The three of them sat on the couch and flipped through the album, Izzy shocked at how vividly she remembered nearly every image.
“You’re in hardly any of these pictures,” Cap said to Dr. Grind.
“Is that so?” Dr. Grind replied, seeming genuinely surprised by this observation.
“Not enough,” Cap said.
“We’ll remember you anyway,” Izzy told him, and Dr. Grind blushed before, as if by magic, it disappeared from his skin. He would not meet her gaze and instead said, “I have something for you, Cap,” as he awkwardly reached for the present on the floor.
“I don’t have to wait until tomorrow?” he asked, suspicious.
“You can open it now,” Izzy said.
He tore into the wrapping paper and then paused as he observed the black banjo case. “I know what this is going to be,” he said excitedly, and then flipped open the case to see a banjo that seemed both ancient and brand-new at the same time, so perfectly designed that even to Izzy’s untrained eye it seemed more expensive than a car.
“Awesome,” Cap shouted.
“It’s a Gibson Mastertone,” Dr. Grind informed him. “I went to Gruhn Guitars in Nashville, and they assured me that this banjo was worthy of someone of your talent.”
Cap plucked the strings and it sounded like pure silver, the tone so perfect that Izzy felt like it would reverberate for years if allowed to do so.
“It’s mine?” Cap asked.
Dr. Grind nodded.
“Thank you,” Cap said, hugging Dr. Grind as tightly as he could.
“It’s time for bed, sweetie,” Izzy said to Cap, who nodded.
“Can I bring this to bed with me?” he asked, and both Dr. Grind and Izzy nodded their approval.
“Merry Christmas to all,” Cap said, and then he kissed Izzy and went to his room.
Once he was gone, Izzy watched Dr. Grind, still smiling, his gift so well received.
“Do you want a cookie? Coffee?” she asked.
“No thank you,” he said. “I should get back.”
But before he could rise from the sofa, she grabbed him by the arm, as if pulling him underwater, sinking back into the Infinite Family, the one that would soon disappear.
“I love you,” she said.
Here he was, she thought, maybe the last chance that she would have. He was in her house, beloved by her son, so perfect for her. He was about to walk out of this house, back to his own lonely apartment, and she wanted only to hold on to this moment for as long as she possibly could. She wanted only to stretch this moment out into infinity.
“I’m going to say this once and I’ll never bring it up again. Everyone is going out into the world, or ready to do it. Every time the younger women and I get together at night, they all talk about what’s coming next, about getting their own house and having another kid even. And they can because, even when the project ends, they’ll still have a family. They’ll have each other. When it ends, it’s just going to be me out there, trying to find my way. And when this ends, it’ll just be you out there. And what will you do? Start up another project? Just do this for the rest of your life?”
“I don’t know, Izzy,” Dr. Grind remarked. “It’s hard to think about what comes after all this ends.” He paused, considered something for perhaps the hundredth time, and then said, “I suppose it was an act of pure hubris to call it The Infinite Family Project.”
“It wasn’t hubris. It was hope,” Izzy said. “And it won’t really end. Most of us, when we do discuss the end of it, already know we’re going to try to live in the same neighborhood, to move to Nashville and have our kids in the same school and spend vacations together. And that may fade with time, but I don’t think it will. I think we’ll be together for the rest of our lives, in some essential way, like any real family.”
“That’s reassuring,” Dr. Grind admitted. “It’s what I’d hoped for.”
“But,” Izzy said, her own coffee now finished, the table between them, “you’ll be alone when this ends. And I’ll be alone when this ends. And why should that be, Preston?”
“I don’t know,” Dr. Grind said, now looking at Izzy.
“I love you,” Izzy said. “I truly do.”
But Dr. Grind stood and began moving toward the door. He put his hand on the doorknob and then hesitated, his hand retreating as if a tiny static shock had moved through him. He turned back to her. “I love you, too,” he said.
“You do,” she said, feeling so certain of herself, so happy, thinking to herself, Yes, you do, goddamn it, wanting to hear him say it again, to make him her own.