Chapter 20
Chapter 20
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Flea Market (2)
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"Of course. It's all yours."
"Won't Mom worry?"
She was worrying like a little adult again.
"Why would she worry?"
"Mom said we can't buy everything we want... Our house doesn't have money."
It tugged at my heartstrings for no reason.
Both Nancy, who was saying this, and Dorothy, who had to explain their situation to her young daughter.
"No, this isn't expensive. It's only twenty bucks."
"But twenty dollars... That's what Mom makes working two hours at the diner."
"......"
I had nothing to say to that.
It was just heartbreaking that a six-year-old was calculating her mom's hourly wage.
"It's okay. Uncle's treating today, so it won't cost Mom a dime."
"...Really?"
"Really."
"Thank you! Uncle Jake is a real angel!"
An angel? Nah.
I was just an ordinary uncle buying his niece a toy.
"Heehee, I'm gonna build the Lego as soon as we get home! I'll show Mom too!"
"Sounds good. Let's build it together."
We kept walking, checking out various booths.
There was an antiques booth with old clocks, sculptures, and handicrafts on display.
I wanted to touch them, but with Nancy along, I put it off for later.
I'd have to come back alone next time, I thought.
At the vintage furniture booth, I spotted a 1950s chair.
It was in good condition, and the price was decent. But without the truck today, I passed.
I picked up a few antique-related books at the book booth.
'American Antiques Guide'
'Flea Market Treasure Hunting'
'Vintage Collectibles Price Guide'
Total of fifteen dollars.
After about an hour of walking, Nancy started looking tired.
"Nancy, you hungry?" "Yeah... a little." Rubbing her tummy like that was adorable. "Want a hot dog?" "Mm, yeah! But..." "But?" "If it's too expensive, I don't wanna. We can eat at home." She said it again. "Not expensive at all. Don't worry."
We lined up at the food truck.
It had a sign that read 'Big Joe's Hot Dogs'.
"What can I get you?" A big Black guy asked. "Two hot dogs, please. Mustard and ketchup on both. And two lemonades." "Got it! Ten bucks!"
I handed over the money and got the hot dogs and lemonades.
Steam rose from the freshly grilled sausages.
I took Nancy to a wooden bench and sat down. "Here you go. It's hot, so be careful." "Okay! Thanks for the food!" Nancy grabbed the hot dog with both hands and took a big bite. "Om nom! Jake, this is sooo good!" "Eat slower. You'll get a tummy ache." "Heehee, okay!"
Mustard was all over Nancy's mouth.
I chuckled watching her chug the lemonade.
She was such a cute, sweet kid. "Haha, you're covered in it. Come here."
I wiped her mouth with a napkin.
Nancy burst into giggles watching me.
"Jake." "Yeah?" "I'm really happy. Today." "Out of the blue?" "Just... I'm always happy with Mom, you, and Grandpa Sam. But today I'm extra happy." "Why?" "I got new clothes, the Lego, hot dogs... And coming out just the two of us is the best!"
My chest warmed up.
I ruffled her hair a few times for no reason.
"I'm happy when I'm with you too, my little princess." "Really?" "Yep, for real. You're the sunshine of our home." "Sunshine?" "Yeah. Everyone brightens up around you."
Nancy beamed.
It really was a sunshine smile.
Seeing that smile, the eighty bucks I'd spent today didn't feel like a penny wasted.
Not even eight hundred would have been too much for that smile.
We finished the hot dogs and did another lap around the flea market.
Handmade soap booth, crafts, plants... Just looking around was fun.
Around four in the afternoon, the sun started dipping. "Time to head home?" "Yeah!"
The four shopping bags were full of treasures.
Clothes, toys, books...
"Nancy, did you have fun today?" "Yeah! It was the best! Can we come again?" "Of course. It's every Saturday, so let's come back." "Really? Promise?" "Promise."
We pinky-swore.
I loaded the bags into the car and headed home.
Country music played on the radio.
Nancy hugged her Lego box in the back seat, quietly looking out the window.
It was an ordinary day, but my heart felt warm.
'Days like this must build a real family.'
I thought as I drove down Route 290.
I had to score something good at next Saturday's auction.
I wanted to do more for Nancy.
When I got home, Dorothy was already there.
She was sitting on the trailer steps, looking at her phone.
"Oh, you're back already?"
"No customers, so I got off early."
Her face looked off.
Something must've happened at the diner.
"Rough day?"
"No... I'm fine."
She didn't look fine at all.
"Mommy!"
Nancy jumped out of the car.
"Mom, look! Jake got me this!"
"My little one!"
Nancy ran up holding the shopping bags like trophies.
Dorothy's expression turned complicated—gratitude mixed with guilt.
"Jake, this much..."
"It's fine. Flea market stuff isn't pricey."
Dorothy bit her lip.
She could tell from the number of bags it wasn't cheap.
But honestly, it was no burden for me.
"Still..."
"Nancy needs winter clothes. Don't worry about it. What's buying clothes for my niece?"
Dorothy turned away, dabbing at her eyes.
"...I say it every time, but thank you."
"What're families for."
Dorothy smiled at that.
She tried to hide it, but her eyes were misty.
"Yeah, family. Us."
Nancy tugged Dorothy's hand.
"Mom, look at the Lego! It's a Disney princess castle! Let's build it together!"
"Oh, it is! So pretty! After dinner."
Watching mother and daughter peer into the Lego box warmed my heart.
Then Nancy hugged Dorothy tight and looked up.
"Mom, did you have a hard day? Gonna smoke?"
"Uh... You saw me smoke?"
"Yeah. You smoke when you're upset."
Dorothy looked flustered.
"No, I'm okay."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Mommy's fine."
But Nancy kept scanning Dorothy's face.
Worried eyes.
"Mom, don't push yourself. Don't get sick."
"...Okay."
Nancy patted her mom's head with her little hand.
Too mature for a six-year-old.
For dinner, Sam and I had simple tacos.
"How'd the checkup go?"
"Good. Doc said I'm improving a lot. Doing well with rehab too."
"Glad to hear it."
"Jake, it's thanks to you. Surgery wasn't cheap."
"Family, right?"
After dinner, Nancy and I assembled the Lego.
She worked hard stacking the blocks on her own—impressive.
"Jake, does this go here?"
"Yep, perfect. You're smart."
It took about an hour to finish the princess castle.
"Done!"
"Whoa! It's beautiful!"
Nancy cheered.
Dorothy snapped a photo.
"My girl's the best!"
Back in my trailer, I lay in bed replaying the day.
Antique studying, flea market, Nancy's smile, Lego building...
Ordinary and simple, but a pretty happy day.
'Gotta work harder.'
To keep this happiness, I had to be the rock.
Next Saturday's auction was key for that.
So Nancy could live like a real kid.
Dorothy could quit smoking again.
Sam could live more comfortably.
'Gotta make it big.'
I closed my eyes.
Dreamt of Nancy playing in the Lego princess castle.
Monday, 4 a.m.
I woke before the alarm.
My body had long adapted to this rhythm.
Outside was pitch black.
A few trailer park streetlights glowed faintly in the dark.
A dog barked in the distance—probably Grandma Margaret's beagle.
I washed up quick and brewed coffee.
Cheap beans, but the rich aroma chased sleep away.
Mug in hand, I stood by the window.
"Hm, today's run... Houston, right."
Hauling building materials to Houston.
360 miles round trip, about six hours.
Smooth sailing, and I'd be home by 7 p.m.
Sipping coffee, I mapped the route in my head.
I-10 east, through Columbus, to the north Houston logistics center. Familiar road.
I'd driven this stretch hundreds of times in fifteen years.
That's when it happened.
"Jake!"
A voice from outside.
Nancy.
I stepped out. She stood there with a little lunchbox bag.
The new blue down jacket stood out even in the dark.
Her hair was messy, sleep still in her eyes.
"Little one, up so early?"
"Woke up early to give you this."
She handed over the lunchbox with small hands.
Shivering, she kept stuffing them in and out of her pockets.
"What's this?"
"Mom made sandwiches. For lunch."
My heart warmed.
"Thanks. Where's Mom?"
"Already at the diner. 4 a.m. shift. She's been going in early lately—worries me, sigh."
Nancy crossed her arms, looking all serious like an adult.
Too cute—I ruffled her hair.
"Got it. It's cold—go inside. Don't catch a cold."
"Okay, drive safe. Nancy'll wait at home."
"Be back soon."
She waved and went in. I watched her little figure disappear inside.
I opened the lunchbox bag.
Two turkey ham sandwiches, an apple, some cookies.
A note on the sandwich wrap.
'Drive safe today! - Dorothy & Nancy'
I smiled.
Little things like this got me through the day.
I climbed into the Freightliner like always.
Engine roared to life, rough but ready.
Sam and I'd driven it over twenty years combined, still going strong.
Orange dashboard lights pierced the dark.
Fuel gauge half full—fill up near the center.
Out of the trailer park, onto Route 290.
Road was empty. This hour, mostly trucks.
Headlights stretched endlessly on asphalt.
Hit I-10 east.
Plains to the right. Ranch fences glinted occasionally.
Cows grazing faintly in the dark.
Bzzzzt—
CB radio on.
[...Deer near mile marker 234. Just saw two.]
[10-4. Thanks.]
Drivers chatting.
Sharing road info, cop spots, sometimes just bullshitting.
[Big Dave here. Anyone headed to Columbus?]
Grabbed the mic.
"Yeah, me. Call sign Winch."
[Winch? New call sign. Rookie?]
"No, fifteen years in."
[Oh, vet. Same direction—share any good info?]
"Welcome aboard."
Locked to channel 19.
Trucker main frequency.
About an hour in, sun rose.
Texas plains framed an orange sun.
Cloudless, perfect morning.
Sky shifted from orange to pink to blue.
This was trucking's reward.
Seeing new skies every day, up close.
Then news on the radio.
[...Serial killings targeting women in north Houston. Three found dead in last three weeks. Police say...]
I listened close.
[...Victims all sex workers near truck stops. Police ramping up checks on truckers, urge public tips...]
Serious stuff.
Truck stops always had 'lot lizards' around.
Name from lizards prowling lots at night.
Most hooked on drugs or debt.
Some knocked on my window. I always politely declined.
But lonely drivers took their offers.
'Serial killer...'
Radio kept going.
[...Suspect likely a trucker. Houston PD Chief Michael Jones urges all truckers to cooperate with checks...]
Checks on all truckers?
Bad vibe. Grip tightened on the wheel.