Oh wow. Yet another excellent installment.
I loved seeing Lois bond with the fat black cat. I especially liked the monologue while she was feeding her.
I also enjoyed hearing about Clark's childhood from Jonathan.
And of course, such humorous, completely
Lois Lane thoughts like these:
It was pretty darn thoughtless of the Kents, actually, not to leave a more conveniently-sized ladder in a place where it would be available to nosy guests.
It would have been considerate of Clark to leave behind a journal in which he’d poured out his pubescent angst,
always make me smile, because I find them so endearing.
But then you bring us to the end with:
“And I’m not saying anything else. Because I’m not ready to say anything, and I don’t think you’re ready to hear the thing that I’m not saying, and if I did say it, which I positively am not going to do, I’d probably mess it up, because let’s face it, we haven’t exactly been communicating all that well lately, and I’ve already told you I’m confused…and…and…
and
She felt as though she were perched at the top of a cliff, feeling the edge with her toes, her head swimming with vertigo as she contemplated a thrilling, terrifying leap. “Clark?” she whispered.
“Yeah?” His voice was husky, and she knew that he’d felt something, too.
“That thing that I’m not saying…I think I might be ready to say it soon.”
He took a shuddering breath and pulled her close. “If I were you, Lois…”
“Yeah?”
“If I were you, I’d wait,” he said softly. “I don’t think I’m quite ready to believe it yet.”
And she deserved that, she knew, but it didn’t keep it from hurting worse than anything he’d ever said to her.
“Do you think you ever will be?” she asked, drawing back to look into his eyes once again.
“I want to. God help me…but I want to.”
And ohhhh. Painful and beautiful and real. I just absolutely love this story. You're doing such a wonderful job of weaving this tale, Caroline. Thank you.
