“And did they?” Dr. Grind asked, understanding a little too late for it to matter.
She nodded. “That’s how I knew about the Gipsons and the Tiltons. And Kalina and Jeffrey will now be leading their own Infinite Families, the pilot programs. It’s an incredible opportunity for them.”
“What about Jill?” Preston asked.
Patricia shook her head. “I’m afraid that she doesn’t entirely fit the model for our future goals.”
Preston nodded and then tapped his desk, as if expecting it to be made entirely of smoke, as if the whole complex was a dream. “I appreciate your honesty, I do, Patricia. How long do I have until the project is shut down?”
“Well, I have to get back to Knoxville. I’ll send you more information, but I think you’ll be more than happy with the provisions that I’ve included, not just for you but for the entire family. And, Preston, I do think you made something truly unique. I do admire you, whether you believe me or not.”
She stood and, without waiting for Dr. Grind to acknowledge her, walked out of the office. Dr. Grind went to the large window that looked over the entrance to the building and watched until Patricia Acklen had returned to her car and it pulled away, disappearing from view.
When he turned around, Jill was standing before him.
“Do you know?” she asked, and Preston only nodded.
“I told them to fuck off,” Jill said, smiling through her tears. “She called me a few days ago to tell me that she wanted me to head up one of the new projects.”
“You told Patricia Acklen to fuck off?” Preston asked.
Jill nodded. “I don’t have any interest in helping rich people further the gap between them and poor people. I don’t think they need more ways to improve their situations. This whole project was set up to help people in need, to help children develop in ways they wouldn’t have otherwise. These Infinite Family gated communities are going to be status symbols, a way for rich people to separate themselves from other rich people. I didn’t get into this to make money. I did it to, you know, help fucking kids.”
“And Jeffrey? Kalina?”
“They’re in. They’re totally in. I don’t blame them; well, I guess I do, but I love them so much I’m willing to forgive them. It’s a lot of money, Preston. It’s a really good gig for them, I guess. Whatever.”
It was as if the ground beneath him kept opening up, always yet another level before hitting the very bottom. He wondered how easy it was for Kalina and Jeffrey to accept, if there was even hesitation. He thought of their recent interactions and could find no trace of secrecy or weirdness. And yet these were the people he had assembled, had entrusted with so much, passing him by without a word. They had spent this time spying on him, on the family, silently separating themselves from the project, knowing that soon they would have their own family to watch over.
Jeffrey’s decision he could almost anticipate, the single-mindedness he brought to the work; why would he turn it down if offered the chance to run his own project? But Kalina? He could not quite numb the pain of that betrayal. He thought of his fight to keep her as a part of the family; she had always been the most supportive of the fellows, the one most fervent about the possibilities of the project. And that, perhaps, was why, when threatened with losing it, she chose the project over him.
He could not imagine what he would say to them when he next saw them, how he could communicate the loss he was feeling.
“Thank you, Jill,” Dr. Grind said.
“Did we outlive our usefulness?” she asked him. “Do these families not need us anymore?”
“Maybe not,” Dr. Grind admitted. “But it’s not over. It doesn’t end, right? It keeps going after they leave us.”
“They’re still going to be our family after they leave,” Jill said. “It’s nice to believe that, isn’t it?”
“I do believe it, Jill.”
“Then you’re a good person, Dr. Grind,” Jill said. “You’ve always been the best parent.”
She hugged him and he held her as she sobbed.
“Okay,” she finally said, pushing away from him. “This is when I walk back to my apartment, get extremely high, and watch TV until I pass out.”
“That’s a good plan,” Dr. Grind said.
“It was nice while it lasted,” Jill admitted. “I guess now we have to do the next thing.”
“What’s that?” Dr. Grind asked her, genuinely curious.
“Start our own families,” she said, walking away.
And perhaps that would be easy for Jill and her partner, to embark on something that, for Preston, had ended in abject failure. But he could not figure out where to go from here, how to build something else.
All he could do, in the brief time that was afforded him, was hold on to what he had made and hope that, years from now, they would all remember him with something that resembled love.
chapter seventeen