Chapter 238: The Optimistic Eldest Daughter
"So, you're really my dad?"
Seated at a modest diner, Sammi kept her eyes locked on Frank even after they'd ordered. She still couldn't quite believe it.
"Yeah," Frank nodded. "At first, I wasn't sure either. But the moment I saw you, I just knew—you're definitely my daughter."
Sammi didn't doubt his words or suspect he was making up some story to scam her.
After all, she and her son were dirt poor—barely a step above homelessness. What could Frank possibly be after?
Besides, he'd left them twenty grand yesterday. Even if he sold them off, they wouldn't fetch that much.
"Sweetie, call him Grandpa. He's Mommy's daddy," Sammi nudged her chubby little son.
"Grandpa," the boy mumbled before returning to his food.
"What about the kid's father?" Frank asked, watching the exchange between them.
"Don't mention that piece of crap. We divorced a long time ago. Every guy I've ever met has been trash." Sammi shrugged.
Through their conversation, Frank learned a bit more about Sammi's background.
She'd been married at least five or six times, always to the wrong kind of man. Her life had been one hardship after another.
But as she recounted those tough times, she laughed—none of it seemed to dampen her mood or her appetite.
"I get divorced so often, the clerk at the office knows me by name. The last time I filed, she looked at me and said, 'You again?' You should've seen her face. Hahaha."
"This place has good food, though. A bit pricey," Sammi added, popping a bite of steak into her mouth.
Frank had brought them to an ordinary restaurant—nothing fancy. But for someone like Sammi, who raised a child on her own while scraping by with part-time jobs, even this was a luxury.
In America, fast food is cheap and filling—burgers and fries designed for volume and calories, not taste. It's the go-to for people struggling to get by.
That's why her son had gotten so chubby—fast food, and nothing but.
Normal sit-down restaurants like this? Rare for them.
"You're incredibly optimistic," Frank remarked.
Anyone else who'd lived through what Sammi had might've turned bitter or ended up addicted to something—blaming the world, drowning themselves in denial.
"I'd rather get knocked down and keep getting back up than turn into some walking corpse," Sammi smiled.
"You've had a rough life," Frank sighed.
"It wasn't all bad," she said. "But I always wanted to meet you."
"I lost sleep for years—year after year—wondering where you were, what kind of person you were, if you ever thought of me…"
Every abandoned or fatherless child thinks like that at some point.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know back then. But I've found you now, and I won't let you suffer anymore," Frank said softly.
"Let's not dwell on the past," Sammi wiped her eyes with a smile. "Tell me about yourself. I still don't even know your name."
"Frank. Frank Gallagher. Just a regular middle-aged guy."
"So… are you rich?" Sammi asked.
Twenty thousand dollars was a huge sum to her. She kept it on her at all times—really on her. No way an average person could throw that kind of cash around.
"No. I've been living down in the South Side. I've got other kids, too," Frank explained.
"Oh wow, so I've got a bunch of siblings—plus honorary sons and daughters? Sounds like a big ol' family." Sammi laughed.
"Yeah, a big one," Frank chuckled. "Though including you, only three of you are adults."
Sammi's bright, enthusiastic energy rubbed off on Frank. Her warmth helped ease the nervousness he hadn't realized he was carrying.
"Do they… know about me?" Sammi asked.
"I told them yesterday. No one freaked out," Frank assured her.
Sammi looked relieved. They talked for a long time, mostly sharing about themselves, trying to bridge the gap between strangers who happened to be father and daughter.
Eventually, they left the restaurant, walking back to the RV rather than driving.
"Sweetie, go inside," Sammi told her son once they reached the vehicle.
"Thanks for today," she said once it was just her and Frank.
"I've spent my whole life looking for someone like a real father," she said quietly. "There was the old guy who ran a pawn shop and tried to seduce me… and the herpes-ridden bassist I met in Manila…"
Psychologically speaking, kids who grow up without parents often develop unconscious father- or mother-complexes. They seek relationships with older partners—trying to fill the emotional void their parents left.
"But now I've found you. And you didn't disappoint me. You're a good dad. Thank you for coming to find me," Sammi choked out, hugging Frank tightly.
"It's okay. I found you—that's what matters," Frank patted her back.
"Sorry, I really hate crying," Sammi said, stepping back and wiping her eyes with a turn of her head.
"Spend the money I gave you. Don't keep living in a dump like this. Sell that wreck of a van if you have to. If you need help finding a place, I'll take care of it," Frank said, glancing at the battered RV.
"Alright. Whatever you say," Sammi nodded.
They chatted a bit longer outside before finally parting ways.
After saying goodbye, Frank drove off—but not back home.
He wasn't worried about Sammi anymore. But there was still one more child he needed to talk to.
Frank parked outside a small corner store, sitting in the car and watching Ian through the window.
He hesitated for a moment, then finally got out and went inside.
"What are you doing here?" Ian, hearing the door, turned instinctively. Seeing Frank, he froze.
"Just passing by. Thought I'd drop in. Uh… what time do you get off?" Frank asked.
"Half an hour…" Ian glanced at the clock.
"What about Kash?" Frank looked around but didn't see him.
Kash, the store owner—married, with kids—was also Ian's boyfriend. The same guy Frank had punched, leading to the rift between him and Ian.
"He's gone," Ian said.
"Gone?" Frank blinked in surprise.
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