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I swallow hard and look around the table. Despite his words, I can see the fear on their faces. They’re worried I’m going to say that I want to take the money and run. That I want to close the commune and the retreat, which would essentially leave them all homeless.
I’m not surprised they’re afraid. Many of them have been here over thirty years. They’ve built what they thought was a solid foundation for a place to live and bring up their children, formed around a common purpose and ideology, which is basically that if we pull together, we can achieve more than if we work alone.
What my father did hasn’t destroyed that. All he did was prove that he was human.
I look at Kingi, who’s frowning, but who smiles briefly as he sees my gaze fall on him. Then I look at Orson. He’s not wearing a suit, and instead has donned dark chinos and a navy shirt. He wanted to dress down to put the Elders at ease. He’s a smart guy who knows how to read a room.
He’s offered to pay off my father’s debt and make sure that Kahukura is safe and secure for the foreseeable future. If it’s what I want.IfI decide to stay. Again, he’s leaving the choice in my hands. He’s not pressuring me to leave. Quite the opposite, really. If I stay, it means the divide will remain between us, because even if the commune does become an intentional community, our ideologies will always be different.
But I have to put aside my personal feelings right now. I have to decide what’s best for the people in this room, for the members of the commune, and for the women and children who come to the retreat.
And there’s not really a decision to be made, is there?
“Can I borrow your pen?” I ask Kingi.
There’s a collective intake of breath around the table. Kingi picks it up and passes it to me. What a shock—it’s a Montblanc. Ana has a thing for stationery, and she showed me their website once. I remember this one—it’s a limited-edition Muhammed Ali pen. I swear it was worth seven thousand dollars.
I slide off the cap, turn it in my fingers, then sign on the dotted line.
Then I glance up at Orson, who smiles.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Orson
After Scarlett signs the contract, the Elders want to talk to Scarlett about the allocation of the new funds. Kingi and I have no more to contribute, so we tell them we’ll leave them to it and pack up our briefcases.
Scarlett rises with us, informs them she’ll be back shortly, and accompanies us out.
Outside, the sun is heading for the horizon, and the commune is bathed in a marmalade light, thick and a deep yellow-orange. The solar lights around the duck pond and outside the buildings have come on, and the place glows in the peace of the dusky evening.
“I wanted to say thank you,” Scarlett says to Kingi. “For everything you’ve done.”
“I’m sorry for any distress it’s caused you,” he replies.
“It’s better to know the truth,” she says. “Red pill, right?”
He nods. “Always.” He glances at me. “I’ll see you back at the club?”
“Yeah, I’ll head over shortly.”
He smiles at Scarlett, then heads off to his car.
I look back at Scarlett. She has dark shadows under her eyes, so I don’t imagine she got much sleep last night. But I’m thrilled that she’s signed the papers. It means she’s not going to sell up, close the commune, and flee. It means she’s probably staying.
“Thank you,” she says, looking into my eyes. “For your incredibly generous donation.”
“You’re welcome. You run a worthwhile cause here. We should have included you ages ago.”
“Your father signed the papers?”
“Yes—all members have to agree to every donation.”
“I know he said he wanted to let go of his resentment, but I have to admit, I didn’t think he’d be able to.”
“He said that the way you forgave him for his behavior that night convinced him. And also the fact that I told him I love you.” I smile.
She blinks up at me. “You can’t say that. We’ve hardly dated at all.”