Page 55 of No Take Backs
But I should have known my niece would crush right through any insecurities.
“My dad doesn’t even get nail polish,” Lyla confides in him with a flick of her blond ponytail. “He just likes going since they clean his nails and give him the massage on his hands and his legs. He says it’s important to take self-care timeouts.”
Ella snorts, unable to keep a straight face. “It’s important for all of us to take time for self-care,” she says, her tone playful but carrying a hint of truth. “Taking care of our bodies, understanding when it’s time to pamper ourselves. That’s something everyone should do, not just adults.” She glances at Richard, a knowing smile on her lips. “And that includes you, too, mister. There’s nothing wrong with taking some time to relax and enjoy yourself. In fact, it’s something you should get used to. Life’s hard enough without making it even tougher on yourself.” Her words are light, but there’s a wisdom behind them that only comes from experience, and I can see Richard absorbing every word, considering them carefully as if they hold the key to something he’s been missing, something he couldn’t possibly have been exposed to before now.
“So it’s normal for guys to do it, too?” He stares at each of us in turn, like he can’t quite decide if he wants to believe us or not. “No one is going to make fun of me for doing it?”
“No.” Lyla shakes her head. “And you just tell me if anyone does. I’ll go scorched earth on them, and then I’ll tell Rett. He’ll do it too, and we’ll both tell our dads.” She shrugs, and I see a flash of the confidence she’ll carry her entire life.
“Who’s Rett?” Richard asks, his curiosity piqued by the mention of this mysterious ally. “And what’s scorched earth?” His eyes are wide, and I can see that he’s genuinely intrigued, not just by the idea of someone backing him up, but by the concept of scorched earth itself.
It’s clear that he’s trying to piece together what it means, to understand the implications of such a fierce-sounding term. There’s a kind of seriousness in his voice, as if he’s already thinking about how this new knowledge might come in handy in his own life. It’s fascinating to watch, to see the wheels turning in his head as he processes what Lyla is saying. And I can’t help but feel a twinge of admiration for how quickly he’s picking up on the subtleties of this new information.”
Lyla has Richard’s undivided attention to the point that it is hard for me, and I’m sure for Trish and Ella too, to see the difference in their ages as anything more than a number.
“I’m so sorry,” Ella whispers to Trish. “She really does have the attitude of a lawyer, and most days I’m fine with it. Other days, she reminds me why we only have one child.”
Trish waves her off while the two little kids start to dig into the lunch that our waiter pops up with.
“Bill and I never had a chance to have children of our own. That’s why we became foster parents. It’s a miracle that we only had the two—well, now one.” Her eyes fill momentarily with tears as we all remember Piper. “Usually, we have closer to five kiddos with us who need love.”
“Scorched earth is where you care about something so much and it’s so important to you that you’ll do anything to keep it safe. Or you get so upset because something makes you mad or it isn’t right or it isn’t fair. And then you do whatever you have to do to destroy everything or anything that stands in your way.” Lyla waves a ketchup-covered French fry in the air while she explains. “Only, you don’t go scorched earth over anything that’s not super important because my dad says that going scorched earth can hurt your friends or the people around you. So you have to be super careful if you ever think it’s something you’re going scorched earth over.”
Again, Richard is hyper-focused on what Lyla is saying, to the point that he almost pokes himself in the eye with his quesadilla.
“Got it. Only go scorched earth if I am prepared to deal with the consequences. Is it something like having a superpower?”
“Yes,” Lyla says solemnly. “It really is. It’s the most important superpower, because anyone can do it. And if anyone can do it, then there wouldn’t be anyone to suspect it’s you if you have to get rid of a body.”
“Lyla,” Ella hisses. “You can’t go around telling people that.” She blushes fiercely and turns to Trish. “I am so sorry.”
“Pshaw.” Trish waves her off. “It just means you’re raising a smart girl who won’t take shit from anyone.”
“Really,” I agree with her. “It’s something to be proud of.”
Ella snorts. “You say that because you’re the one who taught her that.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Rich is the one who told her that he’d help her get out of a murder charge. He’s the defense attorney, not me.”
“You’re right. You’d only help keep her victims alive long enough for her not to get a murder charge.”
“That’s ’cause Auntie Nia loves me,” Lyla interrupts with a cheeky grin. “And you. If you go scorched earth, my dad’ll help you too. You’re honorary family.” She nudges Richard in the shoulder. “Oh, you’ll like Rett, too. He’s my best friend and has been forever. He makes sure no one is mean to me or pulls my hair. And sometimes he shares his food with me if mine is gross. His dad owns motorcycles. But his mom died, like yours did. And she had a baby in her belly when she died. So it’s like Piper, too, I think.” She stops talking at the sharp intakes of breath that fill the table from every adult present.
But like only children can, Lyla and Richard move on from the heavy moment as if it never happened, their conversation flowing seamlessly into something lighter, something more in line with the carefree nature of their age.
It’s a skill that kids have, this ability to acknowledge pain without letting it consume them, to touch on the dark parts of life without being dragged down by them. It’s a resilience that I admire, and one that I sometimes wish I could emulate.
Watching them, I can see the way they process their emotions, the way they navigate the complexities of life with a kind of grace that’s both heartwarming and a little bit awe-inspiring. They’re stronger than we give them credit for, these kids, and it’s moments like this that remind me of just how much we can learn from them.
“He owns motorcycles?” Richard asks, his voice filled with awe. “That’s so cool. It sucks about his mom and little sister or brother. I know how that feels. Sometimes, I feel like Piper is right there next to me,” he tells her like they are sharing a secret. “But then I remember that she’s gone. Did you know that Trish took me to the cemetery? There was this little kid there, sitting on a grave. He said he goes all the time ’cause his dad died a long time ago.”
“Oh,” Lyla gasps and claps her hands together. “I know who that is. That’s Nox. His dad did die a long time ago. He ran away one time and they had to use the smelly dog to find him. My dad told me all about it.”
“I don’t have to run away to go there. Trish said she’d take me to see my mom and my sister anytime I asked her to.”
“Is anyone else about to cry?” I ask the other two adults. “I really, really wish we were drinking right now because I just can’t deal with the level of emotions these two are just flying through like it’s nothing.”
“You have no idea.” Trish lowers her voice and pulls a tissue out of her purse. “I spend half the night crying over all the memories that were lost in the fire, and then Bill and Richard will start talking about something, and I remember that we could have lost so much more in the fire than we did.”