“Before you get stuck into Brenda’s wonderful meal,” said Rudy, left standing as everyone sat, “and just so that you don’t think I’m a complete arse for that last comment, I’ve brought you all a small token of thanks from my family, as a way of saying Merry Christmas. Mrs M told me you have your own tradition about opening gifts on Christmas morning, but I’m sure you’ll forgive this small break with convention. These aren’t even wrapped and are largely from the family business.”
And to the delight of everyone, Rudy started to hand out presents from the bags he had brought—a large snow globe each for Cheryl and Jessica, a miniature bottle of Mortimer twenty-year-old single malt whisky each for Johnny, Frank and Antoni, a full-length apron with a Mortimer Distillery slogan for Mrs M and thick hoodies with the same for Trevor and Mary.
Cheryl had already removed her snow globe from the box and now shook the scene to life, holding the ornament out for everyone to see.
“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” she sang.
“So that’s what you meant by ‘it’s going to snow today’. You brought the snow with you,” said Mrs M, laughing at Rudy, who stood enjoying the laughter.
“And finally,” said Rudy, chuckling along, “when Trevor was giving me the lowdown on you yesterday—could you feel your ears burning?—he mentioned Karl being a rugby fan. And back in York, I knew someone who plays for the Bulls. So I’ve got you their annual calendar signed by the team, if you—”
“My husband?” said Mary, suddenly animated. “No, no. I’m the Bulls fan, not him. He can have the hoodie. I’m the one who goes to all their home games and most of their away matches—”
“It’s true,” said Karl, grinning affectionately at Mary. “She does.”
“Wait,” said Frank from the other end of the table. “You’re a Bulls supporter, Mary? No way!”
“For the past ten years,” said Mary proudly, before patting her stomach. “Never miss a game. And if it wasn’t for junior, I’d have been to every match this season.”
“Favourite player?” said Frank, shouting a challenge down the table.
“In the present squad? Has to be either Todd Mercer, François Debois or Damian Ingram.”
“I meant from a ‘performance this season’ perspective. Not from the ‘hottest player on the pitch’ viewpoint.”
“In which case, both.”
“Jessica,” said Frank, standing in his seat. “Sorry to ask this, but would you mind swapping seats? It’s a matter of urgency. I can see my Christmas Eve duty is to help educate Mary.”
“Bring it on,” said a laughing Mary.
And just like that, not only did the whole seating arrangement change, but the temperature in the room thawed utterly and, in the true spirit of Christmas, foes partied with foes. Mrs M finished off the table by bringing gravy and assorted mustards for the meat and setting an individual dish of mixed vegetables in front of an intermittently beaming and happily arguing Mary.
Midway through the meal, amid the quiet buzz of chatter around the table, Trevor, who had quietly enjoyed his food, excused himself to get another bottle of white wine from the fridge. After taking the time to select a nice screw-top Chablis, he thumped the door closed to find Rudy standing there, a look of concern on his face.
“Did I do something wrong?” asked Rudy.
“What?” said Trevor, flinching. “No, of course not.”
“Because ever since we sat down for the meal, you’ve been ghosting me. You could have asked me not to come if you don’t want me here.”
Trevor almost dropped the wine bottle, his shock deep and genuine.
“Of course I want you here,” he said before nodding back at the table. “Are you kidding? Look what you’ve done tonight. Nobody spoke last night. Tonight they’re all getting along like old friends. And that’s thanks to you.”
“Then why are you not happy? You can’t even look at me.”
Rather than meet Rudy’s fierce gaze, Trevor’s studied the floor tiles trying to find the right words.
“It’s not that I’m unhappy, Rudy. Honestly. Quite the opposite, actually. It’s just…” said Trevor, deflating and wondering how to explain himself without embarrassing them both. As the words formed, he stared hard at the wine label. “Okay, look. I’m giving you space to get to know everyone, and also making sure my smart-mouth comments don’t scare you off again, like I almost did in the bathroom yesterday. I like you a lot, Rudy. And I mean, a lot, if you know what I mean? What I’m trying to say, in my not-so-subtle way, is that Jessica’s not the only person in the room who’s developed a bit of a crush on you.”
In the short silence that followed, a crestfallen Trevor felt his new friend glaring hard at him. Eventually, unable to bear the tension any longer, he looked up into the beautiful eyes of a grinning Rudy.
“I’m sorry,” said Trevor. “Please don’t go. Are we okay?”
“You’re a silly arse. And there’s nothing to be sorry about,” said Rudy, snatching the bottle from him. “Here, give me that before everyone dies of thirst.”
Once the meal had ended, they passed used dinner plates to the end of the table and Rudy excused himself to use the restroom, but not before he caught Trevor’s eye, smiled and winked at him. Once again, Trevor’s heart fluttered, but this time he made sure to return a quick smile before watching Rudy go. In the absence, he sipped his wine and listened to conversations around the table. A few minutes later, Rudy’s voice whispered in his ear.
