Consideration for Scoundrels

FOURTEEN

"C'mon, whenever you're ready I want you try and hit me."

Mother and daughter stood several yards apart, the lush green grass stretched out between them. Rick was watching from the front steps, already apprehensive. Neither of the O'Connell men had been willing to teach Selena how to properly fight so it had been up to Evy.

Even in her early forties, Evy's style of hand to hand was still effective, elegant even. Part dancing, part brawling. Still as deadly as she'd been a lifetime ago, two lifetimes ago even.

"A knife kills as well as a gun." She would say. "Learn to wield both."

Her daughter however had the same bullish approach to combat as her father. Charging in first, assessing well after the fight was already underway. On one hand it made her predictable; the easy strike, the obvious takedown, the quickest way to put someone on the ground. On the other, having no sense of style or fluidity made her as equally unpredictable. Where a seasoned fighter would duck, Selena would strike, go low instead of high, crash forward instead of maintaining even the minimal sense of self-preservation.

"Careful now." Rick cautioned, unable to help himself.

Evy shot him a look.

"The world certainly won't go easy on her because she's a girl." She'd always told him. "And she'll need to fight twice as hard as any man."

So Rick bit his tongue. Not that the scrap of a seven year old facing down her mother had a chance of actually doing any actual harm. Nor would Evy do more then send her tumbling a few times on the grass. Selena's hands were already balled into fists, held at face level as her mother had taught her.

Protect your face, and anything else soft.

She charged.

Her fists swung wide, and Evy easily sidestepped her. Again and again she hit the ground. But she would let her legs give out before she conceded defeat.

"You'll have to be better than that." Evy tried not to laugh as Selena's face turned pink from the effort: "If you can't be stronger, be twice as fast or twice as clever."

Selena's knees and hands were bearing the brunt of the damage, but nothing beyond a few scrapes; after all, it wasn't Evy's intention to actually do anything beyond deter her daughters attacks. Selena rose again, her clothes grass-stained and wrinkled, her hair a tumbled mess. Flailing wildly, she hit the ground once more.

Only this time she didn't get up. She lay face first in the grass, her arms stretched out at her sides.

"Lena?"

She rushed across the lawn, but as soon as Evy had crouched down, Selena rolled to the side, both hands clasped tight around her mother's forearm and with all her strength, dragged Evy down to the ground. Selena bounced on to her feet with the type of elasticity only children could summon, and planted a foot in the center of her prone mother's back.

"Gotcha!" She squealed in victory, already giggling with glee.

Her mother, stunned for a few moments, began to laugh. "Wonderful!" Evy praised her. She rose to her feet, brushing the dirt from her clothes, beaming all the while. "Absolutely splendid." She eyed her husband. "I see your father has been instructing you how to cheat." She teased.

"Hey when it's life or death, chivalry is for the loser. Winners aren't afraid to get their hands dirty." Rick smirked. "Good job kiddo."

The sun was setting on the Thames. It was summer and they sat on the front steps to enjoy the onset of twilight while Evy wrapped a strip of bandage around her daughters chaffed knuckles.