Chapter 15: Steve
"Why is it so cold in here?" Frank woke up shivering.
Knock knock. A knock came from the door.
"Everyone downstairs in ten minutes! Somebody get the door!" Fiona shouted.
Rubbing his arms, Frank trudged over to open the door. Standing outside was a handsome man in neatly pressed casual clothes, with perfectly styled fluffy hair and a neatly trimmed beard—not too thick, just enough to show it had been groomed recently. He looked like a trust fund kid.
"And you are?" Frank asked, frowning. The man looked familiar.
"Uh… hey, Frank." The man gave a slightly awkward wave.
"Steve, get lost. Frank, shut the door," Fiona said coldly as she came downstairs and saw who it was.
"Oh, you're Steve." Recognition dawned on Frank.
Steve was Fiona's ex-boyfriend—the one who had shipped Frank off to Canada without anyone's consent, which ultimately led to their breakup.
No wonder Steve looked so awkward. Ever since the Canada incident, he hadn't seen Frank. Today was the first time.
Steve had been trying to reconcile with Fiona, but she had been stonewalling him. He hadn't been around the past few days, but now that he had time, he was back to try again.
"Wait, I'm here to see Ian, not Fiona," Steve explained quickly.
"Getting close to the little brother to win back the big sister's heart?" Fiona gave a sarcastic nod and stepped aside.
Frank scrutinized Steve from head to toe. This was the guy trying to mess with his beautiful eldest daughter.
As they were speaking, another knock came at the door—a flower delivery guy.
"They're for Fiona," the florist said, handing over a bouquet.
"They're from Steve. Toss them." Fiona took the flowers and threw them straight into the trash.
"That wasn't me!" Steve protested.
"Back for more abuse, huh? I thought you gave up when you didn't show up for days," Lip said, coming downstairs and spotting Steve.
"There's a game in a few days. I'm just here to ask Ian which match tickets he wants," Steve said.
"Damn, the gas bill's overdue. No wonder it's freezing," Fiona muttered as she looked at the notice.
Winter heating bills were no joke. For a family as broke as theirs, losing heating was a disaster.
"What's with him?" Steve asked, noticing Frank glaring at him like a thief.
"He got drunk, hit his head on the stairs, spent a week in the hospital. Had memory loss for two days. Even though he's recovered, his moods are all over the place," Fiona explained while busying herself.
"Memory loss?" Steve blinked, frowning. "He's totally different… like he became someone else. Medically, that's—"
Even though they'd only spoken for ten minutes, Steve could already sense that this Frank was nothing like the one he used to know.
Still, Steve didn't dwell on it. His focus was Fiona.
"Fiona, thanks for an unforgettable night... Tony?!" Steve had picked up the card from the discarded bouquet and read the message out loud. His voice cracked at the end.
"Give me that!" Fiona snatched the card from his hands and read it.
"Who the hell is Tony?"
"Who's Tony!?" Frank and Steve asked in unison.
Frank wasn't clueless—he understood exactly what that card implied. His attention immediately shifted from Steve to this unseen "Tony."
Sure, Fiona was no innocent girl. She'd had nearly a hundred boyfriends by now. But still, the thought of someone "plucking his cabbage" left Frank bitter. No father could stomach that.
"You seriously got with Tony?" Even Lip was caught up in the drama.
"Tony… the cop? You're kidding, right?" Steve asked.
"We get along well. Tony's a good guy. He has a real job," Fiona replied.
"Oh, come on! You broke up with me and immediately ran into someone else's arms?" Steve said, looking stunned.
"We owe over 500 dollars in gas. They'll keep the heat off unless we pay up," Fiona said, brushing it all aside. Romance could wait—survival came first. She picked up the overdue bill.
"I can make about a hundred taking someone's test," Lip offered.
"I read online that if we claim Carl is developmentally challenged, the state gives us $200 a month," Debbie said, watching Carl poke a toy repeatedly with a knife.
"I get paid Friday," Ian added.
"I'll figure out the rest," Fiona said, yanking the knife from Carl's hand.
Soon it was time for school, and the kids started heading out.
"I can lend you the money. Pay me back whenever—or don't. Unless you'd rather ask Tony for help," Steve offered quickly.
"Why are you still here?" Fiona snapped.
His words had touched a nerve. Fiona may have been broke, and had lots of boyfriends, but she wasn't a gold digger. She had her pride.
If she really wanted to, with her looks, she could've made a lot of money by now.
Even when she dated Steve—or anyone before him—she never asked for a dime. No bags, no clothes, no shoes, no "first cup of milk tea in autumn," no holiday gifts, nothing. Not once.
Even when Steve tried to offer her money, she always refused.
"You're only with Tony because you're emotionally messed up, right? Does he know you're only sleeping with him to forget about me?" Steve's tone got sharp, the card's message clearly eating at him.
"You're not welcome here, buddy." Before Steve could say another word, Frank grabbed him and dragged him outside.
"Hey! Let go!" Steve stumbled.
"Listen, punk. I don't like you. Stay away from my daughter," Frank growled, shoving Steve down the porch steps.
"I'll give you a hundred bucks. Just don't stop me," Steve said, pulling out a bill.
"Scram!" Frank flung the money back at him.
"Fine—how about three hundred? Five hundred?" Steve fanned out more bills. Based on his past experience, he figured Frank was just using this as a ploy to shake him down for booze money.
"No matter how much you offer, you're not getting near my daughter," Frank said, slapping the money out of Steve's hand, sending the bills flying.