34. Leo
Ashiver racked me as I walked into the house, numb and heartbroken. The kitchen was quiet. The only sound was the soft ticking of the wall clock.
Failure. Loser. Loner.
It was on repeat from the moment Mari had told me her feelings. I was desperate for relief from the negative, consuming thoughts. She had finally put into words the truths of what I felt about her for months, yet the revelation that this had all been some silly setup by my own mother filled me with shame. How long would I need other people to come to my defense? When would I be enough on my own?
I shouldn’t have walked away from her, leaving her there with heartache written all over her face, but I was humiliated. I didn’t want to be anybody’s obligation.
I gripped the sink basin, my ears up to my shoulders as I looked down.
There was no comfort coming back here without Mari, no familiar safety of home. The house echoed loudly in silence and cold without her.
But then, knowing Janice was so embarrassed by me that she had to concoct a plan to get me out...I couldn’t look at Mari, let alone talk about this.
My body physically winced. All the Bunco Broads, therefore the whole town, must know how sad I was.
This town never accepted me.
My mother needed space from me.
Mari had never wanted me. It was all a big joke.
I was a joke.
“Leo?” my mother said softly from behind me.
It didn’t stop me from jumping and hitting my hip on the sink as I spun around. “Janice.” I couldn’t meet her gaze.
“Sit down, kiddo, we need to talk,” she said in her no-nonsense voice.
“I want to be alone.”
“Give me three minutes,” she said, same as when I was a teen and never wanted to talk. Was I acting like a child now? The pain didn’t feel adolescent. The pain felt aged and well-worn, an elderly man set in his ways. “I just got a call from Mari. She was worried that she’d messed up.”
“She spilled the beans,” I said icily. I slumped into the chair at the breakfast table.
“It wasn’t a secret we were keeping,” Janice said. I made a grunt of disbelief. She swallowed with a tilt of her head. “But I do regret asking Mari the way I did. I shouldn’t have pushed her so hard.”
“Oh good. Not only did she not want me. She actively fought against me. This is fun.” I rubbed at the burning in my chest.
“She was reluctant, and I persuaded her. And I do regret it. I should have just talked to you. Like you should have told me that you were fired.” She held my gaze meaningfully.
“How did you know?”
“Mother’s instinct. Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asked as she reached for my hands. I stared at them, reluctantly grasping her, and formed my words. My defenses crumbled under Janice’s gentle curiosity.
“I was embarrassed,” I admitted, voice rough. “I had so much to prove, and I shot myself in the foot. After all your support and everything you did, I was a disappointment.”
“That’s not true. Why would you ever think that?” She squeezed me.
I explained to her about the panic attacks and the fights with Vander. How I thought I should be happy, but I always felt like a fraud.
“When I talked to him, he said he knew I would never quit, so he fired me,” I said.
“Oh, sweetie.”
“Coming back home was like admitting defeat. And to know that you—” My voice cut off. I squeezed my hands into my lap.
“I am so sorry, my son,” Janice said. “I want you to know, first and foremost, that I never meant to hurt you. I had no idea you struggled with those things still. I should never have pushed so hard.”
I sighed at the painful reminder that Mari had only ever done this as a favor.
“I thought you just needed some shaking up. And yes, I thought helping Cath would push you outside your comfort zone. I’ve always been a firm believer in helping other people as a way to get out of your own head. It’s a perspective that feels good.”
“I know. And I did love getting to know Cath and playing again. I understand that everything worked out peachy. It doesn’t stop it from hurting.”
“I’m so sorry. I just.” My mom flushed. “I met Faye. And sometimes when you are in love, it makes you want that for everyone.” My eyebrows shot up at her confession but she went on. “I had spent so much time with Mari, you know, over the years as she took over for me. She’s such a lovely woman. She’s sometimes misunderstood in her tenacity, but I knew you two would hit it off. You’d balance each other out.” Janice picked at the table.
“I’m sorry, are you saying this was a setup all along?” I stared agog at her. Mari and I were a balance to each other. She helped me get out of my head, and I allowed her to be herself.
“I thought it was a situation that would help the most number of people.” She patted her curls. “But I wished I’d known you were so caught up in these feelings of unworthiness.” She brushed my cheek, and I closed my eyes tightly with pain. “You don’t have anything to prove. Not to this town. Not to me. Nobody.”
“Drumming was the only thing that I was ever good at.”
“That’s simply not true. But even if you were the loser you have so pictured in your head, you still don’t need to do anything to earn love. I’m so thankful to have you as a son, so thankful I got to raise you. I’m sorry you had to deal with such cruelty when you were younger because I-I was your only parent, and we looked so different. It broke my heart, and I’m sure you only shared a fraction of it.” Her eyes filled with tears, making my own burn.
“This is not your fault. Teens can sniff out insecurities like hound dogs and they abused my feelings of feeling different. Vander and you kept me mostly protected.”
“You can’t live your life hiding from the bullies. Why is it so easy for you to believe that you deserve the bad and not the good?” she asked.
“I think there’s just something wrong with me,” I admitted.
“That voice is a lie. You have to show it it’s wrong. Time and time again, when it comes back, you show it that it’s wrong. That voice is the biggest bully, and the call is coming from inside the house.”
I huffed. “But being the weird kid with the regrettable fashion and a terrible sense of humor is so intertwined with my identity, I think it still messes with me. Saying it out loud feels so absurd.”
“Somewhere along the way, you learned that your only value to people is what you can do for them or your rock star reputation. Even without the big house and being taken care of, I would still love you and still be proud of you because of who you are at your core. Not because of the band or the touring or what that success has meant for me. You are anything but a failure, Leo. You cannot be a failure when you love so fiercely. You just have to show up for it. You can’t hide away the second things get hard.”
I nodded at the table.
“The day they called and said you were born was the greatest day of my life. When I went to get you, it felt like you chose me. Your love has never, ever been a burden or something you need to earn. There isn’t a single person who loves you for what you do for them.” She stood, and I did too, towering over her. She hugged me, and I held on tight to her.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, throat tight.
“A mom always knows. Please don’t let the bully in your mind let Mari go,” she said. “Not if you love her.”
“I do love her. I want to tell her. God, I messed up today.”
“That girl has had a rough life. She’s all alone and works too hard. I will never understand that family of hers. And those wounds are deep. Just like yours. She’ll do whatever it takes to protect herself from hurt if she thinks you aren’t going to stick around.”
Shame made me nauseous. She’d been trying to open up to me today, and I couldn’t hear it. I had been so stupid.
“What can I do?” I asked.
“Go big or go home. What’s something you never thought you’d ever do for her?” Janice asked.
“Aside from use Roundup on my garden?”
She tutted and swatted my arm. “Bigger.”
An idea percolated. Mari needed a big sign that I wasn’t going anywhere. I believed that she loved me as much as I loved her. It was time I left the safety of my house. And for once, it didn’t feel scary because nothing was scarier than the idea of Mari feeling alone and unloved.
“Oh, man. I have an idea, but I need your help. How do you feel about coming briefly out of retirement?” I asked.
“Lucky for you, I have consultant rates available.”
“Do you think you could call up the Bunco Broads? I need the power of those women.”
“Oh, they live for this sort of thing.” My mother grinned and rubbed her hands together.