A Man Named Dave

independent and in control of my own destiny. If I was going to fall on my face, I wanted it to be from my doing. And for me, the bonus of being self-employed was seeing Stephen. Since he lived nearly two hundred miles away, I could take time off that I normally could not in a regular job. I could make the three-hour drive to watch him play a late-night game of baseball, spend long weekends with him, or schedule my work around his time off from school. With each day, as scared as I was, the long hours were good therapy. Because Jerry had rarely returned clients’ calls who were interested in my programs, I now found myself with just enough work to survive. I knew things would work out, especially by the time I had saved enough money to purchase a cheap pedestal bed and a heating blanket. With each day I began to feel better about myself. But there was still one issue that needed closure.
    One morning after returning home from church, I prayed for guidance before calling Patsy. We met hours later. After being separated for over a year, I owed it to her to get everything off my chest. Patsy arrived wearing a nice outfit and had obviously spent extra time making up her face and hair. Her appearance reminded me of the Patsy I had known when we had first met. I exhaled deeply as I began to speak, but when I opened my mouth nothing came out. After several attempts I finally blurted, “I want you to know … how sorry I am.” Patsy’s eyes lit up. “I was wrong … in so many ways, and I beg for your forgiveness.”
    Patsy reached out to seize my hand. “Does this mean you’re ready to come back to … ?”
    “No,” I whispered. I turned my head down and away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you and give you the wrong impression.” I shook my head. “I can’t do that to you, to Stephen. I mean, we’d be okay for a while, but … I’d end up screwing everything up …” Without warning, my chest started to shudder. I felt light-headed, and I could feel myself about to slide off the chair.
    “David? David?” Patsy said. “Are you okay, what are … what are you saying?”
    Again with my head hung low, I shook my head.
    While Patsy and I sat in silence, around us people came in and out of the hotel lounge, ordering drinks, laughing, or watching the big-screen television.
    After several minutes an overwhelming pressure built up behind my eyes. Patsy’s expression told me not to say anything. “I owe you this much,” I wept. “I could have … I should have treated you better. I – I was scared, all the time, of what might happen next. It wasn’t your fault… I just couldn’t let you in, and for that I am truly sorry. I swear to God, I know what an ass I was, and I beg for your forgiveness. I drove you crazy, and every time you reached out… I shut you out. How could I love you? I mean really love you, when I hated myself?” I said, pounding my hand. “There are so many things I did wrong, and for that I can never forgive myself. I should have stopped and listened to what you were really trying to say. As much as I provided for you, I was never there for you.”
    “Well,” Patsy asked as she wiped her eyes, “I guess this means we’re through?”
    I bit my lip, and nodded.
    “Just say it,” Patsy pleaded. “Just tell me so I can go on. I can take it, be a man and tell me.”
    “Patsy,” I swallowed as I gazed into her eyes, “I’m not good enough to be your husband and I think we should … should divorce.”
    Patsy closed her eyes before nodding that she agreed. After dabbing a tissue to her eyes and adjusting her blouse, she smiled. “Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying.”
    “I’m flattered.” I laughed. “Really I am.”
    We spent the remainder of the afternoon addressing every issue we could think of. “You realize Stephen will live with me. I’m a homebody and you’re on the road too much. You can see or talk to him anytime you want. I’ll never use him as a pawn. I think you and I both know what that’s like. I won’t do that to our son.
    “The thing is,” Patsy went on, “for both of us Stephen was the best thing in our lives. I just wanted something more, that’s all.”
    “No matter what, I want to be friends,” I said. Patsy immediately nodded. “I mean it. I don’t have many friends, and I think we deserve to give each other that.” I stopped to take in a deep breath. “One more thing …”
    “Oh, my God!” Patsy gasped. “You’re not going to tell me you’re gay?”
    I coughed before I could reply. “No! What made you think