“They don’t think I have enough ties to Ireland,” he said. “If they so much as suspect you’re trying to get around the legal immigration process, you’re fucked.”
“Oh,” I said.
Ollie sighed. “They’re not wrong. I don’t have any ties back home. Hadn’t been there in four years. Don’t have any property, a car, not even an apartment. Don’t have a single piece of mail from there. I don’t talk to anyone back home either...” He buried his face in his hands and groaned. “I’m so fecking stupid.”
It frightened me to see him so distressed. “I’m sure things will work themselves out,” I said. “You’ve got time. Maybe Captain Xav can ask the owners to sponsor you.”
Ollie shook his head. “Cap asked, but he told me this morning that the Greens said no.”
Earlier Captain Xav had found me and Ollie sitting together at the bow of the boat, our legs swinging off the side as we rested our arms on the railing and looked out at the sea. He asked how I felt about becoming chief stewardess of theSerendipity, seeing as neither of the other stewardesses could stay on for the low season.Thrilled at the opportunity, I’d accepted right away. I’d been so excited that I hadn’tthought anything of it when Captain Xav asked to speak with Ollie privately.
“Shit,” I said. “But I’m sure you’ll find someone who will. You’re certainly not the worst chef in the world.”
Ollie rolled his eyes. “I’ve applied to... geez, everything,” he said. “But no one will even look at me because of the sponsorship thing.”
“And you don’t want to go back to Ireland.”
“I can’t,” he said. He chewed on his lip, silent for a moment as he stared across the bilge. I had no idea what to do, but I needed to do something. So I took his hand in mine and squeezed.
Ollie seemed to snap out of whatever thought he’d gotten lost in. He glanced at me, and then dropped his gaze to our laced fingers and squeezed my hand back. “You know how you told me you weren’t sure you could cut off your parents, even with all they’d done?”
“Yeah,” I said, unsure what my family drama had to do with this.
“Well, I really did cut my family off.” He paused, but I could tell he had more to say. I rested my chin on his shoulder, and finally he sighed and continued. “My da’s not a great guy. He’d... well, he’d knock me around and stuff. Ma. Jack too.”
“Jack...” Ollie had mentioned his parents now and then, vague offhand comments, but I’d never heard the name Jack before.
“My brother,” Ollie said. “He’s ten years younger than me. I haven’t spoken to him since I left for culinary school, but I... When I went to Ireland, I saw him. Couldn’t resist driving down to Cobh from Dublin. I didn’t know what I’d do if I did see them, but Jack was the only one I saw, anyway. He was riding his bike down our street and... Jesus, he’s tall now. He looked happy too. At least right then. People hide all sorts of stuff, you know. It felt like watching someone else’s life or some TV show I’d seen before but didn’t remember the details of. Anyway, he seemed okay, and I didn’t want to ruin it, so I just... got in the car anddrove right back to Dublin. Drove six hours round-trip just to spend thirty minutes in Cobh, because I’m a fecking coward.”
“You’re not, Ollie.”
He shook his head. “I am. When I got into culinary school, I thought,This is it. Ma and Jack can come with me and we can get the fuck out of here. I didn’t know how I’d manage them staying. I even got them their visitors’ visas. Fecking expensive, they were, saved every penny I made working at the pub. I told myself it’d be easier to figure out a long-term solution once we were gone. I was tired of us all walking on eggshells all the time, you know. Ma even agreed to come with me. We told Da that she and Jack were just coming to help me settle in. But when I woke up the morning we were supposed to leave, Ma and Jack weren’t home. She’d left a note saying she’d meet me at the airport, something about an errand, but”—he shook his head—“I knew something wasn’t right.”
I squeezed his hand tighter. “And then what happened?”
“She never showed. When I finally got ahold of her, she told me she was sorry. Just said she loved me and to be good. All those years I’d thought she never left because she didn’t have the opportunity. It never crossed my mind that she didn’t leave because she didn’t want to. I know it’s more complicated than that, of course, but I was angry... I’m still angry. Anyway, I got on the plane, left, and never looked back. You’re a better person than me, Nina. I cut them all off. Even Jack. Once I was gone, I just... didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to leave them, especially not Jack, but I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t take him with me. Maybe I should’ve stayed, been nearby, kept watch over them, but...”
“You did what you had to do.”
“Wish I could believe that. Da and me always butted heads the most. Could never keep my mouth shut, you know. He always acted like I was the problem, like it was my fault he would get so angry. Asfecked-up as it sounds, I hope he’s right. I wouldn’t feel so guilty if I knew my leaving had fixed everything. Who knows? Maybe it did. Maybe Jack really is happy. Maybe they’re all happy now.”
I didn’t believe that, but I didn’t know what to say. Both options seemed miserable: to believe you were the cause of your family’s misery and had solved their problems by leaving or to carry the guilt of leaving them, knowing it had fixed nothing.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. I kept my hand in his and my chin on his shoulder. I couldn’t move away. I didn’t want to.
Ollie rested his head against mine. “Don’t be sorry for me.”
The situation was awful, but I couldn’t help but admire Ollie for being able to leave and start a new life. “You’re not going back,” I said. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”
He lifted his head with a sigh. “You can’t promise that.”
“You forget who you’re talking to.”
“Trust me, when I’m talking to you, I never forget.”
My hand ached from how tightly I was holding on to him. I flexed my fingers, loosening our grip on each other. Ollie seemed to notice it too and gently pulled his hand from mine to muss up his hair.
“Well,” I said, smoothing my polo when I got to my feet. “Just in case youdoforget, I’m Nina Lejeune, failed professional gymnast and future chief stew of theSerendipity.Nothing is impossible for me, so I hereby declare, you are not allowed to return to Ireland.”
