“I’m in a car just outside the complex. Come meet me.”
Preston’s first instinct was to hide under his desk and hope that Patricia gave up and went back to Knoxville. But he knew, even from his limited exposure to Patricia Acklen, that she would never fucking leave until she got what she wanted. So he walked down the stairs and exited the building to find a BMW idling in front of the complex. As soon as he stepped outside, the driver got out of the car and opened the door for Patricia Acklen. She waved to him, the kind of limp wave that looked a lot like shooing something away. Preston, still shocked, could not even raise his hand to acknowledge her.
“My grandmother has died,” Patricia said once they had seated themselves back in his office, not a single pleasantry to blunt the impact of this statement. “She died two days ago, bless her, but we haven’t released any details to the media as of yet. It’s all being kept very quiet to respect my grandmother’s privacy. But we will be releasing the news tomorrow at three P.M. I’ve spent the last day and a half talking to people who worked with my grandmother, to let them know about this in advance.”
“I’m so sorry, Patricia,” Dr. Grind finally managed. “Brenda was an exceptional person. I’m honored that I got to know her.”
“She felt the same way about you, Dr. Grind, I can assure you,” Patricia said, some warmth now returning to her voice, the bad news delivered.
“I know what my grandmother said to you, regarding the project, as I was there that day and I have talked to her many times in the past year about the project, but I do believe there are ways that we can improve upon the initial work.”
“Whenever you’d like,” Preston replied. “Please know that we appreciate everything that Mrs. Acklen did for us here and how much we appreciate your support.”
Patricia looked at him for a brief moment, a strange smile on her face, as if she were listening to a song that he could not hear.
“You don’t know, do you?” Patricia finally asked him.
“Know what?” he asked.
“Dr. Grind,” she continued, “I have read about your upbringing, about your special capabilities when it comes to emotion and stress. And I honestly cannot read you. I admire that in you.”
“What do you mean?” Preston asked.
“I imagined that Jill might have said something,” she remarked, more to herself than to Preston.
“Dr. Grind,” Patricia continued, her voice lowering in volume, deliberate pauses between her sentences, “I know about the Gipson family and the Tilton family. I know they are no longer with you. And I’m a little sad that you did not deem that important enough to share with me.”
“I’m so sorry, Patricia,” Dr. Grind responded, not a sign in his voice that his body felt like it was falling off a cliff. “I’ve been trying, in my own way, to manage the fluctuations in our dynamic and I’ve not had time to focus on keeping you and your grandmother up-to-date.”
“My grandmother was content to sit back and let you run the project as you saw fit. I loved my grandmother, but we have slightly different ways of managing our assets. I believe very strongly in the Infinite Family, and, as a result, I want to make sure that it’s proceeding in a way that best represents my grandmother’s wishes.”
“Absolutely,” Dr. Grind agreed, realizing, because he was an intelligent enough person and because he was attuned to the uncertainties of all things, that he had officially lost control of his own project. He had imagined, for so long that he had accepted it as gospel, that these people were his family. That he had, somehow, brought this family together. But how had he made it happen? With Brenda Acklen’s money, with her complete and utter belief in what he was doing, even if he himself didn’t always know what he was doing. Now that she was dead, that would all change. He was a researcher and he was conducting an experiment. And the findings, which were being funded at a considerable expense, were not his property. At any moment, he realized, the family could be taken from him, which was worse, he decided, than if the family slipped away from him by his own failures.
“God bless you, Preston,” Patricia said. “I’m going to be entirely honest with you, because I think you deserve it. Even if you didn’t believe that I deserved that same honesty.”
Preston didn’t respond, though he had immediately wanted to thank her; against his better nature, he would not be polite in this moment.
“I’m ending this particular study, Dr. Grind,” Patricia finally said, not smiling, but it was clear to Preston that she was happy to finally say it out loud.
“Patricia,” Dr. Grind said. “It’s been almost seven years of nearly flawless work, so I don’t think it’s so easy to just call it quits at the first sign of disruption.”
“You really have no idea what’s going on, do you?” she asked. She seemed genuinely curious, her head tilting to properly observe his reaction.