๎e next morning, I returned with some relief to the routine that had been so severely disrupted over the preceding two days. My Tuesday,ย ๎ursday, and Saturday runs to the market are a feature of my schedule, combining exercise, meal-ingredients purchase, and an opportunity for re๏ฌection. I was in great need of the last of these.
A woman had given me her phone number and told me to call her. More than the Jacket Incident, the Balcony Meal, and even the excitement of the potential Father Project, this had disrupted my world. I knew that it happened regularly: people in books, ๏ฌlms, and TV shows do exactly what Rosie had done. But it had never happened to me. No woman had ever casually, unthinkingly, automatically, written down her phone number, given it to me, and said, โCall me.โ I had temporarily been included in a culture that I considered closed to me. Although it was entirely logical that Rosie should provide me with a means of contacting her, I had an irrational feeling that, when I called, Rosie would realize that she had made some kind of error.
I arrived at the market and commenced purchasing. Because each dayโs ingredients are standard, I know which stalls to visit, and the vendors generally have my items prepackaged in advance. I need only pay.ย ๎e vendors know me well and are consistently friendly.
However, it is not possible to time-share major intellectual activity with the purchasing process, owing to the quantity of human and inanimate obstacles: vegetable pieces on the ground, old ladies with shopping carts, vendors still setting up stalls, Asian women comparing prices, goods being delivered, and tourists taking photos of each other in front of the produce. Fortunately I am usually the only jogger.
On the way home, I resumed my analysis of the Rosie situation. I realized that my actions had been driven more by instinct than logic.ย ๎ere were plenty of people in need of help, many in more distress than Rosie, and numerous worthy scienti๏ฌc projects that would represent better use of my time than a quest to ๏ฌnd one individualโs father. And of course, I should be giving priority to the Wife Project. Better to push Gene to select more suitable women from the list, or to relax some of the less important selection criteria, as I had already done with the no-drinking rule.
๎e logical decision was to contact Rosie and explain that the Father Project was not a good idea. I phoned at 6:43 a.m. on returning from the run and left a message for her to call back. When I hung up, I was sweating despite the fact that the morning was still cool. I hoped I wasnโt developing a fever.
Rosie called back while I was delivering a lecture. Normally, I turn my phone o๏ฌย at such times, but I was anxious to put this problem to bed. I was feeling stressed at the prospect of an interaction in which it was necessary for me to retract an o๏ฌer. Speaking on the phone in front of a lecture theater full of students was awkward, especially as I was wearing a lapel microphone.
๎ey could hear my side of the conversation. โHi, Rosie.โ
โDon, I just want to say thanks for doing this thing for me. I didnโt realize how much it had been eating me up. Do you know that little co๏ฌee shop across from the Commerce BuildingโBaristaโs? How about two oโclock tomorrow?โ
Now that Rosie had accepted my o๏ฌer of help, it would have been immoral, and technically a breach of contract, to withdraw it.
โBaristaโs, two p.m. tomorrow,โ I con๏ฌrmed, though I was temporarily unable to access the schedule in my brain because of overload.
โYouโre a star,โ she said.
Her tone indicated that this was the end of her contribution to the conversation. It was my turn to use a standard platitude to reciprocate, and the obvious one was the simple re๏ฌection of โYouโre a star.โ But even I realized that made no sense. She was the bene๏ฌciary of my starness in the form of my genetics expertise. On re๏ฌection, I could have just said โGood-byeโ or โSee you,โ but I had no time for re๏ฌection.ย ๎ere was considerable pressure to make a timely response.
โI like you too.โ
๎e entire lecture theater exploded in applause.
A female student in the front row said, โSmooth.โ She was smiling. Fortunately I am accustomed to creating amusement inadvertently.
I did not feel too unhappy at failing to terminate the Father Project.ย ๎e amount of work involved in one DNA test was trivial.
We met at Baristaโs the next day at 2:07 p.m. Needless to say, the delay was Rosieโs fault. My students would be sitting in their 2:15 p.m. lecture waiting for my arrival. My intention had been only to advise her on the collection of a DNA sample, but she seemed unable to process the instructions. In retrospect, I was probably o๏ฌering too many options and too much technical detail too rapidly. With only seven minutes to discuss the problem (allowing one minute for running to the lecture), we agreed that the simplest solution was to collect the sample together.
โข โข โข
We arrived at the residence of Dr. Eamonn Hughes, the suspected father, on the Saturday afternoon. Rosie had telephoned in advance.
Eamonn looked older than I had expected. I guessed sixty, BMI twenty-three. Eamonnโs wife, whose name was Belinda (approximately ๏ฌfty-๏ฌve, BMI twenty-eight), made us co๏ฌee, as predicted by Rosie.ย ๎is was critical, as we had decided that the co๏ฌee-cup rim would be an ideal source of saliva. I sat beside Rosie, pretending to be her friend. Eamonn and Belinda were opposite, and I was ๏ฌnding it hard to keep my eyes away from Eamonnโs cup.
Fortunately, I was not required to make small talk. Eamonn was a cardiologist and we had a fascinating discussion about genetic markers for cardiac disease. Eamonn ๏ฌnally ๏ฌnished his co๏ฌee and Rosie stood up to take the cups to the kitchen.ย ๎ere, she would be able to swab the lip of the cup and we would have an excellent sample. When we discussed the plan, I suggested that this would be a breach of social convention, but Rosie assured me that she knew Eamonn and Belinda well as family friends, and as a younger person, she would be allowed to perform this chore. For once, my understanding of social convention proved more accurate. Unfortunately.
As Rosie picked up Belindaโs cup, Belinda said, โLeave it, Iโll do it later.โ Rosie responded, โNo, please,โ and took Eamonnโs cup.
Belinda picked up my cup and Rosieโs and said, โOkay, give me a hand.โ
๎ey walked out to the kitchen together. It was obviously going to be di๏ฌcult for Rosie to swab Eamonnโs cup with Belinda present, but I could not think of a way of getting Belinda out of the kitchen.
โDid Rosie tell you I studied medicine with her mother?โ asked Eamonn.
I nodded. Had I been a psychologist, I might have been able to infer from Eamonnโs conversation and body language whether he was hiding the fact that he was Rosieโs father. I might even have been able to lead the conversation in a direction to trap him. Fortunately we were not relying on my skills in this arena. If Rosie succeeded in collecting the sample, I would be able to provide a far more reliable answer than one derived from observations of behavior.
โIf I can o๏ฌer you a little encouragement,โ Eamonn said, โRosieโs mother was a bit wild in her younger days. Very smart, good-looking, she could have had anyone. All the other women in medicine were going to marry doctors.โ He smiled. โBut she surprised us all and picked the guy from left ๏ฌeld who persisted and stuck around.โ
It was lucky I wasnโt looking for clues. My expression must have conveyed my total lack of comprehension.
โI suspect Rosie may follow in her motherโs footsteps,โ he said.
โIn what component of her life?โ It seemed safer to seek clari๏ฌcation than assume that he meant getting pregnant by an unknown fellow student or dying.ย ๎ese were the only facts I knew about Rosieโs mother.
โIโm just saying I think youโre probably good for her. And sheโs had a rough time. Tell me to mind my own business if you like. But sheโs a great kid.โ
Now the intent of the conversation was clear, although Rosie was surely too old to be referred to as a kid. Eamonn thought I was Rosieโs boyfriend. It was an understandable error. Correcting it would necessarily involve telling a lie, so I decided to remain silent.ย ๎en we heard the sound of breaking crockery.
Eamonn called out, โEverything okay?โ โJust broke a cup,โ said Belinda.
Breaking the cup was not part of the plan. Presumably, Rosie had dropped it in her nervousness or in trying to keep it from Belinda. I was annoyed at myself for not having a backup plan. I had not treated this
project as serious ๏ฌeldwork. It was embarrassingly unprofessional, and it was now my responsibility to ๏ฌnd a solution. It would surely involve deception, and I am not skilled at deception.
My best approach was to source the DNA for a legitimate reason. โHave you heard about the Genographic Project?โ
โNo,โ said Eamonn.
I explained that with a sample of his DNA we could trace his distant ancestry. He was fascinated. I o๏ฌered to have his DNA processed if he organized a cheek scraping and sent it to me.
โLetโs do it now, before I forget,โ he said. โWill blood do?โ โBlood is ideal for DNA testing, butโโ
โIโm a doctor,โ he said. โGive me a minute.โ
Eamonn left the room, and I could hear Belinda and Rosie speaking in the kitchen.
Belinda said, โSeen your father at all?โ โNext question,โ said Rosie.
Belinda instead responded with a statement. โDon seems nice.โ Excellent. I was doing well.
โJust a friend,โ said Rosie.
If she knew how many friends I had, she might have realized what a great compliment she had paid me.
โOh well,โ said Belinda.
Rosie and Belinda returned to the living room at the same time as Eamonn with his doctorโs bag. Belinda reasonably deduced that there was some medical problem, but Eamonn explained about the Genographic Project. Belinda, who was a nurse, took the blood with professional expertise.
As I handed the ๏ฌlled tube to Rosie to put in her handbag, I noticed her hands were shaking. I diagnosed anxiety, presumably related to the imminent con๏ฌrmation of her paternity. I was not surprised when she asked, only seconds after leaving the Hughesโs residence, if we could process the DNA sample immediately. It would require opening the lab on a Saturday evening but at least the project would be completed.
โข โข โข
๎e laboratory was empty: throughout the university, the archaic idea of working Monday to Friday results in an incredible underutilization of
expensive facilities.ย ๎e university was trialing analysis equipment that could test for parent-child relationships very quickly. And we had an ideal DNA sample. It is possible to extract DNA from a wide variety of sources and only a few cells are needed for an analysis, but the preparatory work can be time-consuming and complex. Blood was easy.
๎e new machine was located in a small room that had once been a tearoom with sink and refrigerator. For a moment I wished it had been more impressiveโan unusual intrusion of ego into my thoughts. I unlocked the refrigerator and opened a beer. Rosie coughed loudly. I recognized the code and opened one for her also.
I tried to explain the process to Rosie as I set up, but she seemed unable to stop talking, even as she used the scraper on her inner cheek to provide me with her DNA sample.
โI canโt believe itโs this easy.ย ๎is quick. I think Iโve always known at some level. He used to bring me stu๏ฌย when I was a kid.โ
โItโs a vastly overspeci๏ฌed machine for such a trivial task.โ
โOne time he brought me a chess set. Phil gave me girly stu๏ฌโjewelry boxes and shit. Pretty weird for a personal trainer when you think about it.โ
โYou play chess?โ I asked.
โNot really.ย ๎atโs not the point. He respected that I have a brain. He and Belinda never had any kids of their own. I have a sense that he was always around. He might even have been my mumโs best friend. But Iโve never consciously thought of him as my father.โ
โHeโs not,โ I said.
๎e result had come up on the computer screen. Job complete. I began packing up.
โWow,โ said Rosie. โEver thought of being a grief counselor?โ
โNo. I considered a number of careers, but all in the sciences. My interpersonal skills are not strong.โ
Rosie burst out laughing. โYouโre about to get a crash course in advanced grief counseling.โ
It turned out that Rosie was making a sort of joke, as her approach to grief counseling was based entirely on the administration of alcohol. We went to Jimmy Watsonโs on Lygon Street, a short walk away, and as usual, even on a weekend, it was full of academics. We sat at the bar, and I was surprised to ๏ฌnd that Rosie, a professional server of drinks, had a very poor knowledge of wine. A few years ago Gene had suggested that wine was the
perfect topic for safe conversation and I did some research. I was familiar with the backgrounds of the wines o๏ฌered regularly at this bar. We drank quite a lot.
Rosie had to go outside for a few minutes because of her nicotine addiction.ย ๎e timing was fortunate, as a couple emerged from the courtyard and passed the bar.ย ๎e man was Gene!ย ๎e woman was not Claudia, but I recognized her. It was Olivia, the Indian vegetarian from Table for Eight. Neither saw me, and they went past too quickly for me to say anything.
My confusion at seeing them together must have contributed to my next decision. A waiter came up to me and said, โ๎ereโs a table for two thatโs just come free in the courtyard. Are you eating with us?โ
I nodded. I would have to freeze the dayโs market purchases for the following Saturday, with the resulting loss of nutrients. Instinct had again displaced logic.
Rosieโs reaction to ๏ฌnding a table being set for us on her return appeared to be positive. Doubtless she was hungry, but it was reassuring to know that I had not committed a faux pas, always more likely when di๏ฌerent genders are involved.
๎e food was excellent. We had freshly shucked oysters (sustainable), tuna sashimi (selected by Rosie and probably not sustainable), eggplant and mozzarella stack (Rosie), veal sweetbreads (me), cheese (shared), and a single serving of passion fruit mousse (divided and shared). I ordered a bottle of Marsanne and it was an excellent accompaniment.
Rosie spent much of the meal trying to explain why she wanted to locate her biological father. I could see little reason for it. In the past, the knowledge might have been useful to determine the risk of genetically in๏ฌuenced diseases, but today Rosie could have her own DNA analyzed directly. Practically, her stepfather Phil seemed to have executed the father role, although Rosie had numerous complaints about his performance. He was an egotist; he was inconsistent in his attitude toward her; he was subject to mood swings. He was also strongly opposed to alcohol. I considered this to be a thoroughly defensible position, but it was a cause of friction between them.
Rosieโs motivation seemed to be emotional, and while I could not understand the psychology, it was clearly very important to her happiness.
After Rosie had ๏ฌnished her mousse, she left the table to โgo to the bathroom.โ It gave me time to re๏ฌect and I realized that I was in the process of completing a noneventful and in fact highly enjoyable dinner with a woman, a signi๏ฌcant achievement that I was looking forward to sharing with Gene and Claudia.
I concluded that the lack of problems was due to three factors.
-
I was in a familiar restaurant. It had never occurred to me to take a womanโor indeed anyoneโto Jimmy Watsonโs, which I had only previously used as a source of wine.
-
Rosie was not a date. I had rejected her, comprehensively, as a potential partner, and we were together because of a joint project. It was like a meeting.
-
I was somewhat intoxicatedโhence relaxed. As a result, I may also have been unaware of any social errors.
At the end of the meal, I ordered two glasses of sambuca and said, โWho do we test next?โ
