Page 1 of Snowed in with My Pucking Ex
Chapter One
Winter
“Fa-la-la-la-laaaaaa,” I sing the carol loudly as I take in the snowy white winter wonderland before me. It must’ve just finished snowing this morning because the roads have been clear for the most part, and the fields remind me of pillowy blankets, undisturbed. When I received the call to come home for Christmas, I knew I had to oblige. Although it’s not quite Christmas yet. It’s not even Thanksgiving, but that’s beside the point because we all know Christmas is a season, not just a date.
My gaze pings around the freshly swept snow that’s piled on each side of the road, taking in the various snow drifts. It looks like I’ve stepped right into a postcard; it’s so serene and beautiful. It’s like I’m seeing it all for the first time, when in reality, I was lucky enough to grow up with this every year. Now, I can easily see that I’d taken advantage of it back then, ignoring nature’s beauty for what it truly is.Peace.
Gah, I missed this place.
I know a large portion of people dread going home for the holidays, or simply returning to the town they grew up in-in general, but I’m not one of them. Especially not during the holidays. It’s quite the opposite, in fact, and when I get the rare opportunity to return for Christmas, I can’t seem to get back home fast enough.
I carefully remove the Styrofoam disposable cup from my center console cup holder and take a small sip. Even almost an hour later, the liquid is still hot. Like magic. Everything during this time of the year is a blissful wonder; the air is filled with crisp, freshly fallen snow, hot apple cider, or hot cocoa, people are a pleasant mix of cheerfulness, and kindness is spread in abundance. Don’t get me started on the decorations. They’re one of my favorite parts of all. The twinkling lights bring a touch of sparkle to even the simplest of items. Such as an old broken-down tractor in the middle of a pasture, and suddenly it’s not arusted piece of metal, but a feature piece, bringing the“oh’s and ah’s”from a person driving by.
“Per-rum-pum-pum-pummm,” My voice fills the car as the next song plays. Another one of my favorites, but really, who doesn’t have several favorite Christmas songs? I’d almost be worried if someone didn’t have at least three they could belt out at a moment’s notice.
Am I a little too cheery? Perhaps. However, I have good reason to be smiling from ear to ear. I’ve been blessed with the next month off from work, and I’m refusing to spoil even a single minute of it. I can’t exactly afford that much time off in one big chunk, but that’s where home comes in. I’ll have a warm bed. The best cooking aside from my Nan’s, God rest her soul. And, to top it off, I’ll be able to work part-time at the holiday festival while I’m in town to help substitute for my normal income.
See? You’d be singing too.
Manheim Steamrollerbegins to play next as my little car scoots right along, my head bopping, hands moving like I’m heading up a symphony. I doubt that’s the correct terminology for the guy who stands up at the front, flailing his hands around, but you get the picture. “This is what I’m talking about! Keep playing the good stuff,Pandora!” The only thing that’d make this any better right now is if Delilah were dj’ing, but they save her good stuff for later in the day.
“A composer!” I shout suddenly as the name comes to me. I’m glad there’s no traffic around or they’d probably think I’m a crazy person right now, but I promise I’m not.
I can’t help but beam as I think about what’s to come. I’m one day closer to my mom’s famous pumpkin pie, turkey dinner, and stuffing my gullet with all the rolls I can squirrel away. We’ll watch football and eat way too much while Dad yells at whichever teams are playing in the big game. He’ll probably complain as he does every year about there not being a hockeygame on to watch afterward, but overall, he’ll be in a good mood and try to help out wherever he can.
After Thanksgiving, cue all the Christmas shin-digs I love. There’s the holiday renaissance fair in the next town over, the day after Thanksgiving, where they dress up in sweeping dresses and have a positively whimsical Mr. and Mrs. Claus taking pictures with everyone. Next comes our local holiday market, which is literally my favorite and the one I help work at each year. A week later, there is the children’s Nutcracker performance at the theatre in the closest city, Noelville. After that, there’s the local holiday dance held downtown, otherwise known as the Jingle Bell Swing, put on right before Christmas.
In between all of those fun activities, we fill in the twelve days until Christmas with our Advent calendars, which are full of candies and cheerful festive notes. We paint ornaments, trim the tree, and decorate the front porch. Then, we bake until my arms feel like they may fall off, and I need to be rolled out of the kitchen from consuming so many cookies. And, once all the baking is complete, we surprise friends, family, and neighbors with cookie baskets, along with holiday cards.
I think my number one favorite out of it all is when we watch a millionHallmarky-typemovies in between all of the different events. Toss in some hockey and football games with Dad and Pop to keep things interesting. And then finally, last but one-hundred percent not least, spending Christmas day with the people I love the most while enjoying beingpresent. It’s a lot to take in, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I pass the‘Welcome to the village of Noel Falls (Population 6,949)’sign, and I can almost see home already. Not really, I’m actually almost at the bottom of a giant mountain I have to drive over first, but in my mind, I’m already picturing the long driveway leading to my family home. I carefully sip from my hot cocoa once more, humming in delight as the velvety, rich textureof sweet chocolate with whipped cream bursts over my tongue. I generally prefer mini marshmallows with sprinkles, and enough so that they fall out of the top of my mug, but they didn’t have any. I figure beggars can’t be choosers, though, and when I stopped to get gas, I saw they had my favorite cold-weather drink. Once I realized they also had vanilla cappuccino and that I could mix the two, I knew I had to have it. People who haven’t mixed hot cocoa and vanilla cappuccino are surely missing out. I could live off the stuff if I didn’t need to randomly supply my belly with tacos, pizza, and all the other fine fixin’s out there.
I’m a foodie, in case you haven’t figured that much already. It’s one of the many things I struggle with, as I generally tend to want to overeat a little too much if I don’t put my foot down and stop it. Needless to say, I have a butt. It’s a big one, and some pretty banging curves if I do say so myself. I once heard the term more cushion for the pushin’ and since then, I’ve decided I’m fine with my glorious love handles.
“Santa, baby, bring me a,” I sing just as my car lets out a very unbecoming sputtering noise.
“Uh, did I just hear that correctly?” I glance at the speedometer, along with every other light and little symbol the screen on my car possesses, but it’s not giving me any clues. The noise happens again, and my car drops speed for a moment before picking back up.
“What is that?” I continue talking to myself, hoping it’ll give me a sign of some sort, which is pretty normal for me. Just then, it happens again, for a third time. Before I have a chance to further investigate, my brakes lock up and then my car begins to spin.
“Shoot, shoot, shoot!”
I turn into the slide and take my feet off the brake, hoping I’ll eventually slow down, and this doesn’t end up in a similar fashion as winter of twenty-eighteen did. Back then, I’d endedup sliding all over the road and had eventually plowed straight into a fence. My bad luck didn’t end there, though, as I managed to keep sliding until my car was stuck in the middle of a giant cow pasture, somehow missing the bumper. It wasn’t a good look, and it was a pain in the butt helping put the fence back together because that’s what you do here. You see someone in need, or you mess up somehow, you pitch in to help fix whatever catastrophe there is. I’d had blisters on both hands for forever, it seemed, from learning how to put up a fence in the middle of winter.
My body shudders with the memory.
I’m steadily turning my wheel, attempting to keep a calm mind when the car begins to slide off to the side. No matter how many times I chant or do everything right, it slips off the road and right into the deeply piled snow. The same white stuff I’d been admiring and singing the praises of before. “You weren’t sputtering, were you? You were hitting ice, and I wasn’t paying close enough attention when it first happened.” I sigh for the millionth time, running my hands over my face. “Rookie mistake, and I know better,” I mutter dejectedly, shaking my head. I inhale deeply and then blow out a long breath, searching for my inner Zen.
I don’t bother grabbing my cell, it’d only be a waste of time as I already know there’s no reception right here. Having grown up in the area, I’m aware of all the spots where cell phone service is blocked; it’s part of the curse of being in the mountains. Noel Falls happens to be in a valley at the bottom of the stunning snow-capped mountains, and even with it being the age of technology, cell phone service still doesn’t work everywhere it needs to. I’m going to have to hoof it down the road a ways until I get some service bars on my phone and can call for a ride. I guess I should be glad it happened this early in the month, before arandom blizzard hits and the snow’s too deep to get my car out easily enough.
I turn off the radio because I need to concentrate and not distract myself by belting out festive lyrics. Now is not the time to be singingJingle Bell Rock,when I’ll be jingle bell freezing my tush off walking down the road. “Come on, Matilda, you can do this.” I talk to my baby, rubbing the dashboard, then pop the gear into reverse. I give it a little gas, knowing you never gun the accelerator in a situation such as this. A sloshing sound fills the air, and my car goes nowhere. Not even an inch.
“Well, it was worth a try,” I attempt to reason and put the gear back into park. There’s no reason to get mad over something I have no control over, so it is what it is. See? That’s my innerholiday Zenworking already.
Spinning around, I reach between the seats, grabbing my coat, gloves, and hat. Thankfully, I learned early on to expect any kind of weather here, so I’ve packed my suitcase to be prepared. I’ll have to leave my other belongings for now, but it’s no big deal. I’ll have it by tomorrow, I’m sure.
“Alright, it’s going to be cold as icicles out there, and my nose will freeze, but it’s okay. Everything is okay, I’m okay, the car’s okay, this entire situation is a-o-kay.” I keep talking to myself as I shift around, putting each arm inside my coat, then stuff my wallet into my inside pocket, and tug the front zipper all the way up to my chin. My favorite white beanie with puff on top goes next, and finally, my gloves. I stuff my cell into my coat pocket, zipping it for good measure, because I’m not about to take a chance of it falling out and me getting my tinsel in a tangle before I even arrive at my destination.
