As I said in the other mb, I have been gone, unintentionally, for so long, I feel like this is all new to me
!
I hope i haven't been forgotten, and, like I said, I hope I haven't copied anyone. Please let me know what you think.
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Inheritance
Begun Jan 02
The Future
The little man waited for the time machine to stop whirring before stepping out, then looked over his shoulder to watch as the portal sealed itself. Satisfied that he’d come through safely, he removed a small device from his coat pocket, checked the date on its readout, and then replaced the device. He then adjusted his hat, straightened his tie, and started off toward his destination. As he walked down the busy streets of the bustling, prosperous city, he took in his surroundings, very much admiring the view. He took a small amount of pride in what he saw, knowing that he had had a minor part in its creation.
He walked down Forty-second Street, now renamed White Avenue, in the more business-oriented part of town, and while shopping malls, restaurants, movie theaters, and offices stretched for several blocks, the city he had grown to love during his travels was more beautiful than the first time he’d seen it. In fact, with the aesthetic and environmental improvements made over the years, it was almost…perfect. Because of extended landscaping efforts, like the planting of several rows of tall, leafy trees planted on either side of the street, the air was clean and smog free. Also, in addition to the flora, the means by which people traveled had also changed, Herb noticed. He smiled pleasantly and touched his fingers to his hat as he passed a couple and their small child, who in turn gave him a friendly nod as they got out of a solar-powered taxi, one of several dozen humming up and down the busy city street. A few blocks later, he found himself in front of Metropolis’s celebrated movie theater, which was once threatened by a developer’s wrecking ball. Now it was an historical landmark, thanks in part to the efforts of a young man who had recognized its value. Looking up at the marquee, the time traveler was pleased, and a bit amused to notice that the old theater now regularly featured classic Elvis movies.
After a few minutes the clean, but crowded city streets became the residential part of town. Taxicabs were replaced by children on bicycles. What once were dirty alleys were now gardens and recycling centers. Even the street names, he noted, were dignified; Wheatley Ave., Stoneridge Pl., Reeve Ct., Bierdon St., and finally, Hyperion Ave. The street numbers started at 340, so he quickened his step, a small flutter of excitement rippling through him as he got closer to the brownstone at number 348. It had been several years since he’d seen his friends, but because of his soul-tracker he’d been able to keep an eye on things, to make sure all was right with this world. He knew they’d had a child, a daughter he’d yet to meet. He took a deep breath. He was anxious to meet her, and hopefully take her on an incredible journey.
*******************************
It was a lazy Saturday afternoon in the house at 348 Hyperion. Lois Lane-Kent was sitting at the kitchen table, working on her novel, while her husband Clark stood at the counter, measuring out ingredients for a cake for their daughter’s thirteenth birthday.
“I still don’t know why you can’t just go down the street to the bakery and buy a cake,” she said to him as he sifted flour into a bowl. “I’m sure she’d like it just as much.”
“Absolutely not,” Clark replied, not looking up. “A girl only turns thirteen once. I want it to be a special day for her, complete with a homemade cake.” He turned to look at his wife. “I’m not gonna cheat and buy one.”
Lois just smiled, still amazed at how thoughtful he was, especially when it came to their daughter. It didn’t surprise her though. Clark was the most considerate man she’d ever known, and totally devoted to her and their only child.
“Well, with her Daddy baking it, how could it be anything but special?” Lois said, then stood and walked over to him.
Meanwhile, in the living room, Clarissa Kent sat on the couch, an open textbook on her side and an electronic notepad on her lap. She was busy writing a poem for her seventh grade creative writing class, when the doorbell rang. Looking up, she placed her notepad on the textbook and sprang from the couch, almost at superspeed.
“I’ll get it!” she yelled in the direction of the kitchen. Bounding across the room, she opened the front door to find a strange looking little man standing there, wearing a bowler hat and tiny, round glasses, twiddling his fingers. She looked him up and down quickly, her eyebrows rising into her hairline. “Yes?” she asked politely, if a bit amusedly.
“My, my,” he murmured. “You are certainly the very image of your father,” he remarked, taking in the girl’s warm brown eyes, dark brown hair, and slight olive complexion.
“Excuse me?” she asked, her eyebrows going even higher up.
He blinked at his slip and shook his head slightly. “Forgive me. Is your father home, my dear? We’re old friends, and I should very much like to see him.”
Her expression began to relax. “Yes, he is,” she replied. “Whom should I say is asking?”
“My name is Wells,” he smiled, touching the brim of his hat in greeting.
Clarissa wasn’t quite sure what to make of the strange man, but her curious nature got the better of her. “Wait here, please. I’ll get him,” she said.
“Thank you, my dear,” he replied cheerfully.
Clarissa closed the door carefully and went to the kitchen. Pushing the swinging door open slightly, she poked her head inside to find her parents cuddling against the counter, her father’s arms wrapped securely around her mother’s waist. She seemed to be feeding him ready-made frosting with one finger.
“Dad?” she said, then rolled her eyes when her father growled low in his throat as he kissed her mother and her mother giggled. “Dad!” she said again, louder, annoyed at her parents’ unabashed shows of affection. Secretly, though, she loved it. Growing up she’d seen daily how much her parents adored each other. It was a little embarrassing sometimes, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. Finally her parents pulled apart and looked at her.
“What is it, sweetie?” Clark asked.
“Dad, there’s someone here to see you. Says he’s an old friend of yours.”
Lois and Clark looked at each other. “Did he give his name?” he asked.
“He said his name was Wells,” Clarissa answered, then noticed the look that passed between her parents. “He also seemed to know me.”
“We’ll be right there, sweetie,” Clark finally said. Clarissa nodded and left. Lois turned in Clark’s arms.
“Clark…” she began, anticipation mixing with mild alarm in her voice. “H. G. Wells! The last time we saw him, he took us back in time to foil that awful curse,” she reminded him, shuddering slightly at the memory.
“I know, honey,” he replied soothingly, putting his hands gently on her shoulders. “And, with his help, we did.”
“I know, but…oh god, Clark!” she continued, the alarm in her voice rising. “Why is he here again? What does he want now? After all this time?”
After nearly fifteen years of marriage, Clark could still tell when his beautiful wife was going into panic mode. He moved swiftly, using his time-honored way of stymieing it.
“Lois, honey,” he said softly when he finally pulled his lips from hers. “We have overcome every obstacle that Time and the Universe have thrown at us. It’s been thirteen years since Mr. Wells has visited us. Trust me, we have nothing to fear from him,” he promised her, cupping her jaw. “Now, let’s go out there and greet our visitor, okay?” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Reassured by his love, she laid her hand on his. “Okay.”
He kissed her lightly on the forehead, then guided her out of the kitchen.
“But just so you know, I am not going back in time again!” she announced over her shoulder.
Behind her, Clark chuckled and shook his head.
*******************************
Clarissa reopened the front door to find Wells still there. “Come on in, Mr. Wells,” she said pleasantly, holding the door open.
“Thank you, my dear,” he said, and stepped through, then waited as she closed the door.
“So, how do you know my dad?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m quite on with both your parents; we go back quite far, I assure you,” he replied, with a chuckle.
Just then Lois and Clark came out of the kitchen to see H.G. Wells talking to their daughter. Together they approached and greeted him.
“Mr. Wells! How nice to see you!” Lois said warmly, holding out her hand. Instead of shaking it, however, Wells took her hand, bent slightly and kissed her knuckles.
“Always a pleasure, Ms. Lane. You’re as lovely as ever,” he replied, then shook Clark’s hand. “And how are you doing, my boy?” he asked Clark.
Clark smiled as he shook Wells’ hand. “I am doing wonderful,” he answered emphatically. “Thanks to you.”
“Delighted to hear it, Clark. Absolutely delighted.”
“Well,” Clark said, “why don’t we all have a seat in the living room?”
“Great idea,” Lois chimed in.
Once they were all seated, with Clarissa between Lois and Clark, Clark introduced H.G. Wells to their daughter. “Mr. Wells…” he started.
“Please, Clark,” Wells interrupted. “Call me ‘Herb’.”
Clark grinned. “Okay, Herb, Lois and I want you to meet someone very special.” Clark put his arm around Clarissa. “This is our daughter, Clarissa Lane Kent. Clarissa,” he turned to her, and nodded at Wells, “this is Herbert George Wells, a great friend of your mom’s and mine.”
Clarissa held out her hand to shake his. “It’s nice to…meet you,” she said haltingly, and
then her almond shaped eyes narrowed slightly. “Herbert…George? Why does that sound familiar?” she murmured, staring at him. Lois and Clark looked at each other over her head. “Wait a minute! I know. I-I saw your name on a DVD book at school! ‘The Collective Works of H.G. Wells’! The writer!” she exclaimed proudly at her powers of deduction.
“Very good, my dear. You know your literary history,” Herb chuckled.
But then Clarissa’s smile faded, replaced by a puzzled frown. “The writer,” she repeated, and her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Aren’t you dead??” she gasped.
Herb answered Lois and Clark’s daughter with a bemused smile. “Only some of the time.”
“Wow,” Clarissa breathed. “Well, it’s an honor to meet you Mr. Wells,” she continued animatedly. “You’re actually one of my favorite writers. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read ‘The Time Machine’!” she paused, marveling at meeting her idol face to face. “So, just exactly how long have you known my parents?” she asked, suddenly back in curiosity mode.
The abrupt shift from adoration to interrogation left Herb a bit stunned. He chuckled. “That, my dear, is a truly fascinating tale of its own…”
Wide-eyed, she leaned forward in anticipation.
“…which I will share with you, soon. But right now, I must speak alone with your parents,” Wells said, looking at Lois and Clark.
“Clarissa, sweetie,” Clark said, taking the hint. “Why don’t you take your poetry up to your room for a while?”
“But Dad…” Clarissa protested.
“Go on,” Clark replied firmly. “We’ll call you back soon.”
Grudgingly, she nodded, and stood. Picking up her book and notepad, she turned toward the stairs. Her hand on the bannister, she angled her head back to speak.
“Don’t forget to call me back down, Daddy. I want to hear that story!” she declared, and then, in what might’ve been described as a blur, she disappeared.
“Incredible,” Wells murmured to himself, after observing the younger Kent’s exit. “She certainly takes after her mother, doesn’t she?” he chuckled. “Observant, curious and already determined not to let go of a story! She is definitely the daughter of Lois Lane.”
“Don’t get me started,” Clark groaned, then pretended to rub his arm after Lois thwacked him.
“Watch it, mister!” Lois warned, looking mock angrily at Clark.
“But I’m quite pleased to see, Clark, that she takes strikingly after you as well. It quite took my breath away when she opened the door. Her physical resemblance is remarkable, and her mannerisms, the way she regarded me; so very charming and polite.”
“Clarissa’s her father’s daughter, all right,” Lois said, smiling at Clark.
“And every time I look at her, I see her mother,” Clark replied softly, returning her gaze and taking her hand in his.
Normally, Herb didn’t mind when Lois and Clark got this way. It was, after all, their love that created Utopia. But right now, he was on a mission, and it involved their daughter. He cleared his throat slightly, breaking their spell.
“Not that I mind your visible expressions of affection,” Wells began, blushing slightly, “but I do have something of the utmost importance to discuss with you.” He nodded when he again had their full attention. “Yes, quite. Well, as I said before, Clarissa’s resemblance to you and Ms. Lane is…is…” he trailed off.
“Super?” Lois suggested with a smirk, ignoring Clark’s eye roll.
“Actually, I might have said ‘astonishing’, had I not already known about her.”
“You knew Lois and I had a daughter?” Clark asked.
“Indeed,” Herb replied. “After my last visit, in which Tempus was successfully banished, I monitored the timeline, and therefore have known for some time that you had a child.”
“And you just now decided to come meet her?” Lois demanded, slightly peeved.
“Lois…” Clark began to chide her gently, but Wells interrupted.
“Considering the circumstances of my last few visits so long ago, I thought my presence
before now might have been met with some…trepidation?” he suggested knowingly.
Lois averted her eyes and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, slightly embarrassed at
remembering her first reaction to hearing he was there.
He chuckled. “Yes, quite. I thought it best to let things progress naturally, which they have. I’m most delighted to see that the road to Utopia is well on its way,” he paused, “which is why I’m here. I wish to take your daughter on a journey, an escapade, if you will.”
“What kind of journey?” Lois asked.
Herb braced himself, for he knew the idea would take some work to sell. “I want to take her with me into the past…” he began.
“What?” Clark asked, his voice losing all previous softness.
“…so that she may see where she comes from…” Herb continued.
“Clarissa knows where she’s from, Mr. Wells,” Lois stated, not liking what she was hearing.
“…and so she might gain a unique perspective on who she will become,” Herb finished calmly, despite the interruptions.
Lois and Clark looked at each other for a long moment. Then, as if their shared look alone had communicated their thoughts, turned back to Wells.
“No,” Clark said simply, but firmly.
“Clark…” Wells tried again, in one of the few instances he’d used his first name.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wel..Herb. But Lois and I have thought it over, and,” he paused, shook his head, and turned to look at his wife, “we just don’t think it would be a good idea.”
Herb looked at Lois. “Ms. Lane?” he asked, almost beseechingly.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wells,” Lois replied, pulling her gaze from her husband’s. “But this is one time in which I’ll admit Clark speaks for both of us. I can still remember my own experiences with time travel,” she said disdainfully, as if to her, the memory was of a bad vacation. “First going back to 1966 to save Superman, only to have Tempus gloatingly tell me who he really was,” she paused, looking softly at Clark, telling him without words that her anger about that had long since faded. She then turned to look at Wells again.
“And then being kidnapped by Tempus! Even though that didn’t involve time-travel, I still remember the fear and loneliness I felt being in such a strange place, even if it was Metropolis,” she trailed off, staring at nothing in particular. “Not knowing if I’d ever get home, if I’d ever see Clark again…” she trailed off, her voice choking up.
Instinctively, Clark grasped her hand, holding it in both of his, squeezing gently. “That was the worst ten seconds of my life,” he murmured softly, looking at their joined hands. “I really thought I’d lost you,” he returned his gaze to hers, remembering that awful day.
With her free hand, she reached up and stroked his face. “And I did lose you once,” she said, “when Tempus threw you into that time window.” For a moment they were lost in their memories, then remembered they were not alone, and were trying to prove a point.
“So you see, Herb,” Clark continued. “The dangers that Lois and I faced were bad enough. We’re not about to put our daughter through that.”
Herb sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. Maybe he was going about it the wrong way. Instead of simply begging, it might be better to try sympathizing, and then a bit of cajoling.
“I’m not going to argue with either of you about that. What both of you experienced goes beyond the realm of most people’s comprehension. When Tempus attempted to kill Superman, I said I wished I’d never built the time machine. And at the time I meant it; I never dreamed that my invention would be used to cause such chaos,” he said, then paused. “However, in the years since, I’ve come to be very grateful that I did not destroy it. Admittedly, I made a terrible mistake trusting Tempus so blindly, and as a result I’ve set very strict rules for myself with regards to the machine’s use.”
“What kind of rules?” Clark asked.
“Well, for starters, not asking simply anyone to accompany me on my travels, which I have severely limited. And most importantly, adopting a sort of, ‘Prime Directive’ if you will.” Seeing the dubious, ‘you’ve-got-to-be-kidding’ look he received from Lois and Clark, he nodded in understanding. “Yes quite. It is a bit absurd, I agree, but the intention is still the same. I no longer travel through time in a naïve attempt to alter events which have already come to pass,” he stated firmly. “Which is why it would be quite safe for your daughter to come with me now, but that is not the only reason I’m asking,” he quickly added when Lois began to protest. “Ms. Lane, Mr. Kent, you’ve heard the
expression ‘those who forget their history are doomed to repeat it’?”
They nodded slowly.
“Well, I believe that the reverse can also be true. Your daughter has a unique opportunity to gain a glimpse of her role in the future by learning more about her family’s past. By seeing her parents as they once were, she will have a better understanding of who she will be. But she will not be there to alter any of it. As I once was on our journey to the past, Clarissa will be merely an observer.” He stopped, and waited, watching the silent interplay between Lois and Clark. After an extended silence, they once again turned to address Wells.
Taking a deep breath, Clark began. “We’re still not totally comfortable with it, but if you can promise us,” Clark emphasized the word, “that Clarissa won’t be harmed, or become stuck in a time period she doesn’t belong, then,” he exhaled slowly, and nodded, “alright.”
Wells started, surprised. “Really? Are you sure?”
Lois and Clark rose from the couch, so Wells also stood. “We’ll have to discuss it with Clarissa first, but if she’s okay with it, then she can go,” Lois added.
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Wells beamed, clapping his palms together. “I’m so pleased that you’ll allow Clarissa to do this. And I’m sure once we’ve spoken she’ll jump at the chance.”
“I’ll go get her,” Lois said, and headed upstairs.
“You’ve made a wise decision, my boy,” Wells remarked to Clark. “She may be a child, but she is the beginning of the road to Utopia. Seeing her own family in its infancy can only strengthen that foundation,” he reassured him.
Clark nodded. “I hope you’re right.”
******************************
A few minutes later Clarissa rejoined her parents and Mr. Wells in the living room. Lois and Clark sat together, while their daughter and Wells sat on the couch across from them.
“So you see, my dear,” Wells finished, “we would not be going back in time to change anything. I simply want you to see your parents as they were before they were your parents.”
Clarissa sat silently for a moment, trying to absorb everything she’d been told. When her mom had come and brought her back downstairs, everyone had looked so serious. They’d sat her down, and Mr. Wells had finally told her the story of how he knew her parents; that’d he’d met them before they were married, even before her mom knew her dad was Superman, which to Clarissa seemed strange. She had known since she was ten and her parents had told her, and it just seemed strange that there was ever a time when her mom didn’t know, it was just a part of their everyday life. Wells had also told her about the other times they’d met; once to help Lois when she’d been kidnapped, another to foil a curse so they could begin their married life, and the last time, after her dad, or rather Superman, had become lost in time and Mr. Wells had helped Lois get him back.
Clarissa knew her family wasn’t exactly…normal. With her dad being Superman, it was just par for the course. Even at her young age she was used to it. But after what she’d just heard, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to look at her parents the same way again. Curses? Alternate universes? And now this strange man, who obviously knew her parents a whole lot better than she did, wanted to take her *back in time*?? Like they’d be going to Disneyland or the Superman Museum??
“Clarissa, sweetie? Are you okay?” her father’s soft voice broke into her thoughts. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” she replied. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly before trying to speak.
‘Just like Clark when he’s nervous,’ Lois thought. “We know it’s a lot to take in, sweetheart. You probably never thought of your boring old parents as having such crazy lives,” she said lightly.
“Oh, believe me, Mom, Dad,” Clarissa said, shaking her head. “I’ve never thought of you two as boring. I found out just how *not* boring you two were when I was ten.”
Lois and Clark exchanged a chagrined look.
“But this is just all so…so…I don’t know. It’s kinda scary,” she admitted. She looked at Wells. “Is it really that simple?” she asked, incredulously. “We hop into a souped-up car and, presto-chango, we’re zapped back in time! Like in that really old movie, what was it called?” she snapped her fingers, trying to remember. “The one where that goofy old scientist takes that kid back to see his parents? Oh, ‘Back to the Future’! It’s as easy as that?” she asked Mr. Wells, her voice growing more excited.
“Well, although I’m not terribly familiar with the details of twentieth century cinema, I am somewhat familiar with that one,” Wells replied. “But, yes, with my time machine it will be that simple. Fortunately I don’t require as rare an alloy as plutonium to power it. All I need, Clarissa, is for you to agree to come with me.”
Clarissa stared at him a few more seconds, still amazed at the fact that H.G. Wells was sitting in her living room, asking her to go back in time with him. And now both he and her parents were watching her, patiently waiting for her decision. She wanted to laugh out loud, to ask if the whole world had gone crazy, but she already new, being the daughter of Superman, that craziness was in the eye of the beholder. Oh gosh, her parents!
“Mom, Dad?” she looked at them anxiously, seeking their permission.
Lois and Clark shared yet another look. “At first,” Lois began, “your father and I were hesitant to allow it, but Herb managed to convince us that it would be safe.”
“He wants to show you who we were,” Clark said. “And as long as you come home safely,” he paused, glancing briefly at Wells, who nodded again imperceptibly. “Then it’s alright with us.”
Again, Clarissa was silent for a moment, her brown eyebrows knitting together in a frown of concentration.
‘God, she looks so much like her mother when she does that,’ Clark thought, seeing his wife’s expression while studying copy now reflected on his daughter’s face.
Just then the frown disappeared, and she looked right at Mr. Wells. “Okay, let’s do it!” she declared, a grin spreading across her face.
For a moment, Wells looked elated, but then quickly sobered. “Are you certain, my dear?” he asked cautiously.
Clarissa rolled her eyes. “Of course, I’m sure! You want me to go, right? Well, it sounds like it would be totally awesome!” She was all worked up about it now. “And my mom and dad say it’s okay, and they seem to be the experts on this kind of thing, I mean, they would right? Having so much experience with it. Dad, being Superman and all, I’m sure he’s used to all sorts of weird things in his life. I know I’m not supposed to talk about it, or enjoy the fact that he is, but it does make life really interesting. Do I need to change clothes or pack or anything? What exactly does a trip through time involve?” she asked suddenly, leaving her parents and Wells momentarily speechless.
Wells was the first to recover. “Astonishing,” he marveled at the young girl’s tangent.
“Of all the things she could’ve gotten from me, she had to get the babble gene,” Lois lamented.
“She got a lot more than that, believe me,” Clark replied wryly.
Regaining his senses, Herb stood and put on his hat, bringing the Kents to their feet.
“No, my dear. There’s no need to change, or pack,” he said with a small chuckle. “The time machine is waiting for us at a secure location, ready to take us on our journey. All you need to do, Clarissa, is take my hand,” he said softly, and held out his hand for her.
She looked at his hand, and for a moment, her smile faltered when she realized that he meant for them to leave immediately. But just as quickly, it grew again, and excitement shone in her dark brown eyes. She turned to her parents.
“Well, Mom and Dad,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “I guess I’ll be going with Mr. Wells now. This is gonna be so much fun! Traveling back through time, seeing you before you were my parents! I can’t even imagine that. I just hope you’re not really old when I get back.”
“Oh, no, my dear. Not at all,” Wells chimed in. “When our journey is finished, I shall simply return you to this moment. You will remember everything you have seen, and nothing about your family’s life will be changed.”
She nodded in understanding, then turned to hug her parents.
“Good luck, sweetie,” Clark said, kissing her on the cheek.
“I hope your experience with time travel will be as, um…enlightening, as it was for us,” Lois said, tossing a smiling glance at Clark. “Just be safe, and come home soon.”
“Ms. Lane, I assure you, you won’t even know she was gone.”
With that, Clarissa took Mr. Wells’ hand, and together they walked towards the front door. Turning back one last time, Clarissa smiled confidently, and waved. The door closed behind them, and they were gone.
For a long moment, Lois and Clark just stood there, absorbing the events of the afternoon, Clark’s arms around his wife’s shoulders. She leaned into him, needing to feel his strength.
“She’ll be okay, honey,” Clark murmured, giving Lois a gentle squeeze. When she didn’t respond, he frowned slightly. “Herb promised us he’d return her safely, and I believe him.”
“I know,” she said, so softly he almost didn’t hear her.
“You’re not worried that something will go wrong and she'll end up stuck in the Middle Ages, are you?” he asked with a chuckle.
“No, it’s not her traveling through time that’s got me worried, Clark.” She turned to look at him, but stayed in his arms. “It’s what she’s bound to see. I think it’s just now hitting me; Herb took her to see us when we were much younger, before we were married. I hate the idea of our daughter seeing the way I treated you when we first met. It still shames me to think about it, and now my little girl is going to be ashamed of me too.”
“Honey, Clarissa is not going to be ashamed of you,” he reached up to stroke her
cheek. “You’re her mother; she loves you. If anything, she’ll wonder why her father lied to her mother for so long. I mean, all her life, we’ve taught her the values of honesty and trust. At that point in time, I wasn’t exactly a beacon of either.”
“Hhmmm," she murmued. "So I guess she'll see that her mom and dad both made mistakes before they got it right, huh?”
“Exactly,” he said, and kissed her. “After all, she knows her parents are only human,” he added sardonically.
“Mmmmmm,” she murmured contentedly after he pulled away. “I guess it might be a good thing she went with Herb. We want our children to inherit the best of who we were, and certainly a better understanding of who they *will* be. I just want Clarissa to come back from her journey, proud of who she is, and yes, proud of us.
"She will, honey," Clark reassured her. "After all, remember, she's a Kent."
*****************
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