A Man Named Dave

you … ?”
    “Because that’s all I had!” I cried. “I got nothing else! It’s all I am! It’s all I’ve ever known. If I quit back then, once, for just a second … it could have been all over. I got nothing else, all my life …”
    Falling to the deck, Marsha said, “I know, I know, baby, I know.” Reaching over to cradle my head against her chest, she whispered, “You made that choice. Your mother made hers. It’s not your fault. It wasn’t your doing. She gave up on herself a long, long time ago. She quit – on her son, her family, everything she had, she quit. No one could have saved her, least of all her own baby that she treated like an animal. She was a broken woman long before you came into her life. You’ve got to give her up. It’s not your doing. You deserve, Dave, you deserve to be free.”
    “I could have –” I protested.
    “No!” Marsha shouted. “Tell me, tell yourself, what was the one thing you could have possibly done to prevent her self-destruction?”
    “Been a better son? I dunno.” I shook my head. “I just don’t know.”
    “You’re a good son now, and you always have been. No matter what happens to us, for your own peace of mind, after all your years of searching, you need to understand, it wasn’t your doing.”
    Feeling the pressure beginning to ease, I stammered, “It’s just, I feel my entire – and I mean my entire life, since I was a kid – it’s like I saw everything swirling around me, and somehow I allowed things to take over, to take control of me because I never felt I deserved anything but that. My marriage, the firm in Lincoln, I deserve what I got. That’s why I couldn’t tell Patsy or anyone else. That’s why I tried to bury the dirt; that’s why I eat crap every day of my life. I don’t deserve any better.
    “I know there’s nothing I could have done to stop her, but that doesn’t help, doesn’t stop it from gnawing at me every day. And because of that I feel so undeserving, especially when it comes to you. You’re too pure.”
    I let out a deep breath. “I can’t do it anymore. I’m just tired, tired of swimming against the tide, proving myself … I’m tired.”
    “After all you’ve been through, no matter what happens to us, Dave, you deserve everything life has to offer. I’m so proud of you, I could just bust. You’re the most inspirational person I know. You’re my Robin Williams and Jimmy Stewart rolled into one. And I’m not saying that because I’ve got some schoolgirl crush on you. No matter what, you’re precious to me. No matter what, with all my heart, I believe. I believe in you, Dave Pelzer. You’re my best friend. Okay,” Marsha sighed, “I can see where you can drive people crazy, only because you want to do your best. But, Dave, you deserve, we deserve to give each other a chance. I’m not going to smother you or trick you into anything. With my hand on the Bible, if I live to be a hundred, if I know one thing: it’s that we deserve – we deserve to be together.”
    Wiping away my tears, I locked onto Marsha’s tear-filled eyes. “I’m your best friend?”
    “Why do you think I came to see you?” she asked.
    Closing my eyes, I shook off my fear of intimacy, and I stripped away my last protective layer. “When I’m with you, Marsha … I feel clean. You ease my shame.”
    “And you’re my white knight. Together, back to back, we can do anything, Dave,” Marsha cried. “Can’t you see that all I want is to be with you?”
    My insides became unglued. As much as I had tried to drive Marsha away, my heart ached for her to stay. With my anxiety spent and my heart bursting, I wrapped my arms around Marsha’s waist with my head bent in her lap. “I’ll never deserve you. You’re my best friend. I love you. You’re the one, Marsha. The only one … the only one I trust.”

15 – All Good Things
    Now, this was completely different. Marsha stood with her back toward my chest, venting about the demands placed on her from the day, while I tried to calm her down by pleading for her not to take work so seriously. I had my reasons to get her mind off work, but whenever I tried to veer Marsha off the subject, it only seemed to intensify her passion.
    But that was one of the many things I loved about Marsha: her steadfast commitment. Months after meeting in California, Marsha had given up her job as an editor and moved to Guerneville – not only to be close to me, but to take over and manage my business. Since Marsha knew me like no other, and because of the respect we had for each other,