Shane walked into the kitchen and saw Fiona standing in front of the oven and microwave with her arms crossed, wearing an expression of "questioning her life choices."
She had come home with groceries.
Originally, Fiona planned to cook dinner as usual. But as soon as she got home, she saw Shane moving boxes of clean-looking, convenient frozen burgers and sandwiches back and forth, and heard him say they were cheap wholesale goods from Chinatown...
"Save where you can!" This underlying code of the Gallagher family was triggered!
She didn't hesitate much at the time, stuffed the groceries she bought back into the corner of the fridge, and before Shane could refuse, waved her hand: "We'll help you taste-test them tonight!"
Now, Fiona watched the row of burger buns turning golden in the oven, and the sandwiches spinning on the turntable in the microwave.
Although heating "pre-made" dinners in a microwave wasn't rare in 2010 America, and Fiona herself had eaten cheap "frozen meals" from the supermarket.
But—
Those at least had brands, logos printed on the boxes, and production dates.
These items now looked beautifully packaged, but the brand names were weird, there was no production information, and they didn't look like they were bought from any proper big supermarket at all. They looked more like "underground goods."
The more Fiona looked, the more wrong it felt. The appearance of this food was too perfect, perfect like plastic products.
"Are you sure," she stared at the burgers in the oven, then at the sandwiches in the microwave, "these semi-finished products are actually edible?"
"Of course they're edible."
Shane patted the dust off his clothes, walked over to check the time, and then said:
"There are a few small shops in Chinatown that make their own frozen goods. Many restaurants go there to stock up. I picked up some cheap stuff when passing by. If you've ever eaten a burger at a small restaurant in Chinatown, you've probably eaten the same thing."
"You saying that makes me even more worried."
Fiona rolled her eyes.
"Relax, Fiona."
Ding— The oven rang first.
A wave of heat rushed out, mixed with the smell of meat and bread.
Fiona sighed, took the burgers out of the baking tray, then took the hot sandwiches out of the microwave and placed them on the dining table.
Before long, Lip and Ian returned too, covered in cold wind and exhaustion.
"Yo, what's going on today? Why does it smell like hamburgers? Did someone deliver to the wrong house?"
Lip smelled it as soon as he entered. His gaze swept across the table, landing on the neat rows of burgers and chicken rolls: "Doesn't look like you made these, Fiona."
"Thank God, I finally found a chance not to cook myself."
Fiona said dryly, pointing her chin at Shane: "Ask him. He said he brought them back from Chinatown."
Lip dropped his backpack on the floor and said somewhat exaggeratedly:
"Whoa. So Chinatown has switched to opening arsenals now? Specially producing standard rations? I bet this stuff has the same father as MREs."
"Chinatown?"
Ian threw his jacket onto the back of a chair, picked up a chicken roll to examine it, and prepared to eat: "Looks like stuff from a convenience store freezer."
"Please don't curse my supply channel."
Shane interrupted before he took a bite, "This is the stock I'm using to sell breakfast tomorrow. Bringing it for a test run today. If you guys can eat it, it means it's okay."
"So we are your guinea pigs now."
Lip grunted, but reached out for a burger anyway. "Fine, being fed cheap stuff by you is better than Fiona's 'surprise flavor' cooking."
"Shut up, Lip. You can skip my dinner in the future."
Fiona glared at him.
The burger was bitten into. The bun was fairly soft, the patty slightly salty but not bad-tasting, rating a medium. It tasted like a reheated McDonald's burger from the night before.
Lip chewed twice, his mouth still sharp: "The taste... tastes like 'I'm working for a capitalist.'"
Although he said that, the second bite followed right after.
Ian was more practical: "Tastes okay, protein content looks decent too. Calories are high enough, better than gnawing on cold cereal."
"If you despise it, put it down right now."
Shane rolled his eyes. "I'm selling them tomorrow anyway. Someone will always think 'cheap' means delicious."
"Who would despise free food?"
Lip spread his hands. "Come on, we're risking our lives to test this batch for you. Swallowing it is already taking a risk."
The two complained verbally, but their eating speed wasn't slow at all. Ian had already started on his second chicken roll.
Soon, the table was full of people, everyone holding a burger, chicken roll, or sandwich.
Halfway through the meal, Fiona walked to the fridge, opened the door to grab a beer, and glanced at the old calendar hanging next to the fridge.
While unscrewing the cap, she pointed at the dates with her finger, muttering:
"Is the day after tomorrow Thanksgiving, right?"
"It's the day after the day after tomorrow. The day after tomorrow is Monday."
Lip, still holding half a burger, poked his head out from the table to correct her. "Today is only Saturday."
"Whatever, it's about the same."
Fiona waved her hand impatiently. "To me, any day where I have to figure out how to scrape together a decent big meal is pretty much the same damn holiday."
For many families, Thanksgiving is a portrayal of turkey, football, and warmth.
For the Gallagher family, it was probably one of the few days in the year where they "must let everyone have a decent meal."
"Shane."
She turned her head to look at Shane, who was holding a sandwich in his mouth.
"Didn't you say vegetable prices in Chinatown are cheaper than supermarkets? When you go there to stock up in a few days, check if there are cheaper turkey legs, chicken, potatoes, or something for me?"
"No problem. Leave it to me."
Shane nodded.
Fiona was still a bit worried and added:
"Don't buy anything too expensive. Just enough to make us look like a... normal American family celebrating the holiday. If the price is right, we can consider a whole turkey."
"Don't worry."
Shane joked, "I'll find something good and cheap. If you guys can accept food that looks like it was fished out of a dumpster, I can get it even cheaper."
"Remember to haggle."
Lip interjected from the side. "Don't you understand Chinese? If you get ripped off, I'll personally throw you back for a refund."
"Scram."
Shane laughed and cursed, swallowing the last bite of his sandwich. "I'm done. I'm going down to prepare for tomorrow morning's stall. You guys take your time."
"Good luck."
Fiona said in passing.
She was supportive of Shane setting up a breakfast stall.
Fiona felt that compared to his "unrealistic idea" of "becoming a fitness influencer and selling training plans online," opening a small stall to sell breakfast in the morning was incredibly normal.
She was even a little glad that besides "scamming, cheating, abducting, and stealing," their family finally had a new plan that sounded somewhat legal.
Shane put the empty plate in the sink, wiped his hands, and turned to go downstairs. He still had to prepare for tomorrow's breakfast.
Before he reached the basement, the phone in his pocket vibrated.
This time it wasn't Lip, but Karen.
Two slightly blurry photos popped up on the screen first.
Dim lighting, crappy quality, but the main point was visible.
A white camisole, and the little bunnies on her chest were running out restlessly.
Immediately after, a few text messages:
"Is Little Shane free tonight? I'm so bored alone in my bedroom."
"Didn't you always say I need more 'practice'? Come be my 'personal trainer' tonight."
Shane stared at the screen for two seconds. Well, packing things up... couldn't he pack anytime?
A "multi-million dollar project" with his girlfriend—missing one night meant one less opportunity.
Shane turned straight back to the living room. "Fiona, I'm going out for a bit!"
Before Fiona could ask, he had already slammed the door shut with a bang.
Fiona and Lip and Ian, who were still at the dinner table, looked at each other: ...Well, the kid has grown up.