Chapter 23 - The First Grill Again
Lily avoided grills for almost two years.
Then one summer afternoon at Ava’s house, she stood near a cold grill while Ava cleaned it.
I was not there.
Ava told me later.
Lily asked:
“Hot?”
“No. Gas off.”
She touched the handle.
Then:
“Tongs?”
Ava showed her silicone-tipped kitchen tongs.
Cold.
Lily squeezed them.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Children love tongs.
Trauma had stolen that ordinary annoyance.
Ava asked:
“Want to help bring corn outside later?”
Lily said:
“No.”
Fine.
One hour later:
“Maybe.”
Ava let her carry corn on plate.
Not use grill.
Next summer, age eight, Lily asked if she could turn one ear of corn while Ava supervised.
Long-handled tongs.
Heat-resistant glove.
Clear instructions.
Ava said:
“You don’t have to.”
“I want.”
She turned it.
Nothing happened.
No applause.
No video.
No:
look how brave.
Afterward Lily said:
“Hot.”
Ava:
“Yep.”
“Grandpa should’ve known.”
“Yes.”
That was all.
Reclamation does not always need poetry.
May you like
Sometimes it is corn.
────────────────────
