From part 18...
"Don't lie to me, Lois!" he shouted, his eyes flashing. "I'm a journalist, too. I know what it's like to finally stumble across a story that you think can make your career. You found the story you wanted and wrote it! It’s as simple as that!" He stood there for a moment, daring Lois to argue with his line of reasoning.
When she continued to stare at him in shock, her mouth half open in stunned silence, he shook his head and went on, unable to stand the silence even a moment longer. His anger turned to a throbbing ache and tears sprung unbidden into his eyes. He spoke, his voice a strangled whisper. "Lois, I can’t believe you would do this after everything we’ve meant to each other. I really thought we had something. For the first time in my life I thought I’d finally found someone I could share everything with. And I did, along with my heart and soul. And this is how you repay me."
Lois took a step toward him, her eyes pleading and her hand outstretched. "Clark, please, you’ve got to believe me..."
But Clark shook his head and took a deep, shaky breath in an effort to hold back the threatening tears. He wasn’t about to let her see him cry a second time. "Goodbye, Lois."
Then, without a backward glance, he turned and walked out her front door.
He got as far as the alley two blocks away before he let the tears come. He changed into the Suit and launched himself into the night sky, flying faster and faster in an attempt to exert the anger he felt exploding inside of him--and the hot, aching pain of betrayal in his heart.
A few days ago he had turned to Lois when his world had been falling apart and his heart was aching, and she had been there for him. But this time, as his world crumbled down around him, he knew the situation was very different. He was going to have to deal with his own heartache. Alone.
**********
Now on to part 19...
**********
Lois watched, stunned, her heart aching, as Clark slammed the door soundly behind him as he stormed out of her apartment. Then the room was quiet. Too quiet. Clark’s angry words continued to echo in the silence around her as the tears started to slip down her cheeks.
Why had she ever written that article in the first place? She remembered being angry and using it as an outlet to vent, but that seemed like an eternity ago. And now, everything she’d hoped to share with Clark was ruined because of her.
‘You should have deleted the article in the first place so no one could ever find it,’ she thought dismally. ‘Why didn’t you? Was there some underlying, subconscious reasoning for it?’
Before she could delve into the mysteries of her subconscious, she hurried out onto the balcony. Surely he would be flying home. Maybe there was a chance she could catch him.
‘But then what?’ the little voice in the back of her head chided. ‘He’s furious. Do you really think he would come back if he did hear you?’
Realizing the voice was probably right, he steps slowed, but she found herself out on the balcony a moment later anyway, staring at the night sky. She didn’t see any movement along the clouds, so she could only assume Clark was already gone.
Gone.
The word hung heavily in her heart. Had she really just ruined the best relationship she’d ever started? Clark was definitely something special, and not just because he was Superman. He had kindness and gentleness about him that made him easy to talk to and easy to trust. She felt comfortable around him in a way she never had with another man before. And they had more chemistry than she ever imagined possible. Her whole body felt tingly and alive when she was with him, and she knew he felt the same way. She could tell by the way his eyes lit up when he saw her, and by the way his eyes followed her every movement.
They were perfect together, and she’d ruined everything.
She shivered as a cool ocean breeze picked up and wafted over her. In spite of the warmer, beach-walking clothes she’d changed into, she felt chilled clear to her bones. And she knew it didn’t have everything to do with the chilly fall night. It was her own doing that she felt so miserable right now--and the reason Clark undoubtedly felt the same way.
Her hands gripped the balcony’s wrought iron railing until her hands hurt. Things couldn’t be over between them. They couldn’t. And she wasn’t going to let it.
With renewed determination she turned and walked back into her apartment. As she approached the phone on her end table, she realized Clark may not even be home yet. And if he were, he probably wouldn’t pick up the phone. All she knew was that she had to try.
She dialed the number she now knew by heart and put the phone to her ear. The phone rang once, twice, three times, then, unsurprisingly, she heard his answering machine pick up. The sound of his voice caused her heart to turn, wondering if she would ever be able to hear it again in person.
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she heard the beep, then began to talk. "Clark, are you there?" She paused, hoping he would pick up, but not surprised when nothing happened. She breathed a heavy sigh and continued. "You’re probably not home yet, or maybe you are and you just don’t want to talk to me, but...well, I just had to tell you again that I’m sorry. I know you don’t believe me, that I wasn’t going to print that story, but it’s the truth. You have to believe me."
Lois’s voice faltered and she took a moment to steady it. "Well, I guess you’re not there, or maybe you are but are just too mad to talk to me right now, but...well, I just wanted to tell you again that I’m sorry. You were right when you said we have something special. I feel it, too. Please don’t let my one stupid act ruin what we have. Can you just...call me so we can talk? But even if you don’t, and you decide you never want to again, I want you to know that I’ll never expose you. Your secret will go with me to my grave. I just thought you should know that."
With shaky hands, she hung up and set the cordless phone back in its base. She knew there was no reason to carry the phone around with her. He wouldn’t be calling. At least not tonight. She’d seen from the pained look in his eyes that he was deeply hurt. She had no idea if he would ever forgive her, but she knew for certain it wouldn’t be tonight.
She sighed dejectedly as she walked through her living room and kitchen turning off the lights, planning to head to bed. It was the best place for a good cry.
When she flipped off the switch in the living room, the light from the computer monitor caught her eye. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the screen dismally. That stupid article. Why had she ever written it in the first place? Her own insecurities had gotten the better of her, and she felt ashamed of that.
Anger building up inside of her, she dropped her arms to her side and stomped over to the computer and dropped into the chair. Furiously she grabbed the mouse and right clicked on the file, then hit ‘delete.’ But even that didn’t feel good enough. She moved the cursor over to the recycle bin icon on her desktop and emptied everything from it with a click of the mouse.
There. She sat back in the chair and stared at the computer screen for a long time. It was finally taken care of. It was probably too little, too late, she realized, but at least nobody else would ever stumble across it. A single tear slid down her cheek. Somehow that realization didn’t make her feel much better. The damage had already been done. Clark thought she’d planned on betraying him, and apparently no amount of arguing or explanations from her was going to changed his mind.
She had ruined everything.
She flicked the computer off, then hurried into her bedroom, throwing herself down across her bed. Then she let the tears come.
~*~*~*~*~
By the middle of the next morning, Lois was even more miserable than she’d been the night before. She’d tried Clark twice more on his home phone, and twice on his cell phone. He didn’t pick up at either line. To make matters worse, every time the phone rang or she heard a sound outside her apartment—especially coming from the direction of the balcony--she’d jump and run to investigate, hoping each time it would be Clark. But it never was.
Her heart grew heavier with each hour that passed, and she realized if she couldn’t stop crying, she was going to have to go to the store to buy more tissues. In the frightful state she was in, she doubted that would be a good idea. She’d only had the heart to pull on the first pair of jeans she’d found in her drawer--and old pair with a large hole in the right knee--and a grubby old dark green sweatshirt. She’d made the mistake of looking into the mirror after running a brush through her hair and securing it into a simple ponytail at the nape of her neck. She couldn’t help noticing her pale complexion and red eyes, swollen from hours of crying, and the bags under her eyes from a sleepless night.
She tried to busy herself around her apartment, not daring to leave in case Clark did call. But he didn’t.
By dinnertime, Lois found herself staring glumly into the near empty fridge, wondering what she might make that required the smallest amount of effort. The memory of Clark rummaging around in her kitchen, trying to teach her to make a healthy meal out of the simplest of items brought tears to her eyes once again.
She shut the fridge. Right now she would rather stay hungry than have to face yet another memory of Clark, and what she quite possibly ruined.
The sound of the doorbell made her jump, and Lois practically launched herself at the front door. She fumbled at the locks with shaking fingers, then yanked the door open. The sudden movement startled her visitor, but instead of seeing a look of surprise on Clark’s face, she realized she was looking at a look of surprise on Agnes’s.
Her elderly neighbor stood in the open doorway with a container in her hands, her eyes widening as she looked Lois up and down, taking in the younger woman’s haggard appearance.
"My dear, what’s happened to you? You look dreadful!" she exclaimed, the tone of sincere concern evident in her voice.
Lois struggled to contain the disappointment in her voice upon realizing her visitor wasn’t the young man she was hoping to see. "I--I’ve just kind of had a rough day, that’s all," she stammered, hoping her neighbor didn’t notice the tears pooling in her eyes.
But the perceptive older woman did, and her eyes never left Lois’s as she extended the warm container to Lois. "I don’t know why, but something told me to bring you some of my leftover ham."
That did it. Lois’s shoulders started to shake, and she broke down. Agnes silently stepped forward and engulfed her in a hug, guiding her into the apartment so she could shut the door.
"There, there, dear," she soothed as she steered Lois over to the couch and sat down with the younger woman still crying in her arms. "Whatever’s happened can’t be that bad. There’s always a way to fix whatever’s gone wrong in our lives."
Lois shook her head and pulled back, still crying. "But that’s just it. I don’t think I can fix this, Agnes. I’ve screwed everything up with Clark, and I don’t think he’s ever going to want to see me again."
She dropped her head back onto Agnes’s shoulder as the tears continued to come, and Agnes patted her on the back understandingly.
"What exactly happened?" Agnes asked quietly. "Did this happen last night?"
Lois nodded. She sat up and swiped at the tears on her cheeks. Her voice was steadier as she explained. "Clark is the man I met at the Daily Planet in Metropolis when I was there. We’ve been talking on the phone and emailing, and everything’s been going so great between us. He...flew out to see me, but last night we...got into a fight."
Lois hoped Agnes didn’t pick up on her hesitations as she tried to explain in the fewest amount of details possible. She couldn’t exactly explain that Clark had flown out there not on an airplane, but on his own power, and that he had found an article betraying him by exposing his secret identity as the world’s new hero and media darling.
But her explanation seemed to be good enough for Agnes because the woman ‘tsk-tsk’ed and shook her head sympathetically. "Have you tried to apologize?"
"Repeatedly. He’s already back home, so I’ve called him several times, but he won’t pick up. Either that or he’s purposely out doing things to avoid me. I’ve even tried his cell phone, but he must have Caller ID on it because he’s not picking that up when I call it, either."
"He’s already back home?" Agnes’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. "That was a fast trip. What did he do, hop the first plane home after your fight?"
Lois’s breath caught in her throat. She’d never lied before to Agnes, but she realized that’s what she had to do. It was only a little white lie, after all. For the first time, she wondered if this was what Clark felt like, having to tell little white lies to cover for himself all the time. The guilt of telling one little white lie to someone she loved was nearly eating her up already. What must it be like for him?
As if she needed something else to make her feel guilty, she found herself sympathizing with Clark, and wishing she had never written that stupid article. She felt a sob catch in her throat as she finally nodded at Agnes. "Apparently. I assume he’s home by now, unless..."
A new thought worked it way into her mind. Smallville. Could he have headed for Smallville to talk to his parents? Before he had her, they were exactly who he turned to.
But as quickly as the thought came, she dismissed it as unlikely. She didn’t know how much he’d told them about her, or even if they knew things were becoming a little more exclusive between them, but she knew he felt uncomfortable talking with them at least about certain things. Like the disaster in Japan, for example. Maybe he wouldn’t want to talk to them about something as close to home as her apparent attempt at betrayal?
Besides, she didn’t think grown ups spilled their guts out to their parents about their love life. Not that she knew that for certain, since hers weren’t around to help her test the theory. But then her eyes focused on Agnes, sitting patiently on the couch beside her, waiting for her to go on. Maybe the idea wasn’t that far fetched. Wasn’t she sitting there, spilling her guts out to Agnes? She was definitely her elder, and she was doing just that.
Her mood brightened a little. She’d looked them up in the online phone book once before, so she knew she could get their phone number easily. But what were the chances Clark would actually be there if she phoned? Even if he had talked to them about what was happening between them since last night, he could be off being Superman or something.
Even so, she decided it was worth a try. At least she could leave a message with his parents that she was trying to get hold of him. The image of his parents in the picture he’d showed her in his apartment flashed in her mind. They seemed like nice people. Surely they wanted their only son to be happy, and to get involved with a nice young lady who he could fall in love with and eventually settle down. Maybe she could use that unconsciously in her favor?
But then a new argument occurred to her. What if he *had* told them what happened, and they sided with him? With the special person that he was, they were clearly fiercely protective of him. What if a phone call from her wouldn’t be welcome, after everything he’d told them?
She swallowed hard. It was indeed a possibility. Was it enough to keep her from trying, however? After a long moment, she decided it wasn’t. She had to try. She cared enough about Clark to do everything in her power to convince him to give her another chance.
Agnes squeezed her hand, bringing her thoughts back to the present. "You have an idea about how to get him to talk to you, don’t you, dear?" she asked, knowing Lois well enough to recognize the familiar, impulsive, leap-into-action gleam in her eye.
Lois smiled for the first time that day. "I think I do. It’s worth a shot, anyway."
"It certainly is." Agnes nodded encouragingly. Then she patted Lois’s hands and stood up. "I’m going to let you try to get hold of that young man of yours, but you be sure to let me know how it goes. And if you need to talk or anything, you know where to find me."
She smiled kindly, and Lois stood up to give her a hug. "Thanks, Agnes. I love you."
"I love you, too, dear." She headed for the door, then gestured to the container she’d set down on the credenza during her rushed entrance. "And have some of that ham, will you? From the look of you, you haven’t had a bite to eat all day. I wouldn’t want you wasting away to nothing. You’re already thin enough as it is."
Lois rolled her eyes playfully as she followed her neighbor to the door. "I will. And thanks. I hardly have anything in the fridge, but I didn’t have the motivation to run out to the store in the state I’m in."
"I understand." Agnes opened the door, then gave Lois one last smile. "When you feel ready, give me all the details would you? Oh, and for what it’s worth..." Her smile grew until it was a mischievous grin. "I liked that young man of yours. He’s as handsome and nice as the sun is bright."
Lois lifted her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh? What made you change your mind? I thought Princess convinced you he was hiding something."
"Everyone has something to hide, dear," Agnes said. "But there are certain things I can see that Princess can’t, being a dog, and all."
"Like?" Lois prompted.
"Like the way you two looked at each other. You may not have known each other very long, but I can tell there’s a bond between you two. That kind of instant bond is rare. Anyway, in this case I’m overruling Princess’s opinion." She winked.
Lois laughed. "Thanks, I think."
"Well, don’t just stand there talking to me." Agnes shooed her toward the phone. "I’ll see myself out. Just let me know what happens." Then she shut between them, and Lois was alone.
Lois grinned and shook her head, feeling happier already. What would she do without Agnes in her life? She loved her dearly.
Taking a deep breath and then letting it out steadily, she went over to her computer, went online to the phonebook website, then looked up Clark’s parents in Smallville. Finally she turned to the phone. She had a call to make.
**********
Martha was just drying the last plate from dinner, enjoying the quiet after a hectic meal. It had been their neighbor Wayne Irig’s birthday, and she and Jonathan had invited Wayne and his wife over for dinner. She had even managed to convince a sullen Clark to come after he had called earlier that day to try to cancel.
She sighed as she put the plate away in the cupboard, then tossed the dishtowel over her shoulder and turned to gather up the last of the items from the table. Clark was definitely down about something. It worried her. She knew he was under a tremendous amount of pressure. She only hoped it wasn’t starting to drag him down.
Neither she nor Jonathan had had much time to try to pry out of him what exactly was wrong before their neighbors had arrived, but each time she’d glanced his way during dinner, his eyes never lifted from his food and his expression remained downcast. Something was definitely wrong. She shook her head. It always bothered her that he kept so much bottled up inside; it had been something he’d done since a young age. He always tried to work through things himself first, as if he were afraid he would be a bother by spilling out his problems to somebody. No amount of convincing had ever helped him to understand that she and his father *wanted* him to confide in them, to ask them for help.
But he was a stubborn person. He always had been, and she expected he was going to keep whatever it was that was bothering him bottled up inside for now. She only hoped he would come around soon and tell her what was wrong.
The phone jingled, drawing her thoughts back to the task at hand. She quickly put the ketchup bottle and the pitcher of milk in the fridge, then walked over to the phone. "Hello?" she answered brightly.
There was a brief silence on the line, and she was about to say ‘hello’ again when she finally heard the uncertain sounding voice of a young woman.
"Is--is this the Kent residence?"
"It is," she replied, taking the dishtowel off her shoulder and draping it over the sink’s edge. "Can I help you?"
"Umm, I hope so," the hesitant voice continued. "I hope I have the right number. I’m looking for the Kents who have a son named Clark."
The strange conversation caused Martha to pause in her kitchen duties. She frowned, then turned to lean back against the counter. "You have the right number. Is there something I can do for you? Are you trying to get hold of Clark? He actually lives in Metropolis, but--"
"I know he does," the feminine voice went on falteringly. "I’ve been trying to get hold of him there, but I haven’t exactly been successful, so I thought I might try you--"
Martha listened as the woman started to babble, then seemed to catch herself. She heard a deep sigh from the other end of the line and realized whoever this was having a hard time gathering her thoughts. She didn’t sound like a salesperson or a bill collector (heaven forbid Clark should be behind on any of his payments), so Martha found herself relaxing slightly. "Go on," she encouraged.
The young woman finally did. "I’m sorry, I guess I’m just a little nervous about calling you out of the blue like this. You must be Clark’s mom."
Martha smiled. Whoever this young woman with the lilting, uncertain voice was, she sounded charming. She found herself wondering if she was single, and maybe even somebody Clark liked. Heaven knew she wanted to see Clark married off sometime before she was too old to enjoy such an event. Back in high school, there had been lots of girls calling, but as Clark’s powers had begun to develop, he had kept distancing himself from them more and more, and by graduation had become something of a loner. How nice it seemed to have a girl calling again, and a nice-sounding one, at that.
"Yes, I’m Martha Kent," she found herself saying. "And you are...?"
"Oh! I’m sorry," the young woman quickly exclaimed. "My name is Lois Lane. I don’t know if Clark’s ever mentioned me, but I live out in California. I met your son when I was in Metropolis doing a story..."
"On Superman," Martha finished for her, a smile spreading across her face. So this was the beautiful and talented Lois Lane. She had no idea she would be so young and pretty sounding, if such a thing was possible. All she knew was that Clark had been on cloud nine ever since he told them he had been flying out to spend time with her. Judging from the bright smile on his face each time he popped in for a visit--before tonight, anyway--she assumed things must have been going well between them.
"Sure, he’s mentioned you," Martha continued, walking over to the table and sitting down in a chair to get comfortable. "I’ve heard lots of wonderful things about you. I guess I should also thank you for not exposing my son’s identity, as you’d gone to Metropolis to do. My husband and I love him dearly, and we were very grateful to you for your discretion."
There was a lengthy pause on the line, and Martha wondered if they’d been disconnected. She was about to say the young woman’s name to see if she could still hear her when she finally heard Lois clear her throat awkwardly.
"That’s...good." Another paused. "So he...umm, he hasn’t said anything bad about me in the last day or so?"
Martha’s brow creased into a frown. "No, should he have?"
"Oh, I hope not," Lois quickly went on. "It’s just...we had a kind of a fight yesterday, and I’ve been unable to get hold of him. I’ve tried him at home and on his cell phone a few times, but I think he’s avoiding me." She paused. "I understand you probably don’t want to get in the middle, and believe me, I wouldn’t ask you to. I was just kind of hoping you could tell him I was trying to get hold of him. Or would I be stepping on your toes to ask if you could do that?"
The light of realization turned on in Martha’s head. Suddenly it all made sense. A smile grew across Martha’s face. Clark wasn’t moping around because he was depressed about the ever increasing demands of being two people. He was moping around because he was love sick! It seemed a welcome change, compared to the demands she saw him continually placing upon himself to be everything to everybody. It was nice to see him worrying about something normal for a change, instead of about the people he hadn’t been able to help with his powers.
She turned her attention back to her phone conversation, still smiling. "Of course I’ll tell him," she reassured Lois. "He is here now, as it happens, but he’s out in the barn with his father and our neighbor. They’re probably talking about which farm implements they need to buy this coming spring, or some such guy talk. Would you like me to have him call you when he comes back in?"
There was another sigh from Lois’s end of the line. "I’d love that, but I don’t think he will. He was pretty mad at me. I’ve left messages for him on his answering machine at home, but it hasn’t done any good. Like I said, I don’t want to put you in the middle. I just...could you please tell him I’m sorry? Contrary to what Clark thinks, I would never do anything to hurt him. He doesn’t want to listen to me, but maybe he’ll listen to you. I just...I guess I’d really appreciate hearing from him."
Lois’s voice broke, and Martha suspected she was about to cry. Then she heard Lois clear her throat and steady herself before continuing. "I really like your son, Mrs. Kent. I feel very lucky to have found him, and I hope I don’t lose him." There was another pause, then a teary laugh. "I’m sorry, Mrs. Kent. I hadn’t meant to call and practically pour my heart out to you. You probably think I’m nuts, calling you like this."
Martha’s heart went out to this young lady who obviously meant a great deal to her son. She didn’t know her at all, other than what Clark had told her and Jonathan, but she seemed nice enough...very sweet and sincere. It took a lot of guts to call your boyfriend’s parents and try to get an apologetic message to him through them. She wasn’t sure she would have done something like that when she and Jonathan were courting all those years ago. But then, being assertive was probably a life skill in Lois and Clark’s profession.
She smiled against the phone. "You don’t need to apologize, Lois. It’s obvious you have strong feelings for my son, and I know he does for you, as well. I’ll make sure to tell him you called."
Lois’s voice sounded relieved when she answered, "Thanks, Mrs. Kent."
"It’s not trouble," Martha assured her. "It was really good to talk to you, Lois. I hope we’ll get a chance to talk more in the future."
"I hope so, too. Thanks."
They said goodbye, and Martha found herself absorbed in her thoughts as she returned the phone to its cradle on the wall. She was leaning against the counter, still replaying the phone conversation over in her mind as the kitchen door suddenly banged open, and the sound of male laughter filled the room.
She looked over to see Jonathan and Wayne coming in--sure enough, talking about farming and the next year’s planting possibilities--and she immediately looked for Clark. She spotted him lagging a couple of steps behind his father and Wayne, and he still didn’t look happy. His hands were shoved deep inside his jeans pockets, and his shoulders were hunched desolately.
"Where’s Karen?" Wayne asked, referring to his wife.
Martha pushed off from the counter and took a couple of steps toward the three men. "She ran home to get the cake. She forgot it in the hurry to make it over here in time for dinner."
"Ahh, she’s spoiling me rotten, this birthday," Wayne announced, patting his stomach heartily. "She made me my favorite pie earlier today, and now the chocolate cake she made from scratch. I’ll tell you, Jonathan, we were lucky to marry the women we did."
He and Jonathan started to talk and laugh about memories of their wives as they headed into the living room to wait for Karen, but Martha’s eyes never left Clark. He still hadn’t looked at her since coming inside, and she watched him follow his dad across the room reluctantly. He looked like he would rather be anywhere else at that moment, especially if he could be alone.
Martha quickly moved across the kitchen and intercepted his path to the living room, grabbing his arm and finally causing him to look up to meet her gaze questioningly. She nodded at the table. "Sit down, Clark. We need to talk."
Clark obeyed without a word, and Martha pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. She reached out to cover one of his hands he’d set on the table with one of hers. "Clark, what’s wrong? You’ve been depressed all night; I don’t think you’ve even said a word." When he simply shrugged and continued to stare sullenly down at the table, she decided to pull out the big guns. "This wouldn’t happen to be about Lois, would it?"
That got his attention. Clark’s eyes darted up to hers, and she could clearly see the pained expression her question had brought. "How did you know?" he asked sadly.
"Up until a few minutes ago, I didn’t. That is, not until I got a phone call from Lois." She watched Clark’s expression carefully and enjoyed seeing his eyes widen in surprise at the announcement.
"She called here?"
Martha nodded. "She said she’d been trying to get hold of you since last night, but wasn’t having any luck. She said something about having a fight?"
Clark sighed deeply and dropped his gaze back to the table. His tone was bitter when he answered. "I guess you could say that. Did she tell you what it was about?"
"No." She shook her head. "She made it clear she didn’t want to put me in the middle, and simply asked me to relay the message that she was sorry. She also said she really liked you, and that she didn’t want to lose you."
Clark’s gaze drifted back up to his mother’s, the faintest glimmer of hope in his eyes. "She said that?"
Martha nodded. "And I could tell she meant it. She sounded very upset. What happened, Clark? Do you feel like you could tell me?"
Letting out a trouble sigh, Clark told her about the wonderful time they’d been having together--and how he’d found the expose written on her computer. Martha listened carefully, trying not to take anybody’s side as her son vented his pent-up emotions. She found it hard to believe that the young lady who’d sounded so insecure and almost desperate not to lose her new relationship on the phone earlier could really be planning on betraying Clark. She now understood the pause on the line when she’d thanked Lois for not exposing her son. Lois obviously hadn’t been certain whether or not she’d heard from Clark about what had caused their fight.
"She kept saying she wasn’t going to print the story, that she wrote it after she hadn’t heard from me by the end of the week after she’d gone home, and figured I’d only played on her emotions to keep her from writing the story. She said after she wrote it that she couldn’t turn it in." He shook his head dismally. "But if that was the case, then why hadn’t she deleted it? For all I know she could be lying, and was just waiting for the perfect time to run with it, or maybe to blackmail me with it, or something."
She let out a surprised laugh. "Blackmail you! Clark, that kind of paranoia hardly sounds like you. What happened to the trusting, naive young man your father and I always worry about?" She shook her head. "I think you’re really jumping the gun, here. When I talked to her on the phone, she sounded sincerely remorseful. She even told me to tell you how sorry she was. I realize I don’t know her at all, and that I only talked to her for a few minutes, but I believe her when you say she wrote that when she was hurt, when she thought you’d used her. People do funny things when they’re in love, and when they feel that love isn’t returned. That’s when communication becomes key."
Clark growled in exasperation and leaned back in his chair. "Mom, who’s side are you on? She wrote an article exposing me! You know how terrible that would be. What was I supposed to do, thank her?"
"No, and I can see why you would be upset," his mom soothed. "But she said herself she’d changed her mind about writing it. When you get over being so hurt and angry, I think you’ll realize she’s telling you the truth. The young woman I talked to sounded pretty intent on getting hold of you. If she really had been planning to turn in the story, or blackmail you with it, as you say, why would she be going to such lengths to apologize? A hard-nosed, unfeeling journalist would probably cut their losses, not care a whit if you were mad, and run with the story. She hasn’t. She obviously cares enough to try to make things right with you. That should tell you everything."
It was silent for a long minute as Clark contemplated her words. Finally, he sighed. "I don’t know, Mom. Maybe I’m too upset to see it right now."
Martha leaned over and pulled her son into a hug. She patted him gently on the back. "I know you are. Just give yourself a couple of days, would you? And don’t do anything drastic in the meantime, like throw away your chance at a relationship with Lois just yet. I think once you get over being angry, you’ll be ready to listen to what she has to say. Okay?"
Clark finally nodded. "Okay."
**********
Lois sat alone in her dark apartment, curled up in her overstuffed leather recliner in front of her bay of windows. The city outside was still dark, but the hint of light lurked on the horizon. Normally the sweeping view of the city soothed her, but this morning is only gave her something to stare at blankly.
She tightened the blanket around herself more tightly and shifted further into the corner of the chair. She was still in her pajamas, having wandered out to her living room sometime around 3am, unable to sleep.
It had been two days, and Clark hadn’t called. It was obvious he was still hurt, but she wondered if his silence indicated more. Maybe he never wanted to see her again. Maybe they were finished before they really got started. The harsh realization made it impossible to think about anything else, and she reached up to rub a tired, puffy eyelid. She’d cried entirely too much the last two days. There had been times in her life when crying had made her feel better, but this time it hadn’t. It only served to make her more miserable.
Miserable and alone.
She sighed. She’d had such high hopes for a phone call to leave a message with his parents to give him the push he needed to contact her, but even that hadn’t paid off. Her heart ached at the memory of the conversation she’d had with his mom. She’d been so nice, and Lois had found herself pouring out her heart without even meaning to. She could see why Clark loved her so much. She was as easy to talk to and caring as Clark was.
For a moment she felt a fresh pang for the loss of her own parents. It had been so nice to talk to his mom that it made her long for her own. Agnes was wonderful, but her health wasn’t the best, and Lois hated to think how she would feel when Agnes was gone. She would be all alone again, and the thought made her heart ache even more.
Her thoughts continued to swirl around in her head until her exhausted mind could no longer keep up and she fell into a fitful sleep. A buzzing sound awakened her after what seemed like only a few minutes. Her limbs and eyelids heavy, she pulled herself into a more upright position in her chair and looked around, trying to regain her bearings. She saw the sun was starting to light up the city. Morning had come.
She struggled out of her chair and went into her bedroom to turn off her buzzing alarm. Lifting her arms above her head in a stretch, she realized how tired and stiff she felt. The task of getting ready for work seemed almost insurmountable. If she couldn’t even do that, how in the world was she supposed to go about her job at work?
Exhausted, she turned and eyed her unmade bed. It seemed to call out to her, and she only resisted for a moment before going over and climbing back in. She didn’t have the energy to go to work that day. She didn’t necessarily feel sick; she simply couldn’t bring herself to face work that day.
Uncharacteristically, she decided to call in sick. She just wouldn’t tell her boss the whole truth--that her heart was breaking too much to face her life. At least, not that day.
She reached for the phone on her bedside table and made the call, then climbed back under the covers. She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew there was the sound of loud knocking echoing through her apartment.
She groaned. Hoping whoever it was would go away and leave her alone to wallow in her misery, she pulled the covers up over her head to dampen the noise. When the incessant knocking continued, she yanked the covers back off her face and growled up at the ceiling. She dragged herself out of bed, slipped on her robe, but didn’t bother to tighten the belt as she padded down the hallway to the front door.
When she got there, she yanked it open. The sudden motion startled Agnes, who put a hand to her chest in a gesture of shock.
"My goodness, if you keep opening the door that way you’re going to send me to my grave," Agnes breathed, shaking her head in dismay. Then she dropped her hand and scowled at Lois’s rumpled appearance. "I take it you’re not going to work today?"
Lois rolled her eyes, not in the mood for Agnes’s third degree. "What, do you just sit by your door to make sure I go to work and get home every day? I don’t need your permission to call in sick."
As soon as the words were out, though, Lois realized how mean they were. She opened her mouth to apologize. To her relief, though, Agnes didn’t look offended or hurt. Instead, she looked only sympathetic.
"Your young man hasn’t called, has he?"
Lois’s shoulders slumped. She shook her head. "No. And I even left a message for him at his mom’s house, but that didn’t work, either. I’m plain out of ideas."
Agnes put her hands on her hips and looked at Lois in exasperation. "You’re not really sick, are you? Other than heart sick, that is."
The hint of a smile flickered across Lois’s face. Her neighbor read her too well. "No, I just couldn’t bear the thought of going into work today. I wasn’t up to it."
"And you have some time off coming, don’t you?" Agnes persisted.
Lois eyed her neighbor warily. "Yeah. Why?"
"Then what are you doing here, moping around your apartment? When I was your age, I did impulsive things just as you tend to do. But while you do them in your job, I did them for love. Go chase after that man of yours! Get on a plane and go after him. Show him how sorry you are, and that you’re serious about asking for his forgiveness. I’ve always found it’s easier to stay mad at someone you don’t see. I bet he takes one look at you and all will be forgotten."
Lois sighed. "I wish it were that easy."
"How do you know if it’s not that easy unless you try it? Come on, Lois." Agnes let her hands fall to her sides, a look of frustration on her face. "Use some of that savings you’ve been putting away all these years. I know you never spend it on expensive things or take a vacation, so money’s not an issue. Go buy a plane ticket and go out there! That man’s a catch, and I’m never going to forgive you if you let him get away."
Agnes’s enthusiasm started to spark within Lois, and she found herself seriously considering the idea. But could she really just drop everything and fly out there to see him? What if he wouldn’t talk to her even there?
‘At least he can’t avoid you outright if you show up at the Planet and stand in front of his desk,’ the voice in her head chimed in.
The longer she mulled over the option, the better the idea sounded. An adventurous light in her eyes grew until she finally nodded decisively. "Okay, Agnes, you talked me into it. I’m going to."
"Good!" Agnes clapped her hands together excitedly. "But we’ve got to get you ready. You look a fright."
For the next half hour, Lois let Agnes hustle her about the apartment, helping her get ready to go and throw a few things in a bag. Then she called the airline for flight departures and booked Lois a flight while the younger woman showered and dressed. Before she could come to her sense, Lois found herself standing in front of the elevator.
The doors opened, and it wasn’t until then that Lois hesitated. "What am I doing?" She turned to Agnes, her eyes scared. "What will my boss say when I don’t show up for work tomorrow?"
Agnes shrugged. "Call in sick again from your cell phone. If anyone shows up here looking for you for some reason, I’ll cover for you."
"But--" Her voice faltered. "But what if I get there and I find out it’s over between us? I don’t think I could face that."
"I don’t think that will happen. But if it does, I think it would be a pretty good indication he’s not the one. At that point, you could concentrate of going on with your life and stop beating yourself up about it. There’s no reason to worry about something that hasn’t even happened, though. Go, Lois," Agnes urged, giving her a little shove toward the elevator. "Go see that young man of yours. Tell him you're sorry. Grovel if you need to. But don’t let love get away from you. I did once, and I’ve never forgiven myself for it."
Lois stopped. With a slight frown, she regarded the woman who had tears of regret sparkling in her eyes. Lost love was something she’d never heard Agnes talk about, and it surprised her to see the woman so emotional. She was usually such a rock.
"Agnes," she began, unsure of what to say. "What do you mean, you let it happen once?"
But Agnes shook her head and made a valiant effort to pull herself back together. "Right now this isn’t about me. Maybe someday I’ll tell you about it. Right now, you have a plane to catch."
And with that, Agnes shoved Lois toward the open elevator with more force than expected from a body so seemingly frail. Then the woman smiled and wiggled her fingers at Lois, staring at her in stunned silence.
"You tell that Clark ‘hello’ for me, you hear?"
The elevator doors slid shut, and Lois was alone. She adjusted the leather carry-on bag on her shoulder and then crossed her arms. Agnes’s words of encouragement filled her head. ‘I’ve always found it’s easier to stay mad at someone you don’t see. I bet he takes one look at you and all will be forgotten.’
Lois sighed. Only time would tell. And when she got to Metropolis, she could only hope that Agnes was right.
**********
to be continued in part 20...
