Chapter 234: The Real Eldest Daughter
"You don't need me to tell you what kind of place the South Side is."
"In an environment like that, Fiona still grew up to be a beautiful young woman. But she never sold herself. She never relied on any rich man. She never took money from men or anything like that."
"She could've made quick money easily—but she didn't. Instead, she worked multiple jobs, sometimes up to eight a day, just to keep the family afloat."
"Fiona is a girl who takes things seriously. She's proud. She's strong."
"But in life… she tends to run away. She avoids things—avoids possibilities and choices. Sometimes, she just muddles through, doing the bare minimum to get by."
"She's used to carrying everything alone. As long as she thinks sacrificing a part of herself will fix a problem, she'll do it—whether it benefits others or not."
"Because… that's how she was raised. She's not used to being cherished. She has no expectations from men. She's been let down too many times."
"She's had plenty of men in her life—but none of them left a mark. None except you, Steve Jimmy. Only you reached her heart," Frank said, pointing at Jimmy's chest.
As Frank spoke, a waitress approached with two plates and placed them in front of them.
Each plate had two eggs, bacon, and a soft bread roll.
Then, she topped off their coffees.
"Thanks," Frank said politely.
"Try it. The food's not bad here," Frank added as he picked up his utensils and took a bite of egg and bacon.
Jimmy, however, didn't seem to have much of an appetite. He just quietly sipped his coffee.
"I asked you out today because I wanted to talk. I know you care about Fiona too," Frank said, poking Jimmy's chest with his fork.
"Honestly, I've always hated you. A smooth-talking pretty boy, a rich kid playing rebel—you're not from our world."
"Guys like you date girls like Fiona just for fun. And when the novelty wears off, you toss them aside."
"That's why I hated you. I'd have preferred Fiona with someone like Officer Tony. At least he's from our world. We're just regular folks, scraping by at the bottom."
"Not someone who can go to an Ivy League school on a whim, drop out just because he feels like it, and steal cars under a fake name for kicks."
"We poor folks… we've done everything imaginable just to survive. Every trick in the book."
"So yeah, my dream for Fiona was simple: someone decent, someone who wouldn't judge her background, someone she could build a life with."
"But in the end, all that's just talk."
"I'm her father. Fiona is my precious daughter. Twenty-something years ago, her birth made me a father. And from my perspective, she deserves happiness. Nothing less."
"I've failed her before, sure. But I want her to be happy now. To have real happiness."
"So I can't force my ideas onto her. She has her own life, her own choices. But no matter who she brings home, I probably won't like him. That's just how it is."
"But my baby girl is going to get married someday. She'll need someone to support her, to be there for her."
"I want her to have a marriage without regrets. One where I can give her hand away and not look back in pain."
"I want her to marry someone she truly loves. No baggage, no money, no gossip—just her choice, with her head held high, like she's won."
"So… Jimmy. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Frank asked, setting his utensils down.
"Fiona likes you. Really likes you. If you two are going to be together—then even though I don't like you, I'll accept it."
"But you keep letting her down. And I hate that."
"If anyone dares to hurt my daughter, I swear I'll make him regret being born. Believe me—I mean it."
"So think it over. Either divorce that Brazilian chick, go back to Fiona, and live a proper life—or never show up again."
"If you stay gone, Fiona will eventually be okay."
"Sort your crap out," Frank said, wiping his mouth, putting down some cash, and getting up to leave the diner.
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Back in the car, Pinkman saw Frank get in and asked, "Done?"
"Yeah. Let's go," Frank nodded.
"Where to next?" Pinkman asked.
"There's someone I need to see," Frank replied.
"You sure you don't want to go to the hospital first? You look pale as hell—it's scary," Pinkman said.
"I'm fine. A little antibiotics and vitamins will do," Frank answered, feeling parched. They pulled over at a supermarket where he bought a few bottles of water.
Then Pinkman drove him to a small yard where an old, beat-up white RV was parked.
"What are we doing here?" Pinkman asked, confused as they parked the car and just sat there.
"Waiting," Frank said, sipping his water and staring at the RV.
They waited for hours as night fell.
Eventually, a blonde woman in her thirties showed up with a chubby little boy—clearly mother and son. They opened the RV door and went inside.
"You're waiting for them?" Pinkman asked, setting his phone down.
Frank nodded.
"Who are they?" Pinkman asked, watching the pair curiously.
They were obviously poor—living in an RV, dressed modestly. The woman was actually quite pretty. And most importantly, she bore a striking resemblance to Frank.
"She's my daughter. Sammi. So that's what she looks like. And that must be her kid… Looks like I'm a grandfather now," Frank said quietly.
"That woman is your daughter?!" Pinkman was stunned.
He knew all of Frank's kids—aside from his goddaughter Karen, there were six of them, including Fiona. But apparently, there was another.
"Yeah. To be exact, she's actually my real eldest daughter. Fiona's the second," Frank said with a nod.
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