A/N: Okay, I decided I couldn't just overturn London's entire world without some resolution. This will take a few chapters, so hold on and enjoy the ride!
The Esoteric World of London Tipton
By
James Doyle
Chapter Two
On a Monday afternoon, London sought out Moseby and found him in his office. The ever-businesslike African-American gentleman in his late thirties busied himself with some sort of paperwork. Even though London had never understood what necessitated all that paperwork, she nonetheless hesitated to disturb him.
"Yes, London, what is it?" asked Moseby, not looking up from his work.
London closed the door behind her. "Moseby, we need to talk about something personal. Very personal."
"Of course," said Moseby, moving his work aside. "What can I do for you?"
"I need you to take the day off on Wednesday. Don't worry about taking vacation time, I'll make sure you get paid. I have some tests scheduled, and I need you to come with me."
"These wouldn't be medical tests, would they?" asked Moseby.
London nodded.
Moseby put his arms around London. "I think I know what this is about."
London gasped. "You do?"
"Yes, I think I do. And I just want you to know that I'm here for you, and I'm not going to judge you, and I'll do my best to help you through it."
London beamed. "Thanks Moseby. I knew I could count on you."
"Just one thing," continued Moseby. "This may be a bit premature, but I would recommend adoption."
"Moseby," growled London.
"London, you're in no wise prepared to raise a child, and I think this is the best way to avoid negative publicity from the pro-life groups."
"Moseby!" shouted London. Moseby backed away with a start.
London took a few deep breaths, then continued. "I'm not pregnant."
"Are you quite sure?" whimpered Moseby.
"Last I checked, I was still a virgin," elaborated London.
"I see," said a mortified Moseby. "Please forgive me for jumping to conclusions. Might I ask what sort of medical testing will be administered?"
"Psychological testing," replied London. She carefully phrased her next statement so as not to bring Cody's name into it, lest Moseby think the whole thing was a farce. "I've been doing some research, and I think I might have Asperger's Syndrome."
"Now that you mention that," agreed Moseby. "I think you may be right. I'll explain later. In the meantime, I am at your disposal for Wednesday."
"Thanks, Moseby. I really appreciate this."
That Wednesday, both Moseby and London walked speechless toward the offices of Dr. Henry Guggenheim. The previous day, she'd asked Maddie Fitzpatrick to help her with a disguise. The dishwater blonde wig itched a bit, but she had to admit that the golf shift and cargo pants felt very comfortable.
London trembled as she approached the receptionist's window. "Dana Moseby," she said, quietly slipping an envelope containing her true identity to the receptionist.
"Yes, Miss Moseby," said the receptionist as she examined London's driver's license, then handed her a clipboard. "I just need you to fill out this paperwork and sign these consent forms. And how will you be paying today?"
"Cash," said London as she handed the receptionist a previously-counted stack of bills. She was far from ready to level with her father, and Moseby had cautioned her that having this item appear on her credit card statement might very well tip him off.
London breathed a sigh of relief as she handed in her forms. Apparently, this receptionist was accustomed to handling patients discreetly. Shortly thereafter, a nurse called her back and showed her to an uncomfortable room where an analyst sat across from her at a table.
"Good morning, London," said the young man as she closed the door. "My name's Matt, I'll be helping with your evaluation this morning."
"Do you mind if I take off this wig?" asked London.
"Feel free," answered Matt.
"I'm sure this all seems really freaky to you," commented London.
"Not at all," assured Matt. "I can't mention any names, but we've seen a number of celebrity patients. We're legally- and ethically-bound to protect your privacy. We want you to open up to us, so we can help you as best we can. Now, I think we'll start with a few verbal tests…"
After several hours of testing, the examiners released London for lunch. London requested an eatery befitting of her proletarian disguise, so Moseby took her to a nearby diner.
"I can't believe people put ketchup on their French fries," commented London.
"Ketchup isn't all that different from marinara sauce," noted Moseby, "And you seem quite found of pasta dishes."
"Yeah, I know," said London. "And I know it's all starches. But pasta doesn't feel starchy. It feels slimy. It needs something on it to be edible. Potatoes and tomatoes, on the other hand, are an unholy alliance."
"I think potatoes and frying oil are an unholy alliance," added Moseby.
The pair ate in silence for several minutes. Finally, London spoke.
"They said they want to meet with you after lunch," informed London.
"Me?" asked Moseby.
"Yeah, they want to get an outside perspective on me. Normally, they'd talk to my parents, but based on my life experiences, they decided that you know me better than anyone."
Moseby sighed as a flurry of emotions ran through his mind; the love he felt for London, the honor of being such a instrumental part of her life, the sorrow that he'd done so in lieu of her own father, and contempt for her father for all but abandoning her.
After having been thoroughly interrogated and examined, London and Moseby left the doctor's office with far more questions than answers. London cried the whole way home, unable to contain her disappointment at having to wait another week to find out who she really was.
The next week went by slowly. London tried to busy herself with her normal activities, but found that shopping held little interest for her. She even tried to busy herself with schoolwork. Once she forced herself to actually do the work, she found the tasks quite manageable.
On Friday of the following week, Cody received an e-mail from London. The recipient list also included Carey, Zack, Maddie, and Moseby. She wanted all of them to join her for dinner in her suite that evening; dress code was casual.
The Martin family knocked on London's door at the appointed time of seven o'clock. Moseby answered the door and showed them to their seats. Dinner was a fairly simple affair of roasted chicken, baked potato, and vegetable medley. Nonetheless, those assembled thoroughly enjoyed London's hospitality. London then escorted her company into the living room as room service cleared the table and set up dessert.
"You're probably wondering why you're all here," began London. "As you probably know, my family has never been much of a family. This has been a really confusing time for me, and I don't think I could've made it through without all of you. I invited you to dinner as a small token of my appreciation. I would especially like to thank Cody. Without his help, I never would've found this out about myself."
London took a few deep breaths before continuing. "All my life, I knew something was different about me. The world never made any sense to me. It was all just this big jumble of lights and sounds and smells. What made the least sense to me were people. Rich people, poor people; it didn't matter. The things they said and did just seemed so completely random.
"After awhile, I thought I didn't need to understand. I could just pay other people to do it for me. I didn't care that people only liked me for my money. I was just happy that they liked me at all. All of that changed when I met Carey, Maddie, and the twins. It was the first time in my life working people had ever made a serious attempt to be my friend.
"I want you to know that I've always appreciated your friendship, and that I've always cared about you as much as you care about me. And it tore me up inside. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't stop hurting the people I cared about. But you never gave up on me. Especially Cody. He was the one who figured out what I'm about to tell you.
"Last week, I went to see a specialist for an evaluation. This afternoon, they came back with a diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome."
London looked over at Maddie, whose expression resembled that of a deer in the headlights. "Maddie," said London. "Is there something wrong?"
"That's a form of autism, isn't it?" asked Maddie.
"Yes," said London.
Maddie leapt up and threw her arms around London. "I'm sorry for every mean thing I've ever said about you."
"Of course I forgive you," replied London. "I forgive all of you, and I ask that you'd forgive me."
After the cacophony of good will and hugs had passed, the company watched a PowerPoint presentation that Cody had prepared on Asperger's Syndrome. Tears ran down Maddie's face as she watched. She felt closure to London with every slide. The presentation ended, and the company sat down to dessert.
"So this explains why you didn't want to run the vacuum," noted Carey, referring to the time London had job-shadowed the maid.
London nodded. "The noise rattles my brain. I have to go somewhere else when the maid comes in. Even if she's at the other end of the penthouse."
The company spent the rest of the evening amusing themselves by reminiscing about London's misadventures in light of her diagnosis. London discovered that, for the first time in her life, she was able to laugh at herself. As the evening wound down, one last order of business remains.
"There is an item of paramount importance that London has asked me to articulate to you," began Moseby. "London has not decided whether she wishes to go public with this information. As you know, for a person of London's fame, or infamy as the case may be, if such information is to be released to the public, it must be handled in a strategic manner. We will trust your discretion and forgo the non-disclosure agreements."
"This goes for my dad especially," added London. "I'm going to be the one to tell him, in my own time, and in my own way."
The company nodded in agreement.
"Well," said Moseby. "It's almost eleven. I suggest we retire."
"Thank you all for coming," added London. "I hope this won't be the last time."
Maddie brought up the rear as London's guests left.
"London," said Maddie, putting a hand on London's shoulder. "I don't know what kind of friend I've been to you, but I want you to know I'm always here for you. And you don't even have to pay me."
"But what if I want to pay you?" argued London.
"I wouldn't mind a nice gift every now and again, but you don't have to bribe me."
"That really means a lot to me, Maddie."
Maddie looked at her watch. "Oh snap! I'm gonna have to run, or I'll miss the last bus."
London shook her head. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be taking the bus at this hour. I'll have my driver drop you off."
"Thanks, London," said Maddie. "For everything."
"You, too," replied London. "Good night."
"Good night."
End of Chapter Two