Page 44 of Harts & Hurts

I had just taken a bite out of my sandwich when Marissa and our aunt Sybil stopped right next to us.

“Um, look at you two, . . . looking like a little family,” Sybil commented. She was my father’s youngest sibling, and she had the immature mentality to go with that status.

“What would you rather us look like, Syb?” I asked, giving her the blankest stare I could muster.

Sybil didn’t have a response, but instead of the conversation being dead, Marissa decided to jump in. “Uh, I don’t know. But maybe not so . . . couple-like? I mean, co-guardians is different from couple, isn’t it?”

Anistyn didn’t even acknowledge either one of them. She kept her attention firmly on Melrose.

“Whatever you’re tryna insinuate, you should just say it, Marissa.”

“I am saying it. You’re sitting here with Fisher’s daughter and his wife’s sister, and y’all are looking like the family they used to be.”

“And that would bother you, why?” I asked. “The fact that we’re giving our niece, who also happens to be your niece”—I looked up at my aunt—“and your niece as well, a stable home should make you happy. Why are you bothered that we’re working to give your niece a family? You think because her parents are no longer here that she should, what, know her place? Melrose should know that she’s an orphan, whose aunt and uncle took her in so she wouldn’t have to go into the system? I don’t get what the problem is.”

Sybil looked down at the ground, as if she felt duly chastised for coming over to start shit, but not my baby sister. From the time she spoke her first words, she always had something to say.

“The problem is,” she forced out through clenched teeth, “that you’re supposed to be raising our niece, . . . not sleeping with the damn enemy. It was bad enough losing Fisher before we actually lost him. Before he lost his life, we had already lost him”—she pointed at Anistyn—“to her family. He stayed away because his wife and his wife’s family was more important to him than we were. Now, you’re on that same damn path, and I don’t want to lose another brother. You’re the only brother I have left, and you felt perfectly fine, cutting me and Mama off until this morning.”

“I can’t handle this.” Anistyn snatched Melrose into her arms, then turned her back on Marissa.

“Riss, you’re my little sister. I’ve wiped your nose and packed your lunch box. I’ve walked you to school and even carried your backpack. I helped you with your homework. Hell, sometimes, I did your damn homework. My point is I love you. You’re my sister, and I love you. But let me make something abundantly clear. Let this be the last time you blame the Melrose or Hurt family for a dynamic that you, yourself, created.

“You didn’t lose Fisher because he decided that his wife and her family were more important to him; you lost Fisher because you decided that a feud that ain’t have shit to do with you was more important to you than keeping the door open to have a relationship with your brother. You chose to isolate and alienate him when he married Ashlynn. You chose to give him the unspoken ultimatum that he could either have a relationship with Ashlynn or a relationship with you.

“He didn’t do that. You know how I know? Because I still had a damn relationship with my brother. I went to his crib. He and his wife came to my games. They invited me over for dinner. And newsflash, I went. I went and had dinner with them—him and his wife. I didn’t avoid them. I didn’t pretend that they didn’t exist. And you know what they did in return? They loved me. They left me guardianship of their only child because they knew that I saw them . . . both. Not just my brother, the Hart. I saw my sister-in-law too. I saw her, and I loved her. So get the fuck outta here with your revisionist-history-ass take on what went down.”

“Griff—”

“Marissa, I’mma need you to walk away. If there’s any hope of you maintaining a relationship with me, you need to walk away. Fisher never allowed anybody in this family to cause a breach between him and Ashlynn, and I’m not about to let nobody cause one between me and Anistyn. She is the feminine figure in Melrose’s life. I am the masculine figure in Melrose’s life. If you have a problem with the fact that we like each other and work well together, then you need to get your fucking head examined.”

20

Anistyn

“Are you sure we made the right decision?” I questioned as I settled into the seat next to Griffin.

It was the week of his thirty-third birthday. When I asked what he wanted to do, he told me that he wanted sleep, peace, quiet, and me. It was the middle of the football season, and since he had already missed a Saturday at work to attend the memorial for our siblings, I knew he didn’t want to take any more days off work. He asked for one night away from the house. One night of baby-less grown-up time. I booked a room at a luxury resort in the mountains of Asheville, North Carolina.

“I think it’ll be cool.”

I wasn’t so sure. We’d asked both sets of grandparents to come to Jackson Island and watch Melrose. Both his parents and mine were ecstatic to get the invite. I just hoped that everything would go smoothly. “Well, both your father and mine seem to keep pretty cool heads, and our house is large. They can stay on opposite sides if need be.”

He chuckled. “They won’t need to stay on opposite sides.”

“Did you talk to your mom? Did you tell her, in no uncertain terms, that she is not to make any life-altering decisions for Melrose without our permission?”

“I told her. She knows that if she pulls something else like that ear-piercing thing again, she’s getting ex-communicated.”

I laughed at his choice of words.

Since we would only be at the resort overnight, we flew to North Carolina rather than drove. Once we made it to the resort from the airport, we checked in and found our room. Griffin unlocked the door and walked into the room ahead of me. I wanted it that way so he could see the room first.

“Okay. Okay. This is like the granddad style I liked at Design House, right?”

I chuckled lightly. “Yes. This room is done in the grandpa chic style you liked. I did some research to find a resort for us, and I found out that the designer who did the room at Design House actually decorated all of the rooms in this resort. When I booked, I asked for a room with a strong grandpa chic vibe.” The room definitely gave what I requested. The room at Design House had been done in deep, dark greens and warm browns. The room we stood in was done in warm beige with olive-green accents and warm wood furniture. It was cozy and comfy, and the view of the mountains from the large windows made it feel like our own private tree house.

He caught my hand and pulled me into a hug. “Thanks for planning this.” He kissed me on the neck and pulled me even closer, if that was possible.