Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Gallagher house had settled into an unusual calm, a rare instance of tranquility that felt both comforting and disconcerting. As I stood in the kitchen, scrubbing away at the dishes and lost in my thoughts, the weight of the recent events bore down on me. The revelation of Karen's pregnancy gnawed at my mind, while the lingering echo of Lip's confession about his feelings for me added an extra layer of complexity to the turmoil within. A knock on the door acted as an abrupt interruption, pulling me from my contemplation.
"Carl!" My voice carried through the house, a mix of annoyance and urgency, "Could you see who that is? I've got my hands full here with these dishes!" Within moments, Carl came bounding down the stairs, ready to address the visitor.
"No money upfront, no rough stuff," Carl's voice held a blend of street smarts and cautious skepticism as he interacted with the unexpected guest. I let out a resigned sigh and made my way over, noting the peculiar situation. It seemed that Carl had taken it upon himself to rent out Frank's room to a prostitute in order to contribute to the family's squirrel fund. As I approached, it became clear that the visitor was a man in an army uniform, clutching a manila envelope.
Attempting to navigate the situation, I spoke up, "I apologize for that... Are you here to see Bev or perhaps someone else?" My curiosity got the better of me as I tried to make sense of the encounter.
The soldier cleared his throat, a hint of nervousness apparent, "Actually, I'm here to see your brother." It didn't take long for me to piece together that he was referring to Ian.
"Right, right... Just a moment," I turned and called up the stairs, "Ian! Someone from the army is looking for you!" Soon enough, Ian came hurrying down the staircase, and I stepped aside to give him room to engage with the visitor. Ian stood at attention and instinctively saluted him.
"Exemplary salute," The officer's voice carried a note of approval, his gaze fixed on Ian's actions.
With confidence befitting a future West Point applicant, Ian introduced himself, "Cadet Colonel Gallagher, Junior ROTC." It was no secret that Ian had aspirations of attending West Point, and his diligent preparation and dedication to all things military were evident.
"Colonel McNally, Department of Defense," The officer's response held a sense of formality as he observed Ian closely, "You're Phillip's brother?"
Ian's nod confirmed the connection, "Yes, Ian. He mentioned you were showing interest, but he didn't mention a personal visit.
The confidence that radiated from Ian was unmistakable, a testament to his own conviction. "I hope that's alright," McNally said.
"Yes, sir," Ian took notice of McNally's uniform, "Silver star... Iraq?"
"Afghanistan."
"Ah..."
"Listen, this is a West Point application, I wanted to deliver it personally."
