Page 15 of Snowed in with My Pucking Ex
Then there’s Gram. I swear the gleam in her eyes has only gotten brighter with each day, as she casually mentions Sean in some way. Something tells me the sparkle isn’t from the newestsnowfall we received last night, and she’s silently plotting. I guess she could be in the eggnog again, but at this point, I’m not putting anything past her and plan to keep my eye on her.
I finish feeding the chickens and collecting their eggs in a basket, then make my way toward the house. I drop the basket off next to the front door so I don’t forget to take them inside once I’m finished out here and head to the barn. I grab the first bin I find inside and trek back to the porch again. It has Christmas decorations written on it, so I’m sure we’ll need it. Mom was determined to decorate the day after Thanksgiving like we do every year; however, she hasn’t had the chance to be home much. A couple of new patients turned up at the clinic who needed to be admitted and monitored, so she’s been busy caring for them.
The bank finally got a hold of me this morning with an update. Thankfully, the phone rang in one of the few spots we have cell service at on the farm, and I was able to take their call. I’d been worried it wouldn’t be the case, and I’d end up overdrawn for the foreseeable future. Anyhow, they decided in my favor and refunded the money I was scammed out of. On the downside, I’m still waiting to get my new card in the mail. It’s okay, though, at least I have the money in my account now to pay my rent that’s overdue. It’s an automatic draft, so I don’t need my card, luckily. Since their call and the reassurance from their fraud department, it’s felt like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
Now, I need to drink plenty of cappuccinos this week to have lots of energy to get everything in order for the festival. I’ll start on the honey body butter first, since it stays the freshest longest, and the scent only gets richer with time. It’s one reason why I’ve always made it in November in the past, so the essential oils would have extra time to work their magic for the holidays.
“Hi, Winter!” Calla calls, surprising me.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice her vehicle parked in the driveway. Her breath puffs around her, and I can see the white mist from my spot as she steps off the porch. It must’ve dropped a few more degrees since I went into the barn, which means we’ll probably be getting another round of snow tonight. I need to check the forecast, because at this rate, I won’t get my car back until the spring. If that happens, my boss will not be amused at me attempting to work remotely with a temperamental internet service. I wouldn’t be surprised if my car is a solid chunk of ice from being parked on the side of the road, but it’s not something I can worry about right this minute.
Speaking of ice, the path to Gram and Pop’s place needs to be shoveled and salted. That’s one job I’ll gladly offer Sean if he shows up willing to help anytime soon. The last thing I want to do is shovel snow, and my to-do list just keeps piling up higher and higher. I wonder if Dad’s heated blower is fixed, so I can try to use it instead. The walk from house to house isn’t far, but it’s enough to have your back screaming for a solid week if you try to handle the shoveling all at once.
“Hi Calla, is everything okay?”
She nods. “Your mom asked me to drop by with some groceries.”
“Thank you. I wish she’d have said something because I would’ve gone.” Dad’s old fifties pick up will make it to the market and back, no problem. I’d have to wrap myself in a blanket since the heat doesn’t work too great, but that’s beside the point.
She waves me off, walking to her car. “I was headed there anyhow. Sean is supposed to be back tomorrow; he has two days off before his next game. Did you catch the last?”
“Yeah, uh, Dad turned it on. He played great.”
She beams. “He’ll be so happy to hear you were watching and saw him score! I’ll be sure to tell him you were watching whenhe calls tonight. Bye, Winter.” She opens her car door to climb inside.
“Wait, that’s not what I meant!” I sputter, but it’s too late. She’s already tucked inside her vehicle, putting her seatbelt on. A beat later, she’s turned her car around and is driving back down the long driveway.
“Ahhh!” I scream into the quietness, once her car has disappeared completely from view. With a heavy exhale, I set another bin of decorations on the edge of the porch.
The front door opens, and Dad pokes his head out with his brow furrowed. “Hey, everything okay out here? I thought I heard screaming?”
Just great.
I swear I’m losing my mind on this trip. My family will think I’m losing it, too, if they hear me randomly screaming outside, but I couldn’t help it. Sometimes you have so much scrambling going on in your mind that the best thing to do is to pause and yell with all of your might.
“I thought I found something, turned out to be nothing,” I reply with the straightest face I can muster.
He stares at me for a beat, and I can tell he’s not buying it one bit. He’s been around women long enough not to call me out on it, but rather, just nods. “Okay, then. Calla brought some of the fresh tomato basil soup we like from the sandwich shop with the groceries, if you’re hungry.”
We’ve been on a Thanksgiving dinner leftover kick the past few days, so soup without turkey floating in it is a nice change. I had pecan pie and whipped cream for breakfast today. I figure if I’m being forced to eat nothing but leftovers, the pie will be mine. Bedside’s pecan pie is practically the same thing as honey and granola, so it still counts as breakfast food.
I nod. “Thanks, I’m going to grab a few more bins, then I’ll be in.”
We’re interrupted by a truck coming up the driveway, its headlights shining brightly as the vehicle gets closer. It’s that weird sort of winter day, where it almost seems gray outside from the low-hanging snow clouds that hide the sun and light away. Yet, it’s bright all in the same way, from the expanse of white snow covering nearly everything.
I peer over at Dad for a second, waiting for him to go back inside. When he doesn’t budge, I eventually ask, “You expecting anybody?”
“Nope. And it’s too snowy on the mountain with the fresh powder for us to get any extra deliveries right now.” He finally hobbles out from where he’d been perched in the front doorway and ventures further onto the porch. He holds the column so he can lean over and see the truck approaching for himself. After a beat, he mutters, “Looks like Doug Henderson from the shop in town.”
“Wait, the same Doug I went to school with?” He was a grade higher, but I still saw him almost daily for most of my life. This place is small after all, and you’d have to be homeschooled in order not to know someone. Even then, it’d still be strange because the community is close-knit.
“Yep, the same one,” he confirms as the vehicle finally pulls up to the house. It’s not just any truck, either; it’s a big, beefy tow truck.
With my car hooked on the back!
Doug hops out, giving a respectful nod to Dad, and then grins my way. “Hey, Winter. I heard you were back in town for the holidays. Welcome home.”
I forgo all appropriate greetings and instead opt for, “Doug, you got my car for me?”
