Extraits

Dr. Arneson sauntered in and sagged into a chair. “You ready for the holidays?”

Caleb soaked in the exhaustion radiating off the orthopedic surgeon. They had completed three surgeries already and had one more scheduled, with podiatry assisting—a limb salvage that had been shoehorned in at the last minute. In a way, Caleb saw himself in Arneson, both Wisconsinites born and bred. At six foot five, they both embodied their Viking ancestors in the breadth of their shoulders, blondness of hair, and eyes the color of the sky. New staff members had taken them for relatives. He could do worse than to have a good guy like Dr. Arneson in the family.

Caleb sighed. “Yes and no. The house is decorated, but I still need to work on Quinn’s big gift. It’s our first Christmas, so I want to do something special.”

Arneson narrowed his eyes. “Haven’t you two been together for five years?”

“Yes, but it’s our first as a married couple. Quinn is already all hearts and flowers over it.” Caleb pretended he wasn’t too, but truthfully, he was just not as bad as Quinn, though he suspected his husband would argue he was worse.