Veronica left the kitchen, deep in thought. Returning to the front of the restaurant, she looked at Ethel, who clearly stuck out like a sore thumb in this place. Veronica thought for a moment, sighed silently, and walked over.
She didn't hate Ethel. It was just that right now, she had absolutely no desire to be a mom. She just wanted to live free and happy with Kevin.
Sitting down next to Ethel, Veronica took a deep breath, forced a smile, and started chatting with the girl.
After talking for a while, Veronica checked the time and got up to work.
Before long, night fell.
Frank—who had successfully swindled $75,000 from Noah Pitts, then grew a pair of steel balls and embezzled $25,000 of it for himself—was driving Kevin's pickup truck back home with Peggy.
Peggy sat in the passenger seat, counting the cash.
She counted for a good long while. Once she tallied up the $50,000, she tucked the money away, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a few silent drags. Something felt off.
Frank, that piece of shit, hadn't mentioned splitting the money again.
He had been whining about it the entire drive there, non-stop...
Now, staring at all this cash, he was silent?
Peggy knew her son. She knew exactly what kind of weasel he was. She immediately concluded that Frank had skimmed off the top.
Heh.
Peggy sneered. Without a word, she reached out and grabbed a fork lying on the dashboard. She turned to Frank. "Noah only gave you fifty grand?"
Frank's heart skipped a beat. He panicked, avoiding Peggy's gaze, trying to sound casual. "Yeah, just fifty. And I had to threaten him to get even that..."
Frank started spewing bullshit.
Peggy knew Frank's lying face better than her own. She didn't hesitate. She slammed the fork into Frank's left thigh!
"AHH!!" Frank screamed in agony, his ugly face twisting in pain. "Mommy! What are you doing?!"
"Give me the rest of the money!!" Peggy took the cigarette out of her mouth and jammed the burning cherry into Frank's left arm. "You think you can steal from me?"
"AHH! It hurts!!" The heat of the cigarette was no joke. Frank shrieked again, tears streaming down his face.
"Money!" Peggy pulled the cigarette back, took a deep drag, and roared.
Frank was terrified.
But even then, the lure of booze and drugs was strong. He gritted his teeth and only pulled out ten grand. "Here!! I worked all day for you! I deserve a cut!"
"Heh," Peggy sneered, taking the cash. Her eyes narrowed. "How much more? Give me every fucking cent!! Don't make me really hurt you!"
Gulp.
Frank turned to look at Peggy.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
Because he genuinely believed Peggy would do it—because he was genuinely terrified—Frank caved completely. "Jesus Christ! By rights, you should give me a cut!"
A moment later.
All $75,000 was in her hands.
Peggy felt like Frank had probably coughed it all up, but she couldn't be 100% sure. So...
Ssssss.
Without a word, Peggy pressed the cigarette into Frank's left arm again. "Any more?"
Anyone who's been burned by a cigarette knows that pain.
Frank cried.
Tears streamed down his craggy, ugly face.
"No more! No more! There's really no more! Mommy, please!" Frank wailed, begging for mercy.
Seeing this...
"Heh," Peggy scoffed. Now she believed him. She pulled the cigarette back. "Twenty-five grand. You really got some balls! If you weren't my son, I would've put a bullet in your head."
Frank didn't dare talk back. He just hissed in pain, sucking in cold air.
Peggy couldn't be bothered to look at him. Looking at him just pissed her off. She clamped the cigarette in her mouth and went back to counting her money.
Frank caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, and his heart bled.
Twenty-five thousand dollars!
Think of how much booze that could buy! How many drugs!
Fxxk!!!
Frank was in pain, heartbroken, and furious!
---
The Gallagher Backyard.
Lip drove a beat-up van slowly into the yard. He'd found it at the scrapyard that morning. Aside from the horn not working, everything else made noise. It took him all day to fix it just enough to move.
Karen had paid for the van—eight hundred bucks total.
"I'll fix it up properly tomorrow. We should be open for business the day after," Lip parked the van, took a drag of his cigarette, and smiled confidently at Karen. "Give me a few days, and I'll pay you back that eight hundred."
Karen smiled sweetly. "Why do you keep saying that? This is our business. That money was my investment. You don't have to pay me back."
Lip liked hearing that. "Then I guess I won't pay you back."
Karen nodded with a smile. "Yeah. I'm hungry. Let's get some dinner."
"Alright, let's go," Lip agreed.
They got out of the van and headed toward the Gallagher house.
Inside the kitchen, Fiona was making dinner. She had seen the rusty van pull into the yard and now watched Lip and Karen getting out, laughing and chatting. She immediately frowned, feeling annoyed.
As a woman, over the last three months, Fiona had realized something was off about Karen. She genuinely hated the girl.
Now, Lip and Karen had bought some junk vehicle, plotting god knows what...
Fiona was certain it wasn't anything good.
So, as soon as Lip and Karen walked through the door, Fiona asked, "What's with the van?"
"Bought it. Eight hundred bucks," Lip saw Fiona's annoyance instantly. He answered nonchalantly as he walked to the sink to wash his hands. "Karen and I are starting an ice cream truck business. We needed a vehicle."
"Where did you get the money?" Fiona frowned deeper.
"Karen's money," Lip washed his hands quickly and called out to Karen. "Karen, wash up."
"Okay," Karen said with a bright smile, completely ignoring Fiona's glare. She didn't say a single word to Fiona, acting like she wasn't even there.
Karen's attitude pissed Fiona off, even though she was relieved Lip hadn't spent his own money.
Fiona wanted to say something, but she bit her tongue and turned back to Lip. "There are a lot more cops around lately. You sure this is a good idea?"
Lip was as confident as ever. "Just a few cops. I can handle it."
Fiona was still worried. "Maybe consider a different business?"
Lip looked at Fiona, too lazy to argue. He just signaled for Karen to sit at the table.
At the table.
Jasmine, completely making herself at home, watched the drama unfold with a smile. Seeing Lip go silent, she turned to Fiona. "Your family is so interesting."
Fiona was still frowning. Hearing this, she felt helpless. She couldn't understand how Jasmine had skin thick enough to still be here.
Unbelievable! Fiona thought silently. She gave Jasmine a bitter smile. "Help me serve dinner."
"You got it," Jasmine said playfully.
Just then.
Carl came home. He glanced at Fiona, said nothing, and headed straight for the stairs.
Seeing this, Fiona felt like she was going to explode.
First Lip, now Carl...
None of them listened!
"Carl, where are you going? Come eat dinner," Fiona called out quickly.
Carl didn't stop. "Already ate."
"..." Fiona was speechless. "Where did you eat? What did you eat?"
"Burgers," Carl replied.
"You want a little bit more?" Fiona asked again.
Carl didn't answer.
A vein throbbed in Fiona's forehead. She wanted to scream, but she bit her lip and held it in.
Sitting at the table, Debbie watched the scene unfold, a look of distinct melancholy on her small face.
Lip and Fiona were on the outs because of Karen...
Carl and Fiona were practically enemies because of Dexter...
Ian was off doing god knows what all day...
Fiona had gonorrhea...
Grandma Peggy had moved in...
And Jasmine, who came out of nowhere, was sticking around like she lived here...
Debbie felt like everything had changed. Her head hurt.
---
"Let's go grab dinner together. What do you say?"
Under the bleachers by the school field, Ian, having just finished a 'session,' asked with a hopeful smile.
Mickey had just cracked open a beer. Hearing this, he stiffened slightly, then snapped his head toward Ian, rejecting him without hesitation. "Dinner together? For what? If you didn't eat, go eat by yourself."
Ding.
Expectation shattered.
Ian was disappointed. He fell silent for a moment, but refused to give up. He smiled again. "We've been together for months. Getting dinner together is normal... My treat. Just something quick."
Together?
Mickey couldn't handle that word. He panicked. "Why do you act like a chick, caring about shit like that? Eating together, not eating together—what's the difference?"
"To me, there's a difference," Ian said earnestly, forcing his smile to stay in place as he looked at Mickey.
Mickey wasn't book smart, but he wasn't stupid. He saw that Ian was serious. He hesitated, staying silent as he chugged his beer.
In the blink of an eye, the can was empty.
Mickey burped. "You're a pain in the ass! Let's go. We'll buy two dinners and eat in the car."
It wasn't exactly what Ian wanted—he instinctively wanted to say they should eat in a restaurant...
But the words died on his lips. He hesitated.
Ian realized Mickey had compromised.
Pushing him further right now probably wouldn't end well.
"Deal," Ian smiled, deciding to meet him halfway. "What do you want to eat?"
"Don't know. Let's see what's open," Mickey tossed the can aside casually. He didn't look at Ian, just started walking with long strides.
Ian smiled and hurried to catch up.
They walked side-by-side toward the car. For a moment, neither spoke.
The atmosphere was a little ambiguous... or maybe, just a little weird.
---
The night shift ended.
Cleanup was handled by Veronica and the others as usual.
Dexter was in a rush to get back and check the footage from Little Crow, so he didn't waste time. He left the kitchen quickly and signaled Bianca to head out.
"Ethel, feel free to come eat here anytime. And you're welcome to come over to my place to hang out whenever you want," Dexter said to Ethel with a bright smile before leaving.
Ethel had been sitting on the sofa reading a book. Hearing this, she looked at Dexter and nodded obediently. "Okay, Mr. King. Thank you."
"No problem. I'm off."
"Okay."
Dexter and Bianca left the restaurant and got into the car.
"Ethel is really special. She has this... vibe I can't quite describe," Bianca said, looking through the car window at Ethel inside the restaurant.
"Elegant?" Dexter suggested with a smile.
Bianca's eyes lit up. She nodded excitedly. "Yes! Elegant."
"Haha, Ms. Greene, looks like your vocabulary needs some work. Did you slack off in school?" Dexter teased, seeing her reaction.
"..." Bianca paused, feeling a little embarrassed. She tried to tough it out. "I just couldn't think of the word for a second."
"Is that so?"
Bianca: "...Ahem. Of course it is. Just drive."
"Alright, as you wish, Ms. Just-Couldn't-Think-Of-The-Word," Dexter laughed mischievously.
Bianca: "...I just realized you're really annoying."
"Haha, my bad."
"That's better," Bianca said haughtily.
They drove back to 2118 North Wallace Street, laughing and chatting along the way.