“Get this, the mom, whatever her name is, apparently died four days ago. The oldest kid, Justin, it looks like he’s back and trying to take care of the little ones.”
She leaned down to peer into the camera. “Wait, doesn’t…hold on a minute.” Bernie gestured with her hand and vanished from the view.
Soon enough, Del could hear her talking to someone. He concentrated on trying to figure out who she was with, but then he heard steps coming closer. Suddenly the toaster popped and he jolted.
“Holy shit!” Del hissed, holding his hand over his heart.
“Language, Delbert,” his mother said, picking up the tablet and peering into it. “What’s this about the O’Dwyers?”
Great, thanks Bernie, for telling Mom was at your place.Del groaned internally.
“The woman died and the oldest came back to take care of the little ones, I guess?” he recapped, and Mom frowned thoughtfully.
While Bernie buttered her toast, Mom went to sit at the table. “He has to be about twenty now. But the kids, isn’t the youngest still a baby?” she asked, looking worried.
“Yeah. She’s maybe year and a half. The others are like…maybe four-ish and six?” Del shrugged, he couldn’t tell closely and now regretted not having asked Harper when they were waiting.
At Mom and Bernie’s request, he told what had been going on the previous night, and both women hummed and gasped in the correct spots, ending up looking even more concerned than Del felt.
“A boy that age getting custody, if that’s what he’s after, it’s gonna take some funds,” Bernie stated.
“Who owns the house?” Del asked, because he had no clue despite owning the neighboring one and having stayed there for a year.
“Not Tracey, that’s for sure. I don’t know, but I’ll find out,” Mom said, looking determined.
“Mom, don’t go poking into—”
“It’s not that. I’m worried, Del. I have friends in town still, they’ll know.” And would they ever. O’Dwyers had a reputation as a family, and it wasn’t just Tracey and her kids, either, but the whole big family of them.
“How will he feed them all?” Del asked the most pressing question that had been on his mind since he’d dropped them off that night.
“Well, if you know anyone who can cook on a budget…” Bernie smirked.
“I’m not adopting a twenty-year-old and his little siblings!”
“Who said anything about adopting them?” Bernie’s expression changed into a more serious one. “Look, you’re a caretaker at heart. A guy that age with three kids…it’s not going to be easy.”
“Yes, your sister is right,” Mom piped up. “From what I remember, he’s been gone for years now. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen when he ran off. None of those kids have fathers, you know?”
And this was the kind of nasty gossip that Del wanted to know, really, deep down. He hated himself for it, but it was something he felt like someone should take into account.
He didn’t have to prompt Mom, so he just sat back and listened to her talk.
“I don’t know about Justin’s father, but I know Tracey had him really young. That was a scandal on its own back then. Then she got into drugs like most of the O’Dwyers do eventually—”
She was cut off by Bernie’s pointed “Mom!”
“Oh hush, you both know the reputation that family has in that town.” And Del did, now that he cared enough to try and remember. “Anyway, I don’t think any of those kids have the same dad. I remember the oldest girl’s father. He’s in prison for murder, I think. He was a big black man and you can guess what the town racists said about that.” She looked disgusted at the casual small town racism, which made Del love her even more. She didn’t take anyone’s shit, not when it was about things people couldn’t help like race or sexuality.
“So none of the dads will come and swoop the kids into safety?” Del knew the answer already, but he had to ask.
Mom looked dead serious. “No, which is why Justin needs help. The kind his family won’t be able to provide.”
Del hummed noncommittally. He wasn’t sure about any of this, of anything his mother was trying to say.
“I’ll let you know when I’ve asked around about that house. Just…you know, be the man I know you can be, all right?”
“What does that even mean?” Del grinned at her.
She snorted. “Be my Del. Just be you. The rest will sort itself out.”
“Yeah, Delbert, be you,” Bernie cooed in a tone that was as familiar to Del as his own voice.