Page 134 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

I’m glad Roisin and Fergal have made their peace with Irish. If the O’Connells want to stay here and hug it out as a family, that’s up to them. I have things to be getting on with. Just as I’m standing to leave, Dylan speaks.

“There’s a large delivery just arriving at the front gates.”

I can’t be The Exterminator today, so I’ll be expected to wait inside with the rest of the womenfolk like a good girl while the big brave O’Connell men take care of business.

I already know what it is. I can feel it in my fucking bones. Tears prick my eyes, and worry fills my gut.

They knew I’d be here.

I discreetly try to take a deep breath in and then out. I feel like I’m on the cusp of a breakdown most days. Eoin. Irish. Almost dying twice. I know Fergal meant well, but this house is meant to be a place of refuge for me, and today, it felt the opposite. It’s a reminder that I’m only a temporary guest here. That I have no real say in who comes or goes.

That I’m not actual family.

I’m lost in my thoughts. I’m not sure how long passes before I eventually notice that I’m inside alone. That everyone else has drifted outside to see what this delivery is.

Don’t go outside, Jaine. You already know what it is.

I eventually make my way out to the front of the house to take in the long pine wood coffin that’s been placed directly in front of the building.

Everyone is standing back and staring at the nine-foot-long by three-foot-high wooden box like it’s a bomb about to go off.

“Don’t open it.” It doesn’t even sound like my voice, even though the words tumbled from my mouth.

“Do you know what it is, Jaine?” I look at Dylan and nod silently.

“We need to open it. We need to know if there’s a message inside….”

I glance at Eoin. “The coffinisthe goddamn message.”

Everyone continues to stare at it because, unlike me, they don’t know what’s inside.

I can feel it. I can smell it.

I watch as Eoin uses the crowbar provided to prize off the wooden lid, the sun immediately glinting off the familiar black metal. It’s no longer pristine. It’s now all twisted and scratched. I squeeze my eyes closed. I can't look any longer.

“Oh, my God.” It’s Jessie’s voice. She now realizes what it is.

“Jaine, darlin’.” Irish whispers.

I open my eyes, and with tears running down my cheeks, I walk straight into his arms, and he wraps them tightly around me.

“What is it?” Aidan asks.

I hear the sadness in Jessie's voice when she replies. “It’s her hog. It’s been crushed.”

Jones & Associates Legal, Upper East Side, New York

I left.

As soon as I extracted myself from Irish’s arms, I wiped the tears from my eyes and then had Dec drive me straight to the office.

I couldn’t deal.

I couldn’t face being the center of attention. I couldn’t stomach their looks of pity. Most of all, I couldn’t handle having to stare any longer at my hog's crushed carcass.

I had to get out of there.

I’d already decided that I didn’t want to have to live any longer in a home that’s not my own, but today’s delivery was yet another warning.

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