9. Olivia
9
OLIVIA
I set Catie up with an iPad so that she could watch an educational cartoon, then dutifully trudged up to Declan’s office. My stomach was twisting in knots, and my breath felt shallow.
This was it. I was going to get fired. And Sunny Days Childcare had made it very clear if this job didn’t work out, I wasn’t going to get another chance with them.
Two months. I’d just had to get through two lousy months with Declan Byrne—but I hadn’t been able to do it.
I thought of Declan on the plane, snidely suggesting that if people kept firing me it was probably my fault. I hadn’t wanted to consider it, but what if he was right? Was I being too stubborn? Somewhere along the way, had I become a bad nanny?
But no, I refused to believe that. Everything I’d done had been in Catie’s best interests. She needed to understand what was happening in her life, instead of simply being fed lies. After all, wouldn’t it be worse if she found out the truth by herself? Maybe if I just explained to Declan…
I held onto that hope until I opened the door and saw his stormy face. He stood with his back to the window, so that I had to look into the painfully bright sky to try to meet his eyes.
When Declan spoke, his voice was deadly quiet. “I told you I wanted Catie shielded from the ugliness of her mother’s situation at all costs. I told you that if you ripped that shield away from Catie, just so you could feel better about not lying, I would fire you.”
I crossed my arms. “That’s not what happened.”
“Oh? Did someone else tell her?” His voice dripped sarcasm. Underneath the sarcasm, though, was simmering anger. I could feel it coming from Declan in waves, and I kept waiting for one of those waves to crash against me.
I didn’t say anything.
“Enlighten me, Olivia,” Declan taunted. I felt like I was being dared to stick my head into the lion’s mouth.
He probably meant to intimidate me.
Instead, it just made me angrier.
Maybe he was going to fire me. But that didn’t mean he could stop me from fighting for Catie. And honestly, if I was going anyway, I might as well be honest. At this point, I had nothing left to lose.
“Catie asked me who was going to help her mom with her hangovers,” I said.
Declan looked like he’d been punched. For a split second, his anger was replaced by shock. “She doesn’t…she doesn’t know…”
“She does ,” I insisted. “Catie might not have words for it, but she knows something is wrong with her mom. Something that leaves her with headaches and an upset stomach at the start of nearly every day. Something that has a six-year-old thinking she needs to be there to get her crackers and water. And your stupid lie about work was giving her all sorts of brand-new worries. She was having nightmares , Declan, worried that her mom was going to mess up her big, important job because she didn’t have Catie there to help her feel better every morning.”
Declan’s face hardened. “You still had no bloody right to make that decision on your own. You should have come to me.”
“You don’t listen!” Something in me snapped. I felt positively wild, furious at Declan—at all the parents and guardians I’d dealt with—who never actually stopped to notice what impact their bad choices had on their children. “None of you listen to me, and your kids pay the price.”
We glared at each other. The air crackled with tension.
The worst of it was, I’d started to think Declan wasn’t like the others. Like maybe, just maybe, he cared more about Catie’s happiness and well-being than his own pride.
Say you understand , I thought. Say you’ll listen .
He didn’t.
“I’m through arguing about this. Get out.” He strode to his desk. “The agency found me a replacement this morning. I have no doubt she’ll be a more accommodating fit than you.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. And then reality sank in.
Declan was firing me. He wasn’t even giving me the curtesy of looking at me while he did it. The worst of it wasn’t the actual firing, though. It was the anger in Declan’s eyes, the contempt in his voice.
The man hated me.
Well, it was mutual. I turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind me.
My hands were shaking.
I knew it shouldn’t get to me. God knows I’d been terminated often enough. But there was something about this time that felt different. More personal than it ever had before.
I blinked, realizing I was on the verge of crying. The longer I stayed, the more I risked Declan or Catie seeing me breaking down. I didn’t want that for Catie, because I liked her. And I didn’t want that for Declan, because right now, I hated him and his stupid, beautiful face. He didn’t deserve to see how much he’d upset me, how hurt I was at his callousness.
And why ? Why did he affect me this much?
I hated how stubborn he was, how set in his ways he could be, and yet… I couldn’t help but hope there was something else hiding underneath the surface. Some kind of genuine charm, or selflessness, or…
Or maybe you’re a fool, Olivia , I thought. A fool with rose-colored glasses.
Normally, I’d wait for my employer to buy my ticket home, but I didn’t want to wait. I had enough miles to get home right away without having to spend a fortune. I kept saving them for vacations I never took.
I stormed into my room and started packing. It didn’t take long. I was almost done when I heard the doorbell blasting the catchily optimistic “Take a Chance on Me.”
My mom had loved that song.
My throat tightened. I shoved the thought aside, zipped my suitcase, and went to open the door.
Catie beat me to it.
“Grandma!” she cried when she opened the door and saw Marie. “Uncle Declan and Miss Olivia are fighting, so I get to watch a video on Miss Olivia’s tablet.”
“Oh,” Marie said, and then she saw the suitcase I was holding. “Oh.”
I winced.
Marie handed Catie a loaf of soda-bread covered in clear plastic wrap. “Can you be a good girl and take this to the kitchen for me?”
Catie nodded and scampered off.
Marie shut the door and looked at me apologetically. “I know Declan can be harsh, but you’re so good for Catie. I’m sure once you get to know him better?—”
“This isn’t my choice,” I interrupted, because it hurt to listen to her optimism. I wanted this to be something time could fix, but it just wasn’t. Declan had fired me, and he wanted me out of his and his niece’s lives. The sooner I accepted that, the better. I collected my tablet from where Catie had abandoned it and tucked it into my shoulder bag. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
Marie sighed, but she didn’t protest. “Are you off to the bus stop, then? It’ll take you into Galway. From there, you can catch one to the Dublin airport.”
I nodded, then hesitated. “I was going to wait until Declan got off work for the day. But if you could watch Catie, then I’ll be free to go right away. I’d rather…” I swallowed past the tightness in my throat. “I’d rather not linger.”
Marie looked sad, but she nodded reluctantly. “Of course.”
“Thanks.”
Now comes the hard part , I thought.
I went to the kitchen, where Catie had industriously pulled a chair over to the cupboard, so she could climb up and pull down some plates for the soda bread.
“Hey, hon,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice bright. “We’re going to change things up a bit. I have to go home. But your Grandma’s going to watch you for the rest of this afternoon, and after that, your uncle Declan is already finding an awesome woman to hang out with you during the day, like I do.”
Catie turned to look at me, wearing the little worried frown between her eyebrows that meant she was trying to figure something out. “When will you come back?”
My heart twisted. “I’m sorry, honey. I don’t think I am.”
Catie’s face grew increasingly upset. “But…but you made a friend at the bookshop.”
I smiled, crouching down. “I did. And I’m glad I got to be her friend for a little while, even if I need to go now. Just like I’m glad I got to be your friend, too.”
Catie’s lower lip trembled. “I don’t want you to go,” she said.
“Oh, honey.” I took hold of her hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay to feel sad when people have to leave. I’m sad, too. But I am also so, so happy I got to spend this time with you.” I spread my arms. “Can I have a hug goodbye?”
She clambered off the chair and gave me a hug.
I held her close and let her sweet scents of grass, dirt, and little girl sweat wash over me.
I love my job , I told myself as I blinked back tears. I love my job, I love my job, I love my job…
But as I pulled away, I forced a smile for Catie’s sake, and walked out the door with my suitcase, I couldn’t lie to myself.
Sometimes I hated my job too. Especially walking away from kids who needed me.
I tried not to think about Declan or Catie as I walked the fifteen minutes to the bus stop, dragging my suitcase behind me. The day was warm enough I found myself working up a sweat. When I got to the bus stop, I could feel my T-shirt sticking to my back.
I scooped my hair into a messy bun to get it off my neck and checked the bus schedule on my phone.
The next bus didn’t come for an hour and a half.
Shit , I thought. And then, since no one was around, I let myself say it out loud for good measure. “Shit.”
Cursing was something I rarely did, since there was almost always a child around who might overhear and repeat it later. But I didn’t have to worry about that anymore since, thanks to Declan, my nannying career was in the toilet. “Damn. Hell. Shit.” I kicked the side of the bus stop, which made my eyes sting. “THIS SUCKS,” I hollered to the sky.
An old woman in the house across the street peeked out from behind her curtains with a scandalized look.
I covered my mouth, regretting my outburst. I gave a cringy, apologetic wave. She must have decided not to worry about it, because she let the curtains drop and retreated back into her house.
I sank down onto the bus stop bench, feeling suddenly exhausted. I tried so hard with this job. And now here I was, where I always was.
Alone.
Fighting off the feeling, I sent an impulsive message to @DBCoder. You don’t live in Dublin by any chance, do you?
As soon as I sent it, I regretted it. I had a hard policy against meeting anyone I met through my blog in real life. The one time it had happened, it hadn’t been my choice, and it had gone badly enough I’d swore never to repeat the experience. No matter how lonely I might feel right now.
Forget I said that. It’s just a crappy day.
Crappy was an understatement.
Any chance you can talk right now? I really need to get out of my own head. I’ll even let you nerd out about that famous conman you like, the one who stole the airplane.
Nothing.
I stared at my phone for a while, before I admitted to myself @DBCoder probably wasn’t on Snug right now. Or if he was, he was tied up with something that was keeping him from responding.
There were other people I could message. Friends back home. The mom from the first family I’d ever nannied for, who loved me like a daughter and still reached out every few months to make sure I was doing okay.
But if I called someone I knew in real life, I’d have to explain the mess my own life had become. They’d want to offer suggestions, advice. With @DBCoder I could just vent and know that I’d get comfort and commiseration in return. I wanted to talk with him, or no one at all.
So I popped in my headphones, blasted my Zen playlist, and repeated the mantras I’d been using since college.
Life is change.
It’s okay to let go. It means you can live in the moment and increase the next good thing.
Unfortunately right now, it was hard to believe anything good was coming my way.