called again on Valentine’s Day. Carolyn, whom I had tortured with Joey stories, begged me not to call him back. “Don’t do it,” she said. “Let him feel what it’s like to be lonely.” I tried my best, but it was goddamn Valentine’s Day. The holiday of hearts and flowers put fantasies in my head: maybe he was serious this time and had finally realized the error of his ways. I called his apartment and got the answering machine. My pulse quickened at the sound of his voice. “You’ve reached Joey and Lisa’s apartment, please leave a message.” I froze. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why was I so stupid when it came to men?
Carolyn later offered her own analysis while we engaged in one of our favorite activities: drinking white wine and smoking on the couch in John’s Tribeca loft, which she had moved into after George ’s launch in September 1995. “Falling in love would be like jumping off a cliff for you,” she said.
I didn’t find her words terribly encouraging. Who wants to be told that it’ll be hard for you to ever find love?
“Really, truly falling in love means trusting someone,” Carolyn said. “And the person you trust most in the world, Rosie, is yourself.”
She was right. I didn’t really trust anyone. Though Joey didn’t do much to change that fact, it wasn’t entirely his fault. I kept the cycle of makeups and breakups going, as if I could will the relationship to work. But Carolyn didn’t bullshit. Just as she didn’t tolerate my putting myself down, she couldn’t accept Joey’s poor treatment of me.
“You are never going to end up with Joey,” she said. “You need someone who is smart, funny, and most of all, somebody who you respect.” Carolyn poured me another glass of wine and said, “No relationship is perfect. John and I have our fights. You know how inconsiderate he can be.”
John’s insensitivity was the biggest catalyst of their arguments. Carolyn would decline invitations from friends because John said he was coming home for dinner. So she would wait and wait and wait, while he worked late and went to the gym (without letting her know), and then waltzed into the apartment way past dinnertime. Carolyn was not only angry but also worried about him, which she had a right to be. Another classic scenario was when he would spring important information on her at the last minute, such as “Oh, by the way, the Whitney benefit is in two days” or “I’m bringing home a friend for dinner . . . right now.” She wanted to know why the hell he didn’t tell her sooner. It wasn’t mean-spiritedness on his part. He was simply as disorganized and clueless as a kid. Still, it didn’t make scrambling to accommodate him any less frustrating.
“Sure, I want to kill him sometimes,” she said. “But I respect him.”
Things could get really heated between them; for example, he would go crazy when she was on the phone all day while he was trying to get through, getting busy signal after busy signal since they didn’t have call waiting; or it upset him when Carolyn, a big-sister type to many people, would spend an entire week dealing with someone else’s problems, which took her attention away from John. But no matter the issue, John and Carolyn always defused the situation with a joke. They never took anything so seriously that they couldn’t laugh at themselves. That, combined with the respect Carolyn had for John (and vice versa), took their relationship from dating to seeing each other three nights a week to living together within a year. The evolution was natural—and completely unlike my tortured dating life. It was hard to believe, but John and Carolyn were the normal ones.
CHAPTER
5
The press reported—over and over, well into their marriage—that when John asked Carolyn to marry him, she didn’t immediately say yes, as if there were strife in their relationship. But that’s not at all what happened.
When Carolyn called me on Monday
Carolyn later offered her own analysis while we engaged in one of our favorite activities: drinking white wine and smoking on the couch in John’s Tribeca loft, which she had moved into after George ’s launch in September 1995. “Falling in love would be like jumping off a cliff for you,” she said.
I didn’t find her words terribly encouraging. Who wants to be told that it’ll be hard for you to ever find love?
“Really, truly falling in love means trusting someone,” Carolyn said. “And the person you trust most in the world, Rosie, is yourself.”
She was right. I didn’t really trust anyone. Though Joey didn’t do much to change that fact, it wasn’t entirely his fault. I kept the cycle of makeups and breakups going, as if I could will the relationship to work. But Carolyn didn’t bullshit. Just as she didn’t tolerate my putting myself down, she couldn’t accept Joey’s poor treatment of me.
“You are never going to end up with Joey,” she said. “You need someone who is smart, funny, and most of all, somebody who you respect.” Carolyn poured me another glass of wine and said, “No relationship is perfect. John and I have our fights. You know how inconsiderate he can be.”
John’s insensitivity was the biggest catalyst of their arguments. Carolyn would decline invitations from friends because John said he was coming home for dinner. So she would wait and wait and wait, while he worked late and went to the gym (without letting her know), and then waltzed into the apartment way past dinnertime. Carolyn was not only angry but also worried about him, which she had a right to be. Another classic scenario was when he would spring important information on her at the last minute, such as “Oh, by the way, the Whitney benefit is in two days” or “I’m bringing home a friend for dinner . . . right now.” She wanted to know why the hell he didn’t tell her sooner. It wasn’t mean-spiritedness on his part. He was simply as disorganized and clueless as a kid. Still, it didn’t make scrambling to accommodate him any less frustrating.
“Sure, I want to kill him sometimes,” she said. “But I respect him.”
Things could get really heated between them; for example, he would go crazy when she was on the phone all day while he was trying to get through, getting busy signal after busy signal since they didn’t have call waiting; or it upset him when Carolyn, a big-sister type to many people, would spend an entire week dealing with someone else’s problems, which took her attention away from John. But no matter the issue, John and Carolyn always defused the situation with a joke. They never took anything so seriously that they couldn’t laugh at themselves. That, combined with the respect Carolyn had for John (and vice versa), took their relationship from dating to seeing each other three nights a week to living together within a year. The evolution was natural—and completely unlike my tortured dating life. It was hard to believe, but John and Carolyn were the normal ones.
CHAPTER
5
The press reported—over and over, well into their marriage—that when John asked Carolyn to marry him, she didn’t immediately say yes, as if there were strife in their relationship. But that’s not at all what happened.
When Carolyn called me on Monday
Similar Books
