Fiona on Fire | ONC 2023

19. phase change

Fiona arrived in Dublin, Ireland and boarded a bus to Greystones.

The air felt fresher here, a lick of salt wafting in from the Irish Sea. She arrived at Jack's house with her luggage by her side and stood, admiring the building. Its walls were stone with vines crawling up the sides. The garden looked magnificent, populated by a colorful array of flowers and neatly trimmed hedges. It wasn't over-the-top like her Calabasas home, which she intended to sell. It was discreetly beautiful, a hidden gem tucked into the seaside town.

She saw a curtain move. Jack waved frantically and ran to open the door.

He welcomed her inside and guided her from room to room, giving her a grand tour. The furniture was old but elegant. There were shelves running high along the walls, crammed with books old and new. A fireplace crackled and glowed in the living room. The kitchen was painted a sunny yellow, the evening light shining through the windows just right, giving everything an amber glow.

Once he'd shown her every room, he asked, watching her closely, "Do you like it?"

"I love it! It reminds me of the diner you showed me. So welcoming and warm."

Jack grinned. "I'll let you unpack, then." He hesitated in the doorway of the guest room she'd be staying in. "We didn't really discuss it, but you can stay as long as you want."

She smiled. He ducked out of the doorway and hurried down the stairs, leaving her alone.

The floors in this room were rich, dark wood, and the bed was so soft it felt like resting on a cloud. She collapsed onto it, jet-lagged from all the flying she'd done—from LA to Ohio, back to LA to pack more of her stuff, then across the Atlantic to Ireland. In minutes, she was fast asleep.

When she awoke, she found that Jack was already up—or at least out of bed. Within days, she learned that he was slow to become fully alert in the mornings, yawning a dozen times and giving sleepy, nonsensical responses to anything she said to him. Fiona found it entirely endearing, giggling to herself as she made breakfast. They alternated between taking on this duty. Jack made a more traditional Irish breakfast, while Fiona brought some American flair. Fiona even tried blood pudding but couldn't stomach it, while Jack confessed he'd developed a taste for it, taking after his father.

The serene weeks of living there turned into months. Fiona flew back to California to shoot a film here and there. These were mostly low-budget indie movies with scripts she thought deserved attention. She was grateful to have the privilege to pick and choose scripts and help to get them made. This was her dream job. She found it all immensely fulfilling and enjoyable. Her schedule wasn't packed enough to ever wear her out, and reuniting with Jack when they were both off work made their time together even sweeter.

The two of them took trips to London and Paris. They saw the popular attractions—the London Eye, Buckingham Palace, the Eiffel Tower, and the Louvre. Then they went to more eclectic places, touring the Paris Catacombs and The Vaults under London.

Fiona also met Jack's family. They were as kind and warm as him. It all made sense, knowing the environment he'd come from.

There was one problem, though: she could only stay in the country for 90 days without a visa. Fiona didn't want to leave.

"We could...and I'm just throwing this out there, so feel free to tell me to bugger off. A lot of people get married as a path to citizenship."

"Is that...something you'd want to do?"

"Marry you?"

She nodded, waiting breathlessly for a response.

"In a heartbeat." He winked.

Fiona almost swooned. But she wasn't sure she was ready for that. She still felt so young, and she didn't want marriage to feel like a means to an end.

So she applied for a study visa and enrolled at a university in Dublin. She had a strong drive now to learn things, to expand herself and her abilities. She was able to take various courses that interested her, in psychology, philosophy, literature, and history. This would mean she could stay here, maybe for years.

She felt a bit old now, surrounded by students who were a few years younger than her. Simultaneously, she felt behind. It had been years since she'd gone to school, for one. Many of her classmates had planned out their future careers and every step to reach their goals. They were surprisingly mature and eager to become working professionals. Fiona could never swallow that pill as a teenager. She'd never wanted a normal career, and somehow, that had made her feel insecure. Everyone around her had wanted her to be like these kids—to pick something reasonable and dedicate herself to it.

Well, she had picked something outlandish and stuck to it, in the end. She'd shown them.

People recognized her less here, and that was nice. It made her feel ordinary in a good way. She could walk around campus under the overcast skies and blend into the crowds.

During this time, Fiona acted less and less. College life was enchanting and took a lot of work. She was surrounded by intelligence and ambition.

One English teacher read Fiona's five-page paper about her life experiences and encouraged her to keep writing. She did, beginning with the consequential moment she'd flipped that coin and decided to change her life. It was a diary, more or less. It felt incredibly cathartic to put everything on paper, the good and the bad.

Jack always asked what she'd learned that day, and she'd solidify her understanding of concepts by teaching them to him. He was a bookworm himself. In fact, he'd already gone to university in Edinburgh to study classics.

Time kept flying by, and soon enough, Fiona graduated. She felt more proud of this than anything she'd achieved so far. Her family flew out to watch her receive her diploma.

Afterward, Jack took her to Dublin Castle, and they strolled through the gardens. He pointed to something in the distance and got her to look away. 

When she turned around again, he was on one knee.

Her hand leapt to her heart, beating hard against her ribs. "Oh, Jack—"

"I figure it's about time I give this a shot." He smiled up at her, holding out a sparkling ring. "Fiona Flores, will you do me the honor—"

"Yes!"

She yanked him upright and planted a kiss on his lips. They were both smiling too hard, so she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight.