Notes from the Back Garden
We’re home. I’m stretched out in the back garden with Ranih, letting the evening settle around us after a barbecue at James and Jean’s. He’d arranged it before we’d even finished docking at the orbital platform, we were barely through the hatch at 17:30 CST when the invitation came through.
We reached their place around 19:00. I offered to help, naturally, but James waved me toward a chair and insisted I relax while he worked his usual magic at the grill.
It didn’t surprise me in the slightest that he and my father got along so well back on my Homeworld, especially around a barbecue. There were even a few playful tussles over who got to turn the meat, each trying to claim the tongs like it was a matter of ancestral pride.
All jokes aside, they’re both excellent with a grill, and I’ve never once had reason to complain.
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