I didn’t choose a restaurant per se.

It’s an open-air BBQ eatery near the edge of the woods. The place is decked out with bright fairy lights, mismatched but comfortable, colorful chairs, and several barbecue pits around which the chairs are gathered.

“What is this place?” Robert looks delighted.

“It’s a DIY barbecue spot,” I tell him, enjoying the stunned look on his face. “I found it online. We buy the marinated meat from over there.”

I point to a long stall that has stacks ...