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Part Thirty Five

Becca's POV

My dad is visiting Chicago today and Andrew and I are going to have dinner with him. I slip a bobby pin into my hair, and slip on my dangly earrings, the little diamonds catching the light and throwing sparkles around the dim room. Andrew walks up, struggling with his tie. "Can you, uhm, help me with this?" he asks, fumbling around. I stand up and carefully tie it, my eyes meeting his as I tighten it around his neck. "I can't wait to meet your dad," he says. "Me either," I say, giving him a little smile.

Inside though, I'm not sure I'm ready for them to meet. My parents always wanted me to marry an Indian boy, keep the tradition of marriage the way they believed it should be. Anytime I brought up hockey when I was younger, they always pushed it aside. When my mom died, she still believed I would marry an Indian boy through an arranged marriage. But that's just not me. I can't do that, especially now that I've fallen in love with Andrew. Each day I spend with him, just makes me love him more. 

We get to the restaurant and I see my dad standing outside waiting for us. "Hi Dad," I say. "Rebecca," he says, eyeing my black dress. I know he wishes I would dress in traditional Indian saris, but I'm more of an American girl, opting for more modern fashions over traditional wear. Andrew follows me and holds out his hand. "Mr. Scott, so nice to meet you." My dad gives him no smile, just firmly shakes his hand. 

The whole dinner is awkward from beginning to end. "So what is your job?" my dad asks Andrew. "I play hockey for the Chicago Blackhawks." Andrew replies. "Oh, hockey?" my dad asks, giving him a forced smile. He turns to me. "Rebecca, could I talk with you a minute?" He stands up and walks towards the front lobby of the restaurant. "I'll be right back," I tell Andrew, giving him a little kiss on the cheek as I leave. 

"Rebecca," my dad says. "I will not have you dating this boy." We're standing by the coat check and the girl sitting inside looks up at us from her magazine, then goes back to reading her article. "You will tell him you are not available to be dating and that is final. I thought it was enough with your ridiculous ice girl job, but now I find out you're dating one of these hockey players." His voice grows louder as he becomes more angry.

"Your mother wanted to you to marry an Indian boy, and I will not have you disobeying her wishes." "You don't understand, Dad" I start, but he stops me by reaching out and slapping me hard against the side of my face. It stings not because of the impact, but because of the memories of him doing the same thing when I was younger. "Don't you dare talk back to me. You are a disgrace to our family," he hisses. I look up and see Andrew walking up behind him. 

"Mr. Scott, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I cannot allow you to hit Becca like that," he says stepping between us. "Mr. Shaw, I recommend you get out of my daughter's life and never talk to her again," my dad says, his voice angry, his eyes flashing. "Your kind is not wanted in our family and I will not see you with my daughter ever again." Andrew looks at me, my hand holding my stinging cheek, tears gathering my eyes. "No," he says, "This girl is a wonderful person and I will not stand to see you harm her like that, regardless of if you are her father or not." He takes my hand and pulls me away from my dad. "I think this dinner is over," Andrew says stiffly to my dad. We start walking away. "Rebecca Abhilasha Scott, do not expect me to be in your life anymore." I look back at my dad, all my childhood memories flashing through my mind and I just shake my head a little at him. 

When Andrew and I get home, neither one of us talks. It's only when I'm sitting on the couch in my pajamas that Andrew comes over and sits by me. He hands me a mug of hot chocolate, another one in his hands and I just lean against him, sipping it slowly. When the mugs are empty we just sit there, my head on his chest, his arms around me. 

Heidi's POV

"Hey," Brandon says, giving me a kiss as I slip into the passenger seat of his car. "Hey yourself," I giggle. "You look nice tonight." He's wearing a button down and black pants, a little stubble on his face. "Well you look as beautiful as you always do," he says, starting the car up. I blush, not used to getting compliments like Brandon always gives to me.