Page 8 of Harts & Hurts

We did our best to figure it out, though. I was better at changing diapers than he was, so I took on that task. He wasn’t necessarily better at preparing bottles, but it was really the only thing left, so that fell to Griffin. I spent a lot of time bouncing and cooing at her. He spent a lot of time walking up and down the short hallway in my apartment with her. By the time she fell asleep, as the sun came up, I knew we were both miserable. Then came the call from Attorney Clark’s legal assistant that told us we needed to be at the courthouse for an 8:00 a.m. hearing.

“Do you mind keeping an eye on her while I run to the hotel to shower and brush my teeth? I need coffee, breakfast, something if I’m expected to make it through the rest of the day on three hours of sleep.”

“Yeah, I hear you. You go ’head. I’m gonna try to get a shower myself and pray she stays asleep long enough for me to wash my body.”

“I’ll stop back through here and scoop y’all once I’m dressed. I think it’s best that we show up to the courthouse together. You know, to present a united front.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in an hour or so?”

He nodded, and I let him out of my apartment, locking the door behind him, and basically stripping naked right there in the foyer to save time. I speed walked into the bathroom that was connected to my bedroom and turned on the water in the shower. I washed my body as quickly but as thoroughly as possible and dried off. Wearing just the towel I used to dry off, I tiptoed into the living room and was pleased to see sweet little Melrose still sleeping.

I brushed my teeth, did my skin care, and styled my hair with one ear tuned to the living room. I wanted to look like a serious adult who was embarking on a serious journey, so I skipped the jeans and graphic T-shirt I would typically wear. Instead, I dressed in neutrals—a pencil skirt and a cute, short-sleeved, button-up blouse.

Rather than gathering my box braids into an effortless ponytail, I left them cascading down around my shoulders. Baby faces were one of the hallmarks of Melrose women, and ponytails only helped me to look younger than my thirty years. Since I needed to present like a responsible, full-grown adult, I let my hair hang freely.

Melrose awoke just as I finished getting myself together. I walked into the living room and greeted her with a big smile. I wouldn’t say she returned it; she didn’t. She just looked at me curiously while I spoke to her.

“Hey, Miss Melrose, baby. Good morning. We’ve got a big day ahead of us. We have to go to the lawyer’s office, then to the courthouse, and then . . . who knows where.” I removed her from the bassinet and carried her to my bedroom. After laying her on my bed, I gave her a sponge bath, using only water. I didn’t have anything specifically for babies, and I knew I couldn’t use my grown-woman shower gel on her little baby skin. Griffin and I would have to make a trip to my mom’s house for a crash course on how to bathe her.

After doing the best I could on the washup, I pulled a fresh diaper and the only dress I saw out of the baby bag and got her ready. Once she was dressed, I did my best to get her hair together while she screamed and fought me like a much bigger girl than she was. I made a mental note that my mother would also have to give me a hair-combing tutorial.

When he arrived to pick us up, I appreciated that Griffin didn’t stay in the rental truck. He came up the stairs and met Melrose and me, then took her car seat from my hands, which I also appreciated.

I noticed that he’d taken a page from my book, and instead of the cargo pants, graphic T-shirt, and J’s he’d worn the day before, Griffin was dressed in a spiffy black suit with brown accents. He looked really capable, and if I was honest with myself, really good.

I was the first to admit that I didn’t subscribe to the family feud between our families. At the same time, I’d never gone out of my way to interact with any of the Harts. Growing up, even though we all went through the Fort Jackson School System, I had never looked at the girls as possible options where friendships were concerned. Conversely, I had never looked at the boys as possible options where dating was concerned. But sitting next to Griffin in the rental truck, staying up all night with him, taking care of Melrose, and now seeing him in the suit he wore, I could admit that he was a good-looking guy.

Griffin was a former athlete, and he had the physique to prove it. I wouldn’t say that the jacket of his suit was stretched over the muscles of his upper body. It was obvious that the jacket—hell, the entire suit—was custom-made, so it rolled over his form with ease. His muscles were obvious, though. The man had muscles. And he was tall. I read that the average black man in America was around five feet, nine inches tall. Griffin was well above average. Both my father and my brother, Anthony, were around six feet, two inches. Griffin had them beat.

His skin was about a shade lighter than mine. If my skin was the color of hot cocoa, then his was the color of Frappuccino. His lips were full and surrounded by a neat mustache and beard. His eyes were dark brown, and I liked the way they crinkled around the edges when he laughed or smiled. He didn’t do that often enough for me, but I got that there wasn’t much about our situation that was humorous. His teeth were white, his nose was perfect, and he had a tiny smattering of freckles on each cheek.

“The baby looks cute,” he commented as we made our way to Attorney Clark’s office. He wanted to debrief us again. He planned to go over potential questions from the judge again, and he also wanted us to lay out any and all decisions we had made the night before.

Melrose’s outfit was a white sundress with ruffled tank top straps and happy sunflowers dotted all over it. She had the baby J’s on her feet that I’d also found inside the bag. I knew those had to have been placed there by my sister, who was the queen of sneakers. Fisher and Ashlynn seemed to favor natural hair when it came to Melrose. That was no surprise, because Ashlynn favored natural, low-maintenance hair for herself.

Still, in an effort to show my proficiency at guardianship, I’d combed Melrose’s hair. I had used water and some of the hair care products I put on my own hair. I wasn’t sure if that was okay, but I figured one hair-combing session with my products wouldn’t hurt her. I would do my research and find out what was best for her hair later. At the moment, I used what I had. The water and moisturizing cream made Melrose’s locks coil into pretty springs. I placed what looked like a baby headband (that I found in her baby bag) around her head. She did look cute . . . and well-kept. At least Griffin and I would have that going for us.

“Thank you. I was trying my hardest to alleviate the narrative that we don’t know what we’re doing.”

He laughed. “Even though we don’t.”

I laughed too. “Right. You know that, and I know that. They don’t have to know that.”

“Damn,” Griffin muttered when we pulled up to the courthouse. The parking lot was crowded with vehicles, and I could admit that I recognized almost every one of them.

“Did you tell anybody?” I asked, referring to the fact that our respective families’ vehicles were present.

“Nah.”

“Me either.”

“My dad’s cousin, Lorraine, is a clerk for my uncle, Judge Lionel Hart. My mother probably had her on standby to share the information as soon as our case hit the docket.”

“Yeah, well, it could’ve been my uncle, Judge Patrick Melrose. Both of us have multiple family members who work at city hall.” I huffed out a sigh. “There goes only having to convince the judge that we’re capable. Now, we have to convince every member of both our families.”

He pulled into a parking spot, killed the engine, and turned to me. “Don’t take offense when I say this, Anistyn. Fuck these people. We don’t have to prove nothing to them. Fisher and Ashlynn made their decision, and their decision is us. We choose to honor that. Unless they want to fight it in court, what they’re thinking or feeling is none of our concern. They don’t like the decision? Good luck takin’ it up with Fisher and Ashlynn.”

“You’re right. Besides, I have enough on my mind with the questions this judge might ask us.”