Christmas with two muscle girl's pt. 4

(If you’re new here, please read my previous posts for context before jumping into this one. Hope you enjoy!)

Later that Christmas day, Mason and I headed over to Mom’s house for dinner. We invited Liz and Jade to come along—family tradition, good food, catching up. Liz said yes immediately; she’d met Mom a few times before and always got along with her. Jade, though, politely declined.

Mason and her aren’t dating—not officially—and she didn’t want things to feel awkward. “I’d rather just be close friends for now,” she said with a small smile, kissing Mason on the cheek before he left. “Tell your mom merry Christmas for me. And don’t let her grill you too hard.”

Mason laughed—nervous but happy—and we headed out.

Mom’s house smelled like roasted turkey, cornbread dressing, and pecan pie the second we walked in. She opened the door with her usual big hug, then froze when she saw Liz standing beside me—hand in mine, promise ring glinting on her finger. Mom’s eyes went straight to it.

“Oh my goodness,” she said, voice soft. She looked between us, then at the ring again. “Is that…?” I nodded, smiling. “Yeah. I asked her to take the next step with me. She said yes.”

Mom’s eyes filled with tears—happy ones. She pulled Liz into a tight hug, then me, then both of us together. “I’m so excited for you two,” she whispered. “So excited.”

Liz smiled—trying to act normal—but I could tell she was in a little pain from our morning activities. She moved carefully, sat gingerly, kept her legs crossed tight. Every time she shifted, her breath hitched just a little. I stayed close—arm around her waist, hand on her lower back—helping steady her without making it obvious.

Mason, though… Mason was glowing. He walked in with a bounce in his step, shoulders back, chin up. He talked more than I’d ever heard him talk—laughing, telling Mom about college, the gym, his new friends, the frat guys who dragged him to parties. He was all smiles and giggles, energy crackling off him. He must’ve had one hell of a morning with Jade—dominating her the way she liked, finally finding that confidence she’d been coaxing out of him for months.

Mom kept looking between us—me holding Liz close, Mason practically vibrating with happiness—and her eyes narrowed slightly, suspicious in that mom-way. We sat down to dinner—turkey, dressing, green bean casserole, rolls, sweet potato casserole, pecan pie. Everything perfect, like always. Conversation flowed easy. Mom asked about the gym, about Mason’s classes, about Liz’s training clients. We laughed, told stories, passed plates.

But right before we left, Mom pulled us aside in the hallway—eyes twinkling with that knowing look. “Be careful, boys,” she said, winking at Mason and me. “Im not ready to be a grandmother quite yet.”

We both froze. Mason’s mouth dropped open. My face heated. “Mom—” I started.

She laughed softly. “Oh please. Your father used to get that same dopey grin after he was satisfied. I know that look. Both of you have it tonight.” We tried to deny it—stammered excuses—but she just patted my cheek, then Mason’s.

She looked at Mason first. “So… who’s the new girl?” Mason stammered, cheeks flaming. “It’s… complicated.”

Mom raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. Just smiled. Then she turned to both of us. “I raised you on traditional values. Told you intimacy was something you waited for. Our rules were meant to protect you from real world consequences. However, your both old enough to make your own decisions now.

I understand, after all I was your age once. I know what it’s like to want someone so completely.” She smiled—soft, a little wistful. “And I know you’re both smart enough to be careful.”

She hugged us both—tight, warm—then let us go. Mason and I walked out to the car in stunned silence. He finally spoke when we were halfway home. “She’s… scary perceptive.” I laughed. “Yeah. Always has been.”

Inside, my mind kept turning. I couldn’t help but wonder if being raised to think that way—waiting for intimacy, treating it as sacred—was a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe there’s no good answer. It protected us when we were young, kept us from rushing into things we weren’t ready for. But it also left scars—guilt, shame, hesitation that took years to shake off. And now, here we were—grown, happy, living our own truths. Mom saw it. She didn’t judge. She just… understood.

What a weird day.

End of part 4- Thanks for reading!