Chapter 243: The Two Little Ones
Lip's ice cream truck always brought in a good profit every summer.
Originally, Kevin had to juggle running the bar and couldn't join Lip in managing the ice cream business.
But things changed when Frank assigned Anfisa to the bar. In less than two days, she had completely taken control of everything—handling it even better than Kevin did.
All the troublesome stuff—bookkeeping, taxes, revenue management—Anfisa handled it all.
With that, Kevin basically returned to his old role—just a bartender. No more worrying or stressing about other responsibilities.
Now that Anfisa and the other bartenders had the bar under control, Kevin no longer needed to be there all the time.
He could finally partner up with Lip on the ice cream truck, earning a little extra. After all, poor folks had to hustle however they could to survive.
"Ian, wait a sec—we're hitting the supermarket together. We're almost sold out on the truck, need to restock," Lip called as Ian was heading out for work.
"And next time we stock up, ask Linda to order more Rocket Soda—it's selling like crazy," Lip added.
Meanwhile, Debbie rushed home without saying a word, threw her arms around Frank, and buried her face in his chest.
"Hey, my little angel—what's wrong?" Frank asked.
"Dad, do dead people poop?" Debbie looked up and asked seriously.
"…Why would you ask that?" Frank asked, clearly puzzled.
"Because after Harry died… he still pooped," Debbie replied.
"Who's Harry?" Frank asked.
"Aunt Ginger's boyfriend," she explained.
Debbie had been visiting Aunt Ginger at the nursing home often and had gotten to know a lot of the elderly there.
Today, one of them passed away. It left a deep impact on her young mind—especially since it was someone she had grown close to.
"Harry's the first dead person I've ever seen. Dad, did you know there are over two hundred ways to describe death?
Like 'laid to rest,' 'passed on,' or 'joined the great beyond'…" Debbie said.
"Those phrases aren't exactly age-appropriate for you," Frank interrupted.
As Frank tried to comfort Debbie, Carl was up to something again.
CLANG CLANG CLANG
Carl came tumbling down the stairs from the second floor with a loud crash.
"Carl! Are you okay?" Frank rushed over, scooping him up to check for injuries.
"I'm fine, Dad. Hit me in the head with this baseball bat!" Carl shouted, hopping up and slapping a football helmet onto his head, then handed Frank a bat.
"Huh? What are you doing?" Frank asked, completely baffled.
"C'mon, Dad, do it!" Carl insisted.
"Stop being ridiculous." Frank snatched the bat away and set it aside, ushering Carl off to play something more normal.
Later, when Frank went to the kitchen for a drink, Carl snuck off and swiped the bat.
"Hey!" Carl found his gaming-obsessed chubby nephew, Chuckie, mashing buttons on a controller.
"Uncle Carl!" Chuckie called out cheerfully.
"Smack me with this bat," Carl said, handing him the baseball bat.
"Okay!" Chuckie, without hesitation, swung it at Carl's helmeted head.
The helmet offered decent protection—Carl wasn't hurt—but the impact still dazed him a little.
"That felt awesome," Carl mumbled from the floor, dizzy but grinning, clearly enjoying the lightheaded feeling.
"Chuckie! What the hell are you doing?" Frank, realizing the bat was missing and hearing a loud thud from upstairs, came running up and yanked the bat from Chuckie's hands.
"Uncle Carl told me to do it!" Chuckie explained.
Frank sighed deeply and picked Carl up again, totally exasperated.
He really couldn't understand what went through the minds of ten-year-olds all day long.
As he passed by Debbie's room, loud heavy metal music blasted from inside. Sounded like death metal.
"Debbie! Turn it down!" Frank yelled. The music dropped to a lower volume.
The older kids caused enough headaches—but these two little ones weren't making life any easier either.
After all the chaos, Frank collapsed onto the couch, physically and mentally drained—more so than even his all-night battles with Mrs. Candace.
"Liam should be waking up soon," he thought.
Frank went to check on Liam and found Debbie standing beside the crib, holding up a mirror to the baby's face.
"Debbie, what are you doing?" Frank asked, puzzled.
"Nothing—I just wanted to see if Liam was still alive. He's breathing, so he's fine," she said, watching the mist form on the mirror from Liam's breath and sighing in relief.
She turned to leave.
"Wait," Frank called after her.
There was clearly something wrong. Debbie had been acting strange ever since witnessing Harry's death.
It had sparked an intense curiosity—and concern—about death. Teenagers often get caught up in odd fixations, and this was one of those moments where a parent really had to step in.
"Debbie, why are you so interested in death lately?" Frank asked gently.
"I'm not…" she replied, a bit too quickly.
"It's okay. Whatever you're thinking, you can talk to me," Frank said, sitting with her on a mat scattered with stuffed animals.
"I just… Before Harry, I didn't realize that people I know could actually die," she said after a pause.
"Sweetheart, he was just very old," Frank replied.
"But if old people die, that means everyone dies. You, Fiona, Lip, Ian, Liam… even me," she said.
"Of course, everyone dies eventually—but that's something decades away," Frank said, stroking her hair.
"But what if I'm the last one left? All alone…" Debbie said. "I looked it up—statistically, women outlive men.
You'll die, Fiona's older than me, she'll die too. Everyone will."
"Debbie, you won't be alone," Frank said, holding her in his arms. "All of that is still a long, long way off.
There's so much life ahead—so many people to meet, so many things to do. You don't have to be afraid of death."
"But I can't stop thinking about it. The thoughts just keep coming, and I can't make them go away," she admitted.
"Then think about something else—something good. Like ice cream, chocolate, flowers… a kitten.
Literally anything is more interesting than death," Frank said.
"…Dad, will you die?" Debbie looked up at him.
"Everyone does," he said, gently brushing her hair again.
(End of Chapter)
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