“Hello,” he answers.

“What’s up,” the voice on the other end of the line asks. 

It is his best friend Greg.  Greg asks him what his plans consist of for the night.  Deacon tells him that he is doing the same thing that he does every night, nothing.  Greg asks if he wants to come over to eat and have a couple of beers. 

“Sure, give me about forty five minutes.”    

Deacon drives home and jumps through the shower.  He gets dressed and grabs a twelve pack out of the fridge on his way out to his truck.  Climbing in, he drives across town to Greg and Lana’s house.  As he parks out front he notices another car there also that does not belong to Greg or Lana.

“I hope Lana isn’t doing what I think she is,” Deacon says to himself. 

Walking up the driveway Deacon can smell all the different flowers that Lana has planted, along with the meat Greg is barbequing.  He walks through the gate leading to the backyard and up to the patio where Greg is grilling hamburgers.  He pulls out a chair from the table on the patio, and quietly sits down.  Greg doesn’t see Deacon and yells to Lana to look out the window and see if Deacon is here.

“Nope,” Deacon says. 

Greg spins around still holding the spatula, “YOU SCARED THE HELL OUT OF ME!” 

Then he asks how long he had been sitting there.  Deacon tells him smiling, that he had just gotten there.