Things Take Time

She was Mary, and for the last eighteen of her thirty-six years, she had lived a life as simple as her name: ordered, certain, and routine. After the brief excitement of a short-lived affair with an older man while in high school, the reality of un-wed motherhood set in. All pressures were brought to bear, and after she reluctantly agreed to give up the child for adoption, she was never the same. Youthful exuberance turned to ennui and her life became just putting one foot in front of the other. Then came the terror and confusion. In her head, the phone call had the effect of fire engines in the middle of the night. “Hello…is this Mary? This is…James…your son.” Only seconds passed but it seemed like eons before the cobwebs cleared enough for her to even say, “Who…what…?” She heard him through a fog as he explained how he had found her, how he only wanted to talk to her and how he would understand if she didn’t want to. He sounded sweet to her and the first time in a long time the feelings that welled up in her told her she had something worth living for. Their first conversation lasted two and a half hours. Over the following months Mary heard how James’ adoptive mother had died when he was only three and his father had moved them to Toronto. James heard about all the dead-end jobs and the failed marriage that Mary had been through. She heard how close he was with Brian. She heard how well he had done and how far he had come, and she was glad. He heard in her voice how poorly her life had gone and of her loneliness, and he was sorry. They fed on every detail of each other’s life. She wanted to know the color of his baseball uniform at school and he wanted to know what were the most coffee refills she had ever served anyone when she was a waitress. He told her about Karen his sixth grade crush and she told him about every town she’d been through before ending up in Charleston, South Carolina. They delighted in each other. When James told Mary that he wanted to meet her and countered every reason why she couldn’t, she finally agreed. With a flutter in her heart she headed for the airport with the ticket he had sent her for a long weekend in Toronto. He met her outside the baggage claim and she knew him. His eyes were the color of Hershey’s kisses, like hers. Even his smile said, “I know you.” He told her that she was even prettier than her voice. They hugged and she cried. She cried for the day she had lost him and she cried for the day she had found him. She cried for every day in between. Studies show that emotional pain is felt in the same part of the brain as physical pain. Studies also show that the stress recorded is equally intense. James wasn’t thinking about studies as he held Mary and felt her sorrow. He wasn’t thinking any thoughts, but in that moment, with her warm body against his, he forgave her. It would be much later before she would forgive herself. When they got back from the airport, Brian put Mary at ease. With a warm hug and a tour of the house James’ father welcomed her. He showed her the guest room, which he said would be there for her as long as she wanted, and whenever she wanted to stay with them. The next day Brian took them both to lunch at the CN tower’s 360 restaurant. They were 115 stories up, rotating around a view of Lake Ontario and all of Toronto that was spectacular. Brian laughed to himself at how little of that view James and his mother saw. After an appreciative glance out of the windowed walls, James and Mary hardly took their eyes off other. They both reached across to touch the others hand or arm as they spoke, as if to make sure they were really there. Brian hardly got a word in between the rapid-fire questions and answers that passed between them. He told Mary that he wished he hadn’t had to travel so much so he could have been with James more but his son seemed happier than he had ever seen him. He liked a lot about Mary and she accepted Brian’s compliments graciously. They spent the weekend watching the fall woods turn crimson. The three of them walked the underground mall and visited all the tourist attractions from the old castle at Casa Loma to the zoo. Brian felt at ease and when Mary wasn’t holding James’ hand, she held Brian’s. When she felt the chill in the air, it was James who put his arm around her. When they took her to the airport, Brian was waiting in the car while James took his mother to the gate. Neither wanted to leave the other. Neither expected the kiss to last as long as it did. Neither expected to feel what they felt, but they did. She was flushed as she made him promise to write and call. He had every intention of staying close to her. When James called her the next day she was already planning for him to come visit her during his Christmas vacation from college. “James, I only have a couch for you to sleep on and if you don’t mind home cooking, I want you to come.” When he talked it over with his father, Brian was very generous. He gave his son the tickets and enough spending money to take his mother to the places he knew she couldn’t afford. But restaurants and sightseeing was not foremost on James’ mind. His temples throbbed at the memory of their kiss. There wasn’t a day that either of them didn’t think that Christmas seemed a decade away. That’s all they talked about on the phone. How good it was going to be…how good. When the cool of Toronto turned cold James finally found himself in a cab from the airport approaching his mother’s apartment in Charleston. She opened the door. He looked at his mother and he looked at the woman that stood before him. She wore a soft knit dress that accentuated the softness of her curves. This was different from their first meeting. Her smile was small and she breathed as if inhaling his fragrance. They didn’t kiss. They just held each other, for a long time. It was a bit awkward; she was almost formal for a while but after an hour or so they eased into the intimate conversations they were more accustomed to. He asked her, “Have you been going out…dating at all?” “You know, it’s funny James but since I came back from Toronto, I didn’t have much of an urge. She hesitated, “…there was one person that I saw a few times but aside from that, I was just as happy staying home than being out, forcing myself to be sociable…” She laughed. “You’re too young to know what a drag it can be…” “No Mary…I know what you mean. I’ve been out on enough ‘going nowhere’ dates where the only thing you have in common is belonging to the same species…and sometimes you’re not even sure about that.” She laughed easily and put her hands on his face and said, “You are just so cute.” As an afterthought she said, “Hey, how about coming to work with me tonight?” Mary was a guide for a company that ran ghost tours around Charleston. She took groups to the local cemeteries and regaled them with anecdotes about local real and imagined experiences with hauntings, visitations, and the like. James enjoyed watching her in her black costume as she joked with the group and told stories with great animation. He liked the grace of her hands as she waved and gesticulated to emphasize her points. When it was over, She said, “You must be good luck for me honey, I haven’t made this much in tips since I started.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek and said, “You did a great job; I loved it.” She put her arm in his and leaned into him against the chill that was in the air. He felt proud walking the decorated streets with the woman he called to himself, ‘Pretty Mary.’ After her midnight group, they went home so exhausted they were giddy. They’d walked from the courthouse to the outdoor market and were laughing about one of the women on the tour who kept asking, “Are you sure this really happened dear?” With their coats still on they found themselves in each other’s arms. They found themselves kissing: long, deep, and uninterrupted. When the kiss broke Mary said, “I’m all grimy; I’m going to take a shower.” She realized where they were headed and she needed the respite to think. James went into the small half bath to wash up and shave. He was on the couch waiting for her when she returned. He had no idea which of all the possibilities he had considered would play out. She did. She had decided. She wore a loose V-neck tee shirt over her panties. It was obvious that she had no bra on. She came up to the couch and bent over and kissed each cheek...each eye…each lip. He looked into the open neck of her shirt and saw her bare breasts touch as they met. His freshly shaven face was smooth and the feel of it on her, momentarily mesmerized her. She remained with her face on his and before she finished the sentence that started with “Mmmm…” She felt his hand on the ends of both of her hanging breasts. Her heart thumped from her neck to her waist as he reached under the loose shirt and rubbed across her nipples. She held his shoulders for balance and froze with her mouth by his ear as her son massaged every inch of her breasts. “Oh honey…oh honey…oh honey…” She whispered it thickly a dozen times. Their mouths locked and their tongues explored. She sat by him and they formed a sculptural lover’s embrace. Soft moans accompanied the gentle touching. There was no thrashing and clawing of first time lovers. Hands sought to caress long lost but familiar flesh. He coddled her full breast as her nipple responded between his fingers. She lifted his shirt and indulged in the powdery feel of the skin across his chest and back, all the while kissing, and kissing. Then she started breathing hard. She tore her lips from his and he could feel her trembling. “James…” He looked at the pained expression on her face. “We can’t…I’m sorry…honey, there’s something I want to talk to you about…oh God, I never should have started this…it’s too selfish…I ruined my life when I let you go and I’m not going to ruin yours by doing this now...and also…” His hand still rested on her bare breast and he was hard and uncomprehending. “What are you talking about…you’re not going to ruin my life…I…I love you.” “James…I know you do…I can feel it and I love you too but this will come back to haunt us…we can’t just…” James took his hand out from under her shirt and cradled her face. “Haunt us? Mary there’s nothing to haunt us…no ghosts…I think you’re taking your job too seriously…” “James, don’t make fun…you know what I mean…you’re so young and you’re not ready for something…like this…” “Something like what? Something like being with a person I love…Mary, as soon as I saw you I knew I wanted you this way…and I could feel that you also…” “Oh honey I’m not saying I don’t want you but you don’t really know me and…look at who we are.” His voice became thicker and more strident. “What if we just happened to meet and I hadn’t searched you out…what difference would it have made…we would have just been two strangers who liked each other…we would never have known…” “But sweetheart we do know…and we can’t take that away.” She sensed he was ready to bolt and she put her arms around him to ease his agitation and said, “Okay baby…let’s just take some time…we’ll talk, and meanwhile we’re together…” She saw his lips coming towards hers and she didn’t have the will to rebuff him. She allowed the loving kiss and no amount of will could stop the thrill that his taste ignited so deep in her belly. The following days were sunny and easy. They held hands as they walked through Cypress Gardens and some of the old plantations and historic homes. It was the nights that were difficult. Alone together in the small apartment, Mary was never far from her son’s desirous gaze. When he attempted to do more than just kiss or hold her, she was considerate in how she stopped him…but she stopped him. She stopped him until his hand on her breast was too sweet and gentle to push away. She stopped him until his hand between her legs made her too wet to stop. They took their time undressing each other, making the inevitable that much more excruciatingly sweet until neither could wait any longer. He wanted to be inside her, where she ached for him to be. All the contradictions of the moment ran through both of them. There was the excitement of sex. There was the desire to have that which was once lost. There was a desire to show the intensity of the love they felt for each other. And she was his mother, and he was her son. She was his mother and she was astride him in preparation of his entry. He was her son and his stiffness was about to penetrate the flower between his mother’s legs. She took his hardened flesh in hand and closed her eyes tilting her head back. She mounted her son and guided him into her liquid filled pussy. She had an almost pained expression on her face as the one cock forbidden to her completed the void she had always felt. She put her arms around his neck and said into ear, “I want you so close to me…like this…so I don’t know where I end and you begin…I want to feel you inside me…like this…so that you know…oh God you’re so hard in me baby…so deep inside me.” As she moved on him, raising and lowering herself on her son’s stiff mast, a fear crept across her and she said, “You do know…don’t you my love…you want this too…don’t you love…don’t you?” “Yes Mary…I want it…I want you…I can’t believe this is really happening…it feels so good to be inside you…part of you.” “Yes baby…it feels better than anything.” She turned him onto her so she could be under him and so that she could open her legs for him…open herself wide for her son to take her. She wanted him to possess her…own her…so that maybe, then, he could be hers. Smooth long strokes filled and emptied the pink walls of her pussy. Deep hard entries stimulated her clit enough for it to ache for release. It felt as if he could go on forever and she wanted that as much as she wanted to come that very instant. They moved on each other and shifted until she was on the edge of the bed. One of her legs rested on his shoulder and it pushed back to her breast with each thrust. The other he used to spread her legs by grasping her calf with his hand. His eyes were riveted to the place where his cock was stretching her pussy open. Her eyes were closed tight. All thoughts were banished. All the things she wanted to tell him were gone. Her mouth was open in a soundless ‘O’ that mimicked the large circle that her pussy made around his width. That was what he had seen in the countless fantasies of the past months…just that sight…every inch of him was exhilarated to be taking his mother…having his mother. Mary felt each stroke that distended her opening until it was taut and widened with her son’s hardness. Her sounds let him know what he was doing to her and he was proud that he could make her feel that way. His varied stroking left her in anticipation. Short hard entries became long deliberate penetrations that seemed to take forever to run his length into her pussy. She responded with almost involuntary twists of her hips that took him into her depths. When he whispered to her that he loved her, she could no longer contain her impending eruption. James felt his mother trembling beneath him and quickened his strokes to bring her to orgasm. Only in the throes of this physical and emotional maelstrom could she ask him for it…the word she had wanted to hear from him for months…the word she had never heard. “Say it James…say it…tell me who I am…tell me who you love.” He wanted to say it as much as she wanted to hear it. “Mother…mother…mother…I love you mother…my sweet mother…” With each insertion he said it and with each penetration they both quickly rose to release. “Yes…yes…yes…God yes…” Mary cried as she came. Her orgasm came in waves as her son released stream after stream into her. Each thrust seemed to take him deeper into her belly until he finally stopped…up against her…joined. They held each other tight enough to expel breath and only eased their holds enough to join in a long devouring kiss. The bittersweet quaking inside her subsided and then she turned her face into the pillow and cried. James was uncomprehending, had he hurt her…was she sorry…was she happy? He stroked her back until she stopped. She sat up and hugged the pillow to her breast as she spoke. Her tear stained face was wracked as if each word had to be forced from her mouth. “James…I want to be the one who tells you…the person I’ve been seeing…is your father.” It was as if he had been clubbed senseless. “What…” “James…it was nothing at first but on his trips to Atlanta he stopped here also. He said we shouldn’t say anything to you because you might get your hopes up and we should first see where it might go. He wants to get serious and I…I don’t know…I like him…he’s a good man and he wants to take care of me…and…” “I can’t believe this…what are you saying…you’re going to marry him?” “No James, he didn’t say anything about marriage but he did say he wanted to talk to you…and after what just happened…I wanted you to hear it from me.” ‘This is really fucked up…I don’t even know what you’re saying.” “What I’m telling you is that it’s complicated. What just happened was wonderful and I’m not sorry but…you have to understand…it’s been hard for me…I’ve gone from one miserable job to another, every time I save a few hundred dollars either my car breaks down or they raise my insurance, my rent, or both. I don’t want to live this way anymore. What I’m telling you is that if it gets more serious with your father…I decided that I’m going to let it. It’s not like I don’t care for him…I’m not just doing it for…” James took her hand and said excitedly, “Listen, we can do it together. I could quit school and get a job and we could make enough together to…” “James,” she stopped him. “I’m not a kid, I’m almost twice your age and that’s not going to go away…this isn’t a Hollywood movie…things don’t always end up the way you want them to…and this kind of a relationship…we shouldn’t be doing this…” He easily found the words that would hurt her most. “So you’re going to leave me again…just like you did before.” It had the impact of a physical blow. All she said through her tears was “NO…NO…no…” Her saliva bubbled at her mouth as she reached for him imploringly. “No…baby…no…no…” He let her hold him and he was sorry and he was angry. They formed an uneasy truce and before he left for Toronto, Mary convinced him that she loved him would never be out of his life again. They did not have sex again before he left. James was prepared when his father told him about seeing Mary and made a good show of being happy for him. He even smiled every time his Father told him he would be passing by Charleston on this trip or that. He even smiled after three months passed and his father told him he was going to ask Mary to marry him. Brian had said, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful for all of us to live together?” Then he stopped smiling. James had rehearsed his answer, “You know dad, I’ve been thinking about it and maybe you two should have some privacy. If you could help me, I’d really like to get an apartment near school…I think it’s time for me to move out.” The thought of being in the same house with Mary and his father as man and wife was impossible for him. After Brian’s prolonged attempt to convince his son to remain, he relented and they found James a place of his own. When Mary came to Toronto to stay, it was a month before the wedding. James spoke to her often and the unspoken was never far beneath the surface when they were together. When James invited Mary to his apartment, he heard the hesitation in her voice. He said, “Don’t you want to see where I’m living? Come on Mary, I just think we should talk and clear the air so we can move on…and not have all this stuff hanging over our heads…” When she arrived at his apartment and he opened the door, she could see it in his eyes. She wasn’t a fool and was prepared to forestall any physical intimacy he might initiate. What she wasn’t prepared for was the way he held her…unspeaking, yet saying it all…unmoving, but reminding her of every movement he had made inside her…so near to the flame she feared would engulf them both. Neither had said a word when his lips closed off her resigned whimper. He was more forceful with her than he had been in Charleston. He removed her jacket and dress and guided her to her knees. He released the hardening flesh from his pants and she looked at the heavy knob he thrust in her face and opened her mouth. She took the spongy mass in and he worked part of the shaft into her mouth as well. He held her head and stroked into her mouth and then, realizing how rough he was being, he reigned in his hostility and was gentler. James was surprised at her ability to suck him. He had been with lots of women for a youth his age but he didn’t expect his mother to be so practiced. He put it from his mind as she took more and more of him into her mouth. He spread his legs slightly to perfect the angle at which he entered his mother’s mouth. He contacted her throat but she continued sucking. Her hands lovingly caressed him. Mary would have gladly stayed there and sucked her son until he came in her mouth but he lifted her to his arms and said, “Come with me mother.” She melted whenever he called her that and followed him to the bedroom. He told her, “Mary, I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you…” As he reached behind her to unclasp her bra she gained some composure. Mary was breathing hard when she told him, “James you have to hear me.” He was fondling her breasts and watching as the nipples hardened. She held his arms and said, “James, look at me.” He looked up. “I’m going to marry your father…and if we do this…it’s the last time.” Her voice softened, “…the last time…honey…do you hear me…do you understand.” He looked at her in wounded resignation, “Okay…I understand.” She shook her head from side to side and said “Oh God…” as she put her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He took her panties off and kissed her belly down to the top of her pubic area as she inhaled in anticipation. He kissed the skin that covered her hood sending sparks to the nerve endings in her clit. He took off the rest of his clothes. She was on the bed with her legs apart when he finished undressing and returned his mouth to her pussy. He manipulated her clit with his tongue until he felt her rise and said, “Do you want me to stop…should I leave you alone?” She softened his hostility by saying, “Please James…don’t be mean…just love me…do it for me…this is the last time I’m ever going to feel your love like this.” He came back to her and his mouth was on hers as she guided his turgid staff between the lips of her wet opening. He was inside and it felt so good, it felt so good that he became agitated again. He knew he was taking something from the pleasure he should be feeling at that moment but how, he wondered, could she take this from him. How, he anguished, could this be the last time? He pulled out and kneeled before her. She was unsure of what he wanted as he raised her legs slightly. He touched the surface of her tender rosette with his finger without entering. She closed her eyes as his fingertip traced and stroked the small opening. She heard him say, “Mother, I want all of you.” Before she could react, he pressed her legs back with his forearm. He took his cock that was hot from the friction of her pussy into his hand and directed it to her small pinkish pucker. The wet head opened it and she gasped followed by a moan that seemed to go on forever. His cock was so swollen it looked to him as if it would be impossible to get it all inside her. That didn’t stop him from trying. He shifted her to the edge of the bed and then with his feet on the floor he drove with his hips until half of his cock disappeared between the rounded globes. Another long moan from her was followed by the attempt to get it all in. He stroked back and forth and the constriction of her anal ring massaged the shaft. He drove the remaining inches into the hot passageway and she said, “Oh God…I’m on fire…oh…oh…” He was surprised that with each exclamation, she was pushing to meet his strokes. She grabbed his arms for balance and with each thrust he had complete penetration. She was taking it all in and he was climbing to the sky. He took both of his mother’s breasts in his hands as he drove into her again and again. The tight passageway tried to hold him firm as he fought to keep moving inside her. The friction heated both of their sexes. Each time he completed a stroke, he stayed buried inside her, moving in her as though there were something in her he was searching for. Each time he did it she let out a moan that ended with a little cry. And when he said, ‘mother’ and stroked her, she said ‘yes’ louder and louder. It was the first experience of anal sex for both mother and son and novelty combined with their incestuous relations intensified their response. This was something other for both of them. As he pounded toward climax she reached for him, clawed at him, to draw him closer, to make him one with her. She reached for their point of union; she wanted to feel the slippery skin of his cock as it stroked in and out of her. She made contact with her clit and immediately began coming. She let out a sound that was siren-like as she entreated her son. “Come baby…come with your mama…come in your mama’s ass…give me your cum…ohhhh…” The first wet release brought a smile to his mother’s lips as she continued thrashing, “Yes baby…yes…yes…my baby…come in me …come in me my baby…” James’ cry was almost one of pain as he let his seed go into his mother’s ass. “Awwww…God…mom…mom…mom…oh mom…oh mom…” The young man’s voluminous release filled his mother with thick streams. He kept calling to her as she held him round, wrapping her legs around him. “Yes baby…yes baby…yes…” When he was done he asked her, “I didn’t hurt you, did I mom?” “No James…no…it felt good…so good.” He rolled off her and turned his back to her, on his side, very still. She felt his feelings, she felt her own. The only consolation she could offer was a hand on his back. She knew that at that moment, words would be pointless. Mary married Brian when July finally warmed Toronto. Brian convinced James to take a summer job as an intern for him. James knew if he took the job he would see more of Mary and that would mean more distress. It didn’t matter; he would see more of Mary. James enjoyed the office and the work. His father was pleased and told him he had an aptitude for it. He got along well with the staff especially with Claire and Eddie who always had time to show James the ropes and listen to him. They were both in their thirties and he thought they made a nice couple. James had some meetings at his father’s house and Mary made lunch and drinks but that was not what he hungered and thirsted for. Mary never let on. No furtive glances, no kisses beyond his cheek, no touches above his hand. If his conversation turned toward anything but business or small talk, she deftly deflected it. Only once that summer did she hang up on him, when he asked her if she remembered what it was like, when he was inside her. She hung up not out of anger but because she remembered too well. Only once that summer did she push him away, when his hardness behind her and his lips on her neck were too much to bear. A year passed. Three words that take us in an instant from one time to another. That’s not how it happens for people. For James, he lived each day with a drumming behind everything he did. Like the beat of a song that’s so loud and strong, after a while, you don’t hear it anymore. That was the ostinato of his life…Mary…Mary…Mary. Move on. That’s what they tell you to do. He moved on, in the same place. Every woman he slept with became Mary. Anything worth talking about, he wanted to share with Mary. When his father was away, he hardly left her side. He put up a good front but she could see the torment in his face. It pained her to be the cause of his distress. She wanted to give him what he wanted but all of her said that it would be wrong. James got closer to Claire at work and when he found out that she and Eddie weren’t a couple they spent a few evening together talking, and laughing. He told her lots but never the details of who was involved. It was a long difficult year that brought them to the night of the party. Brian had asked James to take Mary to an Anniversary dinner of a couple from work. It didn’t help that everyone was happy, or looked happy. It didn’t help when someone said to Mary that James looked more like her boyfriend than her son. He drank through the speeches and drank through the toasts. He spent some time with Claire and Mary danced with him and drank with him. When Mary went upstairs to the bathroom, he followed her. Before he could lock the door, he was in behind her. Her breasts were in his hands and he began grinding himself hard against her rear. She pushed him backwards and turned with an anguished expression and shook her head wordlessly. “I’m sorry,” he said, as he leaned back against the wall. “I just don’t know what to do.” Mary was near tears, “Oh, and do you think I know what to do? Do you think this makes it easy for me? What do you want James…what do you want me to do? You tell me…because I can’t go on like this…do you want me to leave your father…cheat on him…he’s been so good to me…so good to us…should I treat the first person who’s cared about me like dirt?” Realizing where they were she pushed at him, “Come on, get out of this room before…” They stepped into the hall and James said, “ You know, I care about you too.” “Oh honey, I know you do…you know I love you but we can’t be together that way anymore…we’re not going to…” She held his cheek in her palm and said, “I’m always going to love you but I can’t end up hating myself to do it…please James…” He took a deep breath and said and forced a smile at her, “Okay Mary…all right” When they got downstairs Claire asked James if he could take her home. He did after dropping Mary off. They spoke for a long while. James slept at Claire’s that night but not with her. That night, like many nights, he dreamed of Mary. The images were sharp and clear: his mother’s lips caressing his hardness and his softness…he could feel her tongue on him as sure as the day he had been in her mouth. And he did her…the way he did her when she uttered that ecstatic moan that played behind all his fantasies…moaning as he licked the fleshy jewel between his mother’s legs…coaxing it to swell from under the slippery hood. And then he was entering her…penetrating and pervading his mother in every place forbidden, until she cried for him to stop and cried for him not to. And each fantasy brought the fulfillment he had when he had taken her…coming…thick, and full, and rich, into each of her openings. He thought he would dream forever. Time heals all wounds. No. It does not. Time heals nothing. What heals is that things happen during the time that passes. Sometimes it just seems to occur when the body-mind sets about its task of taking care of itself. Have you ever been worried or afraid or whatever, and then ten minutes later for no apparent reason you start to feel better? That’s what happens when time passes. And sometimes you talk to yourself and a blessed sentence that you hadn’t thought of makes sense, and you’re changed. That’s what happens when time passes. And if you’re fortunate, you have a friend or a professional, or a lover that listens and understands and you’re not so alone anymore and that’s what happens when time passes. That’s what happened to James. Time passed and things happened in time. Move on. That’s what Claire told him. It made sense, because of Claire. Claire, who listened for months, listened without passing judgment even when he finally had the courage to tell her his whole truth. Claire happened. ‘Perhaps’ he thought, ‘things happen the way you need them to.’ And what he needed was Claire: Claire, who was older…Claire who would love him. Claire, who would understand the creamy memories of his mother that he held. Claire, whom he would come to love and make love to, and as he did he would think of…her…and wait.