. Not much income, but great experience. Is this something you would be interested in?”

  “Of course.” It would solve my problem of having to find a part-time job to support myself.

  He reaches into his desk and pulls out a business card. Then he writes something on the back. “My sister has a law firm outside of Boston. Let me give her a call first, but I know she’ll be interested in meeting you. You’ll fit in perfectly at her firm.”

  “Thank you.” I take the card from his hand.

  ***

  “You’re the best roommate ever,” Nicole says when I get back to our apartment.

  “I’m the only roommate you’ve ever had,” I remind her.

  “That doesn’t diminish your awesomeness.”

  “I’m exhausted,” I tell her. “I really need to get some rest. But on a positive note I may have scored a job for fall term.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

  “Apparently Dr. Pilchard likes my style.”

  “That may be the only thing he does like. In the entire world. Ever.”

  “You’re graduating. So that’s one problem solved.”

  “Still no word on an apartment for law school?”

  I shake my head. “And Fisher has been extremely evasive every time I bring the subject up. I’m starting to get concerned that he won’t be able to find me a place. I’m afraid he’s being too picky. I know he wants me to be in a safe place, but I may have to settle for something less than ideal on my new budget.”

  “Your parents still haven’t given in?”

  I shake my head. “They haven’t budged. They do not want me to be with Fisher and we want to be together. So we’re kind of at an impasse.”

  “They’ll still coming for graduation?”

  “As far as I know.”

  ***

  “Only three more sleeps,” Fisher says. “You’re still okay with picking me up at the airport. I could rent a car.”

  “You don’t have to do that. Classes are over. I’ve got nearly everything packed. I don’t have that much left to do.”

  “Guess what?”

  “You found me a place to live.”

  “I’m still looking.”

  “Fisher, you do realize that I have to be out there for orientation in eight weeks. I’m starting to panic.”

  “There’s no reason to panic. I told you I’d find something and I will. You just have to trust me, okay?”

  I take in a deep breath and try to calm my nerves. “Okay.”

  “What I was going to tell you is that my mom has a boyfriend. Her boss’s son, Everest, came back to Old Town. Apparently he was doing mission work in Africa. Rebuilding a village. He and my mom went to high school together and reconnected. Now his mission seems to be rebuilding my mom. He loves kids and absolutely adores Jackson. He’s been helping my mom out a lot with him. So I’ve had a lot more time to work on the house. I finally fixed the front porch.”

  I laugh. “It’s about time. That thing was a death trap.”

  “I also remodeled the kitchen and bathroom. I got an estimate from a real estate agent and it looks like I could make close to a hundred thousand, if I ever decide to sell it.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  “It was in bad shape when I bought it. It was a foreclosure. I guess all the work I put into i
t will pay off someday.”

  “I’m very proud of you,” I tell him. “Not many people our age can even say they own a house, let alone make that much money on the investment.”

  “Sweat equity,” he jokes.

  “It’s because you’re so talented with your hands.”

  “And I can’t wait to remind you just how talented these hands are.”

  “Three more sleeps,” I remind him.

  “I can’t wait, Buttercup.”

  “Me neither.”

  ***

  “Your room looks so bare,” Fisher says.

  We’re both lying in my bed, naked in each other’s arms. Funny how we always seem to end up that way.

  “I’m all packed up and ready to go. I just need a place to move to.” I glance over at him for emphasis.

  “Can I give you your graduation present a day early?” He asks.

  “Nice way to change the subject. Did I happen to mention how anxious I am about finding a place?”

  “Fifty-two times,” he teases.

  I frown. “I know you haven’t kept count.”

  “But I know how much you like exact measurements and counts.”

  “If they’re accurate,” I correct.

  He scoots over to the end of the bed and removes a tiny box from the pocket of his jeans.

  Then he hands me the box. I can’t image what’s small enough to fit inside. It seems even too small for jewelry. When I shake it the contents sounds clunky.

  “What is it?” I furrow my brow.

  He shakes his head. “You really don’t like surprises do you?”

  “Just tell me what it is.”

  He laughs. “You could just open it to find out.”

  “Fine.” I slowly open the box not sure what to expect. The only thing inside is a key.

  “What is this key for?” I ask.

  “My heart,” he replies matter-of-factly.

  “That’s really corny.”

  “You know you have my heart in your hand. You’ve had it since the first moment we met.”

  “Really? I didn’t think you liked me when we met. I thought I kind of grew on you.”

  “Buttercup, I was completely crazy about you. I was just trying to play it cool. And things were a bit complicated. Being my twin brother’s fiancée.”

  “Point taken.” I remove the key from the box. “Seriously. Why did you give me a key?”

  “Because I bought you a house.”

  “I’m sorry. What was that?” I want to make sure I heard him correctly.

  “I sold my house and bought one for you. In Somerville. It’s not that far from Harvard. So you’ll have a place to live and not have to worry about rent. That way you can concentrate on law school.”

  My head is filled with so many questions I hardly know where to begin. “You can’t buy me a house.”

  “Well it’s a little late for that because I already did.”

  “But you loved your house in Old Town.”

  “I also got a boatload of money for it. Enough to put a huge down payment on your house.”

  “But where will you live?”

  He laughs. “I was hoping you’d invite me to live with you. It’s a bit of a fixer-upper, so I’ll be working on it for a while. Just like I did with the house I just sold. Only this time you’ll be helping me design it.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’m kind of in shock.”

  “Do you want to see photos of it?”

  I nod. “Of course I do.”

  He removes his cellphone from his pocket and pulls up some photos. Then he moves close so that we can both see the pictures on his phone. He’s right. It needs work. But it has a lot of character and I can see it has a lot of potential. As he flips through all the photos of the interior and exterior of the house I’m overwhelmed with emotion. I try to swipe at the tears rolling down my face because I don’t want him to see that I’m crying.

  But of course I’m not fast enough.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispers.

  “I can’t believe you bought me a house. Who does that?”

  “Me apparently.” Then he kisses me. “I told you I’d always be there for you. I meant it.”

  “But what are you going to do about your business? You’ve spent so much time building it up.”

  He smiles. “That’s the great thing about being a mobile mechanic. I can go anywhere. And believe it or not cars break down in Massachusetts too. I’ve already talked to a few auto repair shops in the area and they love the idea of working with me. They’ll send me out instead of calling a tow truck. Once I get the cars started I’ll send the clients over to them for follow-up repairs.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this was what you were planning?”

  “I wanted it to be a graduation surprise and I didn’t want you to try and talk me out of it.”

  I laugh. “You’re right. I would have tried to talk you out of it. You grew up in Old Town. All of your family and friends are there. You’re going to leave it all just for me?”

  “You’re the one who is always talking about me getting you out of your comfort zone. It’s about time you returned the favor.”

  I put my arms around Fisher and give him a big hug. “Has anyone ever told you how amazing you are?”

  He laughs. “No, definitely not. That’s not a word anyone has ever used to describe me. Franklin was the amazing one. I was always the other brother.”

  I shake my head. “You’re the one who’s amazing. In so many ways. I’m glad I found you, Fisher.”

  “I’m glad I found you too.” He slowly runs a finger down my cheek. “We’d better get out of bed and get dressed. I don’t want to make you late for your own graduation.”

  ***

  My mind is so preoccupied that when the Provost asks the candidates for the Bachelor of Arts and Bachelor of Science degrees to stand for the conferral of our degrees I almost miss it. Luckily my roommate elbows me in the ribs just in time for me not to publically embarrass myself.

  Once the commencement ceremony is over I wait for the masses of graduates and spectators to recede before attempting to find Fisher and my parents. Luckily Fisher is quick to find me. And quick to pull me into his arms for a big hug, which nearly lifts me off the ground

  “I’m so proud of you, Buttercup.”

  When he finally lets me go I’m a little taken aback to see my parents both standing right in front of us glaring at us.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Woodford,” Fisher says. “Nice to see you again.”

  “At least you’re fully clothed this time,” my dad says harshly.

  I’m a little surprised when my mom elbows him. It’s rare when they don’t completely back each other one hundred percent.

  “Congratulations,” my dad says quickly. “We’re very proud of you.” But he doesn’t sound proud. His words sound rote and hollow.

  My mom gives me a quick hug then hands me a card.

  “Should I open it now?” I ask. My parents didn’t say anything about taking me out to dinner, or having any kind of celebration. I’m sure it’s because they don’t want to spend any more time with Fisher than absolutely necessary.

  My mom and dad eye each other and then my dad nods.

  I open the card. It’s a sappy for our daughter on her graduation card. But what strikes my attention is that they put my credit card inside.

  “You’re giving me my credit card back?” I ask.

  My dad is having a hard time looking at me, but he does give another quick nod.

  Then my mom says, “We know how difficult the first year of law school can be. We don’t want you to struggle.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “I appreciate this. I really do. But I don’t need it.”

  My dad looks struck when I try to hand it back to him. He waves my hand away. “We want you to have it.”

  “I have a place to live and I have an internship lined up for the fall.”

  “Where will you be livin
g?” my mom asks. “I thought you were having problems with the deposit.”

  “I did. But Fisher is helping me. He bought me a house.”

  Both my parents’ eyes grow wide. Then my dad asks, “How is that possible?”

  “I owned a home in New Jersey,” Fisher says. “My business does very well, so I was able to pay cash for it. It needed a lot of work, but I slowly fixed it up and sold it for a healthy profit. I used the profits and invested in another fixer-upper that Chloe and I will work on together.” He grabs my hand and squeezes it and I can’t help but smile.

  And I swear I see the slightest of smiles on my dad’s face. Maybe it’s a small step in what will probably be a long journey to them accepting Fisher.

  But at least it’s a step.

  Epilogue

  One Year Later

  “It’s official,” I tell Fisher as we head toward our front door. “I passed my first year of law school. I’m not at the top of the class, but I’m pretty close.”

  I shriek as he lifts me off the ground and spins me around. “I’m not surprised at all. I knew you could do it.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you,” I assure him. “You supported me every step of the way.”

  “You know you could have done it without me, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to do it without out…”

  He gives me a quick kiss. “That’s more like it.”

  As he unlocks the door he says, “I have a few surprises for you.”

  I roll my eyes. “Ugh, you know how I hate surprises.”

  “Even good ones?”

  “Even good ones. Even great ones.”

  He shrugs. “Well, you’re just going to have to put up with them, Buttercup. Because you’re going to get them whether you like it or not.”

  “Fine.” I heave an exaggerated sigh. “If you must. Surprise away.”

  I gasp when we enter the house. All of the hideous, outdated carpet is gone and we’ve got the beautiful Brazilian Walnut hardwood floors I’ve wanted since we moved in. And it looks stunning against the paint and trim we selected.

  “Good surprise, isn’t it?” he prods.

  “It’s a great surprise,” I admit. “You really had enough time to get all of this done while I was finishing my exams?”