Jen's Legacy.
He has job to do, my dear.

Her grandmother walked over and sat on the bed with her, taking her into her arms as she used to do when Claire was a little girl.

She was repeating herself, but if that was what it took...? “He’s at the hospital. He’s working. There was a really bad accident outside of town with a lot of people injured… and some dead. They’re still sorting it out and getting everyone brought in. He’s needed there. I guess he didn’t tell you about that part of his life, about him being a surgeon.”

Claire shook her head. “No, we didn’t have time. We would have got around to discussing those things, I am sure, but I began to wonder.”

“He’s a surgeon, and a damned good one. A trauma surgeon who deals with emergencies as they walk in off the street or get carried through the door—the latter usually. In my opinion, he’s one of the best in the country, and we got him.

“He and Jen, his... late wife, wrote the book on it, and we almost had them both in this place, except….” Claire knew about the, ‘except’.

“How do you know about Jen?”

Her gran sighed. “I know a lot about her, just like I know about Royce. That’s something else for us to talk about when we get chance.”

She had a lot to tell her gran, about Jen, too.

“He said he would come back for me?” She needed to hear that again, still not trusting what she felt.

“Almost his exact words. He couldn’t bear to leave you, or to have to explain it to you, so he called me. He’ll be back for you, Honey. Have no doubt about that. Wild horses couldn’t keep him away.”

Or off her either, once he got himself stuck into her granddaughter’s vagina again. She was still leaking. The tissues had slipped. How much had he left in her?

“He shouldn’t have left, Gran. He needs me.” She was worried about him as much as he’d worried about her. She corrected herself.

“I need him. I am nothing without him.”

She knew how she felt.

Love could be hell at times, and they were in love.

“You are not, ‘nothing’, my love. You are the woman he loves, and that makes you 'everything' to him. You gave him his life back and even brought him here for us. He’ll be all the stronger for knowing that you are waiting for him, my dear; you can be his solid bulwark, as solid as the rock of Gibraltar, as my grandfather used to say.

“I’ll explain exactly what he is doing, later, so don’t let it get to you. He had no choice about going. I’ll explain more of it to you when we are alone, but don’t say anything to your mother or father. They’re waiting in the car for us, but don’t worry about it.”

As though on cue, her phone went.

“Your father, of course.” She answered it.

“Yes, Alfred. I’m alright. We’ll be a few more minutes.” She hung up.

“He gets his knickers in a twist too easily, poor man. When we join them, say as little as you can.

“It may take a few days, but Royce will be back for you.”

“He shouldn’t have gone without telling me, Gran.”

“Maybe not. Too late to worry about that. You should get into a bath before you do anything else, my love, and get... cleaned up.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

She stood up with her grandmother, still seemingly unaware, or uncaring that she was naked, and led the way into the bathroom, getting the shower started, before dropping the damp tissues into the toilet bowl.

Mrs. Prescott watched her shower, envying her her youthful body that a man could now appreciate properly. She marveled at the changes in her granddaughter, completely at ease being naked, when not so long ago she would have closed and locked the door to keep even her gran out of the shower and from watching her. The last few days, with Royce charging into her life and invading her body (and vice versa; invading her life and charging into her body; she could imagine it) like a bull-elephant in ‘must’, had changed her into a woman.

Her grandmother saw other things in the trash-can too. There was a lot of dark pubic hair that hadn’t come off her granddaughter. They’d both done a personal grooming job on each other from what she’d seen of her granddaughter’s snatch; as bald as a billiard ball. She chuckled.

That humorous thought would not leave her mind. Someone had taken a lot of care over that and no doubt she’d been just as careful with him. No wonder the bed was awash with stains. No wonder she was upset that Royce had gone without one last tumble to soak the sheets, and to tide them over for when they saw each other again.

She photographed everything with her phone. Even photographing Claire again, as she had done from time to time ever since she’d first entered that room, but doing it without being too obvious, she hoped.

While Claire was in the shower, she went back into the main room and inspected what she could, turning down the bed even more; noting the extensive damp areas. God, they’d been busy little beavers, going at it like weasels and with only the one obvious place where anyone had been lying! They had been that close all night, always one or the other on top, never getting enough of each other. Yes, that was love, too. She took other photographs.

She saw his things and his backpack on the stand at the foot of the other bed, and his Denim Jacket lying on it.

Claire’s shirt and shorts were on that radiator but there was no sign of her swimsuit.

There was a note left on the bedside table with two wedding bands lying on it. One might think that he and Claire had got married, except they hadn’t had time.

She strained to read it and then realized that she shouldn’t.

She heard the shower turn off and watched as Claire came out of the bathroom drying her hair. The older woman had had a body like that, forty-years ago, but now her breasts hung an inch lower, while her granddaughter’s jiggled with firmness.

She smiled again. Yes. As bald as a billiard ball. She felt like laughing. Suntanned all over too, as though she had been running around naked all of that time. Maybe they had, in that flush of first love. No wonder they didn’t want a rescue party finding them. Some things it might be better not to know too much about. Or could be asked about later.

She was happy for Claire. To get to that stage of personal intimacy required a deep level of understanding and trust.

She helped Claire get dry and was able to inspect her body closely, pulling her around to move her to where the light was strongest. Claire did not object. There were no obvious marks on her from the dunking in the river. Fortunately, she hadn’t broken anything getting bounced off rocks. Her feet had received most of the punishment. Them, and that personal place of hers, of course. It had been receiving a lot of punishment from what she’d seen leaking from her.

“Did he do this for you?” Dumb question. Who else could have done it? She dried over where Claire had been groomed. Of course he’d done it. “Very daring, and in only six days?”

The fire of love was something she well remembered for herself.

Claire’s lips were pressed tight together, frowning at her grandmother’s wicked sense of humor and pushing boundaries around. Claire was not yet ready for a discussion of what he had or had not done to her, or anything like that.

She laid out Claire’s clothing from that carry-all on the bed. It was all simple, grabbed out of her drawer, but clean, and at least there were bra and panties to go under the shirt and jeans this time.

She could wear Royce’s Jacket if she was cold, though she’d only have to walk to the car. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Your mother and father are outside, so don’t say anything they might ask questions about. There’ll be more than enough of those anyway, but just sidestep them or ignore them. Plead that you are tired after your adventure, and you and I will talk privately later.” She sighed.

“You are looking well. You lost a couple of pounds, but you’ve filled out in other ways, and I like that look on your face and in your eyes. I like what I see, but I always did. I’ve never seen you so calm, and never so comfortable to be wandering around without a shred of clothing on you. I guess it’s what you get used to. And who you let get close to you.” Claire had that defiant look about her, determined never to be shy again.

They sat on the bed together again before they went out to the car, and held hands. In some ways they were like sisters, or like a true mother and daughter.

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