Page 25 of Harts & Hurts

“Oh, good. That’s enough time for me to eat my breakfast and hit the bricks.”

Even Chef Nina chuckled. “Well, here’s a plate for you. Pancakes, turkey bacon, and breakfast potatoes. There’s some fresh fruit here too.”

“Sounds good.” I moved over to the cabinet, grabbed a plate, then filled it with food. The kitchen was too small to have even a breakfast nook, so Griffin and I ate all our meals at the island. I sat down at the island, poured a bit of syrup on my pancakes, said a quick prayer, and dug in. “So what do you and your mom have planned today?”

Griffin cleaned Melrose’s chin with the spoon as sweet potatoes dribbled down. “I don’t know. She said something about wanting to take Melrose to get pictures made or something.”

“That sounds like fun.” He eyed me, and the laughter I’d been fighting to hold in tumbled out. “Okay. Okay. That sounds like hell, but try to make the most of it. She’s your mom, and she’s still in the throes of mourning. Give her some grace.”

“Thanks for sayin’ that because I need to keep that at the forefront of my mind to keep from getting agitated with her.” He took a wet wipe and wiped Melrose’s face down. She kicked her feet, wiggled in the chair, and vocalized. “I know. That’s your grandmother,” he said to her. “I’ll be easy. I don’t want no smoke with you, Melli.” He kissed her cheek.

Chef Nina looked like she wanted to swoon, and truth be told, I wasn’t far behind. I enjoyed seeing Griffin be all soft and cuddly for our niece. There was something so sexy about watching a muscular man be gentle with a baby.

“What’re you doing today, other than avoiding my mother?”

I laughed. “They finally finished the plumbing work in all twenty bathrooms and in the kitchen. Tiling starts today, so I’ll be overseeing that. I still have a few light fixtures to pick out and some paint colors. I’ll be tied up all day.” I forked the last few pieces of pancake into my mouth and took my plate to the sink. “See you later, Nina.” I made my way over to Melrose and Griffin. I gave him a quick side hug, then removed Melrose from her high chair, kissed her repeatedly, then placed her back in the high chair. “Call me if you need me. See you later.”

Once I arrived at the main house, as Griffin and I always called it, my morning was a blur. Between verifying that the right tile for the right bathroom—there were four bathrooms and a powder room—was being laid in the proper way and deciding between ten different shades of white, time ticked by quickly. The only thing that made me look up was a phone call from Griffin right around noon.

“Hey. Good you called. It’s time for me to take a quick lunch break. How’re things going with your mom? Are y’all at JC Penney’s, getting pictures made?” I teased.

“Shut up.” He chuckled. “We just started lunch. Listen. I got a call from one of the execs at the network. They need me to come in for a few hours. My mom and them are gonna get a rideshare back to the house when they finish lunch.”

“Okay.” Even though there was more that I had hoped to get done, I couldn’t begrudge Griffin heading into work. He was the moneymaker in our household, and he was insanely generous with the money he made. I wouldn’t trip. “I’ll head over to the guesthouse in about thirty minutes.”

“Make it an hour.” He sighed. “I know you expected to have the whole day without Melrose, to work on the house. I apologize about⁠—”

I cut him off. “You don’t need to apologize, Griff. Go do what you have to do. Melli and I will be fine.” We had both taken to calling the baby some variation of Melrose. Most often, it was Melli, but it was also Melli Mel, Mel Girl, Mel Baby, and when she was full of boo-boo, Smelly Melli.

“Thanks. Later.”

I continued working and consulting with the contractor about any and everything that came to my mind. We spoke at length about how crown molding would not only create depth and interest in the home but how it could be used to hide strip lighting. I got so caught up in the conversation about the different styles of crown molding and how one over another would improve the look of the clean lines I was going for that an hour had gone by before I knew it. I said my goodbyes to the crew, then hustled over to the guesthouse to wait for Yolanda Hart to return with Melrose.

One hour turned into two hours, and there was no sign of my niece and her grandmother. Rather than bother Griffin at work, I chose to give her more time before alerting him that his mother had never returned with the baby. I didn’t want to think about the worst-case scenario, but the thought that my sister had recently lost her life in a vehicular accident was never far from my mind. Not being able to reach loved ones when you wanted to had become a trigger for me.

Right before I completely worked myself into a fit, I heard the sound of a car door slamming in the driveway. I heaved out a sigh of relief, all ready to forgive Mrs. Hart for causing me the scare she had caused.

I basically ran to the front door and swung it open. I was surprised by what I saw. Mrs. Hart carried a fussy Melrose while Marissa carried not only the baby bag but several shopping bags as well. I had not expected Marissa. Griffin never said anything about Marissa. Of all the Harts, living or deceased, she was my absolute least favorite. I was no big fan of her mother’s, but I disliked her even more.

“Shit,” I mumbled to myself before they were within earshot. “I hope they drop her off and go.” I plastered a cordial look on my face. I probably could’ve managed a smile if I hadn’t been waiting for them for more than three hours. “Hello.”

Mrs. Hart struggled as Melrose wiggled and fidgeted in her arms. Without even thinking about it, I reached out and took Melrose from her. She didn’t immediately settle when I took her, but she did seem to calm down.

“Hey.” Marissa greeted me with about as much warmth as I would’ve expected from her, which was absolutely none.

“Hello,” Mrs. Hart said. “That girl is little, but she gets heavy after a while.”

“She is a bit chunky.” I went to give Melrose a kiss on the cheek, which I did one hundred times a day, and I noticed that she shied away from me and whined. That was when I saw the shiny diamond earrings in her ears. The speed at which my heart rate started to race with no warning couldn’t have been healthy for me. But my mind knew that it couldn’t be processing what my eyes were seeing. When I left the house that morning, Melrose did not have pierced ears.

“Why are her ears pierced?” I asked, doing my best to maintain control of my temper and my anger. I wanted to yell, but I also wanted to be respectful of Griffin’s mother. “Who told you it was okay to pierce her ears? Because nobody asked me.”

Mrs. Hart reared back while Marissa made a noise with her mouth that was indecipherable. “Who told me?” Mrs. Hart asked. “Who told me?”

While I waited for a response, Marissa brushed past me in the doorway and walked into the house. “Yes, who told you? Griffin didn’t mention⁠—”

“Nobody had to give her permission,” Marissa said under her breath but not so low that I didn’t hear her.

“I told Griffin that I was taking her to get professional pictures made. She needed . . . ear candy.”