barbeque (5)

The meat was dry. He didn’t say it out loud, of course, but he tasted it. Too hot on the fire, too fast off the smoke. Harold would’ve cussed a hole through the sky. But the others seemed to enjoy it just fine, nodding through mouthfuls and reaching for paper towels.

Jacob sat under the old oak, plate on his lap, watching people orbit each other. Every now and then someone would glance his way—half surprise, half calculation—then go back to their conversations.

Small talk. Bigger silences.“ Figured you wouldn’t show,” said a voice behind him. He looked up. Marcus. Same build, same tone.