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They flew at a relatively leisurely pace northwest from St. Lucia toward Kansas. Her arms remained firmly wrapped around his neck, and her head rested gently on his shoulder. She absently wondered how many miles she’d traveled like this in the eight years since Superman had first flown into her life, and she tightened her hold on him. He smiled and briefly glanced down at her before focusing back ahead of them on their flight path. They’d dipped just below the thin cloud layer, and she knew he needed to concentrate so they didn’t run into any aircraft or birds or lose altitude. She giggled and buried her head in his shoulder as a memory surfaced.
“What’s so funny?”
Although he maintained his focus ahead of them, his tone was amused, and she felt his fingers curl around her just a little stronger.
“Remember your birthday four years ago?” she snorted, laughing harder into his shoulder.
“Oh, god, Lois, I thought you promised never to bring that up again.”
A mischievous look crossed his face, and he suddenly dropped them about fifty feet straight down. She squealed and clung to him.
“Clark! I don’t need a replay!”
She swatted at his chest, and he laughed, a deep full laugh, one she realized hadn’t heard from him in quite some time. She leaned into him again and closed her eyes, reliving the memory. They’d been flying back from his parents’ house after a small birthday celebration. Still newlyweds then, not even married for a year yet, it had taken all of their willpower to keep their hands off each other during dinner. As soon as they were alone, hidden in the clouds, he’d flipped over to his back and settled her above him as they continued flying toward Metropolis. She remembered his hands reaching up under her shirt to touch her, and she remembered moaning and tightening her legs around his hips. He’d groaned in response and tilted his head back as she leaned into him and trailed kisses along the edge of the blue spandex at his neckline. Then, they’d suddenly broken through the cloud layer out into clear open skies, and a 747 commercial jet full of passengers seemed to materialize directly alongside them. Stunned, his eyes had flown open, and he’d cursed under his breath. Within the next millisecond, his arms had wrapped around her tightly, and he’d dropped them straight down several hundred feet, causing her to scream right in his ear.
“I couldn’t hear anything out of my left ear for a week after that, you know,” he reminded her, as though he’d read her thoughts.
She giggled again and kissed his cheek playfully.
“Worse than that—you were so scared that someone on the plane had seen us, so you spent hours scouring the news when we got home, expecting to see some explosive headline about Superman making love in the clouds, and you completely neglected me,” she teased, loosening one of her hands from around his neck and tracing a finger seductively down below the neckline of his suit.
“Lois . . .”
His voice carried a hint of a warning—he definitely did not want her distracting him—but she heard his amusement as well. She removed her finger from underneath his suit and patted his chest lightly.
“I’ll be good,” she promised. Her arm looped back up around his neck, and she settled her head against his shoulder again as she scanned the ground thousands of feet below. “We’re almost there.”
“Thank you and yes,” he answered. He squinted a bit as he peered miles ahead of them. “Mom is waiting for us on the porch. She has fresh chocolate chip cookies.”
“Ooooh, yum!”
Clark chuckled and sped up slightly, maintaining their high altitude until they reached the Kent farm. As always, she felt him tighten his arms around her just before he began descending sharply, as though to warn her so she was prepared for the rapid drop. She instinctively closed her eyes until she felt his feet touch the ground, and she slid out of his embrace smoothly and moved away from him a couple steps so he could spin out of the suit into more comfortable clothes. They’d done this so many times now, she barely even had to think about it, and she deftly slipped her arm back around his waist as he finished his spin.
She glanced sideways at him, now sporting a black long-sleeved shirt and medium-gray jeans, as they approached the porch, and she had to force herself to breathe.
He’s so incredibly handsome, she thought. Her fingers tightened around his waist, and she felt his muscles tense slightly under her touch. Reluctantly, she dropped her arm from around his waist.
Martha sat on the porch in front of them, less than twenty feet away, but didn’t seem to have noticed their arrival. Her straw-colored hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she wore a loose-fitting pale green sweater. She slowly turned the page in her novel, her reading glasses glinting in the afternoon sun.
“Mom, hi!” Clark called. He stepped away from Lois toward the porch and took the steps two at a time. Lois followed him, smiling as Martha looked up sharply from her book and grinned.
“Oh, Clark, Lois!” Martha closed her book and stood up, her arms outstretched to welcome her son. “Oh, I’m so glad you decided to stop by.”
Lois hung back a couple steps as Clark enveloped his mother in his arms. As always, Lois’s heart warmed to see them together; she knew so much of who Clark was could be attributed to the amazing woman standing before them—to her kindness, compassion, and strong sense of morality. And since Jonathan had passed away, they’d grown even closer. Seeing Martha’s joy now, her huge, bright smile lighting up her face, Lois felt tears of joy tickle at her eyes. However, at the same time, she had a sudden sense of foreboding, as though this moment was fragile, delicate, breakable. She stepped up behind Clark, resting her hand gently on his back.
“Do I get a hug too?” Lois asked jokingly.
“Oh, of course, honey,” Martha answered, releasing Clark and turning toward Lois.
A look of longing briefly crossed the older woman’s face, followed quickly by a small smile, and Lois realized Martha had noticed the heirloom necklace Clark had given her earlier that day. The women embraced momentarily, and Lois closed her eyes as a feeling of tranquility overcame her. She lingered in the older woman’s arms for another moment, whispering “Thank you,” into Martha’s ear before pulling away. Martha gave her a knowing smile.
“Happy anniversary, you two,” Martha said happily, sitting back down in her chair and motioning to the younger couple to join her. “I bet you had a great time in St. Lucia.”
“Yes, Mom, we did,” Clark confirmed. “It was . . . relaxing.”
He placed a hand on Lois’s arm and guided her to the cushioned seat on the other side of her mother-in-law. She smiled up at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek lightly before sitting.
Lois studied him as he took his own seat. His easy smile was maybe slightly forced, the corners of his lips just a little taut, and his hand gripped the arm rest with a tiny bit of tension. But his eyes showed pure joy as he regarded his mother, and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he began describing their wonderful weekend getaway.
He told Martha about the luxurious beachfront villa where they’d stayed, the different foods they’d tasted, the incredible sea turtles they’d seen on their snorkeling excursion, and the extraordinary views they’d had from the peak of the Pitons. She watched him, a master storyteller, describe in great detail the things he knew his mother would love to have seen, like how they had watched the sunset from the top of Gros Piton, the sky turning first orange and then pink, and how the white sands of the beaches had felt warm and pliant under their feet, and how the people of the island had been welcoming and kind. It was easy to get lost in his stories, Lois noted, as she found herself closing her eyes and reimagining the scenes he painted with his words.
Soon, he finished talking and settled back in his chair. The three of them sat in a comfortable silence for several minutes, watching as the sun fell below the hills in the distance.
Martha was the first to break the silence. She gathered her novel and the plate of cookies and stood. “Oh, Clark, dear, before you go,” she started, turning to him, “can you do me a favor and change the light bulb in the barn? It burned out a few days ago, and I haven’t gotten around to fixing it yet.”
“Of course, Mom,” he replied, pulling himself to his feet. He moved past Lois, allowing his fingers to trace along her arm almost teasingly, and hopped down the stairs, breaking into a jog toward the barn.
“Oh, take your time, Clark. Lois and I need to chat for a few minutes,” Martha explained, raising her voice slightly. “And don’t even think about eavesdropping!”
“Got it, Mom!” He threw them a thumbs up and slowed his pace to a walk.
“Come on, Lois, you can help me put these cookies away,” Martha said conspiratorially.
She led Lois inside the house, and they headed straight toward the dimly lit kitchen, where Martha then took out a medium sized Tupperware and began transferring the extra cookies into the container.
Lois noted the older woman’s fingers seemed restless, almost shaky, and she reached over to help Martha.
“Here, let me,” Lois offered.
“Thank you, dear.”
Martha’s voice sounded tired, which wasn’t that unusual; the older woman had slowed down quite a bit in the last year or two. Jonathan’s passing had taken a toll on her. But Lois also heard a hint of something else in her voice—concern maybe? Lois finished transferring the last of the cookies, and Martha took a long sip of her tea before reaching out and taking Lois’s hands in hers.
“Tell me what’s going on,” she said bluntly, her intense eyes trapping Lois’s gaze.
Lois’s eyes narrowed in confusion, and she instinctively pulled her hands away from Martha’s.
“I’m sorry, Martha, I don’t know what you mean.”
“Clark—something is wrong with him, isn’t it, dear?”
Fear gripped Lois. So she hadn’t been imagining it. Martha had seen it, or felt it, as well. Lois lowered her eyes for a moment, and her hands settled on the counter, palms open, as though grounding her.
“I—I know something is wrong,” she admitted. “But I don’t know what it is. He hasn’t told me anything.”
“But you see it, right?” Martha implored, her hand once again reaching out to cover Lois’s. “He’s . . . in pain or . . . something.”
Lois sensed the hesitation in her mother-in-law’s voice, and she nodded slightly, her mouth set in a tight frown.
“He’s been, hmm, maybe ‘troubled’ is the right word, for the last month or two, about,” Lois explained quietly, subconsciously lowering her voice. “But for the last few weeks or so, there’s just been little things, you know—like, he’ll hesitate before going out on a rescue, or his smile just isn’t quite right. I don’t know, Martha.”
She paused and let her gaze drift out the window toward the barn. The barn doors were wide open, and the light from the setting sun illuminated the space. She could just make out the outline of her husband’s figure standing atop a tall ladder in the middle of the barn aisle. The wonderful boy scout he was—doing just as his mother asked and taking his time with the task. She frowned and turned back to Martha, lowering her voice even further.
“On Friday, after he got back from Los Angeles—I’ve never seen him so exhausted, emotionally or physically. He actually stumbled and fell, and I swear I saw him wince in pain when he hit the ground . . . I’m glad you noticed something, because I thought I was imagining it. Or, not imagining it, but . . .” She grimaced, although a flicker of anger lit in her chest, too. “Maybe I naïvely thought if something really was wrong, he’d tell me about it.”
Martha held Lois’s gaze for a second and then turned to look out the window, as Lois had a moment before. The older woman looked more tired now, Lois noted, and she wondered how long Martha had been worried about Clark.
“He’s always been one to try to bury his problems, as you well know,” Martha said. Lois nodded in response and watched as Martha closed her eyes. “But,” she continued, “I just have a bad feeling that something is very, very wrong, Lois, I can’t explain it.”
“I had the same feeling earlier,” Lois admitted, glancing again out to the barn.
Through the open barn doors, Clark’s silhouette stepped leisurely down the rungs of the ladder. The two women watched as he folded up the ladder and disappeared into the shadows of the barn. A moment later, he exited the barn and closed the barn door. He seemed to hesitate as he latched the barn doors.
“We’re finished now, Clark,” Martha said in a normal voice. “You can come in.”
From a distance, Lois saw Clark’s posture change, as though he realized they were watching him, and he quickly spun around and gave them a sheepish wave before breaking into a slow jog toward the front porch.
Martha quickly turned to Lois again and wrapped the younger woman in a hug. Lois returned the embrace.
“Please, Lois, I can’t lose my boy too,” Martha agonized, her hoarse voice full of emotion. “Call me after you’ve talked to him. Please.”
“I will,” Lois whispered in response, though she had no idea how she was going to start the conversation with her husband.
The front door opened behind them, and Clark stepped inside, a smile on his face.
“One light bulb replacement complete!” he said cheerily, dusting his hands on his jeans for emphasis. He straightened his glasses and stepped toward the two women in the kitchen, betraying no hint of any discomfort.
Martha’s hand squeezed Lois’s supportively, and Lois returned the gesture. Her heart pounded in her chest, which she knew Clark could hear.
“Thank you, sweetie. What would I do without you?” Martha quickly moved into the foyer and wrapped her arms around her son’s waist.
“I’m sure you’d have climbed that ladder yourself if you needed to, Mom. But, please don’t. You can call me any time, and I’ll come right down and help with whatever you need,” he promised.
Lois watched as the two embraced, and she again felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. It was just as Martha had said. Something was very, very wrong.
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