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“Papa please!”
I never interrupt him. He looks like he’s just been slapped.
“I love that you believe in me. And I know you’ve invested a lot in my career. But it’s not my fault I got injured. And I’m sick of being in pain, and not being good enough.”
His face softens. “Aloyshka, you are good enough.”
“No Papa, I think you’re blinded by how badly you want me to succeed.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Talk to Coach Allan. Talk to any NHL scout. They’ll tell you the same thing. I’ve got no chance. I’ve come to terms with that, now you have to.”
“You’re quitting. You only lose if you quit.”
“You’re right, Icouldplay hockey. I could go play in the ECHL and hope they’ll sub my accommodation. I could play there until my shoulder gives out again, or something else. And then I could come back home with nothing and you’d still be living in this apartment with Babulya and Dasha. And you’d still be struggling at the store-”
“Who said I’m struggling? I’m not struggling. And what’s wrong with this apartment? You grew up in this apartment.” He lets out a disbelieving laugh, gesturing vaguely around the tiny room. “This is your home. It’s bigger than where me and your mother lived in Siberia.”
“I know Papa. There’s nothing wrong with it, and I’m grateful. You sacrificed everything for us and you gave us everything we need. Now let me give you something.”
He crosses the room and puts his hand on my good shoulder, looking into my eyes. I note the pleading look and have to drop my eyes.
“All I want is for you to do what you love. To play hockey, like we planned.”
I lick my lips. The pain meds make my mouth dry and I’m starting to get a headache. But I’ll be damned if I walk away from this conversation. I’ve been waiting too long to have it and he’s too good at brushing things under the rug.
“You know what I want?”
“What?”
“I applied for internships in Vancouver and Nashville, in the NHL.”
He frowns. “What do you mean? Internships?”
“In finance.”
He lets out a sigh. “Finance? You’re a player, not a banker.”
“No Papa, I’m not a player. Not anymore. And this is something I’m good at. And a way for me to make money and take care of you guys-”
“You don’t take care of me, I take care of you.”
“And you have, but now it’s time to let me help. I’m a man now, don’t you always remind me of that? Don’t men take care of their family?” I try to speak in his language. Use concepts he’ll understand, but I can see it isn’t getting through.
I run a hand over my face.
“I’m sorry, but this isn’t up for discussion anymore. I’m going to do everything I can to stay in school. If that means sitting in the arena in a suit during every game and watching my team play without me, then that’s what I’ll do. But then I’m going to do a finance internship. No more hockey.”
He sinks into his armchair, sighing and running his hand over his stubble.
“And by the way, I won’t let you ever be rude to Stef again.”
He frowns and looks up at me. “Stef? Who?”
“The guy I live with.”Boyfriend.The word’s on the tip of my tongue, but I decide not to give him a full-blown heart attack. Let the hockey thing sink in first. Then I’ll tell him about Stef.
I leave him sitting in his chair, shaking his head and mumbling to himself.