Page 46 of Salvaging Christmas

“With what?” said Jessica. “If there are shovels, they must be kept outside.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” said Trevor, huffing and noticing Mrs M stifling her humour. “There are other ways of getting outside besides the doors, you know. Talk about a bunch of drama queens.”

Without another word, he turned and headed back to his bedroom. He pulled open the short curtains to his window to inspect the scene. Even though the snow had stopped falling and the sun shone, overnight drifts had almost reached the windowsill. Almost. He pulled on the handle to the lead-framed panes and, despite letting a smattering of powdery snowfall onto the bedroom floor, managed to open the window. After throwing on a thick coat and boots and squeezing into warm gloves, he dragged a small chair beneath the window, clambered outside and ended up chest deep in snow.

Rudy had shown him the small lean-to container at the back of the house where they stored tools and gardening equipment, as well as shovels and salt grit in case of this very occurrence. He just hoped the structure had not been submerged too deeply in snow, which would be an inconvenience but not a showstopper. On his slow progress there—the back of the lodge had seen the worst of the blizzard, and walking was difficult, one deep footfall after another—he noted they would need muscle and hard work at some point to clear the cars of snow. However, the front of the building had escaped the worst of the drift, and someone had already cleared the container of snow. And, right then, he heard the sound of someone digging. Hurrying forward as best he could, his heart leapt at the anticipation of seeing Rudy again.

When he reached the lodge door, instead of Rudy, he found a red-faced Karl there, bent double and shovelling hard. In an unusual turnaround, his heart pinched with disappointment on finding his ex-husband there, something that had never happened. When he heard Karl mutter a curse, he laughed out loud, which instantly drew his ex-husband’s attention.

“How did you get out here?” asked Trevor. “Did you clamber through a window like me?”

“Walked through the sliding porch door at the front. I overheard them fretting and thought I’d sort the problem out. Can’t have Mary feeling trapped in the lodge, not in her condition. And if I’d been unable to get the porch door open, I’d have climbed onto the balcony of our bedroom and jumped off. Lots of soft snow to land in. Good to have you here, though, Mac. Another pair of hands never hurt.”

Working alongside Karl felt familiar and awkward at the same time. Together they had decorated rooms in their old apartment, had laid a carpet in one of the bedrooms. Working side by side was nothing new.

But still.

“You like him, don’t you?” said Karl out of the blue, pausing for a second to wipe his brow and puff out a steamy breath. “The Scotsman? I notice the way you look at him.”

“I am allowed to look at other people, Karl. If you can—” Trevor realised how he sounded and stopped talking.

“I know, I know,” said Karl, holding a palm up in defence. “I wasn’t accusing you or anything. Believe it or not, I’m really pleased to see you looking happy.”

“You are?”

“Of course I am,” Karl said, leaning on his shovel and gently shaking his head. “Well, okay, at first I felt a little weirded out. Jealous, I suppose. Not sure I ever made you feel that way. Until Mary pointed out I was being a selfish prick and a hypocrite. As you can tell, she tends to say exactly what she thinks. And she asked me why I can’t just let go and be happy for you. So that’s what I’m trying to do.”

Cheryl’s recent words came back to him then, about how ‘we all need to grow up and move on at some point’. She had been talking about her and Hannah, but the same applied to him and Karl.

“Hope this doesn’t sound shallow, Karl,” began Trevor as they both continued to dig, “because I mean it as a compliment. But one thing I admired about being with you was that I could always rely on you for practical things. Mary’s going to need that once the baby’s born.”

Next to him, Karl abruptly stopped digging.

“I’m terrified, Trevor. What the hell do I know about bringing up a child?”

“What does anyone? Talk to some people who already have kids. Mrs M, Mary’s mum and dad. How about your brother and his wife? Don’t they have two kids now?”

“Three.”

“Three!” said Trevor. “When did that happen? Are they going for a football team?”

Karl chuckled and picked up his shovel again.

“We did a weekend with them and their newborn. And, of course, you know me—I did a heap of research with pamphlets and self-help books. The literature I could handle. Even the prenatal clinics with Mary and other mums-to-be were bearable with the toy baby doll. As for the practical experience? Scared me half to death. Seems to me that all babies do is eat, sleep, scream at the top of their lungs and shit on you.”

“I hear that continues on into their teenage years. Metaphorically speaking, for the last one.”

Once again, hearing Karl laugh lightened Trevor’s mood.

“Don’t forget I’m at the end of a phone if you need to vent, or talk—or whatever,” said Trevor. “Not sure I’ll be ready to babysit until he’s at least on solids, using a proper toilet unaided and talking politics.”

“Uncle Trevor,” said Karl, testing the words. “Yeah, I like that. You know, Mary had been dead set on calling him Damian—you know, after Damian Ingram, the Bull's star player. But after Frank’s comment about Rosemary’s Baby she changed her mind.”

“Yes, well, don’t even think about calling him Trevor. Clever Trevor, when I got something wrong, Whatever Trevor when I tried to make a suggestion, or as the girls in high school used to called me, Never Trevor. Some girls can be so cruel.”

“Point taken. But just so you know, I’d be honoured to have you babysit, whenever you’re ready. Come on, let’s get this finished.”

Unblocking the pathway to the door proved a lot harder than expected, and half an hour later, they had both built up quite a sweat from the exertion. Just as Trevor scooped the last chunks away from the doorstep, his phone pinged in his pocket. While Karl stepped in front and took a couple of attempts to haul the door open, Trevor checked his phone.

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