George was our de facto landlord. It seemed inadvisable to refuse him entry. I introduced him, took his wine and offered him a cocktail. By the time I returned with his martini, all of the guests were seated and George had started playing and singing. Disaster! It was 1960s-style music similar to that which Rosie had turned off earlier. I assumed George’s performance would be similarly unacceptable to young people.
I was wrong. Before I could think of a way of silencing George, Rosie’s guests were clapping and singing along. I focused on refilling drinks.
While George was playing, Gene arrived home. We had an apartment full of young people, a significant percentage of whom were unaccompanied women, disinhibited by alcohol. I was worried that he might behave inappropriately, but he went directly to his bedroom. I presumed his libido had been exhausted.
The party finished at 2.35 a.m. One of the last to leave was a woman who had introduced herself as Mai, age approximately twenty-four, BMI approximately twenty. We spoke together in the beer fridge while I selected liquor for her final cocktail.
‘You’re so not like what we were expecting,’ she said. ‘To be honest, we all thought you’d be some kind of geek.’
It was a notable milestone. Tonight, at least in this limited domain of social interaction, I had managed to convince a cool young person, and apparently her fellow students, even in the face of a preconception, that I was within the normal range of social competence. But I was concerned with how the preconception had arisen.
‘How did you deduce that I was a geek?’
‘We just thought—well, you’re with Rosie, the only person on the planet doing an MD and a PhD at the same time. And the way she just says what she thinks, how we’ve got to drag her into doing anything social…and then it’s like, oh yeah, I’m having a baby but let me get these stats done first. We thought she’d have gone for someone the same and here you are with the apartment and the cocktails and the muso buddy and the retro shirt.’
She sipped her cocktail.
‘This is awesome. Is it okay to ask, is she getting any help with the clinical thing?’
‘What clinical thing?’
‘Sorry. I’m sticking my nose in. But we’ve talked about it because we want to help. She’s so obviously using the pregnancy as a way out.’
‘Of what?’
‘Her clinical year. I mean she wants to do psych, and she’ll never have to touch a patient after next year if she can get some help to get through it. I gather there was some sort of trauma in her childhood—a car accident or something that’s freaked her out about emergency medicine.’
Rosie had been in the car when her mother was killed and Phil badly injured. It would seem reasonable that confronting the injuries of others might stimulate traumatic memories. But she had never said anything to me.
Inge asked to see me urgently on the Monday morning after the party, then offered to buy me coffee. ‘It’s more of a personal matter,’ she said.
I can see no logical reason why personal and social topics need to be discussed in a café and accompanied by beverages, whereas research topics can be discussed in both the work environment and in cafés. But we changed location and purchased coffee to enable the conversation to begin.
‘You were right about Gene. I should have listened to you.’
‘He attempted to seduce you?’
‘Worse. He says he’s in love with me.’
‘And that emotion is not reciprocated?’
‘Of course not. He’s older than my father. I thought of him as a mentor, and he treated me like an equal. But I never did anything to suggest... I can’t believe he got it so wrong. I can’t believe I got it so wrong.’
In the evening, I knocked on Rosie’s door and entered. I had expected she would be performing some task at her computer, but she was lying on the mattress. There was no book visible. The lack of distractions created an ideal opportunity to raise an important topic.
‘Mai told me there was some problem with clinical activities. A phobia about patient contact. Is this correct?’
‘Fuck. I told you, I’m dropping the medical program. The reasons don’t matter.’
‘You said you were deferring. David Borenstein—’
‘Fuck David Borenstein. I am deferring. Who knows, I may go back, I may not. Right now I’m a bit busy with exams and having a baby.’
‘Obviously if there is some obstacle preventing you from achieving a goal, you should investigate methods for overcoming it.’
I could empathise with Rosie, and was in a position to help. I had faced an almost identical situation when I switched my studies from computers to genetics. My revulsion at handling animals increased in proportion to the size of the animal. It was irrational but felt instinctual, hence difficult to overcome.
I undertook hypnotherapy, but attributed my cure to the Cat Rescue Incident, in which it had been necessary to save a housemate’s kitten which had jumped into the toilet—a doubly unpleasant task. I learned that I could create an intellectual separation from the physical sensation in an emergency. Once I knew the brain configuration, I was able to reproduce it well enough to dissect mice and assist in the delivery of a calf. I was confident that I could function in a medical emergency, and that I could coach Rosie to do so too.
I began to explain, but she stopped me. ‘Forget it, please. If I wanted to do it enough, I’d sort it out. I’m just not that interested.’
‘Do you want to see a play? Tonight?’
‘What play?’
‘It’s a surprise.’
‘So you haven’t bought tickets or anything. Haven’t you got stuff…scheduled?’
‘I’ve scheduled a play. For both of us. As a couple.’
‘Sorry, Don.’
I saw Gene next. He was also in his room lying on the bed. Our household was aggregately depressed.
‘Don’t say anything,’ he said. ‘Inge spoke to you, right?’
Gene had asked me not to speak, then asked a question that required me to answer. I decided that the latter overrode the former.
‘Correct.’
‘Christ, how do I face her? I’ve been a complete idiot.’
‘Correct. Fortunately she has been similarly imperceptive in failing to note that your interactions with her were aimed at seduction. I recommend—’
‘It’s okay, Don, I don’t need your advice on etiquette.’
‘Incorrect. I’m extremely experienced at dealing with embarrassment resulting from insensitivity to others. I’m an expert. I recommend an apology and admission that you are a klutz. I have recommended to her that she apologise for not making her position clear. She is similarly embarrassed. Nobody else knows except me.’
‘Thanks. Appreciate it.’
‘Do you want to go to a play? I have tickets,’ I said.
‘No, I’ll stay in, I think.’
‘Bad decision. You should come to the play with me. Otherwise you’ll reflect on your error but make zero progress.’
‘All right. What time?’
Don Tillman. Counsellor.
Before leaving, I prepared a meal for Rosie and put the other two serves in the fridge for Gene and me to eat later. I had a minor problem with managing the cling wrap, as a result of poor dispenser design. Rosie got up from the table and pulled out a new sheet.