On the way back in the car, Sheldon remembered the promise he had made to Paige and asked, "Dad, do you know that Paige's parents are getting divorced?"
George, who had been listening to the Swansons' nagging all morning, knew this very well.
However, discussing other people's family affairs behind their backs was never a good thing. So, George cautioned, "Sheldon, don't spread this kind of thing around."
"I know," Sheldon replied casually, then continued, "Mike and I want to help Paige..."
Next, Sheldon briefly explained Paige's situation and Mike's proposed solution to his father.
"That little girl is indeed quite pitiful..." George recalled the scene where Paige had been scolded by her mother.
Logically speaking, having a child prodigy in the family should be a source of pride.
While it's not about giving a child prodigy special treatment, a mother like Paige's, who severely scolds her daughter for a minor mistake, is truly going too far.
Anyway, George had never scolded his youngest son like that.
"Mike, are you serious?" After listening to his youngest son's narration, George looked at Mike in the rearview mirror and asked.
As an adult, George thought further ahead than his youngest son.
He knew that helping Paige was not that simple; there would definitely be a lot of trouble afterwards.
"Yes, I want to help Paige within my capabilities," Mike nodded and said, "In fact, she's almost suffocating and has even thought about running away from home."
George, who had been listening to the Swansons' nagging all morning, had some understanding of their family's situation.
One could imagine how much pressure Paige had to endure in such a complex family environment.
"Alright, I'll discuss this with Mary. I believe we can help that little girl." George took on the task.
In some ways, George was a very good person.
Not long after, the three of them returned to Medford Town.
As soon as Mike got out of the car, he saw a bustling scene at Connie's doorstep.
At this time in the afternoon, the flea market had attracted a large number of surrounding residents to come and watch.
And because of the unreliable sellers, Georgie and Missy, the scene became very chaotic.
"Mike, you're finally back! Come help!" Connie, who was almost overwhelmed, shouted with surprise when she saw Mike.
"OK." Mike, who still had a favor to ask for later, immediately joined the ranks of the sellers.
In front of a small raccoon specimen, Missy and Billy, the neighbor's child, were at a stalemate.
Billy, with only five dollars, wanted to buy the small raccoon specimen priced at five dollars.
Missy, on the other hand, due to her terrible math, couldn't calculate the middle price.
"Is there anything I can help with?" Mike came up to the distressed Missy and asked.
"I can't figure out the middle price," Missy answered honestly.
Then, she briefly explained the situation to Mike.
"Billy, the lowest price for this specimen is one dollar. You can go back and ask your father if he's willing to buy it for you." Mike, who understood the general situation, said to Billy, the neighbor's child.
Connie had priced ordinary animal specimens at five dollars, which was clearly a bit too high.
Such items only had value if one hunted and made them oneself; they didn't hold much appeal for others.
Perhaps only a naive Billy would want to buy it back as a toy.
"Alright, I'll go ask my dad," Billy said, reluctantly putting down the small raccoon specimen.
After Billy left, Mike said to Missy, who was beside him, "You go take a break; I'll handle this here."
Missy, who had been tormented by "work" all morning, heard Mike's words as music to her ears. She cheered as if liberated, "That's great!"
After giving Mike a hug, the little girl happily ran back home.
At the flea market, with Mike's addition, the selling activities became smoother.
As evening approached, more than half of the second-hand goods at the flea market had been sold.
The remaining items were things like pipes and clothes, which were more private and harder to sell.
It's worth mentioning that the mediocre small raccoon specimen was also bought by Billy, who returned later, for one dollar.
After a day of hard work, Connie, who had earned a handful of small bills from the sales, was in a very good mood.
"Mike, put the rest of the stuff in the basement. Later, I'll treat you to a big meal." Connie, with money in hand, seemed very generous.
Just then, Dr. Sturgis, who had finished his weekend work, rode his bicycle over.
"Connie, I hope I haven't missed your sale," Dr. Sturgis greeted from afar.
"You've come at just the right time," Connie, in a good mood, smiled and said, "Look around, I can give you an insider's discount."
At this time, besides Dr. Sturgis, there were no other customers in the flea market.
After observing the remaining items for a while, Dr. Sturgis suddenly picked out a vintage brown overcoat.
The weather was starting to get cold now, and this brown overcoat came in handy.
This brown overcoat was clearly a bit too large on Dr. Sturgis. However, he seemed to like this loose feeling very much.
Dr. Sturgis, wearing the overcoat, moved around a bit, and then unexpectedly found a box of chewing gum for cigarettes in the coat pocket.
Although Dr. Sturgis didn't smoke, he really liked this kind of unexpected little "surprise."
This also made him decide to purchase the overcoat.
"Connie, how much is this coat?" Dr. Sturgis went up to Connie, showed her the coat he was wearing, and asked.
Connie, who was happily counting her change, saw the overcoat on Dr. Sturgis and her expression gradually became complicated.
This overcoat was her deceased husband's clothing, and seeing it on Dr. Sturgis made Connie feel very uncomfortable.
"What's wrong, Connie?" Dr. Sturgis, who still didn't know what had happened, smiled and said, "I really like this coat; you don't have to give me a discount."
"You can't wear this coat." Connie, lost in memories, was a bit emotional.
"Why?" Dr. Sturgis asked, puzzled.
"It just can't be, anyway." Connie didn't know how to explain it to him, so she could only say firmly, "This is not for sale."
After speaking, Connie seemed to have had all her energy drained, and she returned to the house alone, looking dejected.
"There's clearly a price tag on it, why is it not for sale?" Dr. Sturgis, who didn't understand the atmosphere, looked puzzled.
"Maybe because it belonged to Connie's previous husband," Mike, who was tidying up items, spoke up to hint.
Judging by Connie's reactions before and after, and the style of the coat, its origin could be easily guessed.
"I don't mind." Dr. Sturgis's thought process was clearly different from ordinary people. Then, he even asked, "Also, why is Connie angry?"
The main point of the problem now was clearly not whether Dr. Sturgis minded, but that Connie minded a lot.
Looking at Mike's strange gaze, Dr. Sturgis put down the overcoat and said, "Never mind, I'll go see how Connie is doing."
Fortunately, Dr. Sturgis's current reaction was still salvageable.
"Remember, don't mention the coat later, and don't ask about Connie's previous husband..." Mike reminded Dr. Sturgis as he left.