When We Were Younger

The Birth

It was morning in early February in Moycullen, Ireland when Lilly Morgan awoke from her slumber. She slowly climbed out of bed, wearing a white night shift, and grasped her very pregnant belly. The bairns had kept waking her up the night before, as did some back pain. In fact, her back still hurt. At a leisurely pace, the expectant mother waddled to the closest window of her bedroom to look outside. It was snowing. The snowflakes came down in big clumps. Lilly, having had an interesting and almost life threatening experience last May with a blizzard, was surprisingly unperturbed by the oncoming winter storm. Snow reminded her of pine trees, and pine trees reminded her of...she cut off the thought.

She grabbed a red woolen robe from one of her chairs and enveloped herself in it to keep warm. The woman put on some red slippers and exited her bedroom. She looked up and down the oak wood paneled hallway and sighed. So many bedrooms. The one she stayed in was the master bedroom, of course, since she was the countess of the estate.

Lilly went to the room across from hers and opened it. It was the nursery. Sir Patrick had helped fund the slight renovation to it and she was quite grateful for it. The room was spacious, as was the whole house. It contained two bassinets with small quilted blankets, one pink and one blue. There were variously sized stuffed animals, including a giant giraffe that was halfway to the ceiling. Lilly chuckled at it. Sean had gone and bought it for her in Galway. The walls were oak wood paneled, of course, since that was the theme of the whole house and every single room, save for the foyer. It was still wood paneled but had cream colored walls above it and to the ceiling. The kitchen was similar in style. Lilly entered the room and stared down at the dark blue carpet. She sat down in a wooden rocking chair and rocked back and forth. There was a shelf full of books for babies adjacent to the door. There was also a changing table, the wooden dressers for the baby clothes, a walk-in closet, and two comfy chairs, one pink and one blue.

Yes, the room was complete. She was glad it was all done. Lilly got up uncomfortably and left the room. The smell of an Irish breakfast invaded her nose and she shut her eyes with a smile. Boy, was she ever hungry. She waddled down the cornered stairs while holding her stomach and walked through the foyer towards the kitchen. She opened the door to see Breena Harrington, a blonde haired woman, barking orders at some cooks who were preparing breakfast for the large household.

"Dunna just stand there, ya dolt! That bread needs tah be cut!" she shouted at an unlucky brunette girl.

Lilly giggled to herself and shut the door. Breena sure ran a tight ship. Lilly went towards the dining room. Most of the household was already there, save for Karen and Sean. They weren't exactly early risers. The room contained a portrait of her parents, of her brother Brian, and a portrait of herself and Janet as children. The oak paneling reached everywhere except to the fireplace, which was encased in white marble. The dining room table was, of course, oak, and smack dab in the middle of the room. There were three large arched windows overlooking the gardens in the back. The whole room was in an uproar. Michael, her head butler and a man well into his fifties with a balding head and small glasses, came to her side.

"Excuse me, my lady, but Sir Patrick Nolan is here to see you," he said. "He's waiting in the main study. Shall I invite him to breakfast?"

Lilly nodded. "Yes, please. Thank you, Michael.

Michael bowed to her before leaving and Lilly scampered into the dining room to the head of the table. "Well, I see everyone is ready for breakfast," she announced loudly.

Dutch and everyone else looked at her. "Ah, Countess!" Dutch exclaimed. "How are you this morning?"

Lilly waved him off. "Would ya stop with bein' so formal, Da? It's weird."