“Too hot.” Brian joined Dean on the back step.
Dean nodded. Although unwise to stay outside for long without a coat in early December, with the oven on and pans steaming away—and acting as a spare part in the proceedings—he’d come out to sit on the steps for much-needed air. He swigged from the one and only bottle of lite beer he would drink.
Brian settled beside him, with what had to be a real beer in hand in a tall glass. Silence persisted for several seconds, stretching out into minutes. What to discuss? They’d exhausted the topic of the car. The garden, though kept well, appeared cut back and bedded for winter. Besides, Dean knew little of plants, struggled to tell a rose from an aspidistra. A few weeds persisted on battling through the patchy lawn and, as few of the shrubs were ever
