Chapter 237 – Acknowledgement
The issue of his eldest daughter, Sammi, left Frank feeling conflicted.
Although Sammi was his daughter, he also had to consider how Fiona and the rest of his kids would feel.
It was like being a divorced parent with custody—if you wanted to remarry, you'd have to think about how your kids might react to a stepmother.
Or if you were planning to have another child, you'd have to think about how the eldest would take it.
But in Frank's case, he wasn't planning for a second kid. Or even a seventh.
What he had was an older daughter suddenly dropping into the picture from thin air—complete with a chubby little son of her own.
On the way back to Chicago, Frank had already been mulling over how to handle the situation.
He had no idea what to do or how to face Sammi. It felt like a mess.
If Sammi had been living well, Frank wouldn't have worried so much.
But seeing her now, living in a run-down camper van, Frank knew he couldn't just turn a blind eye.
Still, bringing Sammi home might stir up resistance—especially from Fiona.
So, Frank decided to test the waters. He spoke with Fiona to get a sense of her reaction. As long as she didn't object too strongly, the others would be easier to deal with.
Fortunately, Fiona didn't oppose the idea.
She was willing to meet this older sister who had appeared out of nowhere. Said she wouldn't mind getting to know her if the opportunity came.
With Fiona's answer, the weight on Frank's heart lightened slightly. He finally breathed a little easier.
---
The next morning, Frank drove alone to Sammi's place.
He arrived just in time to see Sammi and her son leaving the RV.
She looked like she was heading to work, while the little chubby boy sat alone on a park bench, snacking and watching others play basketball.
Sammi worked at a nearby shop—close enough that she could keep an eye on her son through the window.
Frank didn't approach her. Instead, he went to the kid and sat beside him.
"Hey."
The boy looked up. "It's you."
"You gave that envelope to your mom?" Frank asked.
The boy nodded, still watching the basketball game.
"Then why is she still working?" Frank asked, puzzled.
He had left $20,000 for Sammi—that was no small sum.
For comparison, when buying Kevin's Bar, Frank had thrown in $50,000 and practically owned the place.
And the house Frank lived in could be sold for, at most, $40,000–$50,000.
So $20,000 was like half a house.
With that kind of money, Sammi could've rented a decent place, maybe even started a small business.
There was no reason for her to still be living in that broken-down camper, working a dead-end job.
The boy shook his head. He didn't know.
"Mind if I have some?" Frank pointed at the boy's chips.
The kid hesitated… then held out the bag. "Here."
"Thanks," Frank said, taking one.
"My mom asked me yesterday who you were," the kid said suddenly.
"I'm your grandfather—wait, no, your maternal grandfather," Frank replied.
Western families don't usually distinguish between the two as clearly as Eastern ones.
In many Asian cultures, extended family ties are extensive and deep—uncles, aunts, cousins, etc., are often close and involved.
In contrast, Western cultures tend to have thinner family connections. Sometimes people feel closer to friends than to siblings or parents.
Even English reflects this difference.
For example, there's no separate word for "older sister" or "younger sister"—just "sister." Same for "brother."
Even "grandfather" and "maternal grandfather" are usually the same word unless clarified.
"What's a maternal grandfather?" the kid asked, confused by the unfamiliar term.
"Just call me Grandpa, okay?" Frank said, patting his head—only to realize his hand came back greasy.
Clearly, this boy hadn't washed his hair in a while.
"Oh," the boy mumbled. Frank's touch made him itch, and he scratched his head with a chip-covered hand—then stuck that same hand right back into the bag.
Frank's eyebrow twitched. This kid's hygiene needs some serious work.
---
While Frank was chatting with the kid, Sammi—working inside the store—looked out the window, as she often did to check on her son.
But this time, she froze.
There was a strange man sitting next to her boy.
Alarmed, Sammi bolted out of the shop.
"HEY! Get away from my son!" she yelled across the park.
Even in the so-called land of freedom and liberty, child kidnappers were still a thing.
To her, Frank looked exactly like one.
But when she ran up, she noticed something strange—Frank didn't flee. He sat there calmly, unfazed.
"Sweetie, are you okay?" she asked as she hugged her son, then turned to Frank.
"Who are you?"
"He said he's called 'Grandpa,'" the boy chimed in.
"Grandpa?" Sammi blinked in confusion.
The boy didn't understand the term and thought "Grandpa" was the guy's name.
But Sammi knew exactly what it meant.
"You… you're…" she stammered.
"Sorry it took me so long to find you," Frank said, rising to his feet. "I'm your old man."
"You're my dad? I'm your daughter?" Sammi was still trying to process it.
"Oh right—the money from yesterday… You're the one who sent that?" she suddenly remembered the $20,000.
"Yeah. I came by yesterday to see you… but I got cold feet," Frank admitted.
"I… I'm just shocked. I've spent my whole life wondering what kind of person my father was. Always wishing to meet him… and then you just show up like this."
Sammi's voice trembled. She was at a loss for words.
Just then, the store door slammed open. A coworker stuck his head out and yelled:
"Sammi! What the hell are you doing?! Get back in here! I'm not paying you to take a break!"
"F*** off! I quit!" Sammi snapped, flipping the bird.
Frank chuckled. "This isn't really the place to talk. It's nearly lunchtime—how about we go grab something to eat and talk it through?"
"What do you two want to eat?"
---