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IRINA VICKERS
Ifeel as if I’m losingmy mind. I need to breathe and regain control of myself. I’ve become a junkie dying for her next fix.
This behavior can’t continue. My life doesn’t completely belong to me. I have responsibilities. If my obsession consumes me, where does that leave Fiona? The broken woman can’t survive in McMurdo Valley without a guide. Everything is new. She’s relying on me. I need to get my addiction under control.How did I get this far gone?
“Are you pacing?” Fiona Rogers asks from the cream chair-and-a-half located in her new family room. “I feel a breeze like you’re moving quickly back and forth.”
No longer pacing, I study the lissome blonde who changed my life. Her eyes are closed as usual, even though the room is dimly lit. Her battered brain can’t handle certain stimuli. She lives in the dark to avoid seizures and debilitating headaches.
Fiona is why I remain sane. She’s also why I’ve found myself in McMurdo Valley where my obsession has me going mad.
Nearly a dozen years ago, we wrapped our lives together. Fiona was the emotional lifejacket I needed to survive. I was her literal savior. We’ve changed in many ways over the years, yet our lives remain intertwined.
That’s why I’m in McMurdo Valley, living in this remodeled Tudor-style “guesthouse,” which is bigger than most people’s regular homes.
I can’t deny I prefer this house to the three story, Victorian monstrosity in Vermont. When I’m inside this large home with its casement windows, built-ins, dark wood floors, trim, and ceiling beams, I can pretend we’ve moved to paradise. It’s only when I step outside and face off with our “neighbors,” do I recall our precarious situation.
Todd Rogers is a name I’ve heard for a dozen years. He paid my salary as Fiona’s caregiver, yet I didn’t meet him until last September. He never visited his daughter, and the agoraphobic and fragile woman certainly couldn’t travel to see him.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when we arrived in McMurdo Valley. Everything happened so quickly. After the death of Fiona’s vile mother, I assumed we would continue living in the Victorian in the cozy town. Instead, a lawyer showed up to explain how Todd Rogers would no longer financially support Fiona from a distance. If she wanted her bills paid, she needed to move to his estate.
“We should run away,” Fiona told me in a panic that night. “We should take what money we have and live on our own.”
Her panic filled the room, while mine was like an icy breeze slowly chilling my heart. Where could we go? Fiona’s funds were controlled by others. My salary paid for my needs and then some. I could probably support us for a short while.
However, sooner or later, I’d need to work elsewhere, leaving Fiona alone for most of the day. My savings wouldn’t allow us a large home with the space for her to move around easily. I certainly couldn’t afford all her therapists—physical, occupational, and psychotherapy—and the many doctors.
“We can’t run,” I finally admitted a day later. “We can’t survive in the way you need.”
“I’ll get a job,” Fiona insisted, steadying her five-foot frame.
Her panic hit a fevered pitch when she said those silly words. Fiona’s only ever lived a bizarre life—twisted and torn apart by her evil mother and a disinterested father. She cannot live in the world. With her agoraphobia, she can’t even leave the house without heavy medication.
“If we move to your father’s estate, we can be together like we are now,” I promised Fiona when she feared leaving her longtime home. “If they try to separate us, we’ll leave.”
Fiona put on a brave face until the day we prepared to leave the only home she really remembered. The decadent Victorian held plenty of bad memories. This was where Fiona suffered her accident, falling from the third floor and crashing down to the hardwoods below. The home acted as a prison before and after she was hurt.Perhaps, a change would be best.
I knew little about what awaited us in McMurdo Valley. Online searches only offered hazy details about the town—a woman’s college, a new hospital, homey-sounding businesses like Valley Crockpot, and large swaths of undeveloped land.
Todd Rogers was also a mystery, but I assumed he was a cruel man. What other kind of man would marry Zaja? Between her mental illnesses and a terrible childhood, the woman hadn’t become a monster in a vacuum.
Yet, she was most definitely a monster. Her abhorrent treatment of Fiona proved darkness won long ago in Zaja’s heart.
Meanwhile, Todd Rogers was a wealthy man with endless dating options. For him to choose Zaja implied a lack of character on his part. Allowing her to raise their fragile child only cemented the black heart he must own.
My assumption wasn’t wrong. Todd Rogers even looks evil. Before becoming Fiona’s caretaker, I worked at a nursing home. I’m fully aware of how creepy the elderly can appear and act. However, they usually seemed fragile as their bodies and minds began to betray them. I never looked at the pervy old men or the surly old women and felt sick to my stomach.
With Todd Rogers, I nearly hurled when his cold, blue eyes found me for the first time. He hid none of the cruelty ruling his heart. Fiona was fortunately a drugged lump during their first meeting. I needed all my self-control to prevent myself from screaming at him when he began calling her foul names.
The only saving grace was how Todd valued my presence in his daughter’s life. I was tasked with keeping her from inconveniencing him. Though he wanted Fiona on his estate, he never showed any interest in bonding with her.
I’ve often wondered why Todd forced us to move to McMurdo Valley. When the lawyer gave us the ultimatum, I considered the old man might be dying. Did Todd want his family close at his end?
That is most definitelynotthe reason we’re in McMurdo Valley. Instead, I sensed interfamily battles were behind our move.
The first night in the Tudor left me frazzled. I did not like Todd Rogers or his obscenely young girlfriend named Ashley. The blonde refused to use Fiona’s name, instead inserting ableist slurs. Clearly, Todd has a type of woman he’s attracted to—blonde, young, and nasty.
Avoiding those two was easy enough during our first days on the estate. Todd’s hulking sons proved more difficult.
