Page 36 of For Butter or Worse
You will never fix this mess.
You are a failure.
Everyone hates you.
No one will ever love you.
You’re not good enough.
The words were what he heard before his panic attacks, too. Only now, and whenever he found himself in this self-loathing, unable-to-function place, he was buried alive by them. Versus when a panic attack came on, and the sensation was more like drowning and trying to frantically swim to the surface. He didn’t want to leave the cave his mind had crawled into—he just had to wait until a light shone through to lead him out.
Leo’s phone vibrated. He exhaled heavily and checked the screen. His mom was calling. Not unusual. They talked every day. He just didn’t know if he was up for pretending like everything was okay, when he felt anything but. If he didn’t answer, though, she’d just call back, over and over, until he picked up. Then, if he didn’t pick up, she’d drive the five minutes it took to reach his house and open the front door with her key. And he didn’t want his ma to see him...like this.
“Hey, Ma,” he answered.
“Where are you?” If she’d picked up on his tone, she didn’t call it out.
“At home.”
“There’s a rerun ofYou’ve Got Mailplaying on channel sixty-four. Do you get that channel?”
This was something his mom loved to do—call him and tell him what to watch on cable TV. He would’ve switched to streaming services years ago, but he didn’t have the heart to not indulge her favorite pastime. “I don’t know—what’s it called?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’s it called?’ It’s channel sixty-four.”
He sighed. He hadn’t had much life in him before the call, but he could feel his heart rate ticking up at the anticipation of fighting over technology with her. “Is it TBS or ABC or one of those?”
“Just turn on the TV to channel sixty-four, like I said.” She was shouting for no reason now—she wasn’t angry; this was just her way. “You love that movie.”
He did love a Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan combo...but he’d been settling into his day of sitting in the dark, waiting for the hail to clear from his mind. He wasn’t sure he could stomach a rom-com.
“We can watch it together,” she continued. “And you can tell me all about your date with Nina.”
Ugh, no.He wasn’t in the mood to talk to his mom about Nina. Because he’d have to lie about dating her, and then tell her the truth he’d barely been able to wrap his head around—they had a connection. Not just from knowing and working with each other, but there was a spark of something between them. Even if it was just a friendship spark.
“You go to dinner with a woman, and then she ends up crying? Did you break up with her?”
He rubbed his forehead. This was not going to be a short call, as he’d hoped. “No, Ma, I didn’t break up with her.”
“Because for some reason, you always get dumped. I don’t understand why. You’re handsome, smart and on TV. How could these idiots break up with you?”
He hadn’t told his mom that he may not be on TV for much longer, thanks to how he’d treated Nina. She loved bragging about how her son was a celebrity. When she introduced herself to a new person, she always started with “My son is Leo O’Donnell, you know, the famous man?”
“But then I see photos of Nina crying,” his mom continued. “And I’m wondering—did my Leo break up with someone this time? He didn’t get dumped, like all those other times?”
“This is not making me feel great, by the way—” he said.
But his mom cut him off, maybe not even hearing him. “I also know that you want to get married to someone special. Give me grandchildren. So I’m wondering, what is going on here? What could possibly make this woman cry? And then I realized the answer—you must have proposed to her. She’s got tears of happiness.”
Leo guffawed. His mom could not be more off, though he was pretty sure she knew that, too.
“I barely know Nina,” he said.
Except now he knew about her mom, and he’d hinted to her about his anxiety. Which was more than he’d revealed to any woman he was dating in a very long time...maybe ever. Leo had relationships, but he had a hard time getting them past a few dates. He was never willing or able to reveal the parts of himself that he was sure he’d be judged on. With Nina, he hadn’t expected to feel anything for her beyond his usual remorse at being paired with her. Which is why he’d felt comfortable opening up—she already hated him, so what was another pour of alcohol on the flames? But something small had shifted with them, and now hedidcare what she thought.
“I did not propose to her,” he clarified.
“I don’t know what you’re waiting for.” His ma tsked. “When you know, you know. Just like Tom Hanks knows he’s meant to be with Meg Ryan.”
