A few days after the proposal, Mandy told Lip they were going to the Gallagher house.

She didn’t explain it like it was a discussion either. She said it while standing in front of the mirror in their bedroom, turning her hand just enough for the ring to catch the light again, and Lip already knew exactly what the real reason was.

She wanted them all to see it.

He didn’t say that out loud. He just grabbed his keys from the dresser and followed her downstairs.

By the time they reached the house, they could hear it before the door even opened.

The television was too loud.

Someone was arguing in the kitchen.

Another voice was yelling back from the living room.

A cabinet slammed.

Normal.

Mandy pushed the door open first, and the second they stepped inside the room shifted.

Fiona was the first to notice.

She was standing by the kitchen table with a mug in one hand and a stack of mail in the other, but her eyes dropped straight to Mandy’s left hand and stayed there.

“Hold on.”

She crossed the room before Mandy could say anything, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her hand closer to the light.

For a second Fiona just stared.

Then she looked up at Lip.

“No way.”

Mandy smiled, pleased with herself in that quiet way she got when something landed exactly how she wanted it to.

“Yeah.”

Fiona looked between them again, still holding Mandy’s hand. “You proposed?”

Lip nodded once. “Yeah.”

That was enough to wake up the rest of the room.

From the couch, Carl sat up so fast he nearly dropped the remote. “Wait, seriously?”

Ian, leaning against the counter near the fridge, looked over properly now. His eyes went from Mandy’s face to the ring and then to Lip like he was fitting the whole thing together in real time.

“You two are actually doing it?”

“That’s the plan,” Mandy said.

Ian’s mouth twitched. “About time.”

Mandy shot Lip a quick look. “Took him long enough.”

Lip ignored that, mostly because everybody in the room would’ve agreed with her.

The front door opened again before anyone could say more.

Mickey walked in, jacket half zipped, already looking like he was bracing for whatever nonsense he had stepped into. He stopped when he saw all of them facing the same direction.

“…What.”

Ian pointed at Mandy’s hand.

“They’re getting married.”

Mickey looked at the ring first.

Then at Lip.

Then back at the ring.

For a second his face didn’t change much at all.

Then he gave one short nod. “Good.”

It was so direct that Mandy laughed.

A second later Mickey’s eyes drifted toward the front window, where the black BMW sat outside at the curb.

He looked back at Mandy.

“That yours?”

She folded her arms and grinned. “Yeah.”

Mickey stared at her, then at Lip again. “Jesus Christ.”

Lip shrugged. “It happened fast.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Carl was still staring, but not at the ring anymore.

His attention kept moving between Lip’s chest and Mandy’s hoodie and then back again like something else had just clicked in his head. Finally he pointed.

“Hold on.”

Lip looked over. “What.”

Carl pointed more directly now. “That.”

Lip glanced down.

He was wearing one of the hoodies from the line, black with the stitched logo near the chest. Mandy had one on too, a lighter one, same branding, same small symbol.

Carl frowned. “I’ve seen that before.”

Ian pushed off the counter slightly. “Yeah.”

He looked at Mandy’s hoodie too. “That logo.”

Fiona’s eyes narrowed a little. “I know I’ve seen people wearing that.”

Carl looked from the stitching to Lip again, and then to the bigger lettering across the folded piece of clothing draped over the chair near the stairs.

His face changed.

“Wait.”

He pointed again, slower this time, like he needed everyone else to catch up too.

“That says Gallagher.”

Lip nodded. “Yeah.”

Carl blinked once.

“Like our name.”

“Exactly.”

For a second the room went quiet in a way Gallagher rooms almost never did.

Then Ian started laughing.

Not loudly. Just that disbelieving kind of laugh people got when something suddenly made sense and looked ridiculous at the same time.

“Hold on,” he said, pointing at Lip now. “You’re telling me all those people walking around in that stuff are wearing our last name?”

Carl was still staring. “That’s insane.”

Lip leaned against the doorway into the kitchen. “Pretty much.”

Fiona looked down at Mandy’s hoodie again, really looking at it now. The stitched logo. The clean cut. The name. Then back at Lip.

“You turned Gallagher into a clothing brand.”

Mandy slipped her hand into Lip’s. “And people keep buying it.”

Mickey looked amused in spite of himself, which on him was close to praise. “Not gonna lie. That’s actually kind of good.”

Ian nodded. “Yeah, I like it.”

Carl leaned back against the couch, shaking his head. “That’s still crazy.”

It was.

Lip had gotten used to it too slowly to really feel the absurdity anymore, but hearing them say it out loud pulled it back into focus for a second. Their name. On hoodies. On shirts. On people all over the city who had no idea it belonged to one of the loudest, messiest families on the South Side.

Fiona finally let go of Mandy’s wrist, though not before glancing at the ring one more time.

“So,” she said, looking at Lip now, “you propose, buy her a car, and turn our last name into a business. Anything else I should know?”

Lip thought about it for a second. “Probably.”

That got a laugh out of Ian and a look from Fiona that landed somewhere between affection and disbelief.

The house stayed loud around them after that.

Carl started asking how much the car cost until Fiona told him to shut up.

Ian asked if Mandy was going to make him pay full price for a hoodie now that they were family.

Mandy told him yes without hesitation.

Debbie came in halfway through the conversation, saw the ring, screamed, and immediately wanted every detail in order.

Lip let most of it happen around him.

That part, more than the ring itself, made the whole thing settle in a little deeper. Not the proposal. Not the BMW sitting outside. Just the way it was already being absorbed into the family like it had always been headed there anyway.

A little later, when the argument inside drifted into something about whose turn it was to get food and Fiona started threatening everybody at once, Mandy stepped out onto the porch with Mickey to breathe for a minute.

Lip followed after another second.

The evening air was cooler now. The porch railing still leaned slightly to one side. Somewhere down the block a dog barked once and then stopped. Inside, voices still bled through the screen door, but softer.

Mickey leaned against the railing with both forearms and looked out at the street.

“So,” he said without looking at either of them, “the business is doing good.”

Mandy laughed under her breath. “That’s putting it mildly.”

Mickey glanced over. “How good.”

Lip came to stand beside them. “Good enough.”

Mandy looked at him. “That answer tells him nothing.”

“It’s enough for now.”

Mickey pushed off the railing and faced him properly. “You came out here to say something.”

Lip didn’t bother pretending otherwise.

“Yeah.”

Mandy looked between them once, then went still.

Lip rested one hand on the porch rail and said, “I’ve been sending Fiona money every month.”

Mickey waited.

Lip went on. “I figured I should do the same for your family.”

That got a reaction.

Not a huge one. Mickey didn’t really do huge reactions unless somebody was bleeding or embarrassing themselves. But one eyebrow went up and stayed there.

“For Terry?”

Mandy cut in before Lip could even answer.

“Absolutely not.”

Both of them looked at her.

She folded her arms. “If money’s going to anybody, it goes to Mickey. Not Terry.”

Lip nodded once. “That was the plan.”

Mickey studied him for a second longer.

“…Why.”

Lip shrugged. “Because you’re family.”

That sat there for a second.

Mickey looked away first, out toward the street again, jaw tightening slightly in the way it did when something landed harder than he wanted to show.

Then he said, “How much.”

“Five a month.”

Mickey looked back at him.

“Five thousand?”

“Yeah.”

Mandy leaned against the porch post and watched the whole exchange without interrupting again. She didn’t need to.

Mickey gave a small shake of his head, almost to himself. “And you’re just giving it.”

“It keeps things stable.”

There were a hundred other explanations Lip could have given if he wanted to. That the business made enough now. That five thousand didn’t hit the way it once would have. That he knew too well what happened to families like theirs when every month started from zero and every emergency felt like the beginning of the end.

But he didn’t say any of that.

Mickey understood enough already.

After a moment, he nodded. “Alright.”

Then his mouth curved, just slightly. “Guess marrying my sister worked out for you.”

That got a laugh out of Mandy before Lip could answer.

“Yeah,” Lip said. “Seems that way.”

Nothing more was made of it after that, which was probably why it landed as cleanly as it did.

Over the next few months, the business kept growing.

Not in one huge jump. Just the way it always had—steady, constant, impossible to ignore if you looked at the numbers for more than a minute.

Orders climbed higher.

More staff got hired.

Inventory took up more and more room.

The first warehouse, which once felt too large to ever fill properly, started looking cramped.

Lip knew it before he said it.

Mandy knew it before he did.

One afternoon she came up beside him while he was standing near the back storage rows, looking down the line of stacked inventory boxes and half-finished outbound pallets.

“You’re thinking it.”

He didn’t bother pretending otherwise. “Yeah.”

“Second warehouse.”

“Exactly.”

She smiled. “I’ve already been looking.”

He turned and looked at her. “Of course you have.”

“You’re slow.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is when I’ve already got listings saved.”

That was how it went.

Three months later, the second warehouse opened.

It sat closer to the city’s main distribution routes, which cut down on transit time and made incoming shipments cleaner. Bigger building. More loading docks. Higher ceilings. Better office space. More room for the next version of everything.

Staff got split between both locations.

Then more people got hired to fill in the gaps.

The operation grew without them needing to touch every piece of it personally anymore.

And around Chicago, more people kept wearing the logo.

The same symbol on hoodies, shirts, jackets, caps.

The same name stitched across pieces moving through neighborhoods that had no idea where it started.

GALLAGHER.

By then it didn’t feel strange anymore.

It just felt normal.