are great,” Gabe said. “You must be the luckiest man in the world.”
“How’s that?” Cal asked, his eyes closed as he savored another bite.
“To have a wife like Jessica.”
Cal grinned. “You won’t hear me complaining. Wait until you meet my son. Then you’ll really know how lucky I am.”
“How old is he?”
“Almost a year old. He’s starting to learn to walk. Which is a good thing, because Tuck’s been bragging about his little girl for a month now. Did you know that girls learn to walk before boys? Can you believe that?”
The disgust in Cal’s voice tickled Gabe. He chuckled and it felt good. He hadn’t been that happy when he’d awakened, but a good friend could cheer up a guy.
“I think that’s so girls can get a head start running away from boys.”
“Yeah,” Cal replied, his face suddenly serious. “I’ve sure had some cases where I’ve wished the woman would run. Domestic violence is ugly.”
An alarming thought filled Gabe. “Katie never—I mean, her husband didn’t—”
“Not that I know of. But he didn’t appreciate her. That’s for sure.”
“Maybe she was a lousy wife,” Gabe muttered, picking up the cinnamon roll and sniffing it.
“I doubt it. Even if she was, she’d make up for a lot of sins, being able to make these.”
Gabe had just taken a big bite. He almost choked on it before he could speak. “You mean Katie made these?”
“Well, of course. I stopped by The Lemon Drop Shop on my way over here.”
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