Free Poison Ivy by Cynthia Riggs

flecks and those deep, hard creases down his face, made him look a bit frightening at the moment.
    â€œFurthermore, I already have a Ph.D. in computer science, and taught long enough to know how wicked academia can be. This was an opportunity to explore a subject I’m interested in and know a lot about, and this goddamned bitch stole my work. Sorry, Mrs. Trumbull.”
    â€œQuite understandable.”
    They were both silent after that. Victoria tapped her fingers on the checked tablecloth. Christopher stared out the window.
    The guinea fowl were making their rounds, four adults and a dozen keets, uttering soft chucking sounds. They stopped next to the silver poplar stump where Victoria had scattered birdseed. The keets were about three weeks old now. One after another, they hopped onto the stump and extended stubby wings to flutter from the foot-high perch. The four adults had protected them, so far, from hawks, skunks, raccoons, and automobiles.
    They watched until the guineas herded their babies across the drive and into the west pasture.
    Victoria was the first to speak. “What made you decide on your research topic?”
    â€œMy great-great-grandmother was a Wampanoag.”
    â€œJodi’s grandmother was deaf and that spurred her interest in a career in signing for the hearing impaired. Who else is that woman robbing of both credit and incentive?” Victoria stood and headed into the kitchen. “I think we could use a cup of tea.”
    While the water was heating, the sky had darkened. Raindrops raised small fountains of dust in the drive. Victoria returned to her seat. “Have you spoken to the other graduate student working under Professor Chadwick?”
    â€œNo. I thought I was Roberta’s only Island student until I met Jodi at a baseball game one of her boys and my daughter were playing in. We got to talking.”
    Victoria nodded.
    â€œLearned she was working on her master’s. I was, too. Sociology, me, too. Advisor, Professor Chadwick? Yup.”
    The teakettle whistled and Victoria stood.
    â€œI’ll take care of that, Mrs. Trumbull.”
    â€œNext time,” said Victoria, already in the kitchen.
    â€œRoberta submitted the abstract of my paper to the journal.” He turned to the kitchen while she was brewing the tea. “I have to tell you, Mrs. Trumbull, I feel positively murderous toward that woman.”
    Victoria carried the teapot into the cookroom and poured tea into mugs. “I assume you’ve come to see me for a reason, not simply to complain about the situation.” She handed a mug to him. “Do you take anything in your tea?”
    â€œBlack is fine.” He leaned forward. “I need your help, Mrs. Trumbull. Between us I think we can make a small dent in an outrageous practice.”
    Victoria held her own mug in both hands. “Have you tried going through the university’s grievance channels?”
    â€œYeah.” He snorted. “Good ole buddy network. They closed ranks. I’m just a student, after all. They’re tenured professors, and Chadwick is up for tenure review.”
    â€œDo you have a suggestion as to how I can help?”
    â€œHave you met Chadwick?”
    Victoria shook her head. “I’ve only heard about her. Jodi was quite enthusiastic about her at first.”
    â€œShe puts on a good act. Comes across as warm and fuzzy.” He sipped his tea and set his mug down. “She thinks of herself as a big sister to her students. A lot of crap.”
    â€œIf you think it would help, I’ll speak to her.”
    Christopher ran his hand through his bright hair. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to get to know her. Then you can decide what to do.”
    â€œIf anything,” said Victoria. “Jodi insists that I not get involved. I think I can meet with Professor Chadwick on a professor-to-professor basis.” Victoria set her mug on her envelope. “If there’s