We both went silent, as if we were sitting together in the palace drawing room, sipping tea and looking out at the sprawling lawn beyond. But we weren’t. And the distancebetween us became more solid—more real—with every second that passed in silence.
“Lamb, I’ve got a lot on the line here. Like, my whole career. This is a kinda make-or-break season for me. But if you say I need to come home, I’ll give it all up. Family comes first.”
Lambert didn’t speak right away, and when he did, his voice was shaky.
“No. Don’t—don’t do that. I don’t know why I called. Sometimes I just get in my own head.”
“Lamb?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re clean, right?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I’m clean.”
“When’s the last time you were in rehab?” I was pretty sure the one rehab facility on Murdan had a suite with my brother’s name over the door, he’d been there so many times now.
“You won’t like the answer.”
“Just tell me.”
“Couple months back.”
“Lamb...”
“Look, the two things are unrelated.”
I rolled my eyes. “Being clean and rehab are not related?”
“Listen, this is not why I called. And now I’m actually sorry I did. I shouldn’t have bothered you. You left, and that is what matters. We should all just respect the distance and leave you to hockey.”
The words were right, but the delivery left a stone sinking in my guts.
“You called to tell me something about Dad.”
“Yeah, but just pretend I didn’t. Good luck this season.” Lambert hung up.
I stared at my phone, and a text came through from Lambert.
Lambert: I’m sorry. Forget I called. Everything is fine.
It was pretty clear that everything was not fine.
I put my phone down and stared out the window for a long moment, feeling like reality had shifted somehow. Moments ago, my life had been 100 percent about hockey and the Wombats. Now, an unwanted second priority was edging in—one I’d put away a long time ago.
Did my family need me?
CHAPTER 18
LIZZY
FAMILY-FRIENDLY SUGGESTIVENESS
I slepton the ideas of the calendar and the wombat, but I didn’t wake up with anything more exciting. So when I met with Declan after practice the next day, I was ready to tell him about both.
“Lizzy,” he said. “How’s the movie coming?”
That’s right—he still thought we were making a documentary.