Hope for Her (Hope #1) (22 page)

"Okay, baby boy, I want you to get this straight right now. You are going to be a member of the FSU graduating class of 2036." I laughed out loud, realizing the one thing I had in common with Mr. Griffin. I wanted my child to declare his support of Seminole Nation from the womb.

I would never admit this to anyone, but I kind of liked being pregnant. I found myself the center of attention whether I wanted it or not. People treated pregnant women different. My roommates freaked out. They started stockpiling condoms and saying prayers of thanks that it didn’t happen to them.

Being pregnant made me feel like a woman—more grown up and more mature. I ended up having to break it to my parents over the phone. Not ideal, but it worked out. I told them I would forever tell them disturbing news by phone, because it was much easier. My mom threatened to stop answering her phone.

My dad took it hard. He worried about my future, so I made Josh call and talk to him. He introduced himself and swore he would take care of the baby and me, but I wasn’t sure if it helped. It took another month before Dad would talk about the baby, but by the time we found out I was having a boy, he was one hundred percent on board. He loved the idea of having a grandson.

My brother yelled at me for throwing my life away, but he started coming around, too. Every time I spoke with my brother, he would tell me another Griffin family fact. “At least you had enough sense to get pregnant by a millionaire.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Joshua Elijah Griffin, IV

I asked Erin to meet me at Dad’s for moral support. I figured if we approached my father together and explained the situation; he would relent. At least understand that no matter what he said his grandson was on the way. When I arrived at the house, I found him and Erin in the dining room having dinner.

"Son, come. Join us," Dad said.

I studied Erin's face, but she wouldn't look me in the eye.

Not a good sign.

I hated my dad's dining room. He used to insist we eat dinner together on Sundays; his repentance for being a bad father the rest of the week. My father sat at the head, and Erin sat on his right. I slid into the seat on his left.

The housekeeper brought me a place setting and the chef came in with a plate full of food. He served steak, bloody rare, and steamed vegetables. I reverted back to childhood and pushed the food around my plate for the next thirty minutes. My dad spent the time talking about his latest business venture to no one in particular.

What am I doing?

I set my fork down. In three months, I would be a father. I needed to stand up to my father and be a man.

"Dad," I said a little louder than I intended. He and Erin both sat up straight and stared at me with wide eyes. I dropped my head and said, "I am sorry for everything I did to embarrass and disappoint this family. I know you weren’t proud to have me as your son. I did a lot of things to upset you, and I did them because I was trying to get your attention, but I can't do it anymore. I'm a grown man, and I need to take responsibility for my own actions. I am going to be a father in a couple of months, and I want him to look up to me and be proud of me.” I paused and looked from Erin to my father. “I also want him to get to know his grandfather. You know, despite my actions during certain times in my life, I have always been proud to be a Griffin. I am proud of my family."

I took the ultrasound photo out of my shirt pocket, laid it flat on the table and slid it over to my father.

I forced myself to focus on Erin, but her eyes remained glued to the photo sitting on the table between Father and me. Tears formed in her eyes. My father stood up so fast; his chair flew back behind him and crashed into the wall. Erin gasped and backed away from the table. I stayed seated. I wanted to crawl under the table.

"You're proud to be a Griffin? Are you fucking kidding me? You're so proud to be a Griffin you would soil my name, my father's name, by knocking up some gold digging whore and proclaiming her offspring a Griffin. You want to show him what being a Griffin is all about? How?"

He shook his head and held his hands out.

"You don't know the first thing about being a Griffin. You are a loser. You are a disgrace to the Griffin name. You have no pride in me, your sisters, or your mother for that matter. At least she understood to keep her indiscretions a secret."

I started to stand up, to defend myself, but I settled back in my chair when I looked over and saw Erin crying through my own tears. She sobbed, but remained silent and listened to my father destroy me.

"Let me tell you what it means to be a Griffin. A Griffin has ambition, drive, and goals. He works hard and fights for what he wants. He takes advantage of what his legacy offers him and doesn't shit on it like you have. Do you understand what I mean? Now I'm not saying we are perfect—far from it—but when a Griffin makes a mistake, he fixes it. That's all I ask you to do. Fix the problem.”

I stood up and headed out of the room, but didn’t get three steps before Dad grabbed my arm and turned me around.

"Do you understand Joshua Elijah Griffin? You need to fix this problem. Griffins fix their problems. You need to fix it, or I will."

Dad annunciated each word slow and steady, but his face turned a deep purple and red. His eyes, so calm minutes ago, were bloodshot and sweat popped out on his forehead. He never lost control.

It struck me, the extraordinary nature of the situation. When I had broken into the high school at fourteen and trashed the principal's office, my father chastised me in a calm tone and paid to renovate the principal's office. Done, settled.

At sixteen, I got in a fight at school, and the principal expelled me for two weeks. I broke the kid's jaw. He smoothed out the situation, paid for the kid's medical bills and a nice vacation for his family to Europe, and the next week, I transferred to another school.

My latest arrest, he picked me up from the station house and deep in the heart of Gator country. My dad, Mr. Florida State charmed these men into expunging my record and turning down the offer when they said they would name the new addition to city hall after him. I laughed, remembering the joke he made about the only yards a Griffin wanted in Gainesville belonged to those located in the Swamp every other year. The Swamp was what they called the University of Florida football stadium.

I peered around my father and locked eyes with Erin. She pleaded with me to fall in line without uttering a word.

"Son, you need to fix this." His last words rolled around in my brain as I headed out of my family home. I took one look back, and my heart ached for what I was giving up, but I had no choice.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Carrington Olivia Butler

I tried not to freak out when I didn't hear from Josh yesterday. I figured he needed more time with his family. We planned to stay in Dallas for at least six months.

By Friday, I started to worry. I called Erin, but she wouldn't tell me how their conversation with their dad went. All she said was that Josh left. He headed back to school right after dinner. Maybe he stopped at his mom's place in Daytona.

By Saturday morning, anger replaced my worry. Utter disappointment shook me. Gut wrenching, sob worthy disappointment in Josh and myself for believing in him.

Walking on campus, I ran into Jackson sitting at a table in the student union studying and eating lunch.

"Hi."

"Hey," he said. "Look at you."  His eyes went straight to my belly.

"I know. I'm huge."

"No, you look great." He reached out to touch my stomach, but then stopped himself.

"Go ahead, everyone else touches it."

He laid his hand flat on the side of my stomach, and the baby kicked.

"Whoa."

"I know. Freaky right."

"That's insane." He moved his hand up a little and the baby kicked him again, right in the middle of his palm. "Does it hurt?"

"No, it feels like this." I thumped him with my index finger on his chest. "But from the inside out. It feels foreign."

He laughed and removed his hand. I tried to smile, but as usual he saw right through me.

"Hey, sit down. You okay?" he asked.

"No, not really. Josh went home on Thursday to see his family, and I haven't heard from him since."

Jackson appeared concerned, but not surprised.

"Has he called you?" I asked.

"No," he said. "When did he say he would be back?"

"He said he would come right back, but that was two days ago. I called Erin, and she said he left Thursday night after dinner." Jackson's face remained emotionless, which was odd. "What is it? What aren't you tell me."

Jackson leaned back in his chair and stared out the window.

"I don't want to worry you."

"I'm worried. You know where he is?"

"No. I don't, but—" His gaze made me uncomfortable, like he needed to figure out whether to tell me something or not. "Usually when he disappears for a day or so, it means he's using again."

I knew this, but someone needed to say it out loud for it to make sense.

I leaned back in my chair and wrapped my arms around my belly. A position I'd perfected out of maternal instinct, shielding my baby from negativity.

"We were supposed to leave tomorrow," I said and hid my face in my hand as the tears started to form.

"Carrington, I'm so sorry. Don't cry. You'll upset the baby."

His concern for the baby made me laugh.

"You are so sweet to me," I said as I laughed through my tears.

He knelt next to me and held me. His strong arms surrounded me, protecting me, caring for me. I leaned on his shoulder and thought about how I’d be content to stay there forever

"If it's any consolation, I think he tried. You know, because of the baby."

"Yeah, well, like I told you before, it's not our job to save him." I let go of Jackson, and he sat back in his chair. "Do you think he's been using all semester?"

"Well, I know he stopped going to class. His English professor asked me if he had withdrawn from school."

"God, I can't believe I didn't see it."

"Well, he's pretty good at making people see what he wants them to see. He wanted you to see him as a devoted boyfriend and up until now, he has been, right?"

"Yeah." I bit my top lip and closed my eyes. "I can't wait on him. I don't have the energy anymore, but—"

"What?"

"I want to go home. I don't want to be around when he finally shows up." 

"Are you okay to fly?"

"Yeah."

"Well, let's get you a plane ticket."

I walked back to the frat house with Jackson. We purchased a ticket, but it left the next morning. Jackson said he would take me to the airport. I wanted to head back to my dorm and continue packing and try to hold it together until I made it back home. I wanted states between Josh and me.

Being in the frat house, a pang of sadness hit me. I realized how much time I spent at the house over the last few months. I promised myself not to start down the road of everything I would miss because I chose to have this baby instead of the college experience I promised myself nine months ago.

I made these choices, I put myself in this situation, and I needed to make the best of it. It wasn't Josh's fault. I participated in our reckless relationship dynamic. I indulged him because the intensity excited me, and it felt good. My inexperience allowed him a kind of control over our relationship. He needed to deal with the shit in his life, but I figured we could work on it together. It never crossed my mind how that dynamic would play out in our little family.

I shook my head at myself for being so naive and reckless.

I stopped myself from worrying about Josh. I wanted no part of being with someone unless my baby and I were his number one priority, and Josh's addiction didn't allow a lot of room for anything else.

I left a few items in Josh's room. Jackson unlocked the door.

"Take your time, I'm going to grab a book and I'll walk you back to the dorm when you're ready," Jackson said.

I put a hand on his arm. "Thank you for looking out for me."

"I like looking out for you." Jackson placed his hand on the side of my face and stared down. I started to tilt my head up, but he leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. He opened Josh's door and headed down the hall to his room without looking back.

I peered into the room before entering. I half expected to see Josh lying in bed asleep or on the couch watching television, but there was no sign of him. His room looked the same as when we both left on Thursday morning.

I found a couple of items of clothes I left in the closet. I went into the bathroom to get my t-shirt off the back of the door.

When I came back out into his room, I gasped and froze. Josh stood by the door with his back to me. He shut the door and locked it; the sound of the click from the lock amplified in my head. I studied him from behind. He wore the same jeans and t-shirt he wore last time we spoke. His hair lay matted and flat against his head.

"Josh," I whispered.

He turned around and his eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot. His face tinted a pale grey color, but his lips were blue. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at my belly. He wouldn't raise his head to look me in the eye.

Josh," I said louder this time. He didn't flinch.

The urge to get out of here grew intense the longer he stared at me. I grabbed onto the doorframe of the bathroom so hard, my hand started to ache. Josh took a small step toward me and whispered something.

"What?" I asked.

He whispered, and I strained to hear him. Every fiber in my being told me I needed to get out of here.

I sidestepped Josh's bed in order get out of his immediate path and proceeded to the door, but stopped in my tracks at the sound of his voice.

"I need to fix it. My dad said I was a Griffin, and I had a responsibility to fix it." I broke out in a sweat from the tone in his voice. I bit my lip to avoid screaming and moved slow, not wanting to make any sudden moves. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and willed myself to keep walking until I reached the door. I only made it halfway, one step past him.