Page 57 of Building What's Meant to Be

“Best BBQ you’ll ever eat.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had BBQ.”

“Then your life is about to change forever.”

“I don’t see a restaurant grade posted on the door.” Which probably means it got an F.

“Bubba is a fourth-generation pit master. He inherited this place from his dad who got it from his before that.”

“And they haven’t changed a thing in eighty years, have they?”

“Sadly, no. The focus is on the food and getting by. Because it’s a family business, Bubba is very generous. He takes care of his mother and has six kids. His hands are full, leaving little time for cosmetic upgrades.”

“Forget cosmetic, Aiden. This place is in shambles.”

“Business picked up when he catered the Designed to Last set, but he has a hard time keeping up. And I have a feeling because of that he’s missing out on fans who come out this way. Like yourself, people turn their noses up because—”

“Because the marsh is reclaiming the land? The roof is rotting? The picnic tables look like they’ve been picked over by vultures?”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

I pinch my fingers together to signify that it’s slight, almost nominal.

“Why don’t the Designed to Last ladybosses make it over?”

“Businesses aren’t in their contract. Has something to do with insurance. But they’ve donated a lot of leftover materials. And whatever they don’t provide will be part of our community service project.”

“I earned all of four dollars in tips today. I don’t have much to donate.”

“Don’t worry about that. First, let’s head in and say hello. Bubba is going to be thrilled that we’re here.”

I let Aiden go first even though he holds the door open for me like a gentleman. He takes a deep breath. I’ll admit that it smells good, but the smudged chalkboard menu does little to entice my appetite.

It consists of only five items:

Ribs

Slaw

Collards

Fries

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