Capricorn Christmas

Four Bad Watermelons

Boxing Day came and went.  Nobody asked about Jared because nobody knew about him and there was no way I was going to let anyone know that I'd been ghosted by some guy who was mediocre at best.  It was the morning of the 27th and my parents were helping me pack to head back to Saskatoon.  I felt a little cheated that my Christmas break was being cut short, but I couldn't wait to get this cast cut off. 

I didn't need music for my drive back.  My mind was occupied with hypothetical conversations I'd never have with Jared.  Some conversations were sarcastic and curt, others cool and calculated, I even snuck in a searching for answers, but that wasn't my style.  We'd had such a good time the weeks leading up to Christmas I had to admit I was confused and just so so disappointed which are emotions I hadn't felt in a long time and was not comfortable sitting with. Typically things tended to to my way, expect that summer that my mom brought home four bad watermelons.  It was devastating, but you just had to scoop up these feeling and throw them in the weeds around the dugout. 

It was cold and clear.  The roads were good and I was shocked to see the big red digital numbers welcoming me to Saskatoon at the crematorium.  Twenty minutes later I arrived at the house.  It had only been a few days, but it looked deserted.  Amy and Amanda wouldn't be home for another week and I was looking forward to a little time to myself to lick my wounds.  My parents bless their brains had packed all my stuff in laundry baskets and tied ropes to them so I could pull my stuff along with me to the door.  They'd also secured towels and bungee cords across top so I could just pull them out of the back of my car without all the contents spilling out.  "Gotta love that farmer engineering," I said as I pulled the first basket out of the car and drug it to the front door. 

It took four trips back and forth to get everything in the house.  I saw the neighbour watching me from the window with a coffee in hand.  I waved and he looked embarrassed.  I didn't mind that he was watching.  I mean, it was probably a pretty entertaining thing to see, but he probably felt bad that he hadn't come out to help.  My heart was pounding from the exertion of unpacking and the snow around the laundry baskets was melting in the entry way.  For a good five minutes I stared at the ceiling before I heard the tell scraping sound of a shovel.  I poked my head out the door, my sock getting absolutely soaked in the melting snow. 

"Hi," my neighbour stopped shovelling, "you still have that cast." "Ya," I opened the door a bit wider to show him even through he'd just watched me make four trips back and forth with my laundry basket luggage, "I'm getting it off tomorrow though... Thank God!" "I was thinking you were back a bit early.  It'll be good to get that off eh?" pointing with his shovel.  "Oh ya no for sure," I replied, "Guess I'll have to start doing my own shovel now that I'm getting both legs back."  He laughed, "I don't mind doing it." "I really appreciate it!" Waving I closed the door.  I guess there were still some good watermelons out there.