Chapter 151 – Peggy Returns to the Gallaghers
Fiona turned at the sound of the voice and saw a slightly chubby young woman standing there.
"Yes—we're hiring. Are you looking for work?" Fiona was in a good mood today, smiling as she spoke.
"Yeah. I just wanted to ask—are you hiring temporary workers or long-term staff?" Max asked carefully as she read the requirements on the notice.
"Both," Fiona replied. "If you're interested, you can come inside and we'll talk."
She gestured toward the restaurant.
"Sure." Max smiled.
Fiona led Max inside the shop.
Not long after, an AMG pulled up outside.
Earlier that morning, after instructing Sniqua to find a way to get close to Lip—and eventually get pregnant by a Black man outside the district—William had gone home.
It had been a long time since he'd seen his parents in this world.
Unfortunately, his luck wasn't great.
His father was still at work, leaving only his mother at home. They had a simple lunch together, and William headed out again soon after.
Ding ding.
The bell chimed as William stepped inside.
Fiona was sitting across from Max at a table.
"Alright then—we're planning to open tomorrow morning. Can you make it?" Fiona asked, sounding efficient and businesslike.
She looked every bit like a capable career woman.
William, having seen the original timeline, knew this confidence was more surface-level than substance—but it still looked convincing.
"Yes, I can be here tomorrow morning," Max said happily.
Rent was due soon. If she didn't find work, she'd be sleeping on the street.
William noticed her then.
Isn't that the lead from Two Broke Girls? he thought.
"Hey, William—you're here?" Fiona spotted him immediately, stood up, and ran over to hug him enthusiastically.
At this point, she had already begun to see William as her "the one."
"Yeah. I came to see how things were going. I heard you say you're opening tomorrow?" William said, wrapping an arm around her waist and ruffling her hair.
Then he looked at Max. "And this is…?"
"She's here to apply for a server position. Her name's Max," Fiona said, then paused and added, "And this is the real owner of the restaurant—William."
William pinched Fiona's nose lightly. "Don't listen to her. She's the legal owner and the one in charge. This place has nothing to do with me."
That was not something Fiona should be casually saying.
"Nice to meet you, boss," Max said. She wasn't sure who was telling the truth, but calling everyone 'boss' was always safe.
"Well, I'll head home and get ready. I'll be here tomorrow morning," she added, clearly sensing it was time to leave.
At the same time—
An ambulance stopped in front of 2119 North Wallace Street.
The noise outside caught Debbie's attention.
She went to the window and pulled back the curtain.
An elderly woman was sitting in a wheelchair, snapping at two caregivers. "Hurry up! I have no idea how I even survived the trip here."
The caregivers said nothing, simply wheeling Peggy into the front yard of 2119.
Debbie ran outside. "Are you looking for the Sunshine Adult Care Center? That's up by the church—"
She assumed Peggy had the wrong address.
Peggy stared at her blankly. "Sweetheart, I only go to church when I feel like getting sexually harassed."
With that, she pushed herself up from the wheelchair, grabbed her personal belongings from the caregivers, and stood on her own.
When the two caregivers lingered, Peggy shot them a glare. "What? Waiting for a tip?"
They took the hint.
Without another word, they got back into the ambulance and drove off.
At the front of the house, two people were already sitting there—
Kevin's foster daughter Ethel, and a young Black boy she'd recently met, Malik.
Both of them were holding babies.
Peggy walked up and looked them over. "And who are you two?"
"I'm Ethel. This is Jonah—my son," Ethel replied politely.
Peggy lost interest immediately and turned to Malik. "If you were Liam, this would be much more interesting."
Malik shook his head. "My name's Malik."
"Malik?" Peggy scoffed. "Oh God, stop pretending you're an African spice.
Want some advice?"
"Some people are racist," Peggy said bluntly. "If you want to make something of yourself in this world, change your name first."
She looked Malik up and down.
"Don't let people know you're Black."
The words were ugly—but they weren't untrue.
At least in this era… and honestly, even decades later, right up to the time before William crossed over.
Black people were still treated as expendable material at the bottom of American society.
Only a tiny fraction were allowed into higher-paying professions—and even then, most of those positions were carefully curated.
Just take one look at the skin color of Silicon Valley executives.
Black people weren't invited to that table.
Their paths forward were painfully limited.
Become a street thug.
Join a gang.
Die violently in some alley.
Or rise high enough to become a boss—
only to be crushed by the police and die in prison.
Or live "honestly" as a regular worker, crushed by soaring prices, barely able to feed your own kids.
Or—if you're lucky—have some musical talent. Become a rapper.
And once your wealth grows large enough to be "harvested,"
you mysteriously overdose in your own bedroom.
Malik didn't know how to respond.
But Peggy had already lost interest in him.
"Sweetheart," she said, turning to Debbie, "does the water heater still work?"
"It does," Debbie replied, still confused, but nodding.
"Good. Get me a towel. I'm taking a shower."
That finally gave Debbie an opening. "Uh—sorry, but… who are you?"
Peggy turned back and looked at her.
"I'm your grandmother, baby."
Once inside the house, Peggy headed straight for the bathroom without wasting a second.
She pushed the door open.
Carl was in there, mid-stream.
"You must be Carl," Peggy said, judging by his age.
Carl nodded.
"Go get me a crowbar and a hammer," Peggy ordered.
Carl didn't ask why.
He simply nodded and went to find the tools.
---
Meanwhile, in an upscale apartment on the North Side—
Jimmy—also known as Steve—was stuffing cash into an envelope.
Behind him, a mixed-race beauty wearing nothing but lingerie walked past casually.
Watching Estefania's back, Jimmy swallowed hard, hating himself.
Why the hell had a trip to Brazil turned him impotent?
He genuinely had no idea where he'd picked up something like that.
And the thought only made it worse.