Page 23 of Harts & Hurts

“Griffin Hart and I. He’s the other co-guardian.”

She sucked in an audible breath. “So you’re actually having to work with and co-parent with a Hart?”

She said it as if it were the biggest scandal since who shot 2Pac. I kept my voice neutral. “Yes. It was written in Ashlynn and Fisher’s will that Griffin and I assume custody of Melrose.”

“I mean, I heard that at the reading of the will, but I didn’t think it would stand. Everybody knows that Ashlynn was impulsive. She was the complete opposite of look before you leap. She was more like fools rush in. I⁠—”

“Did you call to insult my sister?” I cut her off. I wasn’t up for listening to anybody down talk my sister, especially not directly to me.

“No, of course not. She was my sister too. I was just saying that nobody expected a judge to take that part of the will into consideration.”

My eyes bugged in disbelief, even though she couldn’t see me. “Uh, their attorney did, Amber. And so did Griffin and I . . . and the judge.”

She ignored me. “So where are you now?”

Amberlyn had left right after the funeral. She wasn’t in attendance for the courtroom shenanigans on the day the judge made his final ruling.

“Jackson Island, South Carolina. The judge thought it best that Griffin and I cohabitate so that Melrose wasn’t being shifted back and forth between two different households and two different states.”

“And that alone wasn’t enough reason for you to turn down the guardianship and let her go to Mom?”

“There was no guarantee that she would end up with Mom. And the attorney told us that if Griffin and I didn’t take her, she would’ve been placed in foster care until a decision regarding custody was reached. You were right there when he said it, Amberlyn. You don’t remember that?”

“Girl, I don’t know. That entire thing is a blur. Grief is a bitch.”

“Yeah.” I didn’t hold it against her that she had blocked that period out. I wished I could’ve done the same.

“But let me get this straight. You’re living with a Hart? In his house?”

“Why do you keep saying Hart with the same disdain that the people in the bible used to say leper with? His last name is Hart, but at the end of the day, he’s a good guy. He’s nice. He’s respectful.”

“You sound like Ashlynn when she was describing Fisher.”

I smiled to myself. “Fisher was all of those things. He was so sweet.”

“I guess this younger brother is sweet too, huh? Next thing we know, you and this one will be sneaking off to get married, huh?”

“Ashlynn was a kid when she snuck off with Fisher. They were barely eighteen. I’m grown, grown. I’m not sneaking off nowhere with nobody. If I wanted to marry a Hart, I would marry him right in everybody’s faces. Right at First Church of Fort Jackson. I would have both our uncle Winston and his preacher uncle there. I would have them co-officiate, and whoever had a problem would just have a problem. But no. There are no plans in the works for Griffin and I to get married. Right now, we’re learning how to bathe Melrose without drowning her. We’re also learning how to create a bedtime routine. Next on the list after that is learning how to work a food processor so we can make her some homemade baby food. We’re not thinking about each other romantically. We’re just trying to do right by our niece and continue to keep her alive and, mostly, happy.”

The conversation with my sister left a nasty taste in my mouth, but I kept it to myself, choosing not to share any of it with Griffin. Ashlynn and Fisher thought the birth of Melrose would finally get the families to act right and stop with all the feuding. Well, Melrose was four months old, and my eldest sister still said The Harts like their name was synonymous with a terminal illness or something.

After breakfast, Gretta came by for her first morning visit. I was glad she came because she was able to accompany me to the community center. I wanted her to hear the descriptions of the classes that Brooklyn suggested and advise me on whether she thought they would benefit Melrose. She liked the sound of everything Brooklyn presented, so Melrose was signed up for one class each day, Monday through Friday.

After the community center, Gretta took me to Lockhart Boulevard, the street Griffin had mentioned specifically for shopping for Melrose. It was clearly Jackson Island’s version of Rodeo Drive or something because there were cute little high-end boutiques lining both sides of the street.

Since Gretta had come early, she ended up leaving before bath time. Griffin was home from work, so he spotted me and offered moral support while I bathed our niece.

“You did good as hell.” He encouraged me as I lifted her out of the water and wrapped her in the baby towel that had a hood attached to it.

“Thanks.” I smiled because I was proud of myself. “I think we’re doing okay with this baby thing. We’re definitely coming along.”

“Coming along? Girl, we’re crushing this shit.”

I had to laugh at his enthusiasm. He kept me company in the primary bedroom while I moisturized her small body, put a fresh diaper on her, and dressed her in an almost too small sleeper. “I’m glad you had me go shopping today. Look how her little toes are almost at the tip of this sleeper. She’s getting big.”

“How’d that go? Were you able to find everything?”

“Yeah. Gretta took me to some ritzy-titzy boutique on Lockhart Boulevard, and we overpaid for stuff she’ll only wear for a few months.”