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Spending the nightat the guesthouse opens up a door to a new relationship with Irina. No longer do I need to sit around at the Pigsty, waiting for her to organize her schedule.
By a week from Christmas, I’ve gotten in the habit of riding over to spend a few hours or the entire night.
Fiona takes well to my presence. When she’s in her house, she seems relaxed. Irina and I don’t need to babysit her. I’m still getting used to what Fiona can handle. She seems so young and fragile at times. Other days, she acts her age.
Today, Fiona asks me to join her in the sunroom while Irina rests in bed with a headache.
Gatsby is at Fiona’s side. Early on, the dog disliked me in his space. I didn’t take his behavior personally. Gatsby’s doing a job. This is his home, and Fiona is his person to protect and guide. I was a possible threat to the quiet they enjoyed.
Once Gatsby realized I wasn’t like Jimbo or the other Rogers men, he warmed up to me. I’ll often notice his head appear at the window when I ride up to the driveway. I like knowing he’s excited to see me.
“You should get a dog once you have your own house,” Fiona suggests while she fixes something on her cello. “Irina never had a dog growing up.”
“Neither did I. But we’ll have Gatsby.”
Fiona stops fiddling with her cello and watches me through half-open eyes. “You must know I’m not moving into your house, don’t you? I can understand why Irina’s blind to how I’m never leaving this property.”
“Why not leave?”
“It’s my home.”
“It’s a guesthouse built for your mom. You didn’t even like the bitch, right?”
“No, and I’m glad she’s dead. If Zaja got help for her stomach problem, we’d still be in Vermont, and Irina never would have met you. Zaja’s death was a fantastic bit of good luck.”
“I know you’re comfortable here, but we’re building a house from scratch. We can make it any way we want. You’ll have your own space.”
“Babies leave toys everywhere,” Fiona says, setting the cello aside and focusing on me. “Irina claims she’ll keep everything tidy. That’s not the life she deserves. She’s getting a second chance at a family, but she’s focused on how to make me happy. You need to see what she can’t.”
“We can get a live-in maid.”
“Eagle, don’t be silly. Little kids should be able to leave messes.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
Fiona sighs like my mom did when I was being stubborn. “I could learn to leave the property and stay with you for a few days. Like, how you visit us. But living with you is a mistake. I need a safe place for me to move around. And your daughter needs to have the curtains open. She should be able to run around and leave messes and do other kid things. I wasn’t allowed to relax when I was little and look at how I turned out.”
“You don’t really want to stay in this place, do you?”
Fiona rests her little hands in her lap and sighs. “Irina used to promise how things would get better. I didn’t believe her. Nothing seemed to change. Turned out, I just wasn’t patient enough. So many things have changed and gotten better this year.”
“And they can keep improving.”
“Irina needs to separate from me if she’s to truly move on. I distract her. For a dozen years, I’ve been her entire life. When she gets scared of change, she clings to me. If she steps back and is patient, she’ll see how everything will be okay.”
I assume Fiona is pulling a martyr move, where she sacrifices for the one she loves. Except she doesn’t seem sad or reluctant. Her words come out with confidence as if she’s been practicing them for a while.
“Irina needs you close. Leaving you here will hurt her. I can’t sign on to that plan.”
Fiona’s face brightens with a sweet smile. “Irina wrapped me up in her love and took care of me in a way I never enjoyed growing up. I didn’t feel guilty for letting her baby me like that. Her life before me was unpleasant. She wasn’t losing out on anything. Now, though, she has a chance at more.”
Fiona looks around the house. “Ever since she came home that first night from your Pigsty, I knew I needed to prepare to live without Irina at my side. I’m ready for her to pull away.”
“She doesn’t want that,” I insist and add, “Neither do I.”
“You really are stubborn,” Fiona says and grins. “But no. If I’m around, Irina will feel torn between responsibilities. I’m sure she’s currently resting in bed, feeling guilty for leaving us alone. She’s gotten into the habit of putting herself last. For you, she pushed herself. For her, I’ve pushed myself. We’re moving forward. That’s good, right?”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I can’t hold my tongue. “Your father’s an asshole. Why wait around to see what bullshit he’ll pull next?”
