John honestly didn’t know how to answer that when asked by someone who had no way of possibly seeing any games. “I- Nah, the missus had me on grill duty,” he said with a shrug. “Neighbourhood barbecue.”
Elijah remembered barbecues. Ribs dripping with sauce, the meat falling off the bone. Burgers smashed on the grill and blackened so perfectly, still so juicy when you bit into them. Roasted corn on the cob, and steak that melted in your mouth. He was pretty sure if John had any of the above in his hands right now, Elijah would have punched him in the face for just one bite.