CLEO
One month later
WOW, THIS ROAD IS A BLAST FROM THE PAST. THIS IS WHERE IT ALL STARTED: A HOCKEY ROMANCE for the ages, I announce.
We’re driving to Marjorie’s home for dinner, but now most of the snow is gone and the signs of spring are everywhere.
A hockey romance for the ages? Mats’s raised eyebrow means I’m getting carried away.
What else do you call it when two of the best hockey players at Monarch College date each other? I muse. Of course, it would be better if I dated the captain and top scorer on the men’s team. What is Big Z up to these days?
Still allergic to relationships, I’m afraid.
I ruffle Mats’s unruly hair. Guess I’ll have to settle.
Who am I kidding? I still feel like I have to pinch myself every day. How did I end up with someone so gorgeous, sweet, and considerate? Each day, Mats reveals some new and charming part of his personality.
Even Becks can’t find anything to criticize, so she settles for blaming Mats every time Minnie destroys another hair tie. Our house kitten moved in and stole everyone’s hearts. She gets into everything, even our mini-stick games. Our biggest argument is about who gets to take her home for the summer.
And here, we are going for a long-awaited dinner at Marjorie’s. I’m cradling my personal trophy to show her. Our championship win was a dream come true. The finals were held at Monarch, where we had everything: sold-out crowds, tight wins, and even Musty the Mustang. I even had my own cheering section when my mother, her sisters, my cousins, and Graham all came to the semi-final and final games. They screamed for me and waved this huge Go Cleo flag that my Aunt Kelsie had sewn. And that felt fucking great.
Cleo, Mats begins, and I tense. It’s his serious voice.
What is it?
I think we should tell Marjorie the truth about us. That we weren’t really dating from the beginning.
We’ve had this discussion before. Now that we’re really dating, I don’t see why we need to dig up the past. But Barb Peachy said that Marjorie is very close to finalizing the bequest. She asked for all the paperwork. What if we say something and she changes her mind?
He exhales. I would feel worse if she pledged money to the school, then found out we misled her and regretted her donation.
I groan. All this work, for nothing?
Well, if you call our relationship nothing, then yes.
I can tell he’s rolling his eyes without even looking at him. Ugh. You know what I mean, I huff. Everything is about the details with him.
We drive on for a few more minutes. Mats has the strongest moral compass of anyone I know, whereas I was blinded by my family ties until very recently. So, he’s probably right. Okay, definitely right.
I sigh heavily. Fine. Let’s tell her.
He reaches over and squeezes my hand. I think it’s the right thing to do. Besides, Marjorie has a great sense of humour. Maybe she’ll laugh it off.
I’m doubtful. Maybe. Are you going to do the talking?
Sure. I wonder what we’re going to have for dinner, he says.
I phoned ahead to request funeral potatoes. Just for old times, I joke.
Until I actually see that dish in the wild, I’m going to believe that all three of you are pranking me. It’s inconceivable that anyone could put so many unhealthy things together. Mats is up on his healthy-eating soapbox.
But you have to admit, it tastes good.
He shoots me a you-must-be-insane look, and I can’t help giggling.
Soon I’ll get to visit Vancouver and taste all the weird things there, I say.
I guarantee you’ll love everything. The city, the food… and the company, he brags.
