He babbles and babbles; Fiona doesn't react until he brings up her mother, but he can't hear her. "Four-month-old baby. Fourteen-year-old girl, just had her appendix out. Eleven-year-old Lip, ten-year-old Ian, a seven-year-old, a five-year-old, and... Oh, and a Dodge Astro van! Calypso... Yes, Calypso Blue. What's the one thing that we needed?"
Fiona's face lights up a way it has not in a very, very long time.
Frank never makes it back to his point. "What could I do, Steve?" He went on a three-week bender, creating the life for Fiona that she lives today. Little known fact: It only takes a week to create a new habit. "I had a nervous breakdown..." He dances, the room whirls, he shouts. She loves him. She hates him.
There's a knock on the door, and she apologizes for her father, but of course Steve likes him. They're both on the make.
What happens next doesn't matter. Kev and Veronica come over and change the Cream to rap-rock and then everybody dances and it's revoltingly uncool. Like one hundred thousand fathers playing air guitar. Like watching your mom at pole-dancing class. I'm talking air guitar to Weezer.
In bed, as the world wakes up, Steve grins. "Your dad made me follow you up. He gave me a condom." She laughs at him. "He must really like you. He usually just gives my boyfriends a dental dam." He holds her hand, tightly, and they look into each other's eyes. "Don't the kids wake up?" he asks, about the knees up down the wooden hill last night. "Would you?" Little Liam's somewhere in the foot of the bed, tangled in blankets; he waves them a good morning.
Carl's in the boys' bedroom, with a whole city of characters Sharpied on his chest and stomach. Lip can't find Ian; he's still got work to do. Ian's still not happy. He's scared, about Kash and about everything, scared Lip is right; feels more alone than ever. Making sure Carl doesn't see, Lip sneaks the porn out from under his bed, heading out to the van in the yard, where he knows Ian must be, smoking and listening to music. How can you be the good one if you're doing bad things? How can you know for sure that something is okay, when it's connected to so much that he knows isn't? When Lip gets in he takes out his earphones; he knows it's coming; when Lip pulls out the porn he shakes his head.
"How can that be good for you?" Lip chuckles, pointing to one act. "Or, or, or or or that? How can that be good for you?" Ian snatches them away, tired of fighting; thinking this is a fight.