Braden was on his way over to his friend Nathan's house.
He had pulled a muscle over the previous weekend during a game of intramural summer soccer at the local university and ever since his lower back had been driving him crazy. He hadn't slept well, and his mobility had gone to shit.
Nathan and Braden had grown up together and were longtime friends. They attended the college together now and even played on the same team. As it so happened, Nathan's father was an accomplished sports massage therapist and after Braden had complained to his friend over text that the pain in his lower back simply wasn't going away and was even getting worse, Nathan had suggested that he could ask his dad to take a look at him.
After hearing about Braden's predicament and his want to avoid large medical or chiropractic costs, Nathan's father had gladly agreed to help.
Braden had never worked with a sports masseuse before but he was desperate for any sort of help he could get at that point.
When he arrived at his friend's house that Saturday afternoon, he hobbled up the steps of the large two-story craftsman and rang the doorbell.
The door was opened by Nathan's father, Linus Coleman.
"Oh, hey Braden, come on in. Nathan said you'd be coming by today so we could take a look at your back." He welcomed him into the house.
Nathan's Dad was a fairly good-looking guy in his late 40's. He had sort of a Pierce Brosnan-vibe to him (though without the accent of course). Braden knew him well as he'd coached a couple of their AYSO teams while growing up and the families had even gone on various camping trips together over the years to nearby Yosemite and Lake Tahoe.
"Hey Mr. Coleman, is Nathan not here?" Braden had assumed his friend would be home.
"No, unfortunately he had to head downtown with his mom for some last minute errands for the big BBQ tomorrow."
The Coleman family BBQ was famous on a local level. Linus Coleman had the most coveted secret seasoning in the county and his sausages and patties were the types of proprietary blends that made even the town butchers eternally jealous.
Every year at this time the well-used backyard was done up for the Fourth of July and a BBQ was enjoyed as a precursor to the night's fireworks. They were easily visible from the nearby park and school which were located just down a nearby hill, both of which held some of the better shows in the area. This gave the Coleman backyard a particular advantage in fireworks viewing, and thus the annual BBQ had grown in its lore over the years.
Braden followed him back through a house busy with the beginning stirrings of party setup strewn all around.
Linus kept a home work-office in the large craftsman that looked out onto a backyard sentried with two large oak trees and framed by a marvelous weeping willow. Red, white, and blue lanterns were strung across the lawn and a number of tables and chairs had already been set up around the pool and spa and fire-pit. There was Ping-Pong and Corn-Hole and the bar area which was typically where the Coleman's would set up a number of killer kegs from some of the local breweries in the area.
As Braden followed his friend's father into the room he cringed a little as the same shooting pain that had been torturing him those past few days jolted back through him with a white-hot tinge—like a butter knife against a cavity.
