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Winter's Tale
Jason's Tale 09 -- FFA Forever

Jason's Tale 09 -- FFA Forever

Waking up much later, Jason was feeling much better, though hungry. Easing up, he pulled his pajama’s back up around his waist and groggily stumbled his way out down the hall and into the restroom. A few minutes washing up and splashing cold water on his face helped clear the matter from his eyes and the cobwebs from his mind.

“Pam! You up here somewhere?” Yelling, he stepped out of the bathroom and glanced up and down the hallway looking for her.

A slight thump echoed from her room, followed by what sounded like a small crash, before her door opened and she rushed out, rubbing lazily at her eyes. “Yeah! I’m here. Are you okay? Do you need me?” Leaning up against her doorframe, she was wearing the pajama top that matched his bottom, trying hard to wake up.

“Sorry,” Jason muttered. “I’m fine. I didn’t know you were asleep or I wouldn’t have yelled and woke you.”

“Slo’kay,” Pam yawned. Raising her arms high over her head, she stretched freely, pulling the shirt up and unconsciously showing everything. Grateful he’d already washed the sleep from his eyes, Jason stared hungrily at her for several moments while he thought she wouldn’t notice, and then turned his back and started to slowly walk to his room to hide the blushing grin that spread across his face. “Whatcha need?” Pam asked, yawning again, oblivious to it all.

“I was just going to ask if supper was ready yet, and if you’d mind bringing it up to me in a while,” Jason told her, easing back into his own room. “I can come downstairs if it’s a bother,” he offered.

“Not a bother. Just give me a moment to get dressed and then I’ll go down and see what’s available and bring something up for you,” was the soft response that followed him into the room.

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Quickly going back into her room and changing into a clean uniform and panties, Pam rushed downstairs, bare feet making soft pattering sounds on the step as she went. Remembering the kitchen chair she’d left in the bathing room, Pam worked her way through the servant hall to get it. Dragging it behind her, she worked her way back to the main sitting room and then stopped.

“Mrs. Craimer,” Pamela exclaimed! “What a surprise. I didn’t realize you were home already.”

“Is it that surprising to see me in my own house?” Reclining on the couch, both feet propped up on the cushions with her shoes scattered on the floor around her, was Jason’s mother. Still beautiful at the age of thirty-two, she looked much too young and vibrant to be mother to a child as old as Jason. In fact, there were times when people mistakenly thought of her as his sister – though she quickly and unabashedly corrected such misconceptions.

Mrs. Craimer had been a wild child in her youth, had gotten pregnant by the time she was fourteen, and unlike some in her situation, she wasn’t the least bit ashamed of herself. It was a part of her past, a part of who she was, and if anyone didn’t like it, she simply didn’t like that person in return. Stubborn, she didn’t care what people said about her. If they thought she was some greedy gold-digger chasing a man twenty years her senior, that was their problem, not hers.

Laughing lightly, she sat upright and patted the couch beside her. “Come. Join me for a few minutes. Care for a glass of wine?” Picking up a crystal glass from the stand beside her, she tantalizingly held it out towards Pam.

“You know I’m not allowed to drink, Mrs. C.” Smiling brightly, Pam skipped over and curled up on the couch beside her. If it would’ve been Jason’s father, Pam would have politely refused, excused herself to do some chore, and then rushed off. She found him old, stuffy, dry, hard to relate to, and intimidating. Jason’s mom on the other hand was a much more relaxed and casual person, who she didn’t feel like she had to be on her guard with all the time.

“More for me then,” Jason’s mother joked, taking a slight sip from the glass before sitting it back down. Brushing her hands through her long black hair, she sighed slightly to herself. “It’s starting to go gray,” she mused softly. “I guess it’s just a sign I’m getting old.”

“You’re not old Mrs. C,” Pam assured her cheerfully, “and it’s not gray. It’s pure silver strands, plucked from the filament of the heavens, placed carefully amongst the shadows of your hair to reflect the light of your smile and bedazzle the world!”

“Oh! Aren’t you a cleaver girl, good with words!” Laughing merrily, Jason’s mom reached over and ruffled Pam’s hair slightly. “I like that,” she admitted, “but I know the truth. My family always grayed early on the women’s side. I expect I’ll be peppered in another two or three years and probably fully grey by the time I’m forty. It’s just the way it is.”

“You could always dye it,” Pam suggested. “I’m certain I could help you with it, or grandmother, if you didn’t want to go somewhere else to have it done.”

“What?!” Sitting upright, Jason’s mother put her hands to her face and over exaggerated looking shocked. “And hide the silver strands of heaven’s something something?! Never!”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Pam giggled lightly, shrugging. “It was just an idea.”

“Perish the thought,” Jason’s mother said, waving her hands dismissively. “If I grow all gray, people might quit telling how my husband robbed the cradle with me. Like that’s any of their business,” she laughed. “Busy bodies always want to find something to gossip about.”

“But enough about them. Tell me how’s my boy,” she said, changing the subject. “I don’t see him nearly enough. I know, I know, I’m a terrible mother.”

“You’re not a terrible anything, Mrs. C,” Pamela assured her. “You’re just busy, and Jason understands that. He’s proud of you and Mr. Craimer, you know. Your husband might be the fancy lawyer that deals with all the business stuff, but you’re the one who helps keep his image polished and works the media and publicity. Just between us,” Pam leaned up and whispered, “Mr. Craimer has all the personality of a withered up piece of old sandpaper. If you didn’t keep the name out there and relevant, most people would forget who he is – like that guy in those eye drop commercials.”

Laughing gaily, Jason’s mom reached over and tussled Pam’s hair. “Is that any way to talk about your employer? Or my husband?”

“It is,” Pam giggled, “when he isn’t around to hear it.”

Laughing, Jason’s mom picked up her glass and took another sip of it. “So how is my boy then? All well?”

“He’s fine,” Pam assured her, straightening up and getting serious herself. “He forgot to take his medicine again today at school, and yesterday he told Gran that he’d been bullied by one of the jerks again. They stole one of his books or something.”

Sighing, Jason’s mom shook her head sadly. “Jackasses,” she muttered softly.

“Jackasses,” Pamela agreed, before adding, “but don’t say anything about them. Jason asked grandmother to keep it quiet. He was afraid his father might want to try to sue someone or something.”

“Crusty old stuck-up fart probably would,” Mrs. Craimer agreed. “He’d call it a matter of pride or something. Don’t worry, I won’t mention it. I’ll mull it over for a bit and see if I can come up with something to do. How have you been doing yourself?” She asked offhandedly.

“I’m rotten,” Pam admitted, hanging her head, a few tears starting to well up in the corner of her eyes. “Jason’s going to end up hating me.”

“Awwwwww sweetie, Jason’s not going to hate you.” Sitting down her wine, Jason’s mother reached and pulled Pam over close, hugging her. “What makes you think something like that?”

“Because I’ve been doing a lot of things I shouldn’t,” Pam told Jason’s mom, looking up with little tears in her eyes. “I told his gaming helmet without asking. I snooped around his account to see what he was going, just so I could play the same game he was, and then I even made my own account with his gear. I followed him into the game, and I don’t even know what I’m doing. I’m a creepy idiot stalker girl.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Mrs. Craimer laughed. “I chased after a gentleman twice my age because he had fancy cars, took me to elaborate places to eat, and showed me a side of life I’d never imagined. I did a lot more than you ever have, and I don’t regret one moment of it. I found a home. Family. People who love me. And, I’ve never wanted for anything. Chasing after something you want doesn’t make you an idiot. It just means you’re not afraid to chase after something you’re interested in.”

Softly, Jason’s mother asked, “Why exactly did you do those things?”

“I was really just wondering if I could help Jason somehow in the game, or something,” Pamela admitted softly. “I just don’t think that’s going to be possible.”

“Why not dear? I’m certain Jason would love for you to join him playing whatever game it is.”

“There’s only one headset,” Pamela explained quietly, wiping at her face. “Only one of us could log into the game at a time, no matter what.”

“Well that’s easy to fix,” Mrs. Craimer told Pam, pulling her up and kissing her on the head lightly. “I’ll just pick up another one of these helmet thingies, and then you can keep it in your room. It’ll be a secret between us girls. What do you think?”

Shocked, Pam stared up at Jason’s mom wide-eyed. “You’d do that?”

“Well, I don’t see why I wouldn’t dear. Us girls have to stick together after all. Now,” she leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “tell me all the juicy dirt you uncovered. Is there anything I’m probably not supposed to know?”

“Well…” Frowning a little, Pam thought for a moment, figuring out where to start. “I think he likes a smooth bikini bottom for starters…”

Giggling girlishly, Mrs. Craimer huddled in close to compare notes about the differences and similarities between father and son, thoroughly determined that no secret was going to be safe from the FFA -- Fantastic Females Association -- which they’d just formed together!