Sunday November 16, 2008
The fire in the fireplace crackled, sending dancing shadows across the rapidly darkening living room. Lois was curled up on the couch under a blanket with JP reading library books when Clark and Mattie came through the garage door. She leaned back, trying unsuccessfully to get a look at Mattie’s face to see how she was doing. After her initial shock the previous night, Mattie seemed to warm up to the idea of her developing powers quickly. Clark had taken her outside to see what she could do with a little focus and to talk to her about his own initial attempts to understand and control his powers.
After Mattie had gone to bed, Clark had given Lois a full report. She’d been able to replicate the super strength only twice, both times when she had pushed herself to a breaking point, frustrated and angry at her inability to summon the power. So far she didn’t seem to be exhibiting any other powers, though they suspected her invulnerability was kicking in given the fact that, as she had asserted, she seemed completely unaffected by the sub-freezing temperature.
Clark had wanted to test her speed, but needed a wide open area to run with her. That was how they’d wound up spending most of the afternoon and early evening in Smallville, while Lois and JP had spent the afternoon running errands and the evening hanging out at home.
“Daddy!” JP called when he spotted Clark. “Look at all my new library books!”
“Awesome, buddy. Save some for me to read,” he said, walking into the living room.
He ruffled JP’s hair, before bending to kiss Lois’ cheek and then crouching in front of her. He rubbed a hand gently over her blanket-covered thigh. “I love coming home to you,” he whispered, and her heart squeezed pleasantly.
She reached for him, stroking his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re home,” she replied, her double meaning clear.
“I brought dinner,” he said.
“Oh, you didn’t have to-”
“I didn’t do anything but deliver it,” he said, raising an eyebrow, and Lois realized abruptly that the food was from Martha.
She laughed. “I’m not going to argue with that. How did it go today?”
“It was...super,” he said, giving her a meaningful look, and then darting a glance at JP. “I’ll tell you all about it tonight. I’m going to go heat the soup.”
They ate dinner and then gravitated back toward the fire. Lois sat in the middle of the couch, back under the large warm blanket, and JP climbed under the blanket and curled up next to her. Clark sifted through the bags of library books for a picture book to read JP and pulled out a thin chapter book. “Oh, good idea, Lois. Mattie, did you see what your mom got?”
Clark tossed her The Tale of Despereaux, and Mattie’s face lit up. A movie based on the book was being heavily promoted in time for it’s upcoming Christmas release, and Mattie had been begging to see it as soon as it came out. She’d read the book in school a couple years previously, and had loved it.
Lois expected Mattie to disappear into her room with the book, but instead she handed it back to Clark. “Will you read it?”
Clark glanced at JP. “What do you think, buddy? You want Despereaux?”
He agreed enthusiastically, and Clark carried the book to the couch. Lois lifted the blanket she was snuggled under in invitation and he slid in next to her. Mattie sat crossed legged next to Clark, where she could see the illustrations.
“Ok, let’s see,” said Clark, settling in and opening the book to the first page, and beginning to read. “This story begins within the walls of a castle, with the birth of a mouse. A small mouse. The last mouse born to his parents and the only one of his litter to be born alive…”
His voice washed over her, and Lois slid her hand under the blanket and onto his thigh, squeezing gently. The corners of his mouth curved up, but he didn't miss a beat and continued reading. She was so content, warm and surrounded by everyone she loved most, that for a moment it didn’t even feel real. She felt tears well up as she thought about how grateful she was, and how she almost went her whole life without another night like this. She tried not to think of how many nights she’d wasted. How many nights Clark had read to the kids on his couch, in his house, while she sat home alone. How many nights she’d read to them, while he sat home alone, lonely, missing his family. The stab of guilt took her breath away. She didn’t deserve this happiness.
Clark must have sensed some shift in her emotions, some stiffening in her muscles or change in her breathing or heart rate. He turned the page and shifted the book to one hand, then slid the other beneath the blanket and covered her hand with his, caressing it gently. She flipped her hand over and he threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed.
His love soothed her, beating back the self recrimination, and allowing her to revel in the present. She sighed happily and let her head rest on his shoulder. She squeezed his hand one more time, then released it, resting her hand back on his thigh, giving him back the use of his other hand.
They stayed like that for an hour, listening quietly as Clark read. JP snuggled in her lap at some point, to see the pictures better, and eventually his eyelids drifted shut. Finally, Clark closed the book, declaring it bedtime.
“One more chapter?” Mattie wheedled.
“Not tonight, Mattie. We’ll read more tomorrow. Go get ready for bed.” She did as she was asked, and Clark shifted on the couch, turning to face Lois. He reached out and stroked her cheek, then bent his head to kiss her gently.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“For reading a bedtime story?” he joked.
“You know what I mean,” she said quietly. “For giving me back this. I’m so sorry, Clark.”
“I don’t want your apologies,” he said softly. “All I ever wanted was my family back, and you gave me that. I’m so grateful to you.”
He kissed her again, then slid his hand from her cheek. He eased JP’s sleeping body off of her lap and into his arms. “Now...I’m going to take him to his bed. In our home,” he said softly, standing.
She watched him walk upstairs with their baby and let that feeling of contentment wash away any lingering sadness.
****
When Clark came back down, Lois was scrolling through her calendar for the week, brow furrowed.
“JP’s out. Mattie’s in bed. I told her she could read for thirty minutes.”
“Thanks,” she said distractedly. “Hey, can we talk about this week? I feel like it’s going to be crazy busy.”
“Sure,” he said, sitting next to her and pulling out his phone.
“I really need to put in some extra hours at the paper this week so I can work from home next week when the kids are out of school for Thanksgiving Break. Unless…when is your mom coming? Has she decided?”
“Not until Wednesday. She wants to do some holiday stuff with friends since she’s staying for a few weeks.”
Lois nodded. “The kids are going to be so excited. I can’t wait to tell them. But that means I absolutely have to finish the last two articles in my series this week, if I’m going to be out of the office all next week.”
“I can try-“
Lois waved him off. “It’s fine. I can work on my book from home next week. But I need to wrap up stuff at the paper this week to make that work. Can you do Wednesday and Thursday so I can work late?”
Clark grimaced. “I can do Wednesday, no problem. And I can do pickup Thursday, but I have a meeting with the mayor at 7.”
“The mayor?” Lois asked, looking up in confusion. Clark shrugged and waved his hand in the air, their long-time sign for flying, and she realized he meant Superman had a meeting with the mayor.
“Oh. Okay,” she said, making a calendar entry that said “Clark staff meeting” — her catch all shorthand for Superman appointments . “What about tomorrow? Can I work late tomorrow?”
He grimaced again. “I have an actual staff meeting at 5.”
Lois took a breath, trying to tamp down her frustration.
“I’m sorry. It shouldn’t last too long, but I don’t think I can make it to pickup on time. Can you get them and bring them to me at work, then go back to the Planet? I know that’s a pain, but…”
“I’m already going to have to be out of the office for therapy tomorrow,” she said with a sigh.
“We could reschedule,” he suggested tentatively.
“No,” she said firmly. “Therapy is a priority. I’ll figure out work.”
He reached over and squeezed her knee. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Clark,” she said lightly. “But this is a pain in the ass.”
He laughed. “I know. It’ll be so much better when my mom can tap in on crazy weeks.”
“Okay, let’s do this... I’ll pick them up tomorrow and bring them to you. Then I’m going back to work. Probably super late. Tuesday will be normal. Wednesday they are all yours. Thursday they’re all mine. And Friday is Art Night at the kids’ school. I got the tickets. They’re in my desk. We need to get the kids early, if we are going to eat and change and be back by 7. Can you get them? Like 5?”
Clark nodded. “You know, we had an annual art night at Smallville Elementary too.”
“Oh, really,” Lois said with a smirk, already knowing where this conversation was headed. “I don’t suppose there was a full bar and coat check.”
“No, no there was not.”
“A silent auction?”
“No. There were no hundred dollar tickets either. Our parents just showed up in jeans and pretended to be impressed with our hideous art.”
Lois laughed. “I know. I know.”
“It’s ridiculous, Lois.”
“You knew what we were signing up for. Don’t act like I tricked you,” she teased.
He and Lois had both attended public schools, but her experience in a large, affluent Metropolis public school was light years from Clark’s experience in Smallville. And she knew that adjusting to a private school community that included the children of some of the richest and most famous Metropolis families could be surreal for him at times.
But as much as he liked to complain, Clark had been the deciding factor in choosing the obnoxiously expensive private school their children attended. They’d gone round and round when Mattie was in preschool, applying to multiple private and public magnet schools. They’d been drawn to this school because of its focus on international culture and foreign languages, making the school far more diverse than most of the elite private schools in the city. But Clark in particular still struggled with the elitism and classism inherent in an expensive private school education.
Ultimately, it was the school’s security that was the deciding factor. A school used to protecting the children of diplomats, politicians, international business executives and celebrities had extensive security measures in place that couldn’t be replicated at most schools. Their family might not be as rich or famous as some of their kids’ classmates, but given their extensive history of criminals seeking retribution for past investigations, they had more reason to fear than most. They were more than willing to shell out the ridiculous tuition — and the never-ending stream of donations — for that peace of mind.
“I bought Mattie a dress today. She grew so much this summer. I didn’t think any of her winter dresses from last year would fit. I need to remember to have her try it on tomorrow.”
“Did you buy yourself a new dress?” Clark asked, suddenly more enthusiastic.
She laughed. “I did. But don’t get too excited. It’s for Art Night at our kids’ school. It’s not particularly exciting.”
“Everything you wear is exciting,” he teased, reaching for her. His hand settled against her back, tugging her closer. He kissed her neck, and she reached up to run a hand through his hair. “We need another date night soon, though. An excuse for you to wear something a little extra exciting.”
She pulled away, warring with herself. She knew he could tell she was struggling with what she was about to say, and he didn’t say a word. He just waited quietly, the hand on the small of her back stroking gently. That sweet patience tipped the scales.
“Take me to the ball?”
He inhaled slowly, his emotions plain on his face as he nodded. “Oh, yes,” he whispered. “I would love that so much.”
The annual Daily Planet charity ball, held the second Saturday in December, had always been one of the highlights of their holiday season. The last time they’d attended, she had been six months pregnant with JP, showing enough that she’d had to buy a maternity dress and had complained endlessly about the terrible selection. But she’d been so thrilled with the growing bump that she couldn’t even keep a straight face during her fashion rants. By the next year, their marriage was already strained enough that romantic nights out were off the table. In the years that followed, she could never bring herself to attend, even though her superiors had made it very clear that they expected their big names to be in attendance.
“The tickets are in my desk with the Art Night tickets,” she said, reaching for his hand and trying to stifle the panicky feeling that threatened to ruin her enjoyment of this moment. “They’ve been sitting in there for two weeks. I usually just donate them, but this year…”
He nodded, and stroked her hands. She hoped he couldn’t feel them shaking.
“I can’t wait to dance with you,” he said softly, and she smiled.
“Why are you scared?” he asked gently. “What is it that you’re worried about? I know you’re not worried about us. Is it the ball? So many memories?”
She hesitated. “It’s not that. It’s not just the ball either. I’m nervous about Art Night too. I’m just dreading being the hot gossip topic of the night. You know when I show up on your arm, everyone is going to speculate. And a part of me doesn’t care, because I’m so proud to be with you, and I love you so much. But...I still hate it. I hate knowing they are talking about us.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you they won’t talk, but I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t think they mean any harm.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and threaded his fingers through her hair. His face was so open and earnest, like he couldn’t imagine anyone being anything but thrilled for them.
“I just wish we could live in a world where this wasn’t newsworthy. Where this isn’t the first time I’ve showed up to a school event on your arm. Where we never missed a single charity ball. I wish this was old hat for us.”
“I know, sweetheart. There are so many things I would change if I could. But we can only go forward.”
“All this time. I wasted all this time. I let us suffer because I was so sure my way was the right way. I just want to rewind and redo those years. I just want…”
“A divorce annulment,” he said softly, with a small smile.
“I know that sounds ridiculous,” she said. “It’s a silly way of describing it. But if I can’t go back in time and change things, I wish at least that we could skip this awkward phase where we have to tell a million people and wait for their judgement. I don’t need them to judge me. I am perfectly capable of doing that myself.”
“So far everyone we’ve told has been thrilled for us,” he reminded her. “No one is judging you.”
“I know, but these aren’t our closest friends. And even the good reactions hurt. I don’t want to hear another person say it’s about time or ask what took us so long. It’s just a reminder that I dragged this out so much longer than necessary. That I wasted so much of our time. Everyone could see it but me, which just reinforces the fact that I should have seen it, must have seen it, and still kept us apart.”
“Being apart made us fix things,” he said quietly. “If we reconciled too soon, we might never have had the hardest discussions. We might have just swept it under the rug and let it fester. You forced us to examine all the cracks and find ways to heal them. Our marriage is better now because we did the hard things. I know you want to pretend these last four year never happened, but I don’t want that. Because I’ve learned a lot in four years. And we fixed all the broken parts of us. And that’s something that should be celebrated, not hidden.”
He paused, started to speak, hesitated, and then finally said, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
She watched in confusion as he suddenly stood and jogged upstairs. She took a shaky breath and let out a soft sob, unable to hold it back any longer. She scrubbed at her eyes, wiping away the tears.
He was back, striding quickly to the couch and sitting beside her again, this time with a small, black, rectangular box in his hand. “I love you so much,” he said, handing her the box. “Open it.”
She fought back the urge to ask questions and opened the box. The necklace nestled inside was stunning. Dangling from a delicate gold chain was a glossy stone pendant the size of a quarter set in gold. The creamy white stone was shiny and faceted, reflecting the flickering light. Shot through the stone were delicate threads of gold. She rubbed her thumb over it instinctively, expecting the gold to be raised, as if painted on, but the stone was smooth and she realized the gold was inlaid.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly, raising her eyes to meet his.
“In Japan, there’s an art style that is as much philosophy as it is art. It’s called kintsugi. It started with pottery. Broken pieces of ceramics were repaired rather than discarded because the artists believed the object still had value and should be saved not wasted. Rather than try to hide the repairs, they used gold, highlighting the cracks, because they believed the history of its brokenness was not something shameful to be hidden, and it’s repair was something that should be celebrated. The end effect was not just a beautiful record of the object’s history, but also a much more valuable object. By using gold for their repairs, they made the objects, simple pottery, infinitely more precious. That stone is a rare form of opal, which has always symbolized love, and it was cracked and repaired with gold by an artist in Tokyo. I bought it for you last year. I’ve been waiting for the right time to give it to you.”
Lois looked back and forth from his face to the necklace, stunned speechless by both this perfect gift and by his faith in their love. Finally she took the necklace from its box and held it out to him. “Put it on me?”
He closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Then he took the necklace from her and stood, draping it around her neck. She swept her hair to the side, and he fastened the delicate clasp and kissed the spot where it rested against her skin. She inhaled sharply and turned to him, her hands cradling his face as his lips met hers. He slid his arm beneath her legs and scooped her in his arms, standing.
He pulled his lips from hers and when she opened her eyes, his gaze was on her. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”
He bent his head and captured her lips again. Then he carried her through the living room to the stairs and up to their bedroom.
Monday November 17, 2008
Lois sat in the waiting room chair and checked her phone. Nothing. She hoped that meant Clark was on his way. He’d been gone when she woke up, his side of the bed already cold. He had left a simple “I love you” note on her nightstand, and when she got to work, she saw where he had been -- an apartment fire on the south side of the city. That was under control by the time she got to work though, and she hadn't heard otherwise, so she assumed he’d be there anytime.
She heard the door and looked up to see him entering the waiting room, one hand at his tie. He smiled and winked at her, and she felt like a giddy school girl, smiling and sitting up straighter as he approached. He sat in the chair next to her, and she turned her body to face him, reaching up to straighten his tie and smooth the wrinkles from his shirt. He cast a quick glance at the front desk to make sure the receptionist was busy, and then slid his hands onto her cheeks and held her in place while he kissed her.
He pulled back, and stroked her cheek once more before dropping his hands to his lap. “I’ve been waiting to do that all morning. I’m sorry I had to leave so early.”
“It’s fine,” she said quickly, reaching to rest her hands on his. “Are you okay? Everything’s okay?”
“No fatalities,” he said softly. “There’s a woman in the ICU due to smoke inhalation, and an elderly man in surgery after a heart attack. Everything else was minor. “
“Good, good,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “I’m glad you were there.”
“Me too, but all things considered, I’d rather have been in our bed with you.”
“Last night was...” she began breathlessly.
“Intense? I know. You are so beautiful. I haven’t stopped thinking about you all morning.”
She reached up and stroked his cheek, and he turned his head to kiss her palm.
“Can we just skip therapy and go home?” she joked. “I think we’re good.”
He laughed. “Do not tempt me.”
The door to the inner office swung open. “Too late,” Lois teased. “We missed our chance to escape.”
“Just say the word, and I’ll have you out of here faster than a speeding bullet.”
She laughed, turning more fully toward him letting her hair fall like a curtain around her face, hiding her laughter from the departing couple.
He stroked her hair, tucking it behind her ear, and gazed at her with such undisguised adoration that it was all she could do not to launch herself into his arms.
“Ready?” Dr. Booker asked from the doorway to her office, eyebrows raised and an amused smile on her face.
“Busted,” Lois said, and Clark rolled his eyes playfully as he stood and offered her his hand. She stood and slipped her hand into his, squeezing it as they walked into the office.
As they sat on the loveseat, the conditioned anxiety response started to creep up on her. She felt her jaw clench and her heart begin to race. Clark clocked it immediately, and shook his head at her, then leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“Relax,” he whispered in her ear. “The only thing on my agenda today is to tell you how much I love you. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
He sat back up, and she squeezed his hand appreciatively.
“You two look...cozy,” Dr. Booker began. “Everything is good, overall?”
“Perfect,” Lois said softly.
“After our last session, we went home and told the kids,” Clark said. “It went really well. I’ve been home for two weeks, and everything is...perfect. We also told my mom and a few close friends. Everyone has been thrilled for us.”
“Well, it seems my work here is done,” Dr. Booker joked.
Lois laughed, surprising everyone, including herself. She wasn’t sure she had ever laughed before in this room. Clark chuckled, more at Lois than at the joke, and pulled their joined hands up to kiss her hand.
“Do you want to talk about last night?” he asked, when their hands were back in her lap.
Lois looked at him, one eyebrow raised.
“Before that,” he said drolly, rolling his eyes. But she could see him flush. “The ball? Art Night?”
She laughed at his embarrassment, but decided to put him out of his misery. She turned to Dr. Booker and began filling her in. “We had a long talk last night. We talked about my desire to hide or ignore the past four years. My desire for the ‘divorce annulment’ I talked about last time.”
“Good. How did that go?”
“Um, it was incredible,” she said, reaching unconsciously to finger the pendant above her heart. “Clark helped me understand how important those years were for us, and how much stronger our relationship is now because we had hard conversations and didn’t sweep things under the rug or rush to reconcile before we were really ready. I still wish it hadn’t taken so long, but I can see how much more precious our relationship is because we took our time fixing it.”
“That’s wonderful,” Dr. Booker said.
“We have our first real public appearance this week, since we’ve officially been back together,” Clark said. “Our kids have an Art Night at their school. The students display art that they’ve made, but local artists are also there exhibiting pieces, and there’s a silent art auction. It’s a big event for the school. All the parents and teachers will be there. And we also decided to attend the Daily Planet’s annual holiday ball for the first time in six years. I think Lois is feeling better about both after our talk last night, but I still think it might be good to...talk about it a little.”
Dr. Booker nodded. “That’s a big step. Not just telling individual people who you love and trust, but opening yourself up to the public at large.
Lois set out a sigh of relief. “Exactly.” She hesitated for a minute. “I don’t think Clark understands exactly why I’m dreading it. It’s not just that I hate being gossiped about.
It’s that I’m afraid the gossip is going to be ugly.”
“It’s not going to be ugly,” he said, his face full of concern. “I’m not going to lie and say people won’t gossip. You know they will. But it’s not going to be ugly.”
“Not for you,” she said skeptically.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Clark,” she sighed. “You just don’t… You are so sweet. And you love me so much. You don’t see me the way other people see me. And you don’t see us the way other people see us.”
“That’s not true,” he said quickly. “I’m not the only one who loves you, Lois. I’m not the only one who wants you to be happy. I know you think everyone sees you as the villain of our story, but that’s just not true, sweetheart.”
“It’s fine,” she said, her gaze falling to their hands twined together in her lap. She took a steadying breath and tried to hold back the tears. “It’s fine. I’m not going to let that ruin this. I want to dance with you at the ball. I want to go to Art Night as a family. I want all of this so much. It’s fine. There’s nothing they can say that I haven’t already said to myself. I know I don’t deserve you. That’s not new information.”
“Honey,” Clark said, his voice tight. “Look at me.”
She dragged her gaze up to his.
“I don’t care at all what other people think, but I care a whole lot about what you think. You know that’s not true, right? Please tell me you know that’s not true.”
Her gaze slid from his, unable to look at him while she lied. “I know,” she said softly. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, Lois,” he said, lifting her chin gently trying to force her to look at him. “It’s not fine. I don’t understand why you aren’t capable of giving yourself the same grace you give me.”
She raised her eyes to his, confused, and he stroked her cheek before taking her hand again. “You keep talking about how you broke this marriage, like it was some sort of unilateral attack. I did this, Lois. You only left because I pushed you to it. I was terrible to you. I broke almost every promise we ever made to each other. I didn’t trust you or listen to you or respect you. I completely lost my mind. I took all my pain and grief out on you. I believed that you would always be there, that you would never stop loving me. And instead of treasuring that, I took it for granted. You were right to leave me. I didn’t deserve you.”
She started to protest, and he put up a hand to stop her, and continued, “But somehow you forgave me. And I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about years ago. You decided at some point that I deserved your forgiveness and you just let it go… You’ve never held it over me. You’ve never thrown it back in my face when we’ve fought. You won’t listen if I try to apologize for that time. Somehow you have managed to completely absolve me. But you can’t give yourself even a fraction of that grace. How can you think you don’t deserve me?”
“You were hurting. You were grieving-”
“So were you!”
“But when you came out of that time of grief, you tried to fix things. I just kept making things worse for years. I love you so much, and I hurt you so badly. And I don’t believe I deserve your love or forgiveness. I know that I have them. And I’m so so thankful for them. We’re here together, and our love is stronger and more precious than ever. I’m so grateful for your love. But that doesn’t mean I deserve it. ”
“Lois,” Clark started, casting around for words. “I don’t even know what to say to that. I don’t know how to make you see how entirely unfair that is.”
They fell silent, and turned to look at Dr. Booker for guidance.
“Lois, it seems like you believe Clark deserves your forgiveness for the things he did that hurt you. But you don’t deserve his forgiveness. Even though you both seem equally remorseful and have both worked very hard to make amends. Why do you think that is?”
Lois shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. I just don’t.”
Clark let out a frustrated sigh, and when she looked back up at him, she saw the pain in his eyes. “I don’t know how to convince you,” he said. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“Clark,” Dr. Booker interrupted. “It’s not your job to convince her of anything. You’ve given her your forgiveness. It’s up to her to accept it.”,
“But she’s… It hurts me to see her like this,” he said softly. Dr. Booker nodded her head toward Lois, and Clark shifted in his seat addressing her directly. “It hurts me to see you like this. It hurts me to hear you say you don’t deserve my forgiveness. That you don’t deserve me. We’ve been through so much. We’ve worked so hard. We deserve to be happy. We deserve each other’s love. I need you to believe that.”
She let go of his hand and reached up to rest her hand on his neck. “I’m trying,” she whispered.
He nodded, then bent his forehead to hers. “I’ll take that for now.”
She took a deep breath and sat up, looking back to Dr. Booker.
“I want you to spend some time thinking about this before our next session,” Dr. Booker said. “Why you think you don’t deserve the same level of forgiveness. How you can move past that.”
Lois nodded.
“Let’s talk for a minute about how to handle the gossip,” the doctor continued. “Any thoughts?”
“Just ignore it,” Lois said, trying not to roll her eyes.
“Well, if you mean not reacting to it publicly, I think that’s for the best. But I was talking about strategies for coping with it internally. Trying not to think about something is generally an ineffective strategy. Try replacing the negative self talk with positives. You’ve said that so far everyone you’ve told has been thrilled for you. You two are very happy. Your children are happy. Your extended family is happy. Your close friends are happy. Focus on that happiness when you suspect others are gossiping. Tell yourself everyone is happy for you. If you suspect someone isn’t happy for you, remind yourself of the positive reactions you’ve gotten so far.”
Lois was skeptical, but nodded in agreement.
There was silence for a minute, while Dr. Booker waited for them to bring up other concerns or issues. When no one spoke, she flipped back through her session notes.
“At our last session, you were very concerned about the issue of marriage,” Dr. Booker prompted. “You were worried your daughter would ask about it and you wouldn’t have a response prepared. Did that come up?”
Lois glanced at Clark, and he nodded at her to go ahead. “Yes, Mattie asked immediately if we were getting remarried. But we just sort of glossed over it, said we hadn’t made any decisions about that yet, and then focused on what we did have sorted out -- that we love each other, that Clark was moving home, that the kids wouldn’t be going back and forth between the two houses anymore.”
“And they were satisfied with that answer?”
Lois looked to Clark again.
“I think so,” he said. “They haven’t brought it up again, as far as I know.”
Lois shook her head in agreement.
“Good. Have the two of you given the question any more thought?”
Lois thought of the rings in her jewelry box -- her desperate desire to wear them, her desperate desire to be his wife again.
“What do you want?” she asked quietly, turning to face Clark.
He looked surprised. “I already told you-”
“You already told me you’ll do whatever I want. That’s not what I asked.”
Clark hesitated.
“I want to know what you want,” she said softly. “Not just what you are willing to do for me. Tell me what you want.”
“I want to be married to you,” he said immediately, reaching out to cup her cheek. “I’ve always wanted to be married to you. I agree with you about not wanting to erase our past. I want to wear the same rings. I want to celebrate our thirteenth anniversary next October. I don’t care if we celebrate both anniversaries or don’t acknowledge the second one at all. I don’t care if we elope alone or plan a small ceremony with the people we love. There are a lot of details I really don’t care about. But I do very much want to marry you again. I would marry you a hundred times, Lois.”
She gazed into his eyes, overwhelmed by his love for her. She exhaled shakily, her gaze falling to his mouth, and then darting quickly to the doctor before back to his eyes.
He laughed softly, and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I don’t think she’ll mind if I kiss you,” he said. Then lowered his mouth to hers tenderly. It was a chaste, brief kiss, but her heart hammered in her chest.
He sat back and smiled at her. “Don’t you know how much I love you?” he teased gently.
“I know,” she said softly. She hesitated, and then continued. “And I want that too. I need some time to figure this out. I’m still struggling with not feeling like I deserve you, and I want to deal with that before we get remarried. I don’t want to marry you feeling like I don’t deserve to be that happy. But I want so badly to be your wife again in every way, including legally.”
He released a shaky breath and she realized just how much he wanted that and how worried he’d been that she didn’t want the same thing.
She glanced at the clock on the wall, hoping their time was up so she could be alone with him, and saw they still had ten minutes. She looked back at him, unable to find any more words.
“I know,” he whispered, stroking her cheek.
“Why don’t we call it a day,” Dr. Booker said softly. “I think we covered a lot of ground today. When you come back in two weeks, I want to hear how the social event went. And I want to talk more about self forgiveness.”
They nodded eagerly and thanked her for her time, then hurried out the door.
When they were out of the waiting room, in the quiet hallway of the office building, Clark reached for her and held her tight. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, her breathing still shaky.
“I know you need to get back to the paper,” he said quietly. “I know we said we don’t have time for lunch today. But, Lois, I need a few minutes with you somewhere private. Please. Come with me,” he said, glancing up at the ceiling, and she knew he meant above the clouds.
“Yes. Of course, yes,” she said.
He took her hand and led her to the stairwell, tugging her gently inside. He stopped on the landing and rested a hand on her hip, lowering his glasses with the other hand and studying their surroundings.
“Come here,” he said softly, tightening his hold around her waist. “Hold on, I’m going to go fast.”
She wrapped her arms back around his neck and pressed her forehead into the crook of his neck. He rocketed up the stairwell, and she gasped. He stopped at the top floor, at a door she assumed led to the roof.
He released her, then stepped back and spun into the suit. He reached for the door knob and twisted, and Lois heard the snap of the locking mechanism and raised her eyebrows.
“Superman does not damage private property,” she chastised with a grin.
“Superman can fix it later. Clark Kent needs a minute with his wife.” His voice was low and intense, not a shred of a joke to be found, and it sent a small shiver down her spine.
She reached for him, and he kissed her quickly, then stood tall and wrapped his cape around her, holding her tight to his chest with one arm and reaching for the door with the other. They were in the middle of downtown in the middle of the day, and she knew he was trying to avoid any sightings of Superman flying with an unidentified woman.
He squeezed her once, and then shot through the door and into the sky. After just a few seconds, he slowed to a stop and loosened his grip, sliding his hands to either side of her waist and letting the cape fall around her shoulders.
They were above the cloud line, nothing but white visible beneath them.
She lifted her face immediately, sliding her hands up into his hair and pulling him to her. The kiss was explosive, desperate and needy, and she whimpered as his lips crushed against hers again and again, and his tongue swept possessively through her mouth.
She pulled back finally, chest heaving, and he rested his forehead against hers. His arms slid around her waist, holding her close. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes.
“I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait for you as long as you need.”
“Oh, Clark,” she whispered, her words caught in her throat.
“It was worth the wait the first time. And it will be worth it this time too.”
“I love you so much,” she whispered.
“I know, honey. I love you, too,” he said, resting his forehead against hers.
She leaned back and tilted her face up for a kiss, and he smiled at her with so much love she could feel it radiating around them. Then his lips touched hers, and all she could think was how much she loved him and how good he made her feel.
They floated aimlessly, wrapped in each other’s arms, trading kisses and caresses as time in the world below them ticked along. Finally he sighed and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I should take you back. I know you need to get back to work.”
She laughed softly. “I don’t know how I can possibly focus on work today.”
“I know,” he said with a laugh. “I have two classes to teach and a department meeting. There’s no way I’m going to be coherent in any of them.”
She toyed with his hair and gazed at him adoringly.
“I can’t take you back when you look at me like that,” he whispered. “I can’t.”
“Five more minutes,” she said, her hands sliding to his neck and pulling him down for another kiss.
****
“Race you!” Mattie said to JP as she opened the door from the stairwell and stepped out into the hallway.
“No running,” Lois said immediately. “People are working.
“Aww, Mom,” she whined. “Daddy lets us. We’ll be quiet.”
And then they both took off down the hall, skidding to a stop at the door to Clark’s office. Lois walked quickly after them, rolling her eyes. By the time she entered his office, Mattie had the bottom drawer of the desk open and was rummaging around.
“Can we have granola bars?” She asked, holding up the box. “They’re for us.”
Lois nodded, and smiled at their obvious familiarity. Mattie withdrew two granola bars and tossed one to JP, then returned the box and closed the drawer. They settled into the two chairs opposite Clark’s desk, and Lois sank into Clark’s chair, pulling out her phone to check fruitlessly for any messages from her editor about the draft of the article she’d sent him before leaving to pick up the kids.
“Can I get my ears pierced?” Mattie asked.
“What?” Lois responded, caught off guard.
“Abby got her ears pierced for her birthday and Hannah’s had hers pierced since she was a baby.”
Lois set her phone down on the desk as her mind spun suddenly with a host of questions she had never imagined contemplating: Was it still possible to pierce Mattie’s ears? If so, what would happen when her invulnerability kicked in fully? Would the holes close up, or would they stay functional, having already healed? How would they know if it was possible until they tried? What if the piercing needle broke when they tried to do it?
“Please?” Mattie begged. “I can take care of them myself. Abby says it’s not hard.”
“I don’t know, Mattie,” Lois said slowly.
“Come on, Mom! I’m not a baby. It could be a Christmas present!” she pleaded.
“I’m not saying no,” Lois said. “I’m perfectly happy to take you and have your ears pierced if that’s what you want. I just think there might be…some aspects that we need to discuss. With your dad. At home,” she added pointedly.
Mattie’s eyes widened and Lois could see that she understood what Lois was referring to, even if she didn’t understand all the implications. She nodded, and Lois smiled at her encouragingly. “We’ll figure something out. If you want earrings, we’ll find a way.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Mattie said, gracing her with a big smile.
There was a tentative knock at the door, and Lois looked up and saw Morgan in the doorway.
“Hi, Morgan,” she said warmly.
“Hi! I didn’t know you’d be here. I was just going to slide this under the door for Dr. Kent. It’s the recommendation form for that internship program you sent me.”
Lois waved her in and reached for the stack of papers. “Oh, good. I’ll give it to him. Did you get the application completed?”
“Yeah,” she said tentatively. “I want to give the essay another polish, but I think it’s close. And I need to decide which two articles to submit.”
“Which ones are you considering? The dining hall investigation and something else?”
Morgan nodded.
“Do you have a feature article? A profile or something? To balance the investigative piece?”
“Do you have a minute?” Morgan asked tentatively. “I have a few options with me. You could look at them?”
“Sure,” Lois said. She nodded to the empty chair JP had vacated in order to spread out on the floor with some blank paper and crayons he had pulled from his backpack. “Pull up a chair. Let me see.”
Morgan dragged over the chair and pulled a portfolio out of her backpack. Lois flipped through quickly, and then went back to look more closely through a few of the options.
Lois was halfway through an article when she heard voices down the hallway, and then heard a familiar laugh. A slow smile spread across her face. “I hear Daddy,” she said in a singsong voice.
“Daddy!” Mattie and JP chorused, leaping to their feet and dashing out of the room. Lois smiled to herself as she listened to them running down the hall calling for their father, followed by Clark’s “oof!” which could only be the sound of JP launching himself into Clark’s arms.
“I like this one,” Lois said to Morgan, tapping a finger on the one she was reading. “But you should really ask Clark. These types of articles are more his wheelhouse than mine.”
“That’s okay,” she said quickly. “If you say-”
“Don't make the mistake of discounting Clark’s advice,” Lois said softly. “He’s the best writer I know. I ask for his advice and his edits all the time. I wouldn’t be the writer I am today if we hadn’t been partnered for so long.”
Morgan nodded solemnly, and Lois’ eyes slid past her to the doorway, where Clark had suddenly appeared.
“There you are. I see you’ve made yourself at home,” he teased, looking pointedly at his desk and nodding a greeting to his student.
She laughed. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“What’s mine is yours, love,” he said softly, walking to the desk and bending to kiss her cheek. Her heart skipped a beat, and she reached up and stroked his cheek.
“Thanks for getting the kids,” he said finally, stepping back and leaning against his desk.
“Where did they go?” she asked, realizing they hadn’t reappeared.
“Vending machines.”
She rolled her eyes. “Clark, they already ate granola bars from your desk. It’s almost dinner time.”
“They were starving. Wasting away. Absolutely famished,” he teased.
“Mmhmm,” she said skeptically. “I was just looking through these samples of Morgan’s writing for the internship application. She brought you the recommendation form.” She waved a hand at the forms on the desk.
“Great,” he said, reaching for the papers. He turned to Morgan. “Come see me during office hours on Wednesday, and I’ll have these ready for you.”
“Thanks!” She reached for her portfolio. “And you can help me decide which articles to submit?”
Clark nodded and reached over to squeeze Lois’ hand, and she knew he had heard her advice to Morgan.
“Awesome. Thanks! I’ll see you then. Thanks again, Ms. Lane!” Morgan said, backing out of the office with a smile.
“Now, Ms. Lane,” Clark said with a smile, once she was gone, “where were we?”
He bent his head down and captured her lips in a sweet kiss, eliciting a happy sigh. She slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, stroking his cheeks, his neck, his hair.
“This is dangerous if there’s any hope of me making it back to work,” she teased, kissing him again.
“Five more minutes,” he pleaded, and she laughed knowing full well that five more minutes had turned into far more than that earlier.
There was a sudden knock at the door, and they pulled apart guiltily. “Well, I can only assume this is Lois,” said a short haired woman in a fitted pantsuit and converse, a smirk on her face.
Clark laughed and stood, resting a hand on Lois’ shoulder. “Melissa, this is Lois. Lois, Melissa.”
“Ah, yes,” Lois said. “Liam’s mom. Liam of the famous diggers.”
“Indeed,” Melissa said with a smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Lois’ mind went back to the week of the diggers and cringed. “That’s a little terrifying.”
Melissa laughed. “All good, I assure you.”
“Is your wife still back in Portland? Or did she get moved out here?” Lois asked, trying not to blush as she remembered her original assumption when JP told her Liam didn’t have a daddy
“She got here last week. She drove the whole way. Apparently it was quite the adventure. She stopped at a bunch of roadside attractions along the way. She starts her new job after Thanksgiving. In the meantime, hopefully we can get the rest of the unpacking done.”
“Well, once you are settled, you should come to our house for dinner one night. We’d love to meet her, and I’m sure JP would love to play with Liam again.”
Clark squeezed her shoulder, and she knew he was savoring the way that “we” and “our house” sounded too. After all this time, it was so nice to casually invite someone to their home.
“We’d love that,” Melissa replied.
Last edited by AnnieM; 12/10/21 10:10 AM.
