Page 4 of Harts & Hurts

The squabble grew louder.

Finally, I spoke up over the voices. “Attorney Clark. What happens if Griffin and I don’t agree to take her?”

The room went so quiet that you could’ve heard a pin drop. “Uh,” the attorney said into the silence. “Because of the way the directives were worded, if either you or Mr. Griffin Hart refuse the appointment today, your sibling’s wishes will be legally voided. The custody of the minor child would immediately default to the state’s family court system. Based on the fact that neither party seems willing to hash out a fair and equitable custodial agreement at this time, I would impress upon the judge that the best course of action would be for the minor child to be remanded into the state’s custody so that she would be placed in foster care until which time a decision could be made. I hope that answers your question.”

I noticed that both my mother and Yolanda Hart wore shocked expressions. I thought it was interesting that neither of them ever considered that their antics could affect Melrose negatively.

“Foster care?” Yolanda mumbled.

“And it would be all your own fault,” my mother accused. “Trying to hold my baby’s baby hostage!”

I stood up from my chair. “Hey, Griffin, can we speak in private?”

“Yeah.” He stood from his chair while the argument between our mothers went on, and everybody else in the room stared at us.

Griffin followed me out of the conference room, out of the front door of the law office, and around to the side of the building where I was sure none of our family members could see or hear us.

“Hey,” I said when it was just the two of us. I knew Griffin because we lived in a small town, and everybody knew everybody. I didn’t really know Griffin, though. He was two to three years older than me, so we weren’t ever in class together. I was the same age as Marissa. That was how I knew she was an asshole. Griffin seemed cool, though. He was popular in high school because he was a beast on the football field. He regularly won Homecoming King and Prom King, but he was never arrogant. He always seemed approachable and down-to-earth.

“What’s up? Your name’s Anistyn, right?”

“Right. Uh, I know our mothers are in a great deal of pain, so I’m not trying to judge either one of them when I say this, . . . but they’re being crazy right now. They are not thinking straight, and they’re operating strictly off emotion.”

“Facts.” He agreed with a nod of his head.

“I honestly think either one of them would be a better choice than me because I can barely keep a house plant alive, and I know even less about babies.”

“Keep talkin’ because I’m with you when you’re right.”

I sighed. “But they’re not who Ashlynn and Fisher chose, and they had their reasons. I’m not just saying this because she’s my sister . . . was my sister.” I felt myself getting choked up. “But Ash was the smartest person I know. She was a deep thinker. She didn’t do anything without weighing the pros and the cons.”

“Fisher was the same way.”

“There’s a reason that they chose us, and I’m not willing to override their reasoning and give into my mother just because she wants me to. What’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that there’s no way in hell that I’m letting my little niece go into foster care, even if it only takes a day for them to figure out some alternative custodial agreement. Fisher and Ashlynn picked. Whatever their reasons were, we’re who they picked.”

“So we’re doing this?”

He shrugged. “We’re doing this.”

I stared up at him because he was at least five inches taller than me. “How?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“But we’re doing it.” I nodded my head. “It’s fourth and goal.”

He looked at me quizzically. “What? What does that mean?”

“It’s a sports thing. I thought you would get it.”

“It has to make sense for me to get it, lil’ Mama.”

“We’re goin’ hard in the paint?”

“You know you can talk to me without trying to use sports references, right?”

That made me giggle for the first time that day.