O'Reilly's Apartment

[Irish]

Liam O'Reilly (Irish) lives here part-time with his relatives.

[Poet]

She had talked to Jack, she had sat in her room all night she had thought over her feelings, her thoughts, her past experiences with Irish and her experiences with Jack. She walked up the stairs toward his apartment, she was going to do it. She got to the door and stood for a moment she had drained her twenty four hours to the last thirty minutes. She hesitantly brought her fist to the door and knocked. She looked down as her hair fell into her face, she wondered if he would be ok, she wondered if he would accept it. She shoved her hands into her pockets and looked up at the door as she bit her lower lip. "it all comes down to this..."she whispered to herself.

[Irish]

Little Niamh answered the door. She rubbed her tired eyes and blinked up at Poet. "You're not Mama." She said, pouting. "Mama was supposed to bring home potatoes for dinner with Liam's money. Liam made a lot of money this week. Five dollars." She said proudly.

"Oy! Get away from the door lass!" An old, wheezy and very Irish voice barked. Niamh scrambled away, leaving an aging man with a cane in her place. He pointed his cane at her. "What do ye want, lass? If ye are lookin' fer Sophie or Aoife, they ain't here." He grumbled. "Noisy boyo." He added under his breath. A cute red-head, Moira, poked her head around her grandfather.

"No, Grandda, she's Liam's goil. Ain't that right?" She asked Poet uncertainly.

"Liam doesn't usally go for the non-Irish girls..." A handsome boy said, passing.

"Shut yer trap, Sean." The old man growled, poking him in the shin with his cane. Sean rolled his eyes and pulled Moira and Niamh away with him into a far corner of the room. Grandda Liam fixed his rhumy eyes on her. "Sean's right, Liam goes fer the full-blooded Irish lasses. Like Maggie in Jersey."

"I saw him with the Hungarian girl... what's her name, Moira?" Sean said loudly.

"Hope. Isn't it pretty? He walked her home the other day and asked her to come and meet Grandda. Grandda likes Hope, don't you?" Moira replied innocently.

"She's a pretty one, sweet too." He said over his shoulder absently. "But ye, ye are not an Irish las, nor a Hungarian. Hungarians are one thing, Italians are anudder." He stuck his chin out at her and poked her shin with his cane impatiently. "Now, what do ye want with me family?" He asked for the final time. All four pairs of eyes in the apartment-Grandda Liam, Cousin Sean, Little Niamh, and Pretty Moira-were on Poet.

[Poet]

Overwhelmed by so many people Poet stepped back half a step and eyed them all for a moment. She tilted her head to the side and looked Irish's grandfather in the eyes as best she could. She bit her lip as they all spoke and when she heard the name of a girl and how Irish had brought her here, her heart sank. She managed to get her words out though,"I was told that I could find Irish hereh actually....it's rather important,"she managed. Part of her wanted to hightail it out of the tenements, he had taken this whole break thing rather seriously and his family seemed to already like the girl he had brought home, how was she supposed to compete with that, she wasn't Hungarian or Irish, well at least not full, and she didn't have much to offer except her love and devotion to him. She had come to tell him that her decision was for him, her full hearted choice had walked away from Jack to be with him, but with this overwhelment, what if he didn't want her back any more.

[Irish]

Grandda huffed. He chewed on something nonexistent. "Who in the bloody hell is Irish?" He almost shouted. Sean coughed suddenly.

"Liam's known as Irish, Grandda."

"Didn't Oi tell ye to shut it?" He shouted, rounding on Sean, he cowered. "Liam! Someone's here for ye!" He shouted even louder, his cheeks wavering. Niamh looked up fearfully at Sean.

"Grandda's not gonna beat us again, ey?" She asked softly. Sean shook hsi head.

"Liam won't allow it." He whispered back.

"Make it quick." Grandda said grumpily to someone in the bowels of the apartment. Irish appeared, patting his grandfather on the back hurriedly.

"Grandda, calm down, ey?" He asked, his green eyes twinkling. Niamh, Grandda, and Sean crossed the room and sat at the table-Moira began to serve lunch, she didn't meet her grandfather's eyes. "Hey, Poet. How are you?" He asked, his eyes soft and kind. He had missed her. "Sorry about what me family said, they can be a little overwhelmin', ey?" He chuckled softly and skillfully avoided his grandfather's cane which moved with surprising speed toward his shin. "Come on into the hall."

"Liam's got himself a lot of goils. What about the one that stopped by the other day to see him?" Sean asked.

"Ten year olds with crushes don't count," Moira replied heatedly. Sean rolled his eyes again and for their talking, they both recieved a whack with the cane.

"No talkin' at yer dinner." Grandda barked. "Liam, make it quick. Aoife and Sophie will be back soon with the potatoes. Yer mama don't wanna see ye chattin' up a lass in the hall."

"Yes, Grandda." Irish said quietly before closing the door gently. He sighed. "What's up? Oi missed you," He smiled brightly, he had missed her more then he realized. "So, did you talk to Jack?" He asked, suddenly nervous. A little scuffle and then whack and then groan was heard. Irish looked troubled. "Poor Sean, he keeps gettin' himself and Moira in trouble." He sighed, looking back at her.

[Poet]

Poet looked at Irish, she had missed him more within the past twenty fourr hours than she had when he wouldn't see her for days. She knew he must be worried beyond belief so she figured she'd tell him everything as quickly as she could. She looked into his eyes and smiled halfheartedly,"yeah I talked ta Jack, he had a few things ta say and well when it comes down to it, I need someone like you Irish, I need you, when it comes down to the end of the day I wanna know that there's someone missing meh, that there's someone who loves me and only me, that if I get myself inta trouble you'll be there fer me......I don't need adventure or to go to far off places, I need to know that I have you and only you and that I'll neva hafta worry about you leaving me fer someone prettier, stronger, sweeter, because yer the only one I know of who truly loves me exactly how I am....that's why I chose you, that's why I love you with all my heart,"she said as she bit her lower lip. She wanted to hug him, hold him, anything but she restrained herself to wait for what he had to say.

[Irish]

Irish held up a hand and was silent as some neighbor kids ran by. "Hiya, Liam!" They called.

"Hi, Cian, Seamus." He muttered, he listened until they shut the door to their apartment. He sighed. "Poet...Oi'm glad to hear all that, but... You do understand what Oi'm, looking for right? Oi need someone who's happy living in a tiny apartment with lots of kids. Someone who doesn't mind that their days are all the same, that they'll be watchin' kids day and night. You understand that right? Oi need a wife, not a fling." He shook his head. "If yer serious, yer gonna have to prove it to me. Yer gonna have to marry me." He shuffled his feet.

"Oi mean, Oi know we're young but yer seventeen and Oi turn eighteen in a bit..." He coughed conciously. "You understand right? Oi have to know that what you say is true. Oi understand yer needs, but what about mine? Oi want to be appreciated and Oi don't want to be a second thought. Oi have to have someone by me side constantly. Oi'm gonna work until Oi die, it's the curse of the Irish, and Oi can't keep havin' to switchin' lasses. Oi'm either going with one girl for the rest of me life, or none at all." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Oi know Oi should do it probably, but me knee's killin' me... And Oi know how you are with commitment." He added, flicking his eyes to her. Irish flicked his eyes to the stairs. "Hey, Mama." He said quietly, and sure enough, Aoife O'Reilly was climbing the stairs heavily, her younger sister Sophie at her elbow.

"Hello, Liam. How are ye this fine day? Did ye know it's rainin'?" She asked, grinning brightly. Sophie shook her head.

"It ain't rainin' Ma." Irish sighed.

"It isn't? Then how did I get wet?" She asked, confused. Iriah replied even quieter, 'You ain't wet, Mama.' But Aoife kept smiling, for she hadn't heard her son. "Is that the Hungarian Da is goin' on about? Oi think he loves that Hungarian girl." She said matter-of-factly. "Oif we was in the Old Country, Da would marry the Hungarian."

"Yes, dear." Sophie murmured, guiding her sister into the apartment. Irish laid a hand on her arm. 'Where's the food?' he asked quietly. 'She took all me wages to buy food,' Sophie sighed. "Yer ma is confused, she... well, she spent it all on a new dress." Irish's face tightened. 'What are we gonna eat?' He whispered. Sophie shook her head and shrugged. She shut the door as Irish turned back to Poet.

"Sorry, me ma's gotten worse. She keeps thinkin' I'm Da... again..." He said heatedly.

[Poet]

She heard his words, marriage, it processed in a slow manner, she was lucky that his mother and aunt walked through and bought her more time to process it all. When he turned back to her, she admitted in her mind that she was quite flattered by it all, she ignored the statements of the Hungarian girl, she ignored the comments in all. She let it process as he looked at her and she didn't feel any sign of question, any form of regrets any sign of wanting to push him away. She bit her lower lip for a moment as she let it all sink in fully making sure it all settled in the right way. "Irish...I want to marry you, I want your kids, I want your life to be mine as well,"she said finally, she looked straight into his green eyes, she knew that she meant it all, full heartedly she wanted to be his forever, to have his children whether they conceived now or years from now she no longer cared, all she cared about was being with him being his baring his children caring for their children. She nodded reassuring him of her words,"I'm ready to committ to you and only you because I know now, I see now and every time I see another guy out there I don't think twice about anything my mind automatically turrns to you, I can't look into another man's eyes and see anything worth having because you've taken my heart Irish, you've made me complete.....you are everything I want and need, and I mean it I want to be your wife..."she told him, her words trailed off after that and she fell silent hoping that he saw it was all true.

[Irish]

Irish smiled slightly, then his mouth curved up into inexpressionable joy. Instead, he just scooped her up into his arms and kissed her passionately. When he set her down again, he grinned and said, "Oh, Oi'm happy. Happier then any man deserves to be." He laughed and hugged her to his chest. "Now, this means you must meet me family. Properly, not just standin' in the hall." He said, reaching for the door handle. "Or should we settled things first? Set a date, Oi mean?" He asked uncertainly, glancing back at her-his fiancee. He swelled with pride at the word. She was his, now and for forever. No one elses. He couldn't help but think to himself, 'Take that, Jack'.

[Poet]

She smiled into his kiss, held him when he held her and as he took her hand she blushed for the first time ever. She looked down in an attempt to hide it but it was failing. "We can set a date later tonight, I'd love to properly meet yer family Irish....yer grandda ain't gonna be upset that yer not with that Hope goil is he?"she asked her voice hinting a small sign of sadness that his family may not accept her, but in the end she knew it was Irish's decision not his family's. She looked up into his eyes, her cheeks still slightly pink from blushing,"I don't wanna leave yer side right now, so we may as well go in there, don't wanna keep yer ma waitin' do ya?"she asked him.

[Irish]

Irish laughed. "As long as you don't 'talk to yer dinner' Grandda will be fine with you. Oi'm sure of it. Besides, Hope's nice and all, but she ain't you, Poet." He grinned. He nodded and said, "Yes, we can set a date later, but you don't want to make me wait to long, ey?" He was teasing slightly. He frowned and then glanced at the door. "Me ma won't even notice Oi'm gone. It's rare Oi'm even home at this time of day." He said with a hint of sadness. He suddenly looked very old.

The door opened, Moira stood their, her curly red hair bouncing happily. "Liam, we saved you some food." She leaned in to him and said, "'tisn't much but your friend can come and eat, too." She said, winking. "Quick, before Sean eats it all."

"Moira, this Kassy, better known as Poet. She's me fiancee." He said, swelling with pride. Moira looked shocked then smiled widely.

"Brilliant!" She exclaimed. She pulled Poet into the apartment, leaving Irish to scramble in after them. The apartment consisted of two rooms. The first room-in which they stood now-contained the kitchen, dining room, sitting room, and two rather large beds that took up the entire east wall. The second room contained three more beds, two small and one large. A forgotten crib sat in the far corner of the first room. The table sat in the very middle of the first room and everything was arranged around it. At the table sat Aoife, Sophie, her husband Daniel, Sean, Moira, Niamh, and lastly, Grandda. His cane sat against his leg, within easy reach.

Sean produced two more chairs and set one by him and the other by Grandda-the only two places left. Irish gestured to the table. "Anywhere you want. Everyone, this is Poet. Oi... Oi have somethin' to tell you. Oi'm engaged to Poet, we're goin' to be married." Irish said, again swelling with pride. His mother began to wail.

"You're gonna leave me, just like your wretched father!" She cried. Sophie and Daniel clapped, Niamh, Moira, and Sean cheered.

Grandda's face collapsed. "An Italian?" He said, seeming to struggle to breath, then he looked sour and said, "Oi suppose it's better then an English woman. If ye married and English woman Oi would have to kill ye." He then shook Irish's hand. "Oi suppose she'll do."

"Thanks, Grandda."

[Poet]

She was pulled into the apartment by a little girl and she smiled as Irish followed. When Irish told her to sit anywhere, she looked at him,"Umm Anywhere? I'm not much of the sittin' type unless ya want to lend yer lap to me,"she commented jokingly,"if not I'll stand that's fine, I'm a stander,"she said winking at him. She looked around at his family and when his grandda spoke she was happy that he didn't completely shun her. She took Irish's hand and wondered if he was going to stay here the whole night or go back to the Lodging house to his quiet little Co-leader room of his, part of her hoped it was the second choice and she would gladly follow him if he didn't have a problem with it. Poet looked down for a moment before meeting all the staring eyes again,"it's nice meeting all of you,"she said.(sorry short)

[Irish]

Sophie looked shocked at this comment. "Liam! What's the meanin' of this? Lendin' yer lap to lasses..." She shook her head. Daniel chuckled lightly.

"She don't mean nothin' by it, Aunt Sophie, right, Poet?" He asked pointedly, gently removing his hand from hers. Grandda had been staring at it.

"Nonsense, if the lass stands, we men will have to stand." Daniel said, he climbed to his feet after Grandda. Daniel grabbed his son by the back of the neck and hauled him to his feet. Sean looked annoyed.

"Oit ain't me fault if the goil wants to kill her feet. Oi'm tryin' to eat and Oi have the rest of me life to stand, Oi'm going to sit." But after receiving a whack from his Grandda for being disrespectful to his father, Sean remained standing. He leaned over to Liam, around Niamh. "Why do ye have to take the best lookin' lasses in New York? Yer gonna stick me with the uglies." Sean said grumpily. "Oi have to compete you and Indian Akecheta, that's impossible. It's fine for ye because ye have nice eyes and blonde hair. Oi have mixed eyes and mixed hair. Oi look German, not Irish." Sean grumbled. "All day Oi hear, 'why does the German boy have a name like Sean? Where his parents dropped on their heads?'" Sean shook his head and stuffed another piece of bread with sugar on it into his mouth.

"Go aisy with the sugar, Oi ain't a millionaire," Grandda said, whacking the table with his cane. Niamh looked outraged, as did Sean.

"It ain't even yer money, it's Liam's." Sean replied. Daniel sighed and pulled Niamh, Moira, and Sophie into the second room. Grandda stood, suddenly ten years younger, and hauled Sean by the ear into the hall. Irish sighed and sat, patting the seat next to him.

"Ignore the yells, ey?" He asked over Sean's yelps from the hall as the cane whistled through the air. "Oi's one thing to disrespect yer father, but ye never disrespect Grandda, ey?" He asked her. Irish shook his head and pulled the one lonely potatoe to him. He cut it, giving the larger piece to Poet. "Eat up, sorry there's no butter." Irish shrugged, slightly embarrassed that he didn't have enough money to buy extras like butter. Was he insane in thinking he could care for Poet on top of the O'Reillys?

[Poet]

Poet watched silently at the scene and as Irish let go of her hand she put it in her pocket having the habit of fidgetting with her hands if she didn't. She sat down beside him when he gestured and when he offered her the potatoe she shook her head,"no thanks....I ain't really hungry hun, I'm more tired then anything,"she said softly as she looked at him and tilted her head slightly. She wanted to ask if he was going back to the lodging house tonight but she didn't know if that would be rude to ask. She looked down slightly and pulled her hand from her pocket folding her hands in her lap gently. She looked around the table and felt slightly out of place.

[Irish]

"Uh.. Poet. There's somethin' Oi gotta tell ye. Now, ye remember how we agreed we was both free for twenty-four hours? Well, now... Hope wasn't the only girl-actually Hope's just me friend. But... There was this lass, Oi had a rough day at work and Oi got a little drunk and..." He didn't continue, he looked down. "Oi'm sorry Poet. Oi regret it, Oi do." He mumbled into his potatoe. "Please eat, it-it's good for ye." He said weakly-not looking at her. He was ashamed yes, he was ashamed now. But at the time... That's what made him feel guiltly. The fact that he had maybe, somewhat, kind of, enjoyed it. Until the next day that is. "Oi'm sorry." He whispered softly.