Cobwebs draped the front porch of the Black’s crumbling mansion. Mrs. Black wore an ebony formal and greeted her son Ben and his fiancé Abbey at the door.
Wearing an apron over his tuxedo, Mr. Black stood in the kitchen. “Welcome,” he said. “You like barbeque?”
“Don’t mind Dad,” Ben said. “Any excuse to play with fire.”
Abbey asked for her steak medium rare.
Smoke poured from the grill, and Abbey’s meat looked like a piece of coal. As she chewed, it was growing bigger by the minute.
“Like your steak?” Mr. Black asked.
Between bites, Abbey said, “Well done.”