Chapter 232: Shopping
Summer is the season of queues. The sweltering heat makes people dress lighter and feel more impulsive—perfect conditions for booming nightlife. Places like bars and clubs are especially packed, and staff are always in short supply.
Fiona and Veronica often picked up bar shifts during this time. They earned good tips every night and enjoyed free drinks—though it came with the downside of frequent groping hands.
Bar owners loved hiring young and pretty girls like Fiona and Veronica. After all, it was girls like them that drew in the male clientele.
However, Fiona had taken time off from her bar job recently due to home renovations.
On moving day, Veronica came over to help and witnessed the tension between Fiona and Frank. Seizing the moment, she suggested that Fiona join her at a party that evening.
"But what about the house?" Fiona hesitated.
"Frank and Lip are still here, right? Nothing's going to happen. You've been overseeing the renovations all this time—you deserve a break," Veronica coaxed.
"Yeah, we've got this," Lip, Ian, and the others chimed in.
During the move, everyone had sided with Frank in his clashes with Fiona. Who wouldn't want to toss out the old junk and replace it all with brand new things? But Fiona had been stubborn—she wouldn't allow this to be thrown out or that to be touched.
She had always run the household and earned a sort of quiet authority over the years. The kids rarely challenged her. So now that they had a chance to get her out of the way, they jumped at it.
Fiona, of course, knew exactly what they were up to. But in the end, she gave in. It had been a long time since she'd truly rested.
Early the next morning, Veronica picked her up, leaving Frank in charge of the move.
"Throw it all out. Everything!"
"This old couch is older than you—why keep it? Toss it. We'll buy a new one."
"Debbie, you've grown. That bed's too small—you can't even stretch your legs. Let's break it down and get you a new one."
With Fiona gone, Frank went all-in. He tossed out anything he could, clearing more than half the house.
Thanks to his no-nonsense approach, the move wrapped up in just a morning.
That afternoon, Frank took the kids on a massive shopping spree. From kitchenware to furniture, from clothes to shoes—he bought it all.
"From now on, you boys wear your own clothes," Frank declared. "I'll install a closet in each of your rooms."
In the past, they had to pass down clothes from sibling to sibling. Especially Lip, Ian, and Carl—Ian always wore Lip's hand-me-downs, and Carl wore Ian's. The worst off was Liam. If nothing changed, he'd eventually end up wearing fourth-hand clothes.
"Debbie's finishing elementary school soon. When the new semester starts, she'll be in middle school. She needs to look beautiful and confident." Frank ruffled her hair with a smile.
Debbie and Carl were both in a growth spurt. Just in the last six months, Debbie had shot up by a whole head.
"I want to buy this one!" Debbie said excitedly, holding up a revealing outfit.
"No way—that kind of outfit's not for someone your age," Frank said, firmly pushing her hand down.
As they shopped for clothes, Frank suddenly realized Debbie was veering off course. She kept picking out flashy, overly sexy clothes that were completely inappropriate for her age.
Frank thought of those girls at her school—the ones who were still students yet already pushing baby strollers. Alarm bells went off in his head.
Debbie was entering puberty, a phase full of hormonal surges. It was a fragile and dangerous time, especially in the rough environment of the South Side, where kids were easily influenced by what they saw around them.
"I want that one!" Carl suddenly shouted, his eyes lighting up as he pointed at a store selling knives and daggers.
"No!" Frank shut him down instantly.
Carl's issues were no less serious than Debbie's.
The South Side was a slum, full of poverty. But everything here was dirt cheap. Even after buying so many things, they had spent less than a few thousand dollars.
When Fiona returned home after dark, she froze in shock at the mountain of new stuff.
"What the f***…"
"Fiona! You're back!" Debbie ran over excitedly. "Look! Dad bought you a new outfit!"
Fiona was dragged away by Debbie to try it on, eyeing the pile of goods with a pang of financial anxiety.
"How much money did you spend on all this…"
But it was too late to return anything. The kids were thrilled, and there was no way they'd give anything up. Fiona could only sigh and accept it all.
"I picked out this dress. Isn't it pretty?" Debbie beamed proudly as Fiona came out in her new outfit.
"It is. You have good taste, Debbie," Fiona smiled.
But Frank, watching quietly from the side, noticed something—Fiona's smile seemed forced, her gaze distant. Something was clearly bothering her.
The kids were all too hyped about the new house and new stuff to notice. After dinner, they went off to do their own things, leaving Fiona sitting alone on the back steps, staring up at the moon.
"Something happen at the party?" Frank walked over with two beers and sat beside her, handing her one.
"I saw Jimmy… and his wife," Fiona said quietly.
She didn't go into detail, but it was obvious the encounter had not been pleasant.
Fiona had already learned the truth about Jimmy and had clearly broken things off. But seeing her like this, it was clear her heart hadn't fully let go.
"F***… I don't even know what I'm doing anymore," she muttered after taking a long drink.
"Feelings… they're not something we can control," Frank said calmly.
"Why couldn't he just stay in Costa Rica… or Brazil, or anywhere else? He's married! Why did he come back? Why did he come back to find me…" Her voice cracked, and her eyes welled up, though she fought hard to keep the tears from falling.
"That jerk's not worth it. My beautiful daughter will one day meet someone who treasures her like a gem," Frank said, putting an arm around her.
"You'll get married. There'll be a grand wedding. You'll walk down the red carpet in a white gown, with Debbie and Carl in front scattering rose petals. And I'll walk you down the aisle and hand you over to that man… but not without threatening him—if he ever hurts you, I'll bust his balls."
Frank smiled softly, like he was spinning a bedtime story.
"Thanks, Dad…" Fiona said quietly, wiping away her tears.
"No need to thank me, sweetheart," Frank said, holding her close, his own eyes lost in some distant thought.