The Rosie Effect Page 89

‘You think my input would be in opposition to yours?’ Claudia had been right. Rosie wanted a perfect new relationship without interference.

Rosie walked to the kitchen and activated the kettle. The hot-chocolate cycle was commencing for the night. I spent the time trying to construct an argument that would keep Rosie in New York. Approximately six minutes passed before she returned to the living-room zone.

‘Maybe we wouldn’t disagree on anything. That’d be a problem too. I have no other role now except to be a mother. And you’d just keep walking in and doing it better. Part-time. Trying not to be a fuck-up as a mother is hard enough without having a partner who reminds me every time I get it wrong.’

‘Maybe I can transfer my knowledge to you rather than apply it directly.’

‘No! Maybe I’m being too nice. I’m making you sound like Superdad, but there’s more to being a parent than theory. Babies need more than the nappy being folded the right way.’

‘You’re definitely going home? Without me?’

‘Don, I didn’t want to bring it up, but I told you: there’s someone else. It’s the hardest decision I’ve ever made. I did a spreadsheet.’

34

We slept in the same bed again, for what I expected would be the last time. Sex did not seem appropriate, especially considering the existence of ‘someone else’, and we were both extremely tired. I had vast amounts of confusing information to process, and I knew that there was no point beginning until my head was clear again. There was no longer any urgency. I would conduct a post-project review in due course.

‘I can’t face Dave and Sonia,’ Rosie said in the morning. ‘I’ll stay here. Judy’s picking me up at ten.’

This was the second goodbye to Rosie, after my original departure for Dave’s. The research I had read earlier indicated that complicated separations generated more pain. My experience supported it.

Rosie was packing up her study when I returned from my scheduled run. She looked extremely beautiful, as always, but her new shape contributed an additional dimension.

‘Is it still moving around?’ I asked.

‘I’d be worried if it wasn’t.’

‘I mean right now.’

‘Not right now. A few minutes ago.’

I was conflicted. I knew, from talking to Dave, that someone who was exactly average would have wanted strongly to feel the baby under development ‘kicking’. I didn’t. There were three possible reasons:

1. If it turned out to be a powerful emotional experience, I would be increasing the pain I would feel at Rosie leaving. If Dave or another average person was in the same circumstance, he might well have reached the same conclusion.

2. I was still in some form of denial that an actual baby existed, relating back to the lack of planning. Feeling it move would act in opposition to that comfortable denial.

3. My natural aversion to body contact with strangers. Rosie had slept with me the previous night, but there had been a definite change in our relationship.

I knew that I might influence Rosie’s opinion of me if I acted differently, but the behaviour would be deceptive. Instead, I behaved with integrity—as myself.

‘Can I have a copy of your spreadsheet?’ I asked. My best chance was that she had made an error.

Gene and I went to see Sonia in the hospital. He had not met Sonia prior to the previous evening, but his motivation made sense.

‘We’re there for Dave. Men hand out cigars because they need something to do. There’s stuff-all to do for the first six months. And don’t talk to me about bonding. If Dave’s expecting the baby to throw its arms around him and say “dada,” he’ll be waiting a while.’

Gene’s advice was in line with what I had read. Males were advised to assist with domestic chores, work that could easily be subcontracted, particularly in a country which had a low minimum wage. Dave’s focus on working at his profession, earning a higher hourly income, was rational.

‘Where’s Rosie?’ asked Sonia as soon as we arrived. The baby was sleeping in a crib in a dormitory, while Sonia had a private room. Dave was due to arrive once he finished a job, but he had already viewed the baby. It had no apparent faults and its appearance would not change substantially on a day-to-day basis.

‘Unfortunately, no change in status. In fact, separation has been confirmed. Rosie is on her way home to Australia.’

‘No! Why? What you did for me—you guys were such a great team.’

Sonia’s logic was faulty. According to it, professionals working on a common project would transition into permanent relationships. Obviously this happened sometimes, but it was insufficient in our case.

The discussion was interrupted by the arrival of a nurse carrying a baby, which I assumed was Sonia and Dave’s. I was well aware from the Antenatal Uproar that social convention took precedence over maximising immunity through the sharing of breast milk.

Sonia commenced the nutrition and immunity-improving process.

‘So what happened?’ she said, once the baby was attached. ‘With you and Rosie? If it’s Lydia, I’m going to report her. Seriously.’

Sonia was an accountant. She would understand the logic of decision-making. I took Rosie’s spreadsheet from my pocket and gave it to her. She held it with one hand while steadying the baby with the other. I was impressed with her proficiency after such a short period.

‘My God, you guys are both nuts,’ she said. ‘Which is why you should be together.’ She looked at the spreadsheet for a few more seconds. ‘What’s this about already purchased the air ticket?’

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