Link to Chapter 15Link to TOCEpilogue
Four months later . . .“Clark, sweetie, we leave in fifteen minutes!” Martha popped her head into Clark’s room, and he looked up from where he sat on his bed, tugging at the tie around his neck. “Oh my goodness, don’t you look handsome.”
Clark frowned and shook his head. “I-I can’t—I can’t get it right. It’s—it’s crooked or something,” Clark stammered. He started unknotting the tie for what had to be the hundredth time. Jonathan had shown him how to tie it, and they’d practiced a bunch of times. And today, Clark wanted to do it himself, because it was a very important day.
Maybe the most important day ever.
But he couldn’t seem to get it right.
He closed his eyes and dropped his hands onto the bed next to him with a heavy, frustrated sigh. A moment later, Martha’s hands settled on his knees, and when he looked up at her, she was kneeling in front of him, smiling in that way that she did when she seemed to just know what was going on in his head.
Only today, she couldn’t possibly know. She couldn’t possibly understand, either.
He was excited. Happy and excited and
more than ready to officially be their son. Jonathan and Martha were the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he still couldn’t believe how wonderful living with them was—how they made him feel so good and so loved, and how nice they were, and how they took care of him every single day.
But at the same time, they still didn’t know things about him. Important things. Things that would no doubt change
everything if they were to find out.
After all, who could possibly love a child who wasn’t even human?
He bit his lower lip as one annoying tear snuck out of the corner of his eye, followed by another and another. Sniffling, he swiped at his cheeks and shook his head.
“I-I can do it,” he said. “I’ll t-try again, and—and—and—” He groaned and shut up, now angry at himself for his stammering
and his inability to do even the simplest thing—something he was infinitely sure every little
human boy his age could do—knot his tie. He reached up and took both of the ends in his hands again, and Martha squeezed his knees gently.
“You can do it. There you go,” she said as he started, crossing the longer end of the tie over the front of the shorter end, just like Jonathan had shown him. She stayed there with him, praising him at each step, though she didn’t try to help him otherwise. “That’s it! There you go, Clark. I think you did it!”
He tugged the end through the top knot and pulled down with one hand while pushing the knot up and straightening it with the other. And…and it was okay this time?
Clark risked a look up at Martha, and she was nodding encouragingly, her eyes bright with whatever it was that always made him feel so good.
“It’s okay?”
“It’s perfect, sweetie. Here, take a look,” Martha said, and she stood and took his hand, then led him out of his bedroom and into the bathroom so he could see himself in the mirror. “See, perfect!”
Swallowing, Clark dared to look at his reflection. He stood tall and pulled back his shoulders, studying the dark-blue tie that contrasted with the bright white of his dress shirt. It was straight and neat. He had gotten it right. Finally.
Martha stepped behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. He met her eyes in the mirror, and she smiled, then bent down and kissed the top of his head. He thought he saw tears in her eyes, even though she smiled, and he turned around and looked up at her, frowning.
She
was crying.
A sharp pain seized his stomach. “A-are you…are you sad?” he asked, his voice small and rough. Maybe she didn’t want him after all. Maybe she and Jonathan weren’t—
“No, no, sweetie. Not at all. I’m so happy,” Martha said. Kneeling down next to him, she wiped the corner of her eye. And then she settled her hands back on his shoulders. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been. And it’s because of you, my beautiful, beautiful boy.”
Her smile wrapped around him like the warmest blanket, and he felt all of her love push away those awful doubts and fears.
She did love him.
She did want him.
She didn’t know his secret, but maybe…maybe she never really had to know anyway.
“You…really want me? To be your son?” he asked slowly. His chest felt tight with worry as he stared at her, waiting for her to answer. What was probably only half a second seemed to stretch on forever and ever, and he somehow saw every flicker of emotion in her eyes in that half a second.
All of it was love.
Every single bit.
She nodded. “Of course I do, sweetie. That’s—”
He didn’t let her finish. He fell forward into her and wrapped both of his arms around her neck, and then he whispered, “I love you…mama.”
“Oh, Clark, I love you too.” She kiss his cheek and hugged him back, and even though he started crying again, it was for a different reason this time.
There was a quiet knock on the bathroom door, and Clark blinked back his tears and turned to look at Jonathan standing in the doorway. The older man was smiling, and Clark grinned back proudly as he let go of Martha and ran a hand down the front of his tie.
“Look, I did it all by myself!” he declared. “It’s good, right?”
“It’s wonderful, buddy,” Jonathan said.
Clark looked over his shoulder at Martha, who was now standing again, and then back at Jonathan. “Is it time to go?” he asked.
Jonathan nodded. “Yep, it’s about an hour’s drive to the courthouse. Emma will meet us there, and we’ll talk with the judge, and—”
“—and then, you’ll really be my dad?” Clark said, straightening up more. Jonathan nodded, and Clark turned back to Martha. “And you’ll really be my mom?”
Martha also nodded, her eyes looking teary again. Clark knew this time that she wasn’t sad, though, and so he grinned up at her and took her hand. She squeezed gently, and together, the three of them headed out to the truck, climbed in, and got on the road.
When they returned a few hours later, he would have a new name. He would be
Clark Kent. He would be their son.
And he would do the very best he could to put everything else behind him. To be normal. To fit in. To be exactly what he looked like—a human boy.
And
no one, not even his new parents, ever had to know anything different.
The End (To Be Continued…)
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