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Chapter forty-three

Danae

I ’ve felt terrible about what I said to Griffin yesterday.

I haven’t told him about everything I’ve been processing through with Monica, even though I know I should have.

I’ve only met with her twice, but the clarity she’s given me about the roots of my anxiety regarding Griffin has actually made me more confused.

They say going to therapy often makes you feel worse before you feel better, and whoever “they” are, they were not wrong.

My brain can only handle one major topic at a time currently, so I’m going to get through this court hearing today and celebrate Jason officially being my son.

Later tonight, I’ll try to call Griffin after his game and see if I can smooth things over.

Because I do think I want things to be smooth.

I don’t want us to be broken, and I’m hoping that Griffin still feels the same way.

Jason looks adorably handsome in his button-down shirt and dress pants. But his face looks like a tumultuous bundle of emotions. Carefully tucking my dress under my knees, I crouch down in front of him.

“Hey, bud. You know how much I love you?” I ask, and he nods solemnly.

“Jason, I want you to know something. Today is really exciting and really happy because it means that we get to be family forever, no matter what. We already felt that way in our hearts, but now it gets to be legal and official.” He nods again, smiling slightly .

“But it’s also kind of a sad day because it means that you’ll officially never be with your dad again,” I say, and Jason’s smile falls, chin starting to quiver.

“It’s okay to feel happy and sad today, or any day.

It will never hurt my feelings if you’re sad about not getting to be with your dad.

It will never hurt my feelings if you’re sad about the fact that you never knew your first mom.

Because I’m sad that you don’t get to be with them, even though I’m so, so happy that I get to be your mom forever. We can feel both things.”

Jason throws his arms around my neck, hugging me tightly.

As much as the entire staff team would have loved to be here today, finding that many substitute teachers would have been essentially impossible.

Kara and Ron will be here, as well as most of my book club friends, and Angie, the sweet neighbor who has become a regular babysitter and friend.

Jason’s grandmother, Cathy, originally intended to be here but has been battling pneumonia, complicated by her years of smoking.

She sent Jason a sweet card and gift yesterday, so we know she’s supporting us in spirit.

I hold Jason’s hand as we turn down the hallway to the designated courtroom, but my feet stop short when I catch sight of who’s standing outside the door waiting for us.

“Mr. Griffin! Sammi!” Jason exclaims before sprinting down the remainder of the hallway. Griffin gives him an enthusiastic but brief hug before handing him off to Samantha when I reach him.

His arms are immediately around me, clinging to me like a lifeline. No—anchoring me like he is the lifeline.

Liquefying into his embrace, I feel all of my hesitations melt away. He’s safe. I’m safe. We’re safe. We can be safe.

“I’m sorry about yesterday, Danae. I’m sorry for being short with you, for not being understanding. I’m sorry for anything I’ve said or done to make you feel hesitant about me, about us,” Griffin murmurs by my ear. “I have to fly out early tomorrow morning, but, please, can we talk tonight?”

I blink hard and rapidly to force myself not to cry so I don’t ruin our photos of today with mascara streaks.

Nodding my head against his chest, I pull back and look into his eyes.

It takes all of half a second staring into the love in those gray-blues before I’m kissing him, pressing my lips to his like a promise.

“Ahem,” a throat clears behind us. I recognize that “ahem,” and it is not welcome.

Turning around, I face my parents. My dad’s suit looks freshly pressed, and mom’s dress is complete with a strand of pearls.

The smiles on their faces look equal parts forced and fake.

These are the versions of my parents that showed up to important social events—plastering on the pretense of being happy individuals in a happy marriage with a happy child.

There’s not even the smallest sign of remorse or contrition in their expressions or body language.

“What are you doing here?” I ask through gritted teeth. The slow quivers of adrenaline begin shooting through my body, but I tighten a fist to ground myself. Griffin’s hand comes to my waist, giving me a gentle squeeze of support.

Over my parents’ shoulders, I see Kara and Ron walking this way, Kara’s pace quickening as recognition dawns on her face. Thankfully, Samantha seems to have picked up on the tension and has ushered Jason away.

“We couldn’t miss the official declaration of Jason being a part of our family,” my mom says, using that falsely soothing tone.

“Jason is being declared a part of my family,” I say. “You were not invited to be here. How did you even know this was happening today?”

My dad’s eyes flicker to Griffin, and he conceals his embarrassment with a smile. “We wanted to come anyway to show you our support. We have our sources who knew this would be an important day for us. Surely you’re not going to turn your parents away from such a monumental moment in your life.”

“You turned yourselves away a long time ago,” I say.

My voice is small, even though my determination is not.

Griffin gives me another “I’m here” squeeze, and it gives my voice more strength.

“I will give some thought to if and when I’d be open to talking about what our relationship could look like in the future, but this is not the time or place for that conversation.

I will contact you if that day comes. For now, I’d like you to leave, please. ”

Both of my parents scoff, as though they can’t believe that I would possibly stand up to them. When they make no move to turn around, Griffin takes a half step forward.

“I’m sorry to butt in, but Danae has made her feelings pretty clear. We’re going to head inside the courtroom, but you’re not going to follow us,” he says, voice a deceptive calm. I know there’s a raging river underneath, waiting to be provoked.

Apparently, my father is wise (or cowardly) enough to not cause a scene confronting the darling of Kansas City in a public setting.

His eyes narrow, but he quickly adjusts his expression.

“We’ll be in touch, Danae,” he says, artificial smile back in place.

Placing a hand on my astonished mother’s back, he retreats down the hallway.

Griffin takes my hand and asks, “Are you okay?”

“No, and yes,” I say. I look up to meet his concerned eyes. “Sometimes we can feel both.”

He traces a knuckle down my cheek, then brings my hand up to his lips to kiss my fingers.

I smile at him and call for Jason. “Let’s get in there. It’s forever time.”

After court, we have a celebratory lunch with Griffin, Sam, Kara, and Ron.

By the end of lunch, I can tell that Jason is teetering between the happy and sad emotions of the day, so we part ways with the larger group.

Jason isn’t ready to go home yet, so we decide to go to a park and enjoy the gorgeous spring day.

Kara has a key to my townhouse, so she and Ron offer to drop my car off there so that Jason and I can ride with Griffin.

He suggests we make an ice cream pit stop on the way to the park, and I heartily agree.

We drive to my favorite local ice cream shop so I can get my beloved Maddy’s Mud flavor.

Griffin stays true to his “classy” self and picks strawberry, and Jason also stays true to character, choosing the Kansas City Crowns-inspired blue ice cream.

We find a quiet park nearby, and I cross my fingers that the handful of people out on the walking trails won’t give us a second glance.

Jason is quieter than usual and only eats a few bites of his ice cream before scampering off to the swings. Hopefully the sensory back-and-forth movement of the swing will help his body calm down after such an emotional roller coaster of a day.

We spend a couple of hours at the park, going for a slow walk together when Jason tires of the swings.

By early evening, Jason’s clearly running out of steam but trying his hardest to stay upbeat.

When we get back to the parking lot after our walk, Griffin opens the door for Jason to climb into the backseat while I open the passenger door.

I notice that Jason’s chin is quivering, but before I can ask him what’s wrong, Griffin’s already leaning through the open door toward him.

“You feeling kinda sad, Fireball?” Griffin gently inquires.

A tear forges a path down Jason’s cheek, dripping off his chin. “Maybe a little.”

Griffin nods in understanding, giving Jason enough courage to whisper, “I just still kinda miss my dad sometimes, ya know? I miss my good-day dad.”

“That totally makes sense for you to miss him and be sad sometimes. You love your dad. Today doesn’t change that.

Your mom and I are always here if you’re sad and need to talk about it.

It’s safe for you to talk about missing your dad, okay?

” Griffin says, and Jason nods. “Would you like a hug, Jason?”

Jason nods again and lunges forward to wrap his arms around Griffin’s neck, a tiny sob escaping as he does. Tears freely flow down my own cheeks. “I love you, little man,” I hear Griffin whisper. When he meets my eyes, still embracing Jason, I see that all three of us are crying.

It’s a happy, hard, sad, heavy, celebratory day, all wrapped into one. A constant conflict of feelings that we’ll face together. Safe together.