Anne Gallagher

No more comforters until Carl kicks the head lice

"I got semolina, seven-grain and whole wheat!" Fiona announces as she walks into the kitchen.
"You work at a bakery and all you stole was bread? Where're the crullers and turnovers?" V asks.
"We want sugar," Debbie demands.
"Yeah? Too bad. Free toast for a week. Who wants a sandwich?" I'm okay with sandwiches. I especially love peanut butter and jelly. And no crust.
"Mine with the crusts cut off. How was your wake-and-bake?" Ian asks.
"2:00 a.m. start time. I don't know how Lucia does it." Ian goes out through the kitchen door with Lip.
"Hey, I got a surprise for you," Steve says, walking into the room.
"Gotta do something about that toilet." V pipes up. Oh yeah. It's not a pretty situation.
"What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing, if you don't mind squatting above the seat like a Laotian coolie so your ass doesn't touch the water."
"Did you try and fix it?"
"Hell, no. I just got my nails done."
"I got us a room at the Delacroix tonight."
"Good for you. Who you gonna take? Sounds nice."
"Where are the knives? Carl?!"
"So tonight, what do you think?"
"Like I'm going to a hotel tonight."
"You know a great thing about hotels is that the toilets actually work." Before Fiona could continue arguing, V's phone goes off.
"Hello?... You're shitting me! Okay, we're on our way!" Everyone looks at her confused.
"Lip and Ian just found a truckload of fresh meat. We gotta go pick it up." Oh finally! Meat! It's been a while because we're trying to save money for the winter. Carl and I decide to stay back and clean up breakfast while everyone gets their meat.
"It's been so long, I almost forget what meat tastes like." Carl chuckles, putting the bread away.
"Me too. Maybe we can take some for lunch and share with Gilbert." I reply.
"Anne? I don't want you getting too attached to Gilbert."
"Don't worry. I know he's bound to leave us sooner or later. And I'll be ready. I just hope it'll be later." I sighed.

About 20 minutes later, everyone comes back inside to a spotless kitchen.
"Nice job twins," Lip says, ruffling our hair.
"How the hell we gonna fit all of that in there?" Fiona asks, referring to all the meat. We have enough to last us till spring!
"We can hang it in the garage till spring, hack off what we need," Lip suggests.
"Rats would get it." Fiona rebutted. Carl sees a mouse trap and grabs it.
"Rats won't be a problem," Carl says, holding the mousetrap.
"Move, move, move!" Steve says, running in with Ian and a piece of meat that's bigger than my body. "Move, move, move, move, move! Here we go!" They flop it onto the table.
"Does Ron Fitzgerald still have that chainsaw?"
"Yeah, he owes me 'cause I told his wife he was on his way home when he was actually getting a hummer from some dude."
"Lip? Lip, let's go." Ian says, trying to get him to go get the chainsaw.
"Yeah."
Carl and I start clearing out space in the fridge for all the meat. I throw away all the dangerously expired food, while he eats the food that isn't. Once I finish, I sit at the table and watch Carl.
"Got more newspapers," Debbie says, coming into the room. She gives me the newspapers as she goes upstairs. Carl follows behind so he can brush his teeth.
"Oh, I think this cheese expired when Bush was president," Steve says, starting to throw it away.
"It's supposed to age. It's fine." V says, taking the cheese from him. We all hear the chainsaw from outside.
"Wait. Who's got the chainsaw?" Fiona asks, noticing that Carl wasn't in the room.
"Lip," I answer. She sighs in relief.
"You know, another cool thing about hotels is that you don't have to saw your own meat."
"Any more gallon-sized Ziplocks?"
"You look exhausted. You could use the getaway." I hope Fiona ends up going. She needs the getaway. Badly.
"Fuck you," Fiona says. We hear Debbie groan as she starts coming downstairs.
"What?" Fiona asks.
"Upstairs bathroom," Debbie replies.
"What is it?"
"What used to be in the toilet is now in the tub." Ew. That's disgusting.
"Check-in time is 4:00."
"Oh, great idea. I'm in! Let's pencil that in for, say, 2023. Watch Anne for me." She looks to Debbie. "Come on." The two go up the stairs to fix the problem.
"Brother, you gotta stop embarrassing yourself. Fiona's a hood girl, not a debutante from Glencoe. It's painful, man! You are always asking her on lunches, taking a getaway. What's next, coed bikini waxes and a spa day? When she says, 'fuck you,' it means 'I like you.' It's hood-girl speak. Learn the language." He's not wrong. Monica was that way too. And so is V sometimes. Me on the other hand, I don't think I am much in the way of a "hood girl."
"Okay, any suggestions?"
"All day, all she does is make decisions. Five kids, fuckin' Frank? Stop asking her what she needs. Fucking tell her."
"You know what? I like that idea." Steve turns to me. "Do you think you could manage for one night while I take Fiona out?" I nodded as Carl comes back downstairs.
"Could you manage watching Anne for one night while I take Fiona out?" Steve asks Carl.
"I've pretty much been single hand-idly been taking care of Anne. Go. Let Fiona rest."
"Okay. I'm gonna go talk to Lip and Debbie. Get them on the same page. Then tell Fiona she's coming with me tonight."