The Rosie Effect
Page 76

Sensitivity to Partner’s Emotional Needs. See previous.
Reflective Functioning. As a scientist probably good, but the fact that I had been unable to find a solution to my relationship problem suggested I could not apply it to the domestic environment.
Social Supports. This was the only redeeming item in an otherwise disastrous list of shortcomings. My family was in Australia, but I was fortunate to have incredible support from Gene, Dave, George, Sonia, Claudia and the Dean. And, of course, I had professional help from Lydia.
Honesty was not included in the list, but was obviously a desirable attribute. I had hoped that when the Playground Incident was resolved, I could share it with Rosie. But it was an instance of weird behaviour, and weird behaviour was no longer acceptable.
I created a spreadsheet and it rapidly became obvious that the negatives outweighed the positives. As a potential father, I was manifestly unsuitable, and it was increasingly clear that I was no longer required in my role as a partner.
Further research confirmed that it was not unusual for relationships to fail during pregnancy or shortly after the birth. The woman’s attention naturally shifted to the baby, at the expense of the partner. Alternatively, the male partner wanted to avoid the responsibility of fatherhood. The first had definitely occurred in our case. And while I was willing to take on the responsibilities of fatherhood, I had been rated as incapable by both a professional therapist and my wife. And now by my own self-assessment.
My research provided some guidance on separation: better results were achieved by swift and definite action rather than prolonged discussion. This was consistent with the portrayal of relationship termination in two films I had watched during the Rosie Project: Casablanca and The Bridges of Madison County. In keeping with these films, I prepared a short speech of nine pages outlining the situation and the inevitability of my conclusion. It was emotionally painful work, but the process of articulating the argument helped to clarify it in my mind.
Jogging home, with the speech prepared, I allowed my thoughts to wander. I had spent sixteen months and three days married to Rosie. Falling in love with Rosie had been the single best event of my life. I had worked as hard as I could to maintain the situation, but—like Dave with Sonia—I had always suspected that there had been some sort of cosmic mistake that would be discovered and that I would be alone again. Now it had happened.
It was, of course, not the fault of the cosmos but of my own limitations. I had simply got too many things wrong, and the damage had accumulated.
I left work early to arrive home before Gene. Once again, Rosie was on the mattress. This time she was reading, but it was a formulaic romance novel of the kind my aunt read. I had made Rosie so unhappy that she was seeking relief in fantasy.
I began my speech. ‘Rosie, it seems obvious that things are not going well with us. There is some fault—’
She interrupted. ‘Don’t say any more. Don’t talk about faults. I was the one who got pregnant without talking to you. I think I know what you’re going to say. I’ve been thinking the same thing. I know how hard you’ve tried, but this relationship has always been about two independent people who had fun together, not about a conventional family.’
‘Why did you get pregnant then?’
‘I guess because having a baby is so important to me, and I had a fantasy that we could be parents together. I didn’t think it through.’
Rosie said more, but my ability to process speech, especially speech about emotions, had been impaired by my own emotions. I realised I had hoped that Rosie would disagree with me—possibly even laugh at some error in my thinking—and things would return to normal.
Finally she said, ‘What are we going to do?’
‘You indicated you would return to Australia,’ I said. ‘Obviously I will provide financial support for Bud as per convention.’
‘I mean, now. Can I stay here?’
‘Of course.’ I was not going to make Rosie homeless. She had no close friends in New York besides Judy Esler. And I did not want the Eslers to know about the separation yet. I still had an irrational hope that the problem would be resolved. ‘I’ll stay with Dave and Sonia. Temporarily.’
‘It won’t need to be long. I’ll book a flight home. Before they won’t let me fly.’
Rosie insisted it was too late to go to Dave’s that evening, so I slept at the apartment. In the middle of the night, I woke to hear her performing her hot-chocolate and bathroom ritual, then the door opened. In the light from the living room, which was never completely dark, she looked interesting, in an extremely positive way. Her shape had changed even further and I was disappointed not to have been able to monitor it through closer contact.
She was going to fly home. I would stay for a few days with Dave and Sonia and move back into the apartment alone. Perhaps I would also fly back to Australia at some stage. It made little difference. I am not particularly interested in my physical surroundings. I liked the job at Columbia, with David Borenstein, Inge, the B Team and, at least currently, Gene.
Somewhere in the world I would have a child, but my role would be little different from that of a sperm donor. I would send money to assist Rosie with the costs, and perhaps resume my cocktail-making job to supplement my income and social contact. Even in New York, I lived efficiently. My life would revert to the way it was prior to Rosie. It would be better for the changes Rosie had stimulated me to make and for the new ways I had of perceiving reality. It would be worse for knowing that it had once been even better.