By the time Wanda’s fifth adventure was published, it was an extended family ritual to spend the Thanksgiving weekend with Clark and Lois. Both the Kents and the Lanes, Lucy included, made times in their schedules to visit, eat, watch football, talk, laugh, and catch up on each other’s lives. Despite the difference in temperament and their diverse interests, Jonathan Kent and Sam Lane had become good friends. Each man learned from the trials and tribulations of the other, Martha and Ellen grew close as fellow Grannies, and over the years the quick animosity between Sam and Ellen that for so long had seethed just below the surface faded away. Lois sometimes wondered if her own injuries had contributed to that reconciliation, and if so, how much.
If they had, she always came down on the side of ‘good coming from bad.’ The prayer that the surgical nurse had shared with Clark the day she’d been shot bubbled up in her memory at such times, and she would offer up her own silent – and sometimes not so silent – prayer of thanks for the good.
The only thing that produced friction in the family on a regular basis was Lois’ penchant for getting in trouble when she was investigating something. She was doing background research for her latest Wanda Detroit novel by riding with a patrol officer and got caught in a crossfire after a simple traffic stop. She wasn’t hit by any bullets, but one round smashed into the pavement in front of her and kicked dirt and metal fragments into her leg. That necessitated a four-day hospital stay and some physical therapy to regain strength and flexibility once she’d healed.
Once she was interviewing an athlete’s ex-wife for one of her non-fiction books and the ex-husband, jacked up on meth, took Lois, the ex-wife, and two small children hostage for several hours until Superman got tired of waiting and swooped in to save her. Following that incident was another lengthy argument between Clark and Lois on the dangers of being too involved with her research.
When she was doing background research for her Lex Luthor book, she was kidnapped by yet another child of Luthor’s, this one a daughter who insisted she was Lois’ child by Lex. Lois got out of that one by herself and made certain the girl got quality psychiatric care. But Jon and Marta both alternately tearfully hugged and yelled at her for exposing herself to such danger as Clark stood back, frowning silently and watching with his arms crossed.
And every time one of those incidents took place, Clark insisted more vehemently that Lois slow down and back off. All it made her do was dig in her heels even deeper.
As it had to, the breaking point finally came.
*****
When Lois walked through the front door of the house after yet another three-day hospital stay following yet another brush with violent criminals, she expected a raucous welcome from her children. Instead, she got silence. Neither of them got up from the kitchen table where they were doing their homework. She turned to Clark and lifted her eyebrows to silently ask what was going on, but he refused to make eye contact.
Always take the initiative, she told herself. “Marta, honey, we need to start planning your birthday party. It’s not every year my little girl turns nine.”
Marta tolerated her mother’s hug and started on the next arithmetic problem. “We’ve got almost three months, Mother. I think we can get the job done in time as long as you don’t get yourself killed first.”
Clark’s sharp but quiet “Marta!” ended the conversation.
The girl’s cold tone stunned Lois. She looked at Jon, but he didn’t lift his eyes from his reading, nor did he comment. He couldn’t have shut her out more convincingly had he given her a ‘talk to the hand’ gesture. Lois felt her insides constrict.
She stood and followed Clark up the stairs to their bedroom. He dropped her suitcase on the bed, flipped it open, pulled out her clothes and piled them on the comforter. They didn’t look at each other as Clark picked up the suitcase and moved to put it away.
She put her hand on the small stack of clothing and quietly said, “Welcome home, Lois. I’m glad you’re okay. I’m glad you got the story, too. You did a great job. Perry would have been proud.”
A sharp crack interrupted her sarcastic monologue. She spun and saw her husband standing in front of the closet, holding the top of her hard-shelled suitcase in one hand and the bottom in the other.
He’d snapped it in two.
He didn’t look at her as he spoke. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Don’t start that, Lois. I won’t listen to you try to justify what you did. You violated our agreement and you know it.”
“I found out who was kidnapping homeless people and why. The police arrested them. They won’t be killing people while running illegal experiments to go around the FDA approval process any longer.”
He dropped the pieces of suitcase and turned to face her. “Wonderful. Great. You broke the story. You get a prize. You might even get a Kerth out of it.” He took two deliberate strides closer. “But you also broke your word to me. You told me you would stop doing fieldwork. You promised the kids that you’d never do the dirty work on any investigation again.” He leaned down into her face. “And the worst thing of all was that you involved Marta! I never would have found you in time if she hadn’t led me to you! And she saw you tied to that chair, all beat up and bloody and groaning! I thought you were dying and our daughter saw you like that!”
“That’s the risk every investigator takes—”
“You’re not supposed to take that risk! You’re not even supposed to be an investigator anymore! You’re supposed to be a wife and a mother and then a writer! You’re not supposed to be found dead in some basement because you stuck your neck out too far and someone chopped your head off!”
“I’m fine now—”
“You know they were going to kill you, don’t you? There was a syringe on the dresser ready to inject potassium chloride into your arm! I could take you dying if I had to, Lois, but it’s not just us! We’re a family! We have children! You can’t take those kinds of risks anymore!”
“This was an important story—”
“NO!” he bellowed. “The STORY is NOT—” He stopped and forced himself back under control. Lois was shocked to see the effort on his face and in his shoulders.
He straightened and moved back a half-step. “The story is not as important as you being a wife and mother. If I weren’t Superman you’d be dead right now and I’d have to raise Jon and Marta by myself. If you and Marta didn’t have that empathic link, or whatever it is, I couldn’t have found you in time. And we would have spent months, if not years, wondering where you were or if you were even alive, and all that time you’d have been buried in the basement of some abandoned house in southeast Pennsylvania.”
Lois had always known the danger she’d been in, but for the first time she began to understand – and most importantly, to admit – the impact of what she’d done, the terror she’d instilled in the hearts of the people she loved the most. She backed up and sat down on the bed, then put her head in her hands and began to cry.
Clark put his hands in his pockets and stood where he was. “I love you, Lois,” he said, more gently than before. “But you’re over forty now and fifty will be here before you know it. You don’t move as well as you used to. You don’t hit as hard as you used to. You don’t recover as quickly as you did when you were twenty-seven. And you saw the steam coming out of Burton’s ears. You put a lot of stress on your body, and he was afraid your liver was going to fail.”
He finally sat beside her but didn’t touch her. “Do you remember your interview last year with Richard Carpenter? He told you that he understood that Karen’s anorexia was what ultimately killed her. He said he accepted that anorexia nervosa is a disease and not a lifestyle choice and that she didn’t deliberately die so she could leave him. But he also told you that he was still angry at his sister for starving herself to death and robbing him of her talent, her ability, her love, and her presence. That’s kind of what I’ve been feeling over the past three days. I know you wouldn’t deliberately choose to die and leave us. But if you don’t slow down, if you don’t back away from these situations, that’s essentially what you’re going to do. You’re going to leave us.”
He reached out and enveloped his weeping bride in his arms. “And I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay around for a long, long time. I want you to see our son become a successful doctor with a family of his own. I want you to see our daughter become a teacher, maybe a college professor or maybe even president of a big school, or do something else and be wonderfully successful, and get married and have her own family. I want you to bounce our grandchildren on your knees and laugh when they pee on your leg.”
She laughed and sobbed at the same time, then nodded. “I – I want that too!”
He hugged her tighter. “Then you have to make a choice and leave the dangerous stuff to the younger reporters. Please, Lois.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Please?”
Her eyes caught his and held them. “Yes. I promise. No more being stupid. No more field work, no more hands-on investigations for me. Not ever.” She shifted her arms around him. “I don’t want to miss any more moments with you.”
And this time she kept her word.
*****
No family is without conflict or misunderstandings or miscommunications, but aside from Lois’ trouble magnetism, the Kent-Lane clan seemed to manage with far fewer hiccups than any other family they knew. Lois and Clark learned to move in high society, not just in Metropolis but all over the nation. Lois appeared on half a dozen late-night talk shows to push her books. Clark put out a best-selling book of his own containing a selected number of the editorials he’d written since he’d replaced Perry. Lucy Lane, who had become a multiple Tony-nominated Broadway actress, publicly credited her sister’s family with keeping her grounded and aware of reality outside the artificial world of the theater.
Life had come to treat Clark’s family very well. And every once in a while, he would recall the prayer the nurse had shared with him that night at the hospital when Lois had almost died.
*****
Clark and Lois sat down with the principal of Jon’s high school, wondering why Mrs. Jameson had called them in to talk. Surely Jon wasn’t creating a problem in class!
Instead of sitting behind her desk, Mrs. Jameson seated all three of them around a small table to one side of her office. “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here, Mr. and Mrs. Kent. Let me assure you that there are no problems concerning Jon or his schoolwork. In fact, he may be the best student we’ve ever had at Harding Memorial High School. I wish we had several dozen more just like him.”
Clark nodded. “That’s good to hear.”
“But – and you had to know there was one somewhere – Jon is so smart and so accomplished that we’re running out of things to teach him. We project that by the middle of his junior year of high school, he will have passed every science course which we are accredited to teach, and if he keeps up with his extra studies he’ll have enough credits to graduate a year early. We have to come up with a game plan to keep him scholastically engaged and on track for college.”
She paused as Lois put her hand to her mouth and burped. “I apologize. It must have been something I ate that’s disagreeing with me.”
Mrs. Jameson smiled. “I understand. I wouldn’t want you to talk to my doctor about my digestion. The stress in this job combined with my poor eating habits makes her a little bit crazy about my health.”
“We’re sorry that Jon is contributing to that stress.”
“Oh, please, Mr. Kent! We don’t get many positive problems like his. I wish every student presented us the same kinds of choices to make for his future. You two have done a bang-up job raising him so far.”
“He just turned twelve a few months ago. My friends keep telling me that the hardest part is coming up.”
“Oh, they’re right, it is. But I think you won’t have a lot of the same problems with Jon that other parents of teen boys have had. Your son has taken the best character traits of both of you and worked hard to become a fine young man, and he’s quite fortunate that he’s had such good role models.”
“So, at the risk of being rude, why are we here?”
“Because, Mrs. Kent, we need to help Jon succeed. And I believe the best way to do that is to get him into the pre-med program at New Troy State. It’s fairly close, the tuition is as reasonable as tuition can be these days, and they’re willing to let him enroll part-time using a program for new doctors. I think it’s our optimum solution, but of course I can’t make the decision for him. Or for the two of you.”
Clark goggled at her. “You mean you want him to start his pre-med program now?”
“Now? Oh, no, I’m sorry! I was not speaking clearly. The program wouldn’t take Jon until the beginning of his junior year, and because of legal requirements he couldn’t take some of the advanced labs until he reaches his sixteenth birthday, but if he does as well as I think he will, he’ll graduate from high school as a college sophomore. Maybe even a junior, if he pushes hard enough.”
“Is that what you want him to do?” snapped Lois. “Is he going to be a trophy on your wall, something you can point at and gloat about to the other principals?”
Mrs. Jameson’s face fell. “Not at all, Mrs. Kent. No, please, that’s not what I meant at all. I assure you, I’m doing this so Jon will succeed in his career and in his life. After all, he’s doing this for you.”
Lois’ own face lost all expression. “Wh-what?”
“I’m sorry. I thought you already knew.”
“Knew what, Mrs. Jameson?” Clark asked softly.
The older woman sighed in resignation. “That his ambition to be a doctor is partly – perhaps even largely – fueled by his desire to help his mother. He told me last spring that you have a liver that isn’t working as well as it should, and that his goal is to find a cure for you.”
Clark and Lois turned and stared open-mouthed at each other. “Lois, believe me when I say that I had no idea.”
Lois shook her head. “It’s okay, honey, neither did I.” She turned to her son’s principal. “Mrs. Jameson, could you do us a huge favor? Whatever else comes out of this meeting concerning Jon’s future, please don’t let him know what you just told us.”
“Of course not. I apologize for breaching his privacy. If I’d had any idea—”
“You wouldn’t have told us, I know,” Clark said. “But that’s behind us now. And I think it’s a good thing that we know. It will help us when we suggest this course of study to him.”
“Thank you for your understanding. I think I’ve—”
Lois burped again, louder this time, and took several quick breaths to steady herself. Mrs. Jameson leaned forward. “Mrs. Kent, are you unwell? If you need to use the ladies’ room, it’s through the hallway door and two doors down on your left.”
Lois swallowed and sat up straight. “I don’t know. I haven’t felt like this for years.”
“I think we’ve covered everything, unless either of you have any questions for me. No?” Mrs. Jameson stood and shook hands with both of them. “You two have important things to do, and I have a school to run. Thank you both for coming in on such short notice. And thank you for being so understanding.”
Clark stood and helped Lois to her feet. “Come on, honey, let’s go home. I think you need some antacids and some rest.”
“Y-yes. I think you’re right. Mrs. Jameson, thank you for all the nice things you said about Jon. We’re very proud of him.”
“As well you should be. I anticipate meeting his sister before much longer, too.”
Lois turned to leave, then grabbed her stomach with one hand and Clark’s arm with the other. “Oh, wow. That’s just weird.”
Mrs. Jameson moved to her other side. “At the risk of being indelicate again, Mrs. Kent, is there any possibility that you’re pregnant?”
Lois shook her head. “Uh-uh. I had my tubes tied after Marta was born.”
“Well, I had mine tied after my third child. It didn’t stop me from having twins six years later.” As she saw the alarmed faces of her visitors, she added, “Sometimes they heal by themselves.”
Lois turned to her husband. “Do you think—”
“It’s your stomach,” he replied.
Said stomach suddenly lurched again and Lois covered her mouth with her free hand. “Bathroom! Now!”
*****
“Okay, Dad, what’s for dinner?” Jonathan looked around the table and saw his sister and mother already in their seats. “Maybe I should ask ‘where’s dinner?’”
His father pulled Jon’s chair out and said, “We need to have a family council first, son.”
Jon didn’t move. “Is there a problem?”
His mother smiled. “No, son, there’s no problem. We just need to talk with both of you.”
Jon nodded. “Okay.” He put his book satchel down against the wall and cautiously sat.
Mom took a deep breath and let it out. Then she looked at Dad. Jon got the impression that she was slightly embarrassed, but he couldn’t think of any reason that would be.
His sister put her hands out palms up and said, “If we’re going to talk, let’s talk!”
His parents laughed. “Okay, kids,” said Dad, “here it is. Your mother is going to have another baby.”
“What!” Jon burst out.
“Mom!” Marta wailed.
“Hey! Your father had something to do with it!”
“Another baby? Do you know what the kids on my class are going to say? I can’t go back to school now!”
Dad put his hand on Marta’s shoulder. “Honey, it isn’t that bad. A lot of your classmates have younger siblings. You—”
“Yes it is that bad! You don’t know how much they’re going to tease me now! ‘The baby has a baby sister!’ ‘Hey, shrimp, don’t your parents know what causes that?’ I might as well move to Smallville with Grandpa and Grandma Kent!”
Jon’s mother tried to look stern, but Marta’s outburst was making her want to laugh, and his dad’s stunned expression wasn’t helping. And Jon understood. He wanted to crawl under his bed and hide, or tell his classmates that his parents had found the new child under a cabbage leaf.
He felt his face heating up, but he couldn’t talk yet. He’d read enough medical texts to know where this new baby had come from. The fact that he and Marta had arrived via the same process didn’t bear thinking about.
Marta folded her arms together on the table and dropped her face down atop them, then breathed out something inarticulate which conveyed her exasperation, her shame, and her perplexity. Her voice was muffled against the table, but he still heard her groan, “I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead! Somebody bury me now!”
His mom reached over and started rubbing Marta’s back. “Sweetheart, I know this is a shock to both of you, but think of the shock your father and I had. We didn’t think we were going to have any more children.”
Like tumblers in a lock, Jon understood what had happened. “Dad’s aura healed your Fallopian tubes, didn’t it? Isn’t that what Dr. Richards said?” He turned to his father. “You just had to be Superman, didn’t you? You just had to make her all better when she was just fine the way she was!”
His father’s mouth dropped open. “Jon, you don’t—”
“If it weren’t for you being Superman she’d be fine! Her liver would never—”
His mother’s hands slapped the table and she snapped, “That’s enough!”
“But Mom, he—”
“I said ‘Enough!’ I will not allow my son to attack his father for being the best man alive! If you weren’t Superman’s son you wouldn’t be here to make such idiotic accusations!”
Jon knew he wasn’t an idiot. His parents knew it, too. Even Marta knew it, although she’d never admit it. So this was the first time ever that his mother had implied that he wasn’t a genius, or at least close to it.
He tried to think of a response, but nothing came to him that didn’t risk more of Mom’s anger directed at him. So he shut his mouth and leaned back to sulk.
His mother nodded once. “Now I can finish. Yes, your father’s powers obviously healed my tubes, even when we didn’t want them to. And yes, we’re going to have another baby. But because I’m older now than I was when I had you two, I’m going to need your help with a bunch of things.”
“Like what?” Marta asked.
Mom smiled at her. “Like the laundry, the dry cleaning, the dishes, the grocery shopping, the cooking, cleaning up around the house—”
“But Dad already does a bunch of that. And so do Jon and I. Not all of it, sure, but we do a lot of stuff.”
“That’s true, sweetie, but he’s going to need some help. My doctors want me to do a whole lot of sitting and waiting for this baby to get here. So I’m going to do a lot of writing and make a lot of phone calls and sleeping and going to appointments. That’s why my favorite frame rocking chair is in the front room now. I want to be with my family as much as possible while I nurture this new child. Oh, and I’ve picked out a new baby doctor. Jon, I know you’ll want to check her out, so look up Evelyn Marshall. She’s a qualified OB-GYN and pediatric surgeon, and I trust her.”
“I’ll check her out, Mom.”
His mother chuckled. “Just remember that I already have and I approve of her. Now, let’s talk about names for this new baby. Your father and I will take just about any questions or suggestions. Reasonable ones, anyway.”
Marta sat back and crossed her arms, but Jon leaned forward. “Dad, do you want a son or a daughter?”
Clark smiled and put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter to me, Son. I just want our new baby to be healthy.”
“It matters to me, Dad. If Mom has a boy, we’ll be in the majority, but if she has a girl we’ll have to swim against the estrogen tide. Ow!”
“And I’ll kick you again the next time you smart off like that too!” snapped Marta.
Clark gently put his other hand on his daughter’s upper arm. “That’s enough of that, both of you. This is a peaceful family conference, not a combat zone.”
“She caught me right under the kneecap, Dad!”
“And you’re going to drop it, because your sister is going to apologize. Aren’t you, Marta?”
The girl turned her head to the side away from her dad. After a long moment, he tugged lightly on her arm. “Come on, honey, your brother’s waiting.”
Marta slowly turned and glowered at her brother for a few seconds, then said, “I’m sorry you’re such a donkey’s butt—”
“Marta.”
“Okay, Dad. Jon, I’m sorry you’re insensitive and sexist and—”
“Wrong again, Marta. Come on, do it right.”
“Will you please let me go, Dad?”
“When you apologize and not one second before. I don’t want to have to chase you through the house again.”
“Grrr. Okay. Jon, I’m sorry I kicked you in the knee.”
Dad released her. “Jon?”
“Accepted. Now, can we get back to my question?”
Mom chuckled. “That’s already decided, Jon, and you know it. Now, can we discuss potential baby names?”
Both kids creased their faces in thought, then Jon said, “How about Julia Halle Jennifer Elizabeth Amanda Zoe Emma Caroline?”
Marta giggled. “And her nickname will be Pumpkin Blossom!”
Jon watched as his father fought off a smile of his own, then said, “Come on, let’s be a little bit serious, okay?”
Marta nodded. “Okay. I have a unisex name. Is that okay?”
Mom nodded. “It’s fine for a suggestion. What is it?”
Her eyes brightened, but before Jon could cut off what he knew was about to be an inspired but very impish evil thought, she said, “We’ll call the baby ‘Oops’!”
Just as Jon knew they would, his parents exploded into laughter. Marta caught his eye and winked, and he knew they’d be okay.
*****
“Jon, I’m not sure your parents would approve of you seeing me in my office without them. And I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to see me professionally without their consent.”
“Probably not, Dr. Richards, but they tend to filter the medical stuff for me. I want to hear it from the expert.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere with me, young man. I absolutely do NOT want either of your parents coming to see me and asking for an explanation I cannot give.”
“All right. How about if I make some statements which may or may not be true? Then you can let me know if I’m right or wrong.”
“Jonathan Samuel Kent, I will not be a party to your end run around your parents. Besides, I have no doubt that you will simply repeat anything I might tell you to your sister, and I refuse to alarm either of you without a very good reason.”
“Okay, I’ll start. Mom’s Fallopian tubes healed because of Dad’s aura.”
“Hmm.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ Dad’s aura isn’t healing her liver.”
“Hmm.”
“Hey, we’re going for a record. Next question, once again cleverly disguised as a statement: Mom can’t tolerate a transplant or you would have tried it by now, and I’m guessing it’s at least partly because Dad’s aura would increase the rejection factor by suppressing any anti-rejection drug therapy.”
“You’ve been studying more than you should.”
“Three for three, we’re on a roll.”
` “Or a biscuit.”
“With butter and sour cream, if you like. Next statement. Mom’s liver isn’t going to get better by itself, again probably because of Dad’s aura.”
“Now where did you come up with that one?”
“My mother taught me to do research on the web, and my father taught me to put those facts together in a logical order. Do I get another ‘hmm’?”
“You get a free ride home.”
“Before you toss me out on my ear, let me hit you with one more. All this is theory and speculation. None of it is fact. And it’s the kind of thing that you might refer to as ‘unknowable’ if you weren’t personally involved with the patients.”
“Jon, I’m only going to tell you this once. Your mother’s liver is, as you well know, weaker than it might be – no, weaker than it should be. Extreme stresses can damage a weakened liver. You already knew all that, so I’m telling no tales out of school. But I’m going to do my dead level best to make sure nothing happens to her and that you and Marta grow up with a mom and not a memory.”
“Why can’t you clone her liver? Because of Dad’s aura, at least partly? Or is that in the land of dragons also?”
“Where did you hear – you sneaky little hacker! You broke into my notes! Do you have any idea how much legal trouble you could get into? Not to mention what your parents will do to you!”
“It was Dr. Klein’s work computer, actually, but I’m right, am I not?”
“Go home, Jon! And the next time you try to hack either one of us, you’ll find a firewall from James Olsen bristling with angry Orcs! Get through that if you can!”
*****
Jon finished his explanation and waited for his sister to react. He didn’t usually allow her in his room, but this was a special circumstance. Marta hugged herself and looked at the floor. “I want to ask you what all that means but I’m too scared.”
Jon wrapped his arms around her and pulled her head to his shoulder. “I know, Mart, I’m a little scared too. But I wanted to know everything I could know about Mom.”
“Does all that mean that she – she’s gonna – gonna – die?”
He tightened his grip. “I don’t know. But I think we should be prepared for it.”
She sobbed. “And how – how am I – supposed to – do that?”
He rubbed her back. “I don’t know. Just – just don’t be too surprised if it happens, I guess. And if it doesn’t, then it doesn’t.” He dropped a kiss her hair. “And you keep that link thing going with Mom, okay? I want us to be there if – if she needs us.”
Marta sobbed again. “I don’t want to see her die! I don’t!”
“Shh, it’s okay. I know. And she’s not dying tonight, Mart. We have at least a few months left with her, and maybe lots of years.”
“I did all my chores. I even got dinner stuff out for us.”
“You did great, Mart. If I have to be saddled with a sister, I’m glad it’s you.”
She leaned back and smiled through damp eyes. “Yeah, well, as a brother, you’re not completely intolerable yourself.”
“Thanks. You know, even if the worst happens, we’ll still have Dad and Grandma Ellen and Grandpa Sam and Aunt Lucy and Grandpa and Grandma Kent. They’re not going anywhere.”
“True dat,” she sniffed. “And we’d have to take care of Dad, too. He’s helpless without Mom.”
“Mmm, maybe not totally helpless, but close to it.”
The siblings shared a quiet laugh, then Marta said, “Hey, how about you and me having an argument tonight? Mom and Dad should feel needed.”
“Yeah, they’re about ready for it. Just let me pick the subject this time.”
“My figure is off-limits!”
“Then so is my facial hair.”
“What facial hair? Mom and Dad should have named you ‘Peach’!”
Jon picked up a pillow and hit her in the face with it. She jumped on him and started pulling his ears away from his head. He responded by tickling her in the ribs. She chopped her elbows down onto his fingers just as their martial arts instructor had taught her. He snatched his hands back, then grabbed her by the hair and pulled her down on the floor on top of him. She landed with her knee in his stomach.
“Ow!” “Leggo!” “You leggo!” “No tickling!” “You started it!” “No, you did!” “Get off my knee!” “Let go of my hair!” “I’m telling Mom!”
“Ahem!”
They froze in place and slowly untangled, then looked at the doorway to Jon’s room. Both Dad and Mom were standing there with stern expressions on their faces. As Jon opened his mouth, Dad raised his hand and pointed at them.
“I do NOT want to hear it! Marta, go to your room and put away your laundry. Jon, you stay here and straighten out your bed. Both of you are confined to your rooms after supper.”
Marta gave him a shove as she walked by, then looked back and winked. It was all he could do to growl at her and not smile.
Mission accomplished for tonight.
~~~~~~
The Karen Carpenter reference is from The Carpenters: The Untold Story, written by Ray Coleman and published in 1994.
Last edited by Terry Leatherwood; 01/10/15 11:35 AM. Reason: Add reference note
