LAST TIME:
“Good morning, Clark,” Lois replied. Her sweet smile lit up the room. “Do you want me to make us some breakfast?”
“I’ll put on some coffee.” Clark had heard the rumors about Lois’ cooking. Perhaps *he* better make the breakfast.
* * * * * NOW READ ON...
The phone interrupted their breakfast shortly after. Lois jumped a little at the sound of the ring. “I’ll let the machine answer it,” she murmured, munching on a piece of toast.
After the tone, Lois heard her sister’s frantic voice. “Lois? Are you there?! I just got back to Metropolis. Mom left, like, fifty messages on my voicemail. I... heard--what happened. I know you’re there, Lo; come on, just pick up the phone.” Lucy would have kept on talking, but Lois decided she’d better answer it.
“Lucy... hey. I’m doing... okay, I guess. I *feel* fine. No, I’m not hurt or anything. It’s... complicated. Lunch? Sure--I’ll tell you about it in person. No, I haven’t been alone. Clark’s here.” Lois lowered her voice. “*Yes,* overnight. *No,* not like *that.*” Lois was becoming aggravated. “Stop it, Luce. Will you just--” She rolled her eyes and released an exasperated sigh. “All right, twelve-thirty is fine. Yeah, we can do that, it might be fun. Sure. See you then. Bye.” Lois hung up the phone.
“Leave it to Lucy to be more excited that I had a man spend the night...“ Lois said, returning to her breakfast. She dragged her toast through the runny yolk of the fried eggs Clark had prepared.
“She’s concerned about you, Lois. That’s obvious,” Clark replied.
“Oh, I know she is. She insisted on seeing me today for lunch,” Lois said, taking her fork and knife into her hands.
“That will be nice for you.” Clark watched, amused, as Lois elaborately cut up her eggs into equal-sized pieces.
“She says we’ll get our nails done afterward, that it will help relax me.” Lois’ current tension levels were aroused as she struggled to pile her perfectly cut egg bits on an uncooperative and soggy piece of toast. Even the simple act of eating breakfast had become stressful.
“Maybe it will, Lois. I think it’s a good idea.”
“My sister is such a... girl sometimes.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Clark said, giving a small shrug. “You’re pretty girly yourself, sometimes.”
“I am not,” Lois protested, crossing her arms defiantly.
Clark grinned. “Look at your pajamas.”
Her pink lace-edged tank top and feminine floral pajama pants spoke for themselves.
* * * * *
Clark left before Lucy showed up, promising he’d return for dinner. It would give him time to put in a few hours at the Daily Planet. Perry had been extremely understanding about Lois’ situation, and he even insisted Clark stay with her for a few days. Still, Clark felt the need to get some work done. Afterward, he would pack an overnight bag and stay over at Lois’ apartment if she wanted him to.
Lois took a shower while he was gone. She was in the mood to look halfway decent, and took care styling her hair just the way she liked it. She had been pretty lax about her looks since the incident. Even though she was a natural beauty, she enjoyed wearing makeup. After applying some earth-toned eye shadow, blush, and lipstick, she stood back and admired herself in the mirror, deciding she looked pretty good. Maybe Clark was right; maybe she was a girly-girl after all.
She donned a tan pair of corduroy pants, a brown sweater, and matching boots. Just as she was fastening the zipper on her boot, there was a knock on the door. “I’m coming,” she called, hopping up to answer it.
Lucy Lane heard the sounds of three locks being unbolted before the door swung open. She said nothing, but threw her arms around her sister’s neck.
“Hey, Lucy,” Lois said, hugging her sister back.
Lucy released Lois from her embrace. “Lois, you look... wow.”
“What did you expect?”
“I--I don’t know,” Lucy stammered. She certainly hadn’t expected Lois to look *great.* But here she was, looking as if nothing was wrong. “I guess I thought--”
“You thought I’d be in bad shape,” Lois stated defiantly. “Well, I’m not. Everything’s fine now. Really.”
“That’s good to hear.” Lucy did not sound convinced, but she played along. “You were very lucky. I wish I had been here when it happened. My stupid phone--”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lois said casually.
“Do you think you can identify the guy?” Lucy asked.
Lois frowned. “I was unconscious, Lucy. I don’t remember any of it. I was drugged, remember?”
“Oh. Right. It was pretty hard to figure out what Mom was saying on the phone messages. She was hysterical.”
Lois shuddered, despite trying to look unaffected by everything. “What do you want to do about lunch?” she asked, eager to change the subject.
* * * * *
The Lane sisters ended up at their all-time favorite diner. It was quite the greasy spoon, but it was worth the trip. Lucy found Lois to be pleasant and talkative when they weren’t discussing her attack. It seemed she was eager to keep her mind off of what had happened. Lucy got a cold headache from drinking her strawberry milkshake too fast, and Lois was quick to make fun. ‘She seems to be acting like herself,’ Lucy noted. ‘Maybe everything is all right after all.’
Lucy insisted on paying for lunch, and Lois gulped down the last of her chocolate malt quickly. “Agh!” she cried, drawing a hand to her forehead. “Brain freeze!”
Lucy nearly fell out of her chair laughing. “Ha! And you had the nerve to make fun of *me!*”
The sisters left the diner in good spirits. “I love this nail salon; I go every week,” Lucy announced as they approached the bustling salon.
“Wow, they sure do some good business here, for such a small place,” Lois noted. She looked through all of the colors and selected a cranberry shade. Lucy was taking a long time choosing. Lois sat in the next available seat and the manicurist began filing her nails.
Lucy seated herself beside Lois as soon as she chose her polish. “Isn’t it relaxing, Lois?”
The manicurist was starting an elaborate hand massage. “Mmm, yes. You were right, Luce. This is nice.” She could imagine all of her stress and tension exiting through her palms.
The nail salon was filled with activity. Just then, three women entered the salon, chatting loudly as the manicurist started painting Lois’ base coat.
“Did you hear,” one of them said, “about the woman that died on the subway?”
“Oh, God, yes. How terrible,” her friend answered.
Lois’ heart leapt, her chest tightening.
“What a horrible way to go. She didn’t even know what hit her. And to be raped while you’re drugged? Disgusting!”
“What a sick-o.”
Lucy watched Lois intently. Her sister’s hands were shaking now, and the manicurist struggled to steady them enough to start applying the red paint. “Lois,” Lucy said softly.
Lois didn’t hear her. Her eyes were fixed on the three women gossiping.
“The first victim survived, you know,” one of the women announced.
“The second one, too.”
“Imagine living through that. How awful. Knowing you were molested in your sleep like that.”
“I don’t know what I’d do.”
“That poor woman.”
Lois stood up abruptly, withdrawing her hand from the manicurist. “I... I have to go.” She tossed a ten-dollar bill on the table and pushed past the three gossips, her fists clenched at her sides. Storms raged in her eyes, at no one in particular. She jogged to the car, unlocked it, and sat down in the driver’s seat fuming, glad to be alone with her thoughts.
Lucy was bewildered, as were the other patrons and manicurists in the salon. “I should go, too,” Lucy said gently. She withdrew her hands from the warm water they’d been soaking in, and paid the manicurist. As she passed the three women, she looked over her shoulder. “How dare you talk about my sister like that.” Three jaws dropped in synch. Lucy let the door slam in their faces before hurrying over to Lois’ car and stepped in.
Lois’ eyes were fixed straight ahead, and her hands, white-knuckled, were gripping the steering wheel. The car wasn’t even turned on although it was freezing cold inside. Lucy studied her older sister; only half of her nails were painted, all of which were smudged all over her hands, making them appear bloodied. She could see the silent rage furrowing Lois’ brow and making her clench her teeth.
“Lois,” Lucy started softly.
“*Don’t,* Lucy,” Lois said through gritted teeth. She pushed the key into the ignition roughly and sped off to her apartment without saying another word. She didn’t stop Lucy from following her up to her apartment when they arrived.
Lucy decided to try talking to Lois again. “Do you have any nail polish remover?” she asked weakly. “And cotton balls? I’ll help you fix your nails.”
“Yeah, under the bathroom sink,” Lois muttered, finally looking at her hands. They were a mess. She sighed heavily and sank into a chair. Lucy reentered the room with the supplies. She sat beside Lois and gently took her sister’s hand, scrubbing her nails clean with an acetone-soaked cotton ball. She worked silently and carefully. It was Lois who finally broke the silence.
“I’m sorry about... what happened in there,” she said, as if admitting defeat.
Lucy looked her sister right in the eye. “Lois, have you gone to any counseling yet?”
“No, I--”
“Well, you need to,” Lucy said, firmly.
Lois became defensive. “I can’t believe you! My own sister--!”
“Yeah,” Lucy shouted back. “Your own sister, who cares enough to try to help you! Lois, don’t you see? You are having *serious* problems with this! You cannot go around pretending everything is okay.”
“I’ll be fine in a few days,” Lois grumbled.
“No you won’t. If you keep trying to ignore this, it’s only going to get worse. Please, Lois.”
“Stop harassing me.”
“I harass you because I love you. You’re killing me here, Lois. My big sister, the one I always looked up to. And here you are, making a big mistake. You have to listen to me.” Lucy managed a little grin. “For the first time, I’m right and you’re wrong.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“You’ll never know until you try going. Maybe there’s a support group? Or you can go to a one-on-one counselor. I’ll go with you if you’re scared.” Lucy gave her sister’s hand a little squeeze. “You need to do this, Lois. I know you’ll get through this. You just need a little help.”
Lois studied Lucy’s concerned expression for several seconds. “Fine. I’ll go.” She allowed Lucy to embrace her warmly. Finally, she added softly, “I love you, too, Luce.”
Satisfied, Lucy changed the subject. “So,” she began, “what about this *Clark* guy I keep hearing so much about?!”
Lois felt her cheeks redden.
* * * * *
