Yet the Mats in Jordan’s story doesn’t match the Mats I’ve gotten to know. My Mats is considerate, patient, and highly principled. I have trouble imagining him even jaywalking, so how could he fabricate a whole story to get rid of a player? Impossible.
And now there are more hints that Jordan might not have told me the whole story. Knudy clearly doesn’t blame Mats; in fact, she really likes him—as do all my teammates who know him. And what Mats just said is as close to a complete denial as I can get from him.
Still, I feel sorry for my little brother. He needs someone in his corner because he can rub people the wrong way. And yes, sometimes he does asshole things. But he’s really not a bad person. Maybe there’s some kind of middle ground, where Jordan exaggerated and Mats misunderstood?
Ugh, I can’t solve this whole mystery tonight. I exhale loudly. Right now, I owe someone an apology.
I finally find Mats in the library, reading a book. He looks up at me warily.
Hey. I try to smile, but it’s not working for either of us. He looks grim.
I just wanted to say I’m sorry, I begin.
For what? he asks, because he’s all about specificity.
Well, I’m sorry that I’ve been such a dick. That I’ve been treating you like shit for so long.
I pause, hoping that this might be enough, but Mats remains quiet. I know that you won’t discuss this, but from what my brother told me, it seemed like what happened to him was personal. Like you didn’t like him and wanted him off the team.
Mats’s raised eyebrow is giving major are-you-fucking-serious vibes. Shit, this is not going well.
More words from my mother come back to me: You can’t fight all your brother’s battles for him. I didn’t agree, though; if I could help him, why wouldn’t I? My parents were busy working, so I had to stand up for Jordan.
“But I have to admit that, in all the time we’ve spent together, you’re not like that at all. You’re a really nice guy, and even though I’ve fought it all the way, I like you now.’
Mats shakes his head. Am I supposed to thank you? ‘Oh, Mats, against my will, I’ve decided that you’re okay.’
I sigh. Fuck, I’m not doing this right. Let me start again. I’m sorry that I’ve been such a bitch. I’m really sorry for everything I said up in the bedroom. If you’ll forgive me, I hope we can work together to get that bequest.
He waits so long that I start to sweat. Is it too late? Have I irrevocably ruined our relationship before it could even get started?
I think we could work together, he finally says. But you should talk to your brother. Get him to explain exactly what happened.
I have, I begin, but Mats obviously thinks I don’t have all the facts. And he’s right. Of course. I’ll talk to him again.
He nods, and I exhale.
So… truce? I ask.
Sure, he agrees.
It feels like a hugging moment, but Mats doesn’t seem like a hugger. Still, I do a mental fist pump since I’m so relieved that we’re all good.
You want to come with me and see if there any cookies left over from dinner?
Okay. He rises and puts his book back on the shelf. We make our way into the kitchen, but the moment I start opening cupboard doors, Geraldine appears. Her chenille dressing gown doesn’t make her any less scary.
Are you hungry? she asks incredulously.
Those cookies you made were so good. Are there any left? I ask.
Geraldine pulls out an actual cookie jar in the shape of a beehive. Duh, should have looked there first. She puts cookies on a plate and offers us warm milk again. Mats only wants a glass of water.
Oh, you young people and your strong bladders, she remarks before disappearing again. This place is like a murder mystery mansion with hidden exits.
I contemplated sleeping on the living room couch, Mats says in a low voice. But clearly Geraldine is aware of everything that happens in this house.
It’s fine, because I am totally, A-OK happy with our sleeping arrangement, I reassure him.
