Funeral Home, Viewing Room.
Dragging Frank to the side by himself, Carl immediately turned and walked toward Dexter. "It's past ten. Can we start?"
Dexter smiled and nodded. "Of course."
Responding briefly, Dexter turned to the funeral director. "I say let's begin."
Watching this scene, Fiona felt a bitter sting.
Carl was her brother, yet he went to ask Dexter for permission... What did that make her? The Big Sister? Chopped liver?
Fiona frowned subconsciously, but no one paid her any mind.
Before long.
The overturned chairs were set upright, and everyone took their seats. Monica, who ultimately failed to catch Ian, returned with a long, miserable face. She glanced at Frank lying on the floor to the side, gritted her teeth, ignored him, and chose to sit next to Fiona.
The viewing room quieted down, and the ceremony officially began, quickly moving to the eulogy stage.
Clayton, Jerry, and Wyatt—feeling incredibly complicated emotions—took the stage one by one as Peg's sons and said a few words.
After the three brothers finished.
Monica thought for a moment, then ran up to the podium. "...Peg Gallagher wasn't a good person, and she certainly wasn't a good mother. She was a cnt..."
Hearing the "C-word," Dexter, who knew Monica taking the stage would be entertaining, grinned brilliantly, thoroughly amused.
Monica kept talking. The expressions on the faces of everyone in the audience were varied and spectacular as they listened to her speech.
Finally, Monica finished.
Fiona hesitated for a few seconds, gritted her teeth, went up, and perfunctorily said a few words. Then Debbie, who was genuinely saddened by the death of this family member, went up and expressed her longing.
Time drifted by slowly, everything proceeding according to schedule.
Carl was the last to take the stage. His eyes were red, and he spoke with deep sadness. It was interesting. Out of so many people in the room, Carl was the only one who genuinely liked and sincerely missed Comrade Peg Gallagher.
Carl wasn't good with words. After speaking for a while, tears slid down his cheeks. He raised his hand to wipe his face, couldn't continue, and stopped talking.
Shortly after.
Everyone paid their respects to the body one by one. Once done, they walked outside, preparing to move to the cemetery.
Outside the Funeral Home.
Dexter and Kev stood side by side, each lighting a cigarette, waiting quietly.
Kev exhaled a plume of smoke, unable to help but sigh with emotion. "That kid Carl... he's really changed a lot."
"Yeah," Dexter replied, feeling the same way. In less than a year, Carl had grown from that antisocial little delinquent into this little guy who would weep for Peg. Human growth is truly fascinating.
Kev turned his head slightly to look at Dexter. "I think this should be credited to you. If not for you, I don't think he'd be like this."
Hearing this, Dexter smiled. "What's the angle? Why are you buttering me up?"
Kev flashed a goofy grin immediately. "Haha, really can't hide anything from you. I actually do have an angle."
"Shoot." Dexter was actually curious about what Kev wanted to do.
"My dating anniversary with Veronica is coming up in a few days," Kev immediately glanced sneakingly at Veronica, who was standing not far away with Ethel, and whispered, "I wanted to ask to borrow your yacht for a day. Is that okay?"
Tsk tsk.
Dating anniversary? What the hell is that?
Dexter subconsciously sized up Comrade Kev, thinking this guy really was a hopeless romantic. He couldn't help but laugh. "Sure, use it whenever."
Hearing this, Kev grinned foolishly, baring his teeth. "Thanks. You really are my brother."
Just as the words left his mouth. Carl, his eyes still slightly red, walked over.
Seeing Carl, Dexter glanced over at Fiona and the others. Fiona, Lip, Debbie, Liam, and Karen were gathered together, looking in their direction. Naturally, Fiona's expression was a bit twisted.
"Let's get in the car," Dexter smiled, withdrew his gaze, and signaled Carl to get in.
The cemetery was a bit of a distance away. Walking would take too long; they had to drive.
Carl nodded and moved obediently.
---
To the side.
Lip pulled out his cigarettes, lit one, and spoke to Debbie. "Debbie, Karen and I aren't going to the cemetery. We still have work to do. We'll celebrate properly tonight."
"Mm," Debbie blinked. She felt inexplicably tired and didn't bother trying to persuade him. She responded, then turned to Fiona. "What about you?"
Fiona actually didn't want to go either. What followed was just the burial; it was meaningless.
But, thinking of Carl's behavior just now, and knowing Debbie wanted to go, Fiona gritted her teeth and nodded. "I'll go with you."
"Okay," Debbie replied, then realized a problem. "How are we getting there?"
It wasn't a big issue.
Lip, who hadn't left yet, immediately provided the answer. "You guys can ride with the funeral home cars."
Problem solved.
"Alright," Debbie had no objections.
With that, it was settled. "See you tonight, Debbie," Lip said his goodbyes and left with Karen. Fiona held Liam and went with Debbie to find the funeral director.
At the same time.
Inside the Viewing Room.
Monica, having already given Frank a few hard slaps, raised her hand again. Smack! Another slap landed.
Finally, Frank woke up, his eyes snapping open.
"Oh~ Frank, you're finally awake," Monica, sitting on top of Frank, said with an excited smile.
Frank felt his cheeks burning. He blinked, a bit confused. "What happened?"
Monica smiled. "You were knocked out by Carl."
Hearing this, Frank's eyes instantly bulged with rage. He cursed, "That little bastard, he dared to hit me..."
Mid-curse, Frank remembered the situation with Clayton. He hurriedly sat up straight, changing the subject as he shouted, "Where's Clayton? He has to cough up some money! This isn't over!"
Monica was very willing to help Frank get some money out of Clayton, but unlike Frank's motive, Monica wanted the money so she could take care of the kids.
"They left for the cemetery," Monica replied.
"Then we need to hurry," Frank said, scrambling to get up.
Just as he stood, a wave of dizziness suddenly hit him. Frank's body swayed. "Oh, Jesus. Little dizzy. Wait, let me snort some powder first."
Saying that, Frank pulled the coke from his pocket and started preparing it with incredible proficiency.
Monica watched helplessly. After a brief internal struggle, she couldn't resist the temptation. She instinctively looked back to make sure Fiona and the others weren't there, then hurriedly said to Frank, "Give me a little too."
Frank chuckled. "Of course."
In no time at all. Frank and Monica, one after the other, shook their bodies in euphoria.
"Ms. Gallagher, let's go! Let's go get money from Clayton!" Frank was high now, shouting in high spirits.
Monica immediately screamed back in response, "Mr. Gallagher, I love you so much!"
The two of them shouted like that, clinging to each other as they stumbled their way out.