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"WITH EVERYTHING going on, I almost forgot about this," Amara said, closing her car door as Silvia stepped out of the passenger seat. "I can't believe it's been four years."
"Me either," Silvia admitted, holding a bouquet of flowers, and the two of them walked into the graveyard. "She was the only person who ever tried to give a shit. Margot's gone. Joe is too. But she came back."
Amara could still remember the day her grandmother passed. She tried not to shiver as they approached where she was buried. Silvia gently placed the flowers onto the stone, and stepped back. Amara sighed. "She'd probably beat the shit out of Margot for leaving again."
Silvia snorted. "I'd pay so much money to see that. Just like I'd kill to watch her chase Joe out with a spatula."
Amara shook her head, grinning, but as the sisters fell silent, it started to fade. "She lost her memory first too, you know. I think that's my biggest fear. Forgetting everything that ever made me.. me."
Silvia glanced to her sister, shifting on her feet. "Yeah. You think the same is happening with Frank?"
She pursed her lips. "I dunno. Grandma wasn't a drinker like Frank was. The scenarios are different, but either way it's sad. Even if Frank is a raging fucking prick."
"Yeah," Silvia agreed, and then offered Amara a can to drink. "But you know she wouldn't want us moping."
"You're right," Amara said, and she cracked open the lid. "Cheers to you, Gloria Gilbert."
Silvia raised her drink, and in unison, the two of them took a sip. Amara spit it out the moment the liquid touched her throat. "Amara," she laughed. "What the hell?"
"Bleh. What the fuck is this?!"
Silvia was grinning. "It's a Whiteclaw."
Amara gagged.
By the time Amara reached the Gallagher house later that morning to drop Silvia off, there was already an argument happening inside. Lip and Debbie were yelling, and Liam brushed past Amara with a scowl. "This is why I haven't pooped in three days!"
"Amara!" Debbie yelled. "Talk some sense into your mentally unstable boyfriend!"
Amara held her hands up defensively, and took Fred from Ian's grasp as Silvia stepped inside. She eyed Lip, then glanced to Debbie. Lip had on a dark grey shirt that clung to his biceps and Amara doubted that even if she wanted to talk sense into him, she wouldn't get very far. "Eh, no. I'm good."
"Look, Debbie, we're selling the house. End of fucking discussion."
"Fuck you, Lip."
Lip was saved from answering by a knock on the door. "It's open!"
Brad peaked his head through. With how Amara's morning had started, it'd almost slipped her mind that Lip told her Brad nearly turned himself in the previous night. And now, Born Free wanted Brad to come in for some paperwork or something of the sorts. "Hey. You ready?"
