Jen's Legacy.
An eye-opening wake-up.

Claire was awoken by the snap of the door being closed firmly, and then locked.

Royce was not beside her, as he had been all night, but where he had been was still warm, and damp; both the bed, and her.

She was lost at first. The curtains were drawn to keep out the day-light, but from the little that she could see, it was still mostly dark outside.

It was far too early to get up.

Then the lights came on, blinding her as she put her head back under the covers.

“Royce, must we get up already? You should come back to bed. We can make love at least another few times.”

Royce didn’t answer.

She sat up, bleary-eyed, looking around, pale, not understanding. She saw her grandmother standing just inside the door.

“Gran!" She was jolted wide awake. "What are you doing here? Where’s Royce?”

She threw back the covers even farther and swung her legs out of bed.

The first thing Mrs. Prescott saw, was that her granddaughter had been groomed between her legs (not a single hair to be seen on her there), and with her having just sat up in bed, there were other things of a personal nature leaking from her vagina to join the other stains on the sheets; but her granddaughter seemed to know none of that, either. It was body-temperature, so she wouldn't notice.

Royce had left her like that, not all that long ago. The pair of them had been very busy, in that biblical sense.

It was just as well that her parents were outside and knew none of this. No wonder he had wanted her grandmother to be the only one to come in, with Claire like this.

Claire felt what was happening down there and grabbed some tissues from the box on the bedside table--"shit!"--pushing them up between her legs to catch the fluids from the last few episodes of their love-making, running from her vagina, now that she’d moved.

Claire seemed not to care about anything, revealing everything, not caring about that, or how naked she was, until she knew where Royce was.

“Royce?" She checked in the bathroom, putting the lights on.

“Where is Royce?” He was the only concern on her mind.

She recalled where she was and who else was in the room, and blushed up at her grandmother; her hands fluttering to cover her breasts and between her legs, then giving up. Too late for that kind of foolish, shy girl, response.

“He’s not here, Honey. He’s needed somewhere else. And where did my shy granddaughter go? Who the hell are you? I don’t know you.”

“Gran!” She managed to sound exasperated.

Royce must have let her grandmother in. But how? He wouldn’t have answered the door as naked as he had been, but his clothes were not where she’d last seen them either, so where was he?

The question was obvious on her face.

“He just left.”

Claire sat heavily back onto the bed. It was as though her heart had turned to lead.

“But he hasn’t gone far.”

Claire adjusted the tissues, pushing them more firmly into her. She was not so shy with her grandmother, but she wasn’t sure who else might have been with her.

Her gran detected that brief concern. “Your parents are outside. They won’t be coming in, so don’t worry about that.”

“Where’s Royce, Gran? You said he just left?”

“Yes. And good morning to you too. It would be nice to be greeted with a ’Good morning, Gran, nice to see you here, after my difficult adventure that must have driven you mad with grief. How are you this morning, Gran?’”

Claire corrected her oversight.

“Good morning, Gran. And I am very thankful to see you.”

“That’s better. Good morning.” She smiled at Claire and answered her question.

“Royce had to leave. He called us ten or fifteen minutes ago and told us where you were, and what you needed, so we came over.”

She waved a hand in the general direction of her granddaughter’s lower body.

“Did he do that for you? Very daring!" Very telling, too. "It usually takes a few months; even a few years, to get to that stage with each other.” And they’d got there in just hours or days.

Claire closed her legs together and blushed. Her gran didn’t really need to ask about her having been completely shorn, did she?

Of course he had done that for her, and done a lot more besides, considering what her gran could see.

Claire didn’t need to respond, but she was also determined not to be either shy or embarrassed, so relaxed again and checked the tissues wadded up into her vagina again, firming them up. There was a lot to catch with her first sitting up. How many times had they made love to leave so much in her? She couldn’t remember. Damn!

Mrs. Prescott watched her granddaughter look around the room as she adjusted those tissues, finding out about herself, and checking various things she needed to know; with her granddaughter still marveling at what had been happening to her, and the speed with which it had all progressed.

Royce’s clothes were gone from the radiator and his boots and socks were not where she had placed them.

She didn’t understand why Royce had not woken her and told her he was going. And where had he gone? He hadn’t gone across the way to bring breakfast and coffee back for them both, not with her grandmother being here, and not without telling her.

“Why are you here, Gran?”

“I'm here because Royce called me a few minutes ago and told me where you were, and he asked me to bring you these clothes.” She pointed to the carry-all. I see the ones you were wearing have seen better days.

She dropped the sneakers into the trash to join the leftovers from their dinner of last night and she lifted the shirt between her thumb and first finger, seeing the damage to it, but it was at least, clean.

“Why isn’t Royce here? Why didn’t he wake me?” He had woken her earlier. Several times. She remembered that it seemed only moments after he’d left her body that the lights suddenly went on, jolting her awake. She’d slept.

“He had to leave.”

“Why?”

Her grandmother pointed to outside the room. “Can you hear the sirens?” Claire suddenly became conscious of them.

“Yes.”

“That’s why.” She still didn’t seem to understand.

“Why did he need to leave:” He obviously could not have told her much about himself, but they had certainly connected in other intimate ways.

"He’s a surgeon, Honey, and there’s an emergency. A bad accident. The hospital needs him.” Claire looked bewildered. This was all new to her. She’d wondered if he was a doctor, from some of the things he’d said as he’d helped her. That explained a lot of things. She hadn't known he was a surgeon.

“He’s needed at Culver General.”

He was needed here too, but he’d had a choice to make, and hadn’t liked making it.

"He left just after I spoke with him about four minutes ago outside your door.” It would register, later.

“He said to tell you that he loved you; he emphasized that, and hoped you’d understand. I was to explain it to you, and I will explain more when we get home. He also said that he’d be back to claim you when he could.

"He actually said that, over the phone when he called, which totally pissed your father off, of course. It put his back right up, knowing that he'd lost control of you to another man he'd never even met or been warned about. I had to tell your father that you were now grown up and didn't need him any more. You don't even need me.” Except she did.

She saw her granddaughter begin to calm down. Her father being pissed off didn’t worry her, but Royce’s absence did.

Claire looked deflated and the tears began. She felt suddenly very lost and lonely as though the world had just emptied of everything she most valued and needed. She was sure of what she had, and knew... when Royce was with her; but now that he wasn’t, the uncertainties washed back over her as though last week hadn’t happened. But it had.

Her body told her that it hadn’t been a dream. They had made love many times now, and she remembered that last time in a hazy kind of way as they’d rolled back and forth and he’d pushed into her again… then... nothing. He’d gone. She must have gone back to sleep with him still in her, and hadn't felt him leave her.

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