The Gallagher House.
Upon getting the call, Karen immediately launched into an Oscar-worthy performance, feigning pure joy that Lip had made it home safely. With breathless "excitement," she said, "I'll be right there."
Hearing that, Lip got excited too.
After going so many days without getting laid, Lip—a certified sex addict—was climbing the walls.
She didn't live far, and she had a car.
In no time at all, Karen appeared in the Gallagher living room. She looked innocent, fresh-faced, and beautiful—like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth—standing in front of Lip with a beaming smile.
Lip was grinning from ear to ear.
"Are you okay? How's your leg?" Karen immediately slipped into the role of the concerned girlfriend.
But Lip didn't have the brainpower to care about pleasantries right now. He cut straight to the chase. "Let's fuck."
Karen smiled and nodded. Then, she glanced at Liam, who was sitting in the corner of the sofa. "What about Liam?"
Lip was impatient. "Just put him in the crib over there. It's fine."
The crib was right on the side of the room.
Karen obediently did as she was told.
Moments later.
Liam stood in his crib, ignoring the TV. His eyes were wide open, watching Karen and Lip "play."
Was his young mind being scarred for life?
Growing up in this absolute chaotic shitshow, who knows what kind of person Liam is going to turn into?
On the Couch.
Playtime was over. It was halftime.
Lip, acting the manly protector, had his arm around Karen.
Karen rested her head on his chest.
They started talking.
After a few sentences, Karen casually steered the conversation toward the state of the Gallagher household.
Lip, who was street-smart but big-picture stupid, didn't suspect a thing. He started running his mouth, bitching about Carl, Ian, and Peggy.
When he mentioned Ian, he gritted his teeth in anger.
When he talked about Peggy—who was back in her wheelchair and knocking on death's door—he was visibly gloating.
"That old bitch is gonna kick the bucket soon!"
"When she croaks, Carl and Ian will move back in."
"And the family will be whole again," Lip declared.
"What about Debbie?" Karen asked, stifling a laugh.
Lip choked on his words. That was a headache he didn't have an answer for. "I don't know what to do about Debbie... I don't even know how she's doing in there. I plan to go visit her tomorrow. Want to come?"
In this heat, Karen had zero interest in dragging herself to a juvenile detention center. But she had no choice; she needed Lip to keep making money for her. She had to keep the leash tight. So, she smiled sweetly and nodded. "Okay."
After agreeing, Karen asked, "So, how are you going to handle the Steve problem?"
The moment Steve's name came up, Lip's expression turned savage. It was instinctive. "That bastard has to pay!"
"I already know what to do. I asked Fiona about something earlier, and she confirmed my suspicion."
"Steve is a car thief."
"I can ruin him with just that!"
"But," Lip added, frustration creeping in, "my leg is messed up right now. I can't move around much. I have to wait a while."
Lip went on a tirade, venting his spleen.
Karen played along perfectly. "No rush. Let that bastard Steve enjoy his freedom for a few more days."
"Yeah," Lip grunted heavily, then swore an oath. "He won't be free for long. This time, I'm going to bury him..."
Having exhausted the topic of the Gallagher drama, Lip finally remembered to ask about his girlfriend. "What about you? How have you been?"
Karen gave a sugary smile. "Same old. Except for missing you, nothing special happened."
That stroked Lip's ego perfectly. He was thrilled, and a bit smug. "Missed me that much, huh? Come on then. Round two."
Karen didn't waste a second. She got right back to work.
---
The Alibi Room.
It was mid-afternoon. Aside from the regulars who basically lived there, the bar was empty.
Frank, his ugly face twisted in pain and misery, sat on his usual stool, chugging beer after beer.
At a round table nearby, Peggy and Dexter sat opposite each other, leisurely smoking and drinking.
"Can I trust you?" Peggy asked, coughing out a cloud of smoke. Her voice sounded weak.
Dexter smiled and shook his head slightly. "Probably not. I'm not exactly a 'good guy.'"
Peggy was amused. "I know. But because you said that, and because of how you treat Carl... I think I can trust you."
Dexter took a drag of his cigarette. "What do you need me to do?"
"I don't have much time left..." Peggy downed the drink in front of her. She didn't beat around the bush. "I have a little money. I want to leave it to Carl. But I can't just give it to him."
"Because you know how it is. If I hand him the cash, within a month, those little shits Fiona and Lip—and that scum Frank—will bleed him dry. Carl won't see a dime."
"I want you to manage this money. When Carl turns eighteen, give it to him."
Dexter smiled but didn't agree immediately. "You could set up a trust. Write a will."
Peggy shook her head instantly. "I don't trust lawyers or banks. They're sharks that eat people without spitting out the bones."
Dexter understood that sentiment. He thought for a moment and came up with a plan. "How much money do you have?"
Peggy didn't hide it. "A little over sixty thousand."
That was about what he expected. Dexter continued, "I have a proposal. Hear me out."
"Speak," Peggy said, her old bossy demeanor flaring up.
"I'm building a house on the empty lot next to the Gallaghers," Dexter said. "I'll have my lawyer draw up a contract to lease that house to Carl."
"Carl is ten now. Eight years until he's an adult."
"We set the lease term for eight years. You give me the money now as the 'rent.' When the eight years are up, the title of the house automatically transfers to Carl. It becomes his."
"Trust me, in eight years, that house will be worth at least double what it is now."
Peggy blinked rapidly.
It didn't take her long to catch on. "If we do that, you're taking a pretty big loss."
Dexter smiled. "You know I don't need the money."
Peggy smiled too. She didn't hesitate. "Done. We do it your way."
Dexter nodded, took another drag, and lowered his voice with a grin. "I have one extra condition."
"Name it," Peggy replied.
"I want you to use the time you have left to create absolute hell for Frank, Fiona, and Lip. Do everything possible to ensure that their relationship with Carl is shattered beyond repair," Dexter said plainly. No riddles.
Hearing this, Peggy's smile turned meaningful. She didn't speak, just stared at Dexter.
After about seven or eight seconds, she finally spoke. "They are my family, you know..."
"I'll help Carl handle your funeral arrangements," Dexter interrupted before she could finish. "Fiona and the others won't handle your final affairs properly. Frank definitely won't. You know that."
Peggy knew that for a fact.
Therefore:
"Deal," Peggy said, cutting the sentimentality.
"Pleasure doing business with you," Dexter smiled back.