“In which case, Merry Christmas, everybody,” called Mrs M, lifting her glass in the air, followed by a round of cheers from everyone.
“Now can we open our presents?” moaned Johnny. “Please!”
“Honestly,” said Frank affectionately, putting his arm around Johnny. “You’d think I live with a child.”
In their Secret Santa tradition, Cheryl had provided each guest with another person’s name and a set spending budget. Presents often ended up being fun and more thoughtful than if there had been no limit. Mrs M always brought spares—thankfully, as this year’s event turned out—in case anyone forgot or if there happened to be any unexpected guests. In a slight break from tradition and to make up for their surprise arrival, Frank and Johnny had brought something for them all, a present from their world travels.
Trevor ripped off the Christmas wrapping to find a cookbook entitled Recipes for One as his Secret Santa gift. He didn’t even need to look up to rumble the person who had picked him because he knew Cheryl’s humour all too well. Frank and Johnny had bought him a clay-modelled three-dimensional fridge magnet of Petra in Jordan, one to add to his already significant collection. Rudy was clearly delighted by their gift, a small bronze model of a Trojan horse, something they had bought from a gift shop in Turkey.
Once the gift opening had ended, Frank and Johnny shooed everyone out of the room and the work began. Giving holiday guests tasks to do on Christmas morning might have seemed unusual, but in the past nobody had ever complained, everyone happy to muck in before passing comment on what a good job each of them had done. The whole arrangement usually led to a far better appreciated and well-deserved Christmas lunch. As everyone headed off to start on their various duties, Trevor only heard Mary pass comment, grumbling to Karl about them being given the most arduous task and saying she would not be lifting anything heavy. She would opt instead to choose the music while he completed the rest. Karl, of course, agreed without objection.
Trevor shuddered to think what his ex’s life was going to be like once their baby was born.
Chapter Ten
Baby, It’s Cold Outside
Everyone went busily about their tasks while Trevor sat cocooned in the warmth of the kitchen next to Rudy, both happy to be together, their knees occasionally touching beneath the table. Time slipped by under Mrs M’s watchful eye, and his hands ached from peeling and chopping vegetables—no frozen vegetables under Mrs M’s watch. Only as they finished and received the seal of approval were they treated to a mug of hot tea. Frank appeared at the kitchen door as the hour nudged one and invited them all to witness the decorated table. With a nod from Mrs M, Rudy took Trevor’s hand and led him away into the living area as everyone else gathered around.
Lit simply by lights from the Christmas tree together with clusters of candles down the centre, the Christmas table looked spectacular, like a scene from a Christmas lifestyle catalogue. Keeping the blinds closed had been a masterstroke because the softly illuminated decoration did not have to compete with harsh daylight. Someone—Jessica, he guessed—had continued Trevor’s theme of nature. With the addition of gold and scarlet baubles set in clutches of wild green fir and arranged around the clump of blood-red candles, they had added glossy green and mauve tartan Christmas crackers, shiny stainless-steel cutlery and sparkling crystal glasses. They had even managed to add a garland of matching tartan around the rim of the tablecloth.
While he stood mesmerised, unable to speak, Rudy handed him a glass of champagne then used his phone to take a selfie of them both.
“Best Christmas ever,” he whispered to Trevor, the warm breath and voice tickling Trevor’s eardrum. Just having Rudy’s body heat near sent shivered vibrations through Trevor’s body.
“Okay, I know I’m a big softie, but I meant what I said, Rudy,” said Trevor, turning to gaze into his eyes. “This whole trip had all the hallmarks of a train wreck. Until you showed up.”
“When I said best Christmas ever, I was speaking for myself. And besides, I can’t take credit for this,” said Rudy, nodding at the table before clinking Trevor’s glass with his own. After a brief, lingering stare, he leaned in and kissed Trevor full on the lips until he heard a soft gasp from someone.
“Is he gay now?” came a female voice.
Trevor felt Rudy’s lips morph into a smile against his mouth. Moments later, he pulled away and turned to the voice. Mary. But Trevor answered her first.
“Of course I’m gay,” said Trevor, grinning widely. “Ask your husband.”
Everyone laughed good-naturedly except Mary who had not finished.
“Is it your mission in life to turn every straight man gay?” she asked. Trevor couldn’t be sure, but he thought she might actually be joking. He was about to respond when he felt a warm arm wrap around his shoulders.
“He didn’t turn me gay,” said Rudy, grinning. “I came this way, and I plan on staying this way. Although, if you’re referring to Trev making me gay as in happy, then the answer is yes, and I can’t think of a better mission in life, can you? So how about we all help Mrs M bring food to the table and have a fun lunch together?”
“Well said, Rudy,” shouted Antoni, clapping his hands loudly, much to everyone’s surprise. Standing in front of him, Jessica pulled his head down and kissed him. Trevor and Rudy shared a knowing look. Perhaps their relationship had not been the only holiday romance.
One by one, they arranged dishes of food onto the table. Rudy came last, holding a large platter with the roast turkey surrounded by golden roasted potatoes and balls of chestnut stuffing. The whole arrangement looked like something found on a Christmas card. After they had all snapped photos, Mrs M joined them from the kitchen. Before they sat, Monica had always kicked off Christmas lunch with a short speech. Mary had already taken her seat at the table, her back to the window, complaining about aching feet. Hardly anyone noticed Rudy walk up to Mrs M and hand her the small remote control.
One by one, from left to right, the shutters on the windows began to slide open, revealing the incredible view of the outside world. Everyone still standing gasped in unison. Snow fell unending across the sweeping winter wonderland as bleached light flooded the room. Only Mary struggled to turn to witness the marvel. Eventually, she pushed back her chair, stood awkwardly and joined the rest of them.
“Come on,” instructed Mrs M before long. “Let’s eat before everything gets cold.”
Turkey-carving duties performed, vegetables passed clockwise around the table, Christmas crackers pulled and generous glasses of wine poured, everyone got into the Christmas spirit, eating, chatting excitedly and laughing together. Mrs M had also created a leek, mushroom and goat’s cheese roulade of filo pastry, which turned out to be one of Mary’s favourites. By the time dessert came out—a homemade Christmas pudding the size of a bowling ball with a sprig of holly on top accompanied by a crystal bowl of pink and custard sherry trifle—everyone groaned aloud, some complaining about not being able to eat another morsel.
Jessica had assigned named place settings that put Trevor opposite Rudy rather than next to him. Now and again, they caught each other’s eye and smiled. Despite having friends around the table who Trevor had known most of his life—and even an ex-husband—something about Rudy felt warmly familiar. At one point, as Trevor took a sip of wine while listening to Antoni gush about his new phone, he felt a socked foot beneath the table rub against the shin of his jeans before making its way up between his thighs. Spluttering his drink, he explained to a quizzical Antoni about his mild case of indigestion at having overeaten. Across the table, Rudy chuckled into his napkin until Trevor reached down and squeezed his big toe, making him yelp and yank his foot away. When, this time, Antoni looked puzzled across the table at him, Rudy said one word.
“Cramp.”
After dessert, there came a selection of cheese, biscuits, dates and Turkish delight, courtesy of Johnny and Frank’s Turkish adventure, accompanied by freshly brewed coffee, courtesy of Colombia. Mellowed by food and alcohol, everyone relaxed back in their seats, enjoying Mary’s musical collection, which mainly consisted of modern pop songs. Maybe Frank noticed a nodding head or two because he decided to wake up proceedings.
“Truth or Dare!” he called. “Come on, it’s a Christmas tradition.”
