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Papa’s waiting outside, looking at his watch. His face lights up when he sees me.
He slaps me on the back and tells me in Russian how good I was. “Some of the other guys could have done with some communication out there, but you, you fucking killed it!”
He’s ignoring Stef completely, so I say in English, “Papa, you remember Stef, my roommate.”
He nods at him, barely taking his eyes from me, and when Stef puts his hand out for him to shake, he looks like he isn’t going to take it at first. When he does, he gives it a terse pump, before letting it go. He turns to me and starts speaking in Russian about having to leave fast so we can make our reservation.
“Papa, don’t speak Russian, Stef doesn’t understand.”
He keeps talking to me in Russian, half turning his back on Stef. “I’m not speaking to him, I’m speaking to you, come on, we have things to talk about and we’ll be late.”
Stef drops his eyes and puts his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t know what my dad’s saying, but the fact I asked him a question in English and he replied in Russian shows he totally fucking ignored my request.
“Please stop being rude to him.” I say in English. I’m not gonna let him get away with it this time.
His face turns to thunder at the same time Stef pipes up.
“It’s okay Alexei, I have to get home anyway, it was nice to see you again Sir.”
Stef starts to walk away and I reach for him, grabbing his arm through his coat and holding him in place. He looks at me like I’m doing something wrong. Or like I’m hurting him. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. Leave my dad standing here, or let Stef go home alone?
In Russian, I say to my dad, “please apologize.”
“What’s got into you?” he asks. “Why are you acting like this?”
I make my decision fast. Letting what I feel pull me for once rather than what I think I’m supposed to do.
“I’m leaving.”
Papa doesn’t say anything as I walk away and I can’t bear to turn around and see him watching me walk away from him.
“You should go back.” Stef says.
“He was rude to you. He has to learn, he can’t treat people like that.”
He stops in front of me. “Please Alexei, don’t fall out with your dad over me, I’m begging you, please go back and make it right.”
That pleading look on his face kills me. The guilt about defying my dad is begging me to go back and apologize too. I don’t have the strength or the energy to fight it if Stef’s telling me to go back.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, please, go.”
“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m so so-”
“It’s okay.” That brave little smile he gives me tells me it’s not okay, but what am I supposed to do? I turn around and find Papa still standing there, watching me like he expected me to come back.
He starts cussing me out in Russian under his breath as I follow him to the subway and I apologize about a million times before we get to the restaurant.
As soon as we sit down and order, he’s moved on from berating me for defying him, to picking apart our game play-by-play.
“You played good tonight, but I have to say, Pawlowski had an even better game. That boy was a machine.”
“He’s a good player.”
“You’re the best player on the team, you should have scored the winning goal.”
Now is not the time to fight him on this. I already defied him once tonight.