Mason's Winter
“Mostly.” She is lost to the picture.
“Is there anything important that you want me to go and get from them?” Her eyes met mine, and I can see that she’s on the verge of tears.
“No, nothing. They kept the expensive gifts my mom picked out for Christmas or my birthdays that he paid for.”
Pulling her close to me, I remind her, “It’s still yours, but if you don’t want to bother, that’s fine too.”
She shakes her head, then looks up with me without pain and says, “I don’t. All of that stuff was in my jewelry box because my mom only bought that stuff to show me off. It wasn’t because she loved me.”
“Do you want to talk about that?” I want to know how she feels so I can make it better. This is a big deal; most mothers love their children unconditionally even if they have moments where they don’t like us very much. My mom would attest to that. In fact, her voicemail last night reminded me of that. She told me I better be working on nailing my baby mama since I’m too busy to answer for her. I quietly sent her a text back last night. I’m trying, but you’re killing the mood. Call you tomorrow.
“There’s not much to say. She’s a selfish person who looks out for her needs. I came from her first marriage. My dad died in a work accident, so she got a huge settlement, and then when the money ran dry, she refused to do anything but look for the next man with money to chase.”
“I’m sorry about that. We can’t pick our parents, but luckily, we can learn from them and not make their same mistakes. What about your father?”
“Oh, he was loving. Every week we’d have a father-daughter date in the city. I was ten when he died. He’s the reason I’m named Winter,” she finishes just as her stomach rumbles. She giggles and covers her stomach with her hands.
“Really. This is a story I’d love to hear, but first, let’s get some coffee and breakfast.” We go into the kitchen and set up the things we need for some pancakes and eggs. I point out where she can get the coffee things.
Her stomach rumbles again, and I tease, “Hey keep your hangry monster under control. Food is coming soon.”
“Well, it seems I had a great workout last night.”
“That we did, and we will again as soon as we get that monster settled down.”
“Seems your monster needs to settle too,” she says, pointedly staring at my cock which is hard against my pajama pants.
“Get used to it. You’ve awakened a beast.” She walks past me and runs her hand over my bulge, giggling while I groan. “Breakfast is almost done,” I tell her, ignoring the tease because I’m about to bend her over and pin her to the table with my cock.
She looks around and finds the plates, setting them up on the breakfast bar. Just as we’re digging in, my phone rings. It’s my mother. “Good morning, Mom.”
“It’s noon. I hope that’s a good sign,” she answers.
“Yes, it is, but, woman, that’s enough of that talk. How are you doing?”
“I’m great. I called because I want to meet this woman. How long have you been dating her?” she questions.
“It’s new, but she and I have some Christmas decorating to do today, so you’ll have to wait. Maybe tomorrow,” I say, looking at Winter who’s smile spreads.
“You don’t have Christmas decorations.”
“I know, we don’t, but I’m going to buy some today.”
“We? This is serious, isn’t it?” she squeals.
“Like I said, it’s a good sign. I love you, and we’ll do dinner tomorrow night.” Winter is eating and blushing. Clearly, she heard my mother’s enthusiasm over the phone.
“Your mother?”
“Yes, sorry about that. I told you she was a bit relentless in the grandbaby area.”
“Wow, that’s wonderful.” I can see the pleasure in her eyes, knowing that not every mother is unfeeling. Mine is a lovely nutcase with a heart of gold.
“So, we need to do some Christmas shopping. Do you want a real or fake tree?”
“A real one if we can. I’ve never had one. We had the best of the best artificial ones, but never an actual Christmas Tree.”
“Okay, let’s eat and go before it gets dark. I want to pick out the best.”
“I don’t know if we’re going to find one this late in the season.”
“Then we’ll have to rope together a bunch of Charlie Brown trees.”
“Sounds like fun.”
We finish, then she finds some clean clothes to wear while I get dressed.
“What about all of this?” she asks, pointing to her pile of clothes and three boxes of belongings.
“We’ll move it to the bedroom right now if you want, but it can wait until tomorrow, so we don’t miss the light. It’s already almost one. The sun will be down in three hours.”