Lois woke up before her alarm in the morning, thanks at least in part to the time difference, though she imagined her nervous excitement was also at least partially responsible. She laid in bed for a minute, stretching under the heavy warmth of the beautiful quilt she was sure was handmade.
She could hear movement downstairs and she realized Clark was already awake. Her hand went to her mouth automatically, reliving their kisses last night.
Reluctantly, she climbed out of bed, cringing at the cool morning air. She reached for her open suitcase, retrieving an oversized dark blue sweatshirt. She went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth quickly, then padded down the stairs, stopping in her tracks at the bottom when she realized he was doing pushups on the living room rug. She watched as the muscles of his back and arms rippled, unable to tear her eyes away.
He stopped as soon as he caught sight of her, shifting to sit instead. He smiled at her and raised his eyebrows.
“What?” she said.
“Nothing,” he replied, still smiling.
“What?” she insisted, looking around to see if she could find the source of his amusement.
“Nothing,” he insisted. “Well, you look…pretty decent first thing in the morning.”
She flushed, suddenly shy. “So do you,” she said, eyes lingering again on his arms, and then returning to that heartbreaking smile.
They smiled at each other for a minute, the growing silence becoming awkward.
“I made coffee,” he said finally, gesturing toward the kitchen.
“Good,” she said, overly enthusiastic. “That’s a good thing.”
She walked past him and made her way into the kitchen, smiling when she saw he had placed two mugs in front of the coffee maker along with a sugar bowl and an unopened box of the sugar substitute she preferred.
“There’s milk and cream in the fridge,” he said from the doorway.
“Thank you,” she said, holding up the box.
He shrugged, but she could see the smile playing at the corners of his mouth. She held out a hand to him, and he came immediately to her side.
She reached up and kissed his cheek, and he laughed softly. “It’s just sugar.”
It wasn’t though. Just sugar. It was the way he noticed the little things about her. The quiet way he made her feel at home.
She stroked his cheek and then turned and made her coffee. She leaned against the counter sipping her coffee while he made his own. They drank their coffee in peace for a few minutes, then she darted a glance at the oven clock.
“I should go get dressed,” she said.
She disappeared upstairs, showering quickly and dressing in a fitted light brown v-neck sweater with short sleeves and deep chocolate brown jeans that hugged every curve. She added brown ankle boots and delicate gold necklace, then blow dried her hair and added make up.
She was done with five minutes to spare, and she found Clark in his office gathering his papers and books. He was wearing gray dress pants and a light blue shirt with a surprisingly hideous tie, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“Almost ready?” she asked quietly.
He looked up suddenly, and the stunned look on his face said more than any flowery compliment could.
“I’m ready,” he said.
They chatted about their plans for the day as Clark drove the five miles to the school. It was a straight shot — just one turn, at the only traffic light they passed— and Lois was relieved she wouldn’t have to retrace a complicated route without him.
“This is the high school,” Clark said, as he pulled into the first of two parking lots, and pulled up to one of two buildings connected by a short side walk. Both were nondescript, single story buildings with rows of identical square windows. “The other building is the middle school. I’ll give you a tour when you pick me up.”
He pulled to a stop in front of the building. “School lets out at three. You’re going to want to give it a half hour or so, so you don’t get stuck dealing with the buses and traffic. When you get here, just go to the front office. Mrs. Harper will point you to my classroom.”
Clark left the truck running, but opened the door and stepped out. She did the same, walking around the truck to meet him. He slid a hand around her waist, stroking her back through the soft cashmere of her sweater. She knew they were standing in front of his work, and she could see cars starting to trickle into the parking lot, but she was dying for him to kiss her one more time before she left.
He lifted his other hand and stroked her cheek. He looked over her shoulder and nodded, and she knew he was greeting a colleague.
“I should go,” she said softly. “Let you get to work.”
He nodded slowly, and started to pull away, then laughed helplessly, and tightened his grip around her waist before dipping his head to kiss her softly.
“Go,” he said. “Before Lana shows up and murders me for not telling her you were coming.”
“You didn’t tell Lana?” she said, genuinely shocked.
“It didn’t come up,” he said, grinning. He kissed her forehead, then dropped his hands and stepped back.
“She’s going murder you. I’m not going to defend you. I want it on the record that I thought she knew.”
Clark laughed as he walked toward the school. “I’ll be sure to attest to your innocence.”
She climbed back in his truck, adjusted the seat, and drove back to Clark’s.
Alone in his house, she tried to read for a while, then abandoned her book in favor of LNN. Nothing exciting seemed to be happening in the world, and the anchors were busy reporting on rumors of a new round of peace talks in the Middle East.
She wandered his living room, picking up and studying the various knick knacks that were scattered around. Eventually she found herself in his office, perusing the wall of built in shelves behind his desk.
There were hundreds of books, everything from novels to memoirs to poetry interspersed with yet more mementos of his travels. She found a whole shelf of books in foreign languages, and she remembered him saying he was “really only fluent in a handful” and wondered how truthful that had been, given the breadth of his collection.
On the bottom shelf, dozens of matching leather bound books stood in a row. No titles were visible, and she pulled on to look at it more closely. The front was blank too, and as soon as she flipped it open, she realized it was a journal. Another glance told her it was a travel journal, this one covering his time in the Amazon.
Before she realized it, she had read both pages she had opened to, soaking in his colorful description of the flora. She reached automatically to turn the page and then stopped. He had told her yesterday that she was free to poke in all his closets and drawers, but reading his journals seemed a step too far.
She closed the book and put it back before she could give into temptation. She glanced at the clock, and saw it was only ten. The day stretched out before her endlessly. Her eyes were drawn back to the shelf of journals. She had five hours before she had to go get Clark. How many could she read in that time?
She left his office and walked through the kitchen. She considered another cup of coffee, but it had gone cold. She was restless, and she smiled at Clark’s offer to leave her his truck so she wouldn’t feel trapped. He knew her better than she realized.
She didn’t need the truck though to get out of the house. It was only a few blocks to downtown, and she decided to go explore the little shops that had been closed the night before.
Clark’s neighbor — Mrs. Murphy, she remembered suddenly — was sitting on her porch when Lois strolled past. Lois waved and laughed at herself silently, slipping so quickly into small town life.
The square was already humming with activity. Everywhere she looked, displays and booths were being set up, groups of volunteers working to get everything in place.
She browsed the little boutiques, not finding anything she wanted to buy, until a floral dress at the last store caught her eyes. It was long and flowy and more sweetly feminine than what she normally wore, and when she tried it on, she felt like she belonged on a prairie. The shopkeeper, a sweet woman old enough to be her mother, fussed over her when she emerged from the little dressing area, and she seemed so genuinely pleased that Lois couldn’t believe it was just a ploy to make a sale.
The little bookstore yielded another score, a paperback bestseller she had been meaning to pick up for ages. By the time she finished, it was lunchtime, and she decided to grab a sandwich at Maisie’s even though she knew Clark had been sure to leave food options for her.
Maisie greeted her enthusiastically, introducing her as “Clark’s girl” to a grandfatherly man sitting at the bar who seemed utterly uninterested. She assured Maisie that she didn’t want to sit at the bar and preferred a quiet table in a corner where she could read her book, and Maisie brought her a turkey club and fries and then faded into the background.
After lunch, she strolled around the square, watching the festival crew work on their finishing touches. Then she walked back to Clark’s where she sat on the front porch swing for a while reading her new book and enjoying the beautiful fall weather.
A part of her felt guilty for missing work and wondered if she should check in there. She had brought her laptop and could work remotely if she was needed. But the thought seemed almost perfunctory. She had no desire to leave her spot on the porch swing and make that phone call.
As three o’clock approached, she started to get antsy and eager to see him again. The last hour crawled by, and finally she went inside and touched up her makeup, brushed her teeth, and puttered around trying to find some last minute things to do.
When she arrived at the school, the parking lot was mostly deserted. She parked in the front row and made her way into the building, stopping at the front office like Clark had instructed.
A small woman with gray hair piled on top of her head and a welcoming smile greeted her immediately.
“How can I help you, sweetie?”
Lois smiled at the endearment. At home in Metropolis, she would assume it was passive aggressive. But in Smallville everyone seemed to be “sweetie” or “dear” or “honey”.
“I’m looking for Clark Kent. He’s-”
“Oh! You must be Clark’s girl!” the woman said, interrupting her. “Well, I’m just so excited to meet you. You come on in. I’m Peggy Harper. You just let me know if you need anything. I’ve been working here at Smallville High for years — long before Clark was a student here, let alone a teacher. Clark’s room is right down the main hall. Just past the water fountain turn right, and his room is halfway up that hallway on the left. Room 206.”
Lois nodded, her brain trying to retain the directions while also processing being called “Clark’s girl” for the second time that day. She wanted to correct the woman — felt she should correct her for the sake of accuracy — but she didn’t know what to say. Certainly they weren’t just friends. Their relationship lay somewhere in the middle, undefined.
“Thank you,” she said instead, and followed her directions down the hall, past the water fountain, and down the second hall.
She paused in the doorway of his room, but before she could knock or say anything, he looked up, as if he had sensed her there. His smile knocked the wind from her chest. He stood and held out an arm, beckoning her in. She went to him immediately, and he wrapped her in a hug.
“How was your day? Did you find something to keep you busy?” he asked when they stepped apart, his hand still on her hip.
“I had a great day,” she said honestly. “I walked downtown, did some shopping, had lunch at Maisie’s, read my new book on your porch swing…. It was perfect. Except…I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” he said, bending his head to kiss her.
“It is true!” a voice exclaimed, startling them apart. “I swear to god, I will murder you with my bare hands.”
Lois’ back was to the door, but she had zero doubt about who was standing in the doorway. She turned to face the fuming woman, already laughing.
“Lana, I-” Clark started, but he didn’t get far.
“Lois is here, and I had to hear about it from Marcy Wallace? I looked like a total idiot. She was all ‘I hear Clark’s got a girl in town for the Corn Festival’ and I was all, ‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’ Apparently she heard from Mrs. Harper whose husband heard it from Maisie? You’ve got the whole Smallville gossip mill turning, and you didn’t think to tell me first?”
“Hi, Lana,” Clark said, gesturing with his free hand to Lois. “Lois is in town.”
Lana glared at him and turned to Lois. “Hey! It’s so good to see you,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m only mad at that dumbass. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Lois laughed again. “For the record, I thought you knew.”
“Of course you did. Because anyone with half a brain would assume Clark would have shared such wonderful news with his very best friend. Only a complete idiot would forget to mention-” Lana broke off suddenly, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Speaking of being a complete idiot, has Clark ever told you about the time-”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Clark said hastily, holding up a hand to stop whatever story Lana was about to spill. “That’s not necessary!”
“Is it not?”
“We’re having dinner at the festival tonight. You want to join us?” Clark asked, suddenly contrite.
“We would love to,” Lana said with a satisfied smile. “I have to go. Pete’s coming home early tonight. We’re working the 4:30 shift at the Cloverbud booth. They’re selling popcorn for a fundraiser.”
“Cloverbud?” Lois asked.
Clark smiled at her affectionately. “It’s the junior version of 4H.”
“4:30. Popcorn,” Lana repeated meaningfully.
“We’ll be there,” Clark said, raising his hand in surrender. “We’ll buy lots of popcorn. Would I disappoint my goddaughter?”
“Good,” Lana said, turning on her heel and leaving.
Once she was out of sight, Lois turned to Clark and laughed. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell her. She’s not going to let you off easy.”
“She’ll live,” Clark replied, sliding his hand from her hip to the small of her back and grabbing his bag from his chair. “Come on, let me give you that tour.”
They wandered the halls leisurely, and Clark pointed out the library, the cafeteria, and the classrooms of friends he mentioned regularly. As they made their way through the main lobby of the building on their way to the gym to see his office, Lois passed the display cases with trophies and did a double take.
“Are these your trophies?” she asked, coming to a sudden stop.
“Well, they aren’t MINE,” he replied. “There are a few from when I played.”
She zeroed in on the biggest trophy, front and center in the display case, a large wooden trophy with a “State Champions” plaque at the top and a football emblazoned in the middle of an outline of the state of Kansas. She glanced at the year engraved on the bottom, and smiled when her suspicion was confirmed.
She looked at him with raised eyebrows, and he rolled his eyes.
“It’s not my trophy,” he reiterated. “It’s the team’s trophy.”
“Mmhmm,” she agreed. “You were just the team captain and quarterback.”
“Exactly,” he said with a smile, pressing gently on her back to steer her away from the trophies. “There’s no I in team, Lois.”
She laughed, and they walked through the gym and up the stairs to the locker rooms and offices, passing a weight room on the way. A group of boys was exiting as they passed, and they all greeted Clark, calling him Coach and bragging about new personal bests.
All of the boys eyed her curiously, but one looked familiar, and after a minute she recognized him as one of Clark’s students from the conference the previous Spring. She nodded to him and smiled.
“Hey, Ms. Lane,” he said with a grin. “You in town for the Corn Festival?”
She nodded, and he looked back and forth between her and Clark, his grin widening.
“All right,” Clark said. “Get out of here. Have fun this weekend. Show up Monday ready to work.”
They took off, calling “yes, sir!” and “okay, Coach!” as they disappeared down the stairs.
In his office, Clark spread his arms and smiled. “This is it,” he said. “Not much to see.”
The office was undecorated, but his desktop was tidy, empty aside from a stack of VHS tapes. A couple chairs sat opposite his desk, a rolling cart with a TV and VCR in the corner. He gestured to the door at the other end of his office. “That leads to the locker room,” he said.
They lingered for a bit, then wandered back downstairs and outside. He walked her around the building so she could see the football stadium, and then they made their way to the parking lot to his truck.
By the time they made it to his house and dropped off the truck, it was 4:30.
“We better hurry if you don’t want to risk incurring further wrath from Lana,” she teased, as Clark took her hand and led her toward the square. Around them, the sidewalks were noticeably busier than they had been earlier, as families made their own ways toward the festival.
“I hope you like popcorn,” he said. “I may have to purchase a lifetime supply to buy my way out of the doghouse.”
“Lucky for you, I love popcorn.”
The crowd thickened as they got closer to the square, and she could see that it had been transformed into a corn wonderland. Dried stalks of corn adorned every booth, and signs offered corn-themed snacks in every direction.
They made their way toward the popcorn sign adorned with four-leaf clovers and Lois could see Lana behind the booth with three girls. The little blonde looked so much like her mother that Lois had no doubt which one was Sophie. Sure enough, a moment later Lana spotted them and touched her daughter on the shoulder to get her attention before pointing in their direction.
“Uncle Clark!” she screeched, ditching her work assignment and bolting around the table, taking a flying leap into his arms. Clark swept her up, tossing her into the air and catching her in a hug.
Lois couldn’t help but smile at the picture they made.
Sophie was chattering full tilt about the popcorn booth, and Clark was obviously half listening while turning his attention to Lois.
“Does every woman in your life literally fly into your arms when they see you?” she teased, thinking about how similar Sophie’s greeting was to her own when he surprised her at work over the summer.
“Only the really special ones,” he said, shifting Sophie to one arm and tucking Lois’s hair behind her ear with the other.
She felt herself flush as her heart fluttered at his smile, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lana’s jaw drop.
“Hey, Soph,” he said. “Take a break for just a sec. I want to introduce you to someone. This is my friend, Lois. She came all the way from Metropolis for the Corn Festival.”
“Hi!” she said brightly before immediately resuming her sales pitch. “And all the money is going to go to the animals at the animal shelter! We’re going to buy them food and blankets and toys!”
Clark set her on the ground with a smile. “That’s awesome, Sophie. We’ll buy lots of popcorn, okay? Why don’t you start with two large ones, and then we’ll buy some to take home later?”
She let out a cheer and took off, back around the table, climbing up on a stool to fill the bags from the old fashioned movie theater popcorn popper.
Clark turned and grinned at Lois. “So…that’s Sophie. I’d say she’s a bit wound up because of the festival, but the truth is she’s pretty much always like this.”
Lois smiled, utterly charmed seeing him in his role as beloved uncle.
The popcorn booth was doing a booming business, so once they paid and accepted their snacks, they moved on, promising to see Sophie again at dinner time.
They wandered through the square, eating popcorn and browsing educational displays about the lifecycle and history of corn assembled by local elementary students and booths full of wares from local businesses.
One side of the square was set up with a children’s area, with a bounce house, a variety of child-friendly carnival games, and a craft area where kids could make a corn cob sailboat or corn husk doll.
On the stage, a band was setting up to play, and Clark pointed out the drummer, identifying him as David, the middle of Lana’s three brothers.
“You ready to see the Corn-o-Rama?” Clark asked as they approached a large art display of some sort.
Lois squinted, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. They stepped inside the three-walled structure, and she saw the walls covered in six foot squares, each with a small placard underneath identifying the artist. The pieces were individual murals, she realized, constructed entirely from kernels of corn.
“This is…I’ve never seen anything like this,” Lois said diplomatically
Clark burst into laughter. “There’s a different theme every year,” he said, gesturing to a large sign in the center of the booth that boasted, “Smallville: Homegrown”. On closer inspection she saw that many of the murals appeared to show fields of corn or wheat, or in one case, a large single stalk of corn.
“It’s…very creative. I didn’t even know corn came in so many colors.”
They wandered the display and Clark pointed out his mother’s contribution along with a piece from Marcy Wallace, the high school art teacher whose gossip had incensed Lana earlier.
They passed a trash can and tossed the rest of the popcorn, and Lois smiled as Clark reached for her now-free hand. She squeezed his hand gently and rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb, and he smiled down at her. She smiled back, wanting to say something but unable to find the words.
“Clark!” a voice called, bringing them both back to reality.
Lois looked over and saw a man about their age with a young boy on his shoulders. Beside him, a woman who could only be his wife stood holding a baby girl on her hip. Her gaze flicked automatically to their joined hands, and she smiled.
“Hey!” Clark said, tugging Lois over to join them. “Lois, this is Tim Bryant. We went to school together and now he’s the Math teacher at Smallville High. And this is his wife, Becky. She’s a teacher at the elementary school.”
“Third grade,” Becky confirmed.
Tim stepped forward and offered his hand. Lois smiled, and refrained from mentioning that she remembered him as the friend who drank too much on his birthday and had to be driven home.
She dropped Clark’s hand and stepped forward to shake Tim’s hand.
“You are real,” Tim said, a teasing glint in his eye. “I was beginning to wonder.”
“Really?” Clark said from behind her, obviously embarrassed. He rested his hands on her arms, just below her sleeves, rubbing gently.
Lois glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him, and he shrugged. She turned her attention back to Tim and Becky, leaning back against Clark, her smile widening when he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“You met Clark at the journalism conference, right?” Becky asked, shifting the baby from one hip to the other.
Lois nodded. “That’s right. Last spring.”
“Are you a teacher too? In Metropolis?”
“Oh, no,” Lois said, caught off guard. “I’m a reporter.”
“Lois works at the Daily Planet,” Clark said. “She was one of the speakers at the conference.”
“Oh wow,” Becky said, clearly a little surprised. Lois wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but she looked almost wary, as if she was unsure why a big city reporter was here in their small town. “That must be an exciting job.”
“It can be,” Lois said cautiously, trying to steer the conversation back somewhere more comfortable. “Sometimes it’s a lot of boring phone calls and research. Did you grow up here in Smallville with Tim and Clark?”
“No,” she said immediately, smiling again. “I grew up in Harrisburg. It’s about an hour from here. Tim and I met in college.”
They chatted for a while longer before the kids got restless and Tim and Becky headed off to the kids area.
They made their way back across the square, heading for the booths selling food, where they were supposed to meet his parents shortly, and her stomach fluttered with nerves. She reached for his arm, wrapping both hands around it. He glanced over smiling happily, and then his eyes narrowed.
“Are you nervous?” he asked, surprised.
“Who, me?” she joked. “Nervous? No way.”
“Lois,” he said, stopping and turning to face her.
“Terrified,” she admitted. “What if they hate me?”
He laughed and cupped her cheek with his free hand. “They are going to love you. You don’t need to be nervous, I promise. My mom is so excited. Seriously, I can’t even tell you how excited. You might as well be royalty coming to visit.”
She laughed, her nerves soothed a little. She let her hands slide down his arm, holding his hand instead, and they continued walking.
“What do you think so far?” he asked. “Is it everything you dreamed of? Small town life? The Corn Festival?”
“It exceeds all my expectations,” she teased.
“I know it’s so normal it’s boring,” he said. “But it’s home.”
“Oh, I don’t know about boring,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve heard all about these small towns. Skeletons in every closet.”
“Oh yeah?” he said. “Do tell.”
They had reached the folding tables and chairs where they were supposed to meet his parents now, and they stopped by a table. She cast around, looking over the women working the cash box at the barbeque booth, the men flipping hamburgers and hotdogs on the grill.
“Sure, I mean ... the woman taking money at the counter probably takes a detour to see her secret lover every time she has to take a deposit to the bank." She grinned and nodded to their left. "And the grandma buying ice cream probably worked in a dance hall when she was our age, showing the troops a good time before they shipped out."
She laughed, getting into her story. "And see Mr. Regular Joe over there flipping burgers? Betcha he's a cross dresser!"
“Really?” Clark raised his eyebrows, a grin spreading across his face.
“Clark! Clark!” a woman’s voice interrupted them, and Lois turned to see a small blonde woman approaching rapidly.
“Mom!” Clark said, stepping forward and hugging her.
She turned to face Lois as soon as Clark released her, smiling and reaching for her, pulling her into a hug as well.
“You must be Lois,” she said as they pulled apart, and Lois couldn’t help but smile.
“That’s me,” she said, trying to squash the residual nerves. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Kent.”
“Martha, please!” she said, smiling widely. Her greeting was warm and genuine, and Lois felt herself relaxing.
“You sure are pretty. It’s all right if I tell her that, isn’t it, Clark?” Martha asked, turning to Clark as if for permission.
“I don’t know, Mom. Ask Lois,” he replied, winking at her. Lois blushed and rolled her eyes at him, and he closed the distance between them, resting his hand on the small of her back the way that she loved so much.
“Thanks, Martha,” she said, and she watched as Martha took in the picture they made, standing there together, her face almost giddy with happiness.
“You kids must be hungry,” she said. “Let’s get you something to eat over at the barbeque.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Mom,” Clark said suddenly, raising a hand to stop her, his face serious. “Lois thinks the cook might be a crossdresser.”
There was a moment of silence between them, and Lois opened her mouth to protest, to explain to Martha that it was just a joke, to chide Clark for teasing her. And then Martha began to laugh.
“Oh, honey. That’s Clark’s father. I can’t get him to buy a dress for me, let alone himself.”
Lois wheeled on Clark, mouth agape. He burst out laughing, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss him or strangle him. She settled instead for burying her face in his chest.
“I’m going to murder you,” she muttered, and he laughed harder, his chest rumbling beneath her cheek.
He stroked her hair sweetly, and she pulled back just far enough to look up at him. “Seriously?” she chided.
“I couldn’t help it,” he said, laughing harder again. “It was too perfect.”
Lois turned to face Martha, not sure what she was expecting. Confusion. Annoyance. But Martha looked for a second as if she might cry before wiping that expression from her face and smiling at Lois tenderly.
“It was a joke,” she said unnecessarily. “And I’m pretty sure I was set up.”
Martha laughed. “I don’t doubt that for a minute.”
Clark went to order food and collect his father, leaving Lois alone at the table with Martha. She took a deep breath as they sat, trying to decide what to say, but Martha beat her to the punch.
She leaned forward and reached across the table resting a hand on Lois’ forearm. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, smiling warmly. “Clark has told us so much about you. We’ve been dying to meet you.”
Lois smiled, her eyes flicking over to where Clark was waiting in line at the booth, talking animatedly with his father, and lingered on his face.
“I’m so glad to be here,” she replied, forcing her gaze back to Martha.
“I think Clark was a little worried that you’d be bored,” she said, letting the unspoken question stretch between them.
Lois smiled, her gaze drifting back to him again.
“Clark worries too much,” she said with a smile.
Martha laughed, and Lois felt as if she had just passed a test she didn’t know she was taking.
Clark looked over at her just then, catching her staring, and smiled at her.
She tore her eyes from him, trying again to focus on his mother.
“I heard,” she said softly, as if to impart some particularly scandalous gossip, “that you aren’t entering the cornbread bake-off this year.”
Martha burst out laughing. “I see you’ve been talking to Maisie. It’s true, shocking as it may be. I just didn’t have time this year. I was busy working on my piece for the corn-o-rama. Plus I’ve been helping Susan out with the little ones.”
“Susan is Lana’s sister-in-law? They live next door to you?” Lois asked, and Martha nodded and smiled.
“Did Clark tell you she just had a baby?”
“A few weeks ago, right? A girl?”
Martha nodded again. “She has four older kids, so it’s been a lot on her plate. I’ve been trying to help out. Give her some breaks.”
“Give who some breaks?” Clark asked, placing a hotdog, a bag of chips, and a Diet Coke in front of Lois.
Lois smiled up at him over her shoulder and mouthed, “thank you.”
He kissed her cheek, and slid into the chair next to her, placing his own food in front of him.
“Give who some breaks?” Clark repeated, and Martha shook herself slightly as if to clear her head.
“Susan,” she answered. “I was just telling Lois that’s why I didn’t enter the cornbread bake-off.”
Clark snorted out a laugh, obviously remembering her reaction to the scandalous news last night, and Lois snickered.
Across the table, Jonathan was handing Martha a plate of food and sitting down beside her. Clark introduced them quickly, and Lois felt a twist of nerves as she wondered what to say next.
Then Clark raised his hand suddenly, flagging someone over, and she looked up to see Lana approaching with her family.
Lois looked around, taking in the whole scene — Clark and his family and his town and his ridiculous corn festival, and she had to stifle a laugh. Not a mocking laugh, but a truly and completely overwhelmed-with-joy laugh.
She had known when she made her plans to come that she would be happy to spend time with Clark, no matter what they were doing. But she never could have predicted just how happy everything else would make her.
