“That’s as good as a promotion,” Jude says proudly. I smile. It’s nice to have a brother who is so supportive. Honestly, he could have made this a nightmare for me because it’s his team and his sport, but he’s done everything possible to make it a positive experience, including lying about being my sibling.
“Let’s hope so,” I reply vaguely, because I can’t spill Ann’s news. “So why are you calling from the road? I know it’s not the usual reasons, like some puck bunny put your dick on the internet.”
He huffs his frustration into the phone. “For fuck’s sake, Dixie, that happened once. Let it go.”
I laugh lightly and he huffs again. “Have you checked in on everyone yet? I want to know how the first day in the new place is going. I would bug Zoey to head over there and check on them, but it’s her day off, and I just want her to rest and take care of my boy.”
“Girl,” I correct him, even though I have no idea, but it’s too much fun to annoy him. “I will go over there when I’m done here. I’ll text you with intel. I’m sure they’re doing fine.”
I’m hoping that some alone time with my family will get my mind off Eli.
“I texted Sadie last night, and she said Dad went to bed early because he’s getting a cold,” Jude says. “If they need a doctor, I’ve had all his records transferred to one our team doctor suggested who is supposed to be the best neurologist in the city. Mom has her name and number.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” I say, trying to calm him down. The one downside to having Dad here is that Jude is going to make himself even sicker than he already does with worry. “But email me the contact info too.”
“Will do.” Jude pauses and then adds, almost reluctantly, “Is it too much to ask you to check on Zoey too? I just worry being so far away. But don’t tell her I sent you. She’ll hate that.”
The ache in my heart over Eli is temporarily replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling over my brother, the manwhore-turned-lovesick-about-to-be-dad. “Don’t worry, Zoey will never know.”
“Thanks,” he says gratefully. “You’re my favorite youngest sister.”
I laugh. “I love you, Jude.” I never say that to him. Like hardly ever, but I’m feeling weak and vulnerable.
“Love you too, Dix.”
I end the call and am turning around to check my open inbox on my computer to see if Ann has responded when something catches my eye. Trish is standing by the door staring at me. I’m so startled I jump and nearly fall off my chair. Gripping my desk with one hand and my chest with the other, I gasp. “Hey! Jesus, I had no idea you were here.”
“And I had no idea you’d be here,” she replies with a big smile as she walks toward her own desk.
“What are you doing in on a Sunday?” I ask.
“I heard about Noah and that they’re bringing up Elijah Casco, and I wanted to get a jump on the press box requests,” she explains. “You know it’s going to be through the roof for the first home game.”
I nod. Right. Trish is in charge of assigning press box seats.
“I take my job very seriously,” she adds.
Okay, that was a weird declaration. I try not to frown. “I’m here helping Ann with the press release.”
I feel like I need to explain that to her so she knows I take my job seriously too and I’m not just here stealing staplers or something. She smiles her typical smile that is so big it looks fake. “That’s great.”
She gives me one last smile and turns to her computer.
I wish I knew why I find it so hard to hang out with her. I try not to sigh as I check my email. Ann responded that my release is good to go, so I spend the next fifteen minutes uploading it to the press section of our website, then grab my bag and stand up. “See you tomorrow, Trish. Don’t work too hard.”
She smiles. “Yeah. You have a great night, Dixie.”
I wave, overenthusiastically like she would to me, and I’m out the door before she can respond.
Sadie buzzes me into my parents’ new place, and as soon as I walk in the front door my mom hands me a key. “Use this whenever. Also, we have a pull-out couch in the living room, and we can put another bed in Sadie’s room if you’d like.”
“Make it Winnie’s room!” Sadie calls out, wandering down the hall toward the kitchen.
“I don’t need a bed. The pull-out is fine,” I promise and hug my mom, taking the key and slipping it onto my key ring. “I probably won’t spend the night anyway.”
“Is that Little D?” I hear my dad call out. I smile. The older I got, the more I disliked the nickname for a multitude of reasons, including the fact that I really was the littlest in the family, in age and height and weight, and also because it felt like it kept me in the baby zone and no one would ever think of me as an adult. I never told him that and now I never will. He can call me whatever he wants. I’m just grateful I still get to hear the sound of his voice.
I follow the sound down the hall to the den, where he’s watching hockey on the biggest TV I’ve ever seen. Jude must have bought that, because their TV in the family room in the Toronto house was half this size. This TV is even bigger than Jude’s.
