Chapter 18: Lip's Trouble
"I want to talk to Ian, but the problem is he's been dodging us all day. You know how it goes—when the younger brother screws up, the older brother pays the price," Mickey said, swinging the bat in his hand.
"Can't we work something out?" Lip tried to negotiate.
"That's gonna be tough," Mickey shrugged. "Someone's gotta pay today."
"Looks like we're not talking our way out of this," Lip muttered to the blonde girl beside him.
The girl glanced at the situation, gave Lip a helpless expression, and quietly stepped aside. Mickey and his two friends didn't bother her.
"Lip!" Just as Mickey and his crew prepared to make a move, Frank walked over.
"Frank?" Lip was surprised to see him.
"Are these your friends?" Frank asked, not waiting for an answer before pulling Lip behind him protectively.
"Uh… more like clients," Lip replied.
Frank sized Mickey up. The kid looked around fifteen or sixteen, filthy and disheveled like he hadn't bathed in days. His hair was a mess, and he gave off a foul odor. His clothes were stained with grease—clearly unwashed for a long time.
"So, you're Frank? Lip and Ian's deadbeat dad?" Mickey said. "We've heard about you—the drunk who lives at the bar. This ain't your business, old man. Move. I'm here for Lip."
Frank's reputation wasn't exactly stellar—known for scamming and cowardice. Mickey wasn't the type to respect his elders and clearly didn't see Frank as a threat.
"What if I say no?" Frank replied calmly.
"Then I'll beat your ass too!" Mickey raised his bat.
"Need a hand, Frank?" Robbo asked from nearby.
"Nah, I've got this," Frank said.
"Tch, whatever. We'll let it go—for now. Tell Ian this isn't over," Mickey said, backing off as he noticed Robbo and Vlad nearby.
Mickey wasn't sure who those two were, but he could tell they weren't to be messed with. And since they were with Frank, Mickey made the smart choice and left with his crew.
They were just local schoolyard thugs, after all—while Robbo and Vlad looked like the real deal, actual gangsters. Not in the same league.
"Thanks," Lip muttered awkwardly. If Frank hadn't shown up, he'd definitely have taken a beating. Still, it felt weird saying thank you to Frank.
"This is my number. Call me if you change your mind—we've only got three days," Robbo said, handing Frank a card before walking off with Vlad.
If Frank wasn't going to help, they'd have to find someone else.
"Frank, my mom's been wanting to see you. Come by our place when you've got time," said the blonde girl—Karen—before leaving.
"You two together now?" Frank asked, watching her go.
"No. Just friends," Lip said as he pulled out a cigarette, stuck one in his mouth, and handed another to Frank.
Seeing Frank holding Liam in one arm, Lip helped him light it. Frank took a drag and said, "Use protection. You don't want a kid before you're even legally an adult."
"She's not exclusive with me. I know of at least four or five others," Lip said.
"She's your first, isn't she?" Frank asked suddenly.
Hack! Cough! Lip choked on his smoke at the blunt question.
"Everyone gets sentimental about their first. Don't fall for her. You're not a good match," Frank said.
"I won't," Lip said after collecting himself.
"Still, you better be safe. If what you said about her is true, and she gets pregnant, you'd better be sure you're not the one on the hook for it," Frank warned.
"I know what I'm doing," Lip replied, frowning. He didn't like being lectured.
"I've got a test to take for someone. Later. Don't forget to visit Sheila," Lip said as he walked off.
"Sheila… yeah. Sooner or later, I've got to face that. Can't keep running forever," Frank muttered, trying to steel his nerves.
About ten minutes later, Frank stood outside the house, staring at it with a complicated expression—part hesitation, part fear.
Inside the House
The person inside seemed to notice Frank right away. The front door flung open, and Sheila stood there, waving excitedly and calling him over.
"It's been so long, Sheila," Frank said, pushing open the gate and walking toward the front door.
"I'm so glad you're okay, Frank! I heard you were in the hospital and lost your memory—I've been worried sick." As Frank reached the doorstep, Sheila threw her arms around him in a tight hug.
"Ahem, let's talk inside, yeah? Inside," Frank coughed awkwardly, gently prying her off. He took off his shoes, sealed them in a plastic bag, and slipped on a pair of house slippers before stepping in.
In China, switching to indoor slippers is second nature. But in the West, it's not common—most people just wear their shoes around the house, even lounging on the couch or lying on the bed. There's no real tradition of changing into slippers.
Sheila's household, however, was an exception.
Frank glanced at Sheila and tried to recall everything he knew about her.
Sheila was the mother of Karen—Lip's whatever-she-was. A mature woman with lingering charm, she was attractive, curvy, and had a soft, gentle demeanor. Definitely the type to settle down and build a home with.
Her household was doing fairly well, financially speaking. She lived with her husband and daughter, and her husband, Officer Eddie, had a stable job on the police force with good benefits. In this rundown neighborhood, they were basically upper middle class.
'Frank' and Officer Eddie had crossed paths many times—usually because of Frank's countless cons, scams, and shady moneymaking schemes. Eddie had caught him in the act more than once.
But judging by how Sheila just hugged him, it was obvious there was something going on between them. Even her daughter Karen seemed aware of it—she was the one who'd invited Frank over in the first place.
As for how 'Frank' managed to sleep with Sheila and cuckold a police officer… that was a long story. Complicated, too.
Despite the family's decent financial standing, there was a deep rift in their home life.
Sheila suffered from several mental health disorders—compulsive cleanliness, contamination phobia, agoraphobia, and more.
She was terrified of bringing dirt into the house. Anyone entering had to remove their shoes, place them in sealed bags, and switch to indoor slippers. Even the furniture—couches, chairs, everything—was wrapped in clear plastic. The house was unnaturally spotless.
Her agoraphobia was so severe that she couldn't even leave the house. She couldn't go outside, not even to the gate at the edge of the front yard.