Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
What I think of him is not what I used to.
And I know that’s thanks to Joeski.
She really has changed our whole fucking family without trying.
She’s not just good at her job.
She was made for the job…the job of helping put this family properly together.
Fuck. Me. Why do I sound like something written by one of my favorite authors?
“Igor,” Father firmly states, dragging my stare back to his away from where it wandered off to, “tell me the truth.” He folds his arms over his old sweatshirt covered chest. “Do you think I’m a bad father? A bad grandfather?”
“I think…you’re…better than you once were.”
“Yet still not good enough.”
“Good enough for what?”
“Good enough for you to see that you are not the only one trying in this family!”
Irateness has me propelling myself forward. “You want the fuckin’ Cup for finally showin’ you give a shit about more than hockey?! Are you fucking with me right now, old man?!” Slamming my hands on the island is attached to an escalation in volume. “You think a few months of family dinners and showing up for your only grandchild’s random interests and buying her books because you think it’s okay for her to be reading for hours at a time make up for the fact you were never fucking there for me?! That you missed my first fuckin’ goal! My first fuckin’ championship! That you missed my first fucking signing because your bitch level league shit was more important than celebrating me entering the sport you gave me no choice but to fucking be in!” Ruthlessly pounding my fists on the surface tips over my plastic water bottle. “You’re the reason I don’t fucking trust anyone! You’re the reason I flipped out on my fucking girlfriend over just the possibility of her life not revolving around me!” Another punch to the surface attempts to pacify the increasing wrath. “You’re the one who has spent my entire life abandoning me the second something hockey related popped on your goddamn radar instilling in me this fucking compulsive need to do the exact opposite for my fucking daughter even if means throwing away the only fucking thing, I’m good at!”
“Net.” The slow headshake I’m presented with is perplexing. “Ty khorosh ne tol'ko v khokkeye.” Pride pierces his pale glare. “You are good at so, so much more, son.”
Confused silence is attached to the twitch of my eyebrows.
“You’re a natural leader. That’s why they’ve always put that C on your chest. You’re a natural adapter. That’s why trades have always been so much easier for you than others. You’re a natural learner. That’s why teaching you Russian – regardless of how little I was actually around – wasn’t a challenge like it has been for Bella. And most importantly,” he crosses over to rest his hands on the same structure I have mine, “you are so good at being a father it makes me hate myself even more for how shitty I was.”
The lump of sadness clogging my throat expands.
Wedges itself deeper.
“You’re right. The only thing I gave a fuck about for so long was hockey. But…as I grow older and my muscles get sore a lot easier…and my bones ache more than I care to admit…and my teammates from those days post pictures of their third and fourth wives or their new jobs at Harry’s Hardware or doing paperwork for an elevator inspection company – in which he only got the job because someone in management is a hockey fan – as a result of being unable to do anything else, I see how fucking lucky I am to have the life I have. How I need to stop taking the important shit – like your mom, you, moya malen'kaya printsessa, and even Joey – for granted and appreciate it. It’s a miracle I have any of this shit given what I put you all through. Do you have any idea how many women would’ve left someone like me? Or how many sons who had fathers in the league don’t speak to them at all? I don’t want that. I’ve never wanted that. I know I haven’t always given this family my best in the past, but it’s the only thing I wanna do now.” Another small shrug bounces his aging frame. “Do better than me, Igor. Don’t wait until it’s too late to choose the people you love over the sport that’ll someday stop loving you.”
Dolefulness drops my head forward on a heartbroken sigh.
He’s right.
I always say my family comes first.
But now?
Now, it’s time I really fucking prove it.
Chapter 24
Igor
“What do you mean you can’t find her, Igor?!” Berks squawks from the other end of the phone. “She’s a person, not a labradoodle despite how her hair looks sometimes.”
I roll my eyes prior to passing my keys to Charlie Burton, our team’s vehicle attendant. “I’m serious, Berks.”