Trinli 8
“Gabriel, I understand your fascination with your penis, however, the rest of us do not need to see it! Put your pants on, right this minute!”
“I do not like pants! I want to run free!” I fight my smile as I chase the naked toddler through the first floor of our home.
“Get back here!”
“I got ‘em, Mutti!” Jakob appears from somewhere, leaps over the chair, and tackles his brother to the floor. Luckily, they land on the collection of blankets and pillows they used earlier to build their secret boys only hiding spot. Stealth is not an aptitude my children possess.
While Jakob has Gabriel pinned down, I force him into a pair of pants and wrestle his arms through his shirt sleeves. I’m huffing by the time I’m done and sit back on my butt to catch my breath.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” I shake my head and point at Gabriel. He stops, his hands on the waistband of his pants. “You remove them and you will not get any dessert for a month.” He stomps his little foot, but accepts his pant-wearing fate, dropping his hands to his sides. “Where is Riordan?”
Jakob points to the second floor. “He does not feel good. He went up to nap with Noemi.”
“Shoot.” I force myself to my feet, brush off my skirts, and head upstairs.
The scene I find is adorable, but I know it will lead to a sick baby.
Riordan lays on the bed, his body wrapped around his baby sister, both of them fast asleep.
Even from here, I can tell Riordan has a fever, his cheeks flushed, beads of sweat dotting his forehead, the rest of him quite pale.
“What in the world is that?” There is a loud, obnoxious banging on the front door.
Riordan and Noemi stir, both crying when the banging gets louder and more insistent.
“Jakob, Gabriel, come sit with your brother and sister.” I pass them on the stairs, wait for them to make it to the top, then rip open the door to find out what is going on.
I react quickly, dodging the hammer as it swings once more toward where my front door was seconds ago. One of the office staff at the mine is just as startled to see me as I am to see him.
“Ma’am.” He dips his chin in greeting.
“Sir. What is the meaning of this?” I turn slightly to see a notice of some kind on our front door attached with a nail.
I swallow hard as the big bold lettering at the top registers.
“Eviction notice?” Turning back to the man, it is clear he is uncomfortable.
Too bad. “Has Darragh been fired? I do not know what he did, but surely there is a way to discipline him without termination?” He winces at the last word and my stomach drops.
“Uh…well…no one came to see you earlier?”
“You are the first visitor I have had all day, sir.”
“Fuck.” My eyes widen at his expletive. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. Shit.” He runs a hand through his stringy hair. I think under other circumstances, I might laugh, he is clearly flustered. “Darragh Byrne died this morning in the mine.”
“Oh.” Honestly, I think I am more shocked the man in front of me said “fuck”. Darragh is dead. He is not coming back. Alright. “I understand.”
“Well, I do not believe you rightly do, ma’am. As you know your housing is contingent upon your husband’s employment. His employment with Magnus Mining has been…terminated.”
“And with it, our housing.” Now, I understand. Dread explodes in my chest and trickles into each of my extremities until I’m cold and numb.
“You have 5 days to vacate.” I suck in a sharp breath. 5 days? That is not nearly enough time to secure other housing arrangements or travel… “Or you could marry another employee and move in with them or retain your housing and have them move in with you.”
“My husband’s body isn’t even cold or buried yet and you expect me to pick a new groom from the company payroll or lose my home?”
“Not exactly.” A small surge of hope flickers. “His body is very much cold, and I’d say it is already buried…what is left of him, anyway.”
“Well, thank the heavens for small mercies, sir. I am relieved I will not need to come up with the funds to bury him properly!” My sarcasm is lost on this man, and I have no more time or energy to spare him.
I retreat a step back and slam the door in his face, while it is still mine to do so.
Shoot. I open it back up and find he has not moved an inch.
“Was anyone else hurt or killed in the collapse?”
“Just Padraig Fitzgerald.” My heart drops to my stomach and I stagger back as blackness swims at the edge of my vision. “Ma’am?”
“Is he…is he dead?”
“Your husband? Yes, I just told you…perhaps you are in shock or hysterics. I should fetch the physician—” I grab the lapels of his work jacket and tug him roughly until his face is inches from mine.
“Is. Paddy. Dead?”
He shakes his head. “No. Just got scraped up is all.” Shoving him away, I slam the door once more and rush upstairs to my babies.
“Mutti?”
“Come on, little ones, we are going to go visit Margaret. I need to help Paddy with something; I will be back as soon as I can.” Riordan coughs, his eyes blinking open and revealing the haze of fever in their depths. I cannot leave him like this.
But Paddy…
“Jakob, run to the kitchen and grab the blue bottle for coughs and a teaspoon.” He nods, his small shoulders squared and ready for battle.
My boy. “Gabriel, go fetch Margaret.” I pat his little tushy and send him on his own mission.
I pick up Noemi and place her at my breast while I pace back and forth.
Jakob rushes back up the stairs holding the blue bottle and a teaspoon high in the air. “I got it!” I reach to take it from him, but he holds it to the side. “I got it. Just tell me how many teaspoons. I take care of Riordan. I am his big brother.”
“Yes, you are. Thank you for being such a good big brother.”
Jakob nods, but focuses on pouring the tincture on the spoon, careful not to spill a drop, his pink tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. My heart feels like it swells to twice its size as I watch him tend to his brother.
“Trinli?”
“Up here, Margaret!” She crests the top of the stairs moments later. Her eyes welled with tears.
“Trinli, I heard what happened, I am so sorry.”
“Yup. Sad. Can you watch the kids here? Riordan has a fever and cough, and I must go out for a bit.”
“You want to grieve alone, I understand. A loss like this—”
“Mutti? What did you lose?”
Margaret kneels in front of Jakob and grabs his hands. “Your da died this morning.”
Jakob and Gabriel cry out. Jakob releases Margaret’s hands and hugs Gabriel tight. Riordan stirs from his sleep, his bottom lip quivering. “Da is dead?”
Margaret tries to console them, but I shake my head and put a hand on her shoulder.
In a solemn tone, I clarify, “Darragh died in the mine this morning. Paddy was injured but he will be alright after he has rested. I am going to see him now.” Jakob and Gabriel rush me, wrapping their arms around my legs.
“Give Da this hug, Mutti, so he knows we want him to get better.” I blink away the tears that threaten my eyes and pat their heads. Margaret stands, her expression one of absolute bewilderment.
“They call Paddy ‘da’?”
“He is our Da!” Riordan states emphatically, breaking into a coughing fit when he’s done.
“He plays with us and showed us how to water the weeds with our trouser snakes and makes Mutti smile.” Jakob’s little shoulders tremble with emotion.
Margaret glances at my babies, then at me. Her smile grows slowly. “Then let us bury the reprobate and—”
“There is no body to bury…it is under too much rubble from the collapse.”
“Even better!” Margaret laughs. “I will stay here with the little ones; you go check on Paddy.”
“Thank you, my friend.” I hug her briefly and kiss her cheek.
I feel her grin against the side of my face before she whispers, “You can thank me by letting me know all about his trouser snake…once you are well acquainted.”