Previously:
The rest of the semester passed quickly. Clark and Lana both aced their finals. That was when they found out they were both in a four-way competition for class salutatorian and valedictorian. The other two candidates for the senior class’s top two scholastic honors – a pre-med student and an English major – were both smart, highly driven over-achievers with chronic sleep deprivation. Clark was pleased simply to be in the mix, but Lana wanted them to secure both honors.
“Clark, it’d be great! We’d both be able to pick our spots. We could set ourselves up as independents, or plug into almost any organization in the country! The University of Kansas may not be the archaeology capital of the nation’s schools, but graduating at the top of the entire class is a feather in anyone’s cap!”
He frowned. “Lana, I’m not into that kind of competition. Besides, I’m not sure I want to be tied down to a regular job. I’m sure you won’t be, not if you get any of the digs you’re looking for.”
She frowned back. “That doesn’t matter! I’m thinking of your career as well as mine! Unless you want to take the money out of the Superman Foundation discretionary fund, you’re going to need a job in a few months, and being in the top two of your college class is a great way to get a good one! Who knows, maybe the Daily Planet will hire you full-time instead of just buying your stuff when they feel like it.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, Lana. It’s not that I wouldn’t appreciate it, it’s just that I don’t think I need it.”
She softened her tone. “Will you at least try? I would dearly love to stand beside my husband on that graduation platform, one of us valedictorian and the other the salutatorian. It would make a wonderful story to tell our kids and grandkids.”
He smiled. “Well, when you put it that way, I understand. Sure, I’ll do my best. I can’t guarantee anything, now, you understand?”
She hugged him. “Of course I understand! You just do your best, I’ll do mine, and we’ll leave those nerds behind us eating our scholastic dust!” She kissed him enthusiastically. “Now let’s finish getting ready for that wedding celebration. Dad has really rolled out the red carpet for us, and we shouldn’t keep all those people waiting.”
And now:
***** Chapter Nine
Clark exited the limo and handed Lana out, then looked down at the crimson-colored path to the hotel entrance. “I thought you were kidding about the red carpet.”
Lana looked around at the wonderland surrounding them. “So did I. Well, we might as well get this done.”
He smiled at her. “You know, I’d marry you all over again if I had the chance.”
She pulled his arm close. “You’ll have that chance in less than an hour, smooth talker. You’d better be as good as your word.”
He was. They repeated their vows before Reverend Matthews and their families and friends, including a pregnant bridesmatron – Charlene, due in four months or so – and an overly proud groomsman – her husband, Brent. Then everyone moved into the reception hall, where a six-piece combo played old standards and more contemporary music. Clark and Lana had worn the same clothes they’d worn on their first wedding day, and they danced to the first tune, “Save the Last Dance for Me.” Lana was so ecstatic she found it difficult to stay on the floor, even without Clark’s natural buoyancy.
The guests joined in on the second song. It was a bit of a joke from Lana’s father, as the large group of people in formal wear began moving and shaking to “Tequila.” Everyone shouted out the name of the song at the appropriate places, and the ice was broken. The party was a grand success.
Clark led Lana to the cake table, where they fed each other – without smearing any on either’s face – and toasted each other with fruit punch. They kissed for the photographers and smiled as the guests made their way through the receiving line.
One of the last to pass by them was Lana’s mother. Lana put a plastic smile on her face and embraced her mother at arm’s length.
“Oh, sweetie, you look so beautiful! My little girl’s all grown up!” She sniffed theatrically and dabbed her eyes.
“Thanks, Mom. This is my husband, Clark.”
“Of course he is! I remember him! You will take good care of my little girl, won’t you, Clarkie?”
Clark took her hand and held it. “So far, she’s done a pretty good job of taking care of me.”
She laughed louder than the joke warranted. “You still have your sense of humor, Clarkie! I like that. Call me Carolyn, won’t you? Lana, dear, did you and Clarkie get our present?”
“We haven’t looked at the presents yet, Mom.”
“You’ll love it, I know! I bet it’ll be your favorite! Oh, Clarkie, have you met my husband, Robbie? Robbie, this is Clark Kent, my new son-in-law.”
The chubby, medium-sized man looked up at Clark and stuck out his hand. “Good to meet you. Robert McConnell. I’m in stocks and bonds.”
Clark shook his hand. “Sounds restrictive.”
Robert looked at him closely, then grinned at Lana. “Hey, girl, you got a live one here! I haven’t heard that old chestnut for quite a while, maybe as long as a week!” He slapped Clark hard on the shoulder, then pulled his hand back as if stung. “Whoa. You work out, Clark?”
“Not really.”
“You should, especially while you’re still young. Keep that physique as long as you can. You know, you get a little older, your muscles start to sag a bit, your wind gets a little shorter, and first thing you know the wife is getting a face-lift and – ”
Carolyn’s eyes bulged and she yanked on his elbow. “Come along, Robbie, let’s let the kids mix now. I’m sure there are a lot of people they want to talk to.”
“Okay, sweet cheeks. See you kids later.”
“Nice meeting you, Robbie.”
Robert threw a quick glance at Clark over his shoulder as Carolyn escorted him around the room. They quickly vanished into the sea of formal wear.
Lana hugged his elbow. “Welcome to my world, Clarkie.”
He smiled down at her. “I guess it could be worse.”
“Maybe. Well, that’s Mom and the weasel. They were on their best behavior tonight.” She squinted at him in mild alarm. “Dad didn’t stock a wet bar, did he?”
“Just champagne, and the servers have strict orders to limit everyone to a max of two glasses. He doesn’t want any drunks here, either.”
“Good. Maybe Mom won’t get sloppy tonight.”
He leaned down and kissed her. “Let’s concern ourselves with ourselves, okay? This is our night, after all.”
She grinned and kissed him back. “Not yet, but I’m pretty sure it will be pretty soon.” She pressed his hand to her lips. “Time to schmooze, dear. I’ll see you later.”
Lana began making the rounds of the people there, making sure everyone was introduced to everyone else and that all the ‘important’ people were properly stroked. Her father caught her after a few minutes and led her back to Clark with another man in tow.
“Clark, Lana, I want you to meet Doctor Samuel Lane. He’s a physician specializing in amputee research and prosthetic replacements. I met him last year in Africa. He was doing research there among some of the tribes, looking for herbal and holistic medicines to help his work. He’s applied for a grant from the Superman Foundation to continue his research. Sam, let me present my daughter Lana, and my son-in-law Clark Kent.”
Dr. Lane shook hands with them. “I’m pleased to meet you both. Dennis has told me so much about you. I understand you’re both in the running to stand on the graduation platform in June.”
Lana stepped forward. “Yes. We plan to be the first married couple in school history to earn those spots in the same year.”
“I’m sure you’ll make it. Oh, I’m sorry! Please let me introduce my research assistant, Mindy Benton. Mindy, this is Clark and Lana Kent.”
Mindy’s eyes grew huge inside the impossibly blond ringlets framing her face. “Ooh! I’m like, so really, really happy to make both of your acquaintances.”
Clark stifled a chuckle as he shook Mindy’s hand. “Glad to meet you, Mindy. Have you worked with Dr. Lane for long?”
“Oh, no, just a few weeks, actually. Right now I’m more of a glorified secretary than a research assistant. I’m really a registered nurse, you see.”
Lana nodded. “That can be a challenging field.”
“Oh, it is, especially with all the sick people today.”
Neither Lana nor Clark had any response to that comment. Before Lana could regain control of her jaw, Dr. Lane took Mindy’s arm and guided her away. “Please come this way, my dear. There are some bankers I’d like you to meet.”
Mindy’s squeal of delight as she wiggled into the crowd left Lana totally flummoxed. Clark leaned down and whispered, “I think she has more hair than brains.”
Knowing that Clark would hear, she whispered back, “Only if you think her brains are in her head instead of on her chest!”
Clark choked on his ginger ale and spilled it. “Oops. I’ll have to get another. You want something to drink, hon? Dennis?”
Dennis shook his head. “No thanks. I have to go talk to a money man myself.” He kissed Lana on the cheek. “I hope this event isn’t too wearing on you, Kitten, but you look wonderful tonight. Thank you both for indulging me.”
“I’m a pretty strong girl, Dad. And thanks. And – how are you doing?”
She locked gazes with him. He sighed deeply. “Pretty good, actually.”
“Mom’s not twisting your guts in a knot?”
He canted his head to one side. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Never mind. How about it?”
He smiled ever so slightly. “I still have regrets, probably will for the rest of my life, but I’m not clobbering myself over her any more. I think you and Clark have helped me there.”
She smiled. “I knew we were good for something.”
“Oh, you both are, Kitten. You two have a good time. I’ll check back with you later.”
“Okay, Dad. See you then.” She turned to her husband as her father slipped through the crowd. “Hey, Clark, how about a glass of champagne?” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m a legally-of-age married woman, Clark, so don’t give me that look.”
He nodded and smiled. “I suppose it is a very special evening. One glass of champagne for my favorite bride, coming up.”
“I’d better be the only bride you have, mister.”
“Well, I did promise to keep you away from all my girlfriends. Saves on jail time and lawyer fees.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms. “You know, you can take a joke too far.”
He was immediately filled with remorse. “Lana, honey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean a word of it. I was just trying to be funny. Please forgive me.”
She tilted her head to one side. “I’ll think about it. Now, what about my champagne, oh loving husband?”
He looked into her eyes and saw the amusement dancing there, then kissed her on the nose. “Whatever my lady desires. She need but name it and it is hers.” He kissed her forehead lightly and gently held her elbows. “I love you.”
She tried for a flippant tone, but her heart overruled her head and she answered in a low, husky voice. “I love you too, my darling husband.”
He slid his hands down her arms as he slowly moved away. “Be right back, okay?”
He winked and smiled. She watched him maneuver to the drink table, then turned to observe the crowd. Her attention was drawn to a tall, dark-haired woman about her age, wearing a floor-length red gown. Something in the woman’s slightly exotic appearance touched a chord in Lana’s memory, but Lana couldn’t place her. The memory was faint but disturbing, like a half-remembered nightmare from her childhood.
The woman noticed Lana staring and smiled, then walked towards her. “Hi. My name’s Lois Lane. You’re Lana Lang-Kent, aren’t you?”
Lana nodded. “Yes. Nice to meet you, Lois. Um, you know, you look familiar to me, but I can’t place you. Have we met before?”
Lois frowned and studied Lana’s face. “You look familiar to me, too, but I don’t remember meeting you either. Maybe we’ve seen each other in passing somewhere.”
Lana shrugged. “Probably. Your last name is Lane?” Lois nodded. “Any relation to Dr. Samuel Lane?”
“Father and daughter.”
“I see. So, did you follow your father’s footsteps into the medical field?”
“No. I’m a journalism major, like your husband.”
Red flags went up in Lana’s mind, and she didn’t know why. “Journalism? Where do you go to school?”
“Metropolis University in New Troy. I’m a senior, due to graduate this spring.”
“With honors, I assume.”
Lois smiled. “Not as high as yours, but I made the Dean’s list every semester.”
“That’s still nothing to sneeze at. What do you write about?”
“I’m an investigative reporter. I find out who’s doing things in secret and bring them out into the open.” Lois sipped her drink and fixed Lana with a stare. “There are those who don’t like me very much because of that.”
Bombs bursting in mid-air joined the red flags in Lana’s head. “I can certainly understand that.”
Lois froze for a moment, then smiled tightly. “Yeah. Anyway, I was hoping to talk to you privately for a few minutes.”
“Well, this is my formal wedding reception, and I think my husband and the other guests might miss me if I just up and disappeared.”
“Of course.” Lois nodded. “I understand. I’ll be here for a few days with my dad. Maybe we can get together between now and Christmas.”
Lana shook her head. “I don’t know if I’ll have the time.”
Lois twirled her glass. “I’d think the owner of Digger Enterprises would be able to make the time.”
Lana tried to control her reaction, but she could tell that Lois liked what she saw in her face. “What – makes you think I’m the owner of – that company?”
“The corporate filing papers in the Cayman Islands. See, my father, the fox hunter – “
“Fox hunter? I thought he was a doctor!”
Lois lifted her eyebrows. “Didn’t you see his latest hunting trophy? Mindy something-or-other?”
“Oh. Oh! Yeah, I met her.” Lana leaned in closer, hoping to distract the other woman. “I can see why he likes her. She’s got brains.”
“Huh. I’m glad someone thinks so.” Lois sipped her drink and refused to be sidetracked. “Anyway, he applied for a grant from the Superman Foundation last summer and they said they’d consider it. They hadn’t come through by Thanksgiving, so I did a little investigating on my own. Everything I’ve found so far is perfectly legal, but I wonder why it is that you can get money from the Foundation any time you want.”
The flat statement stunned Lana. “Why – why did you even look?”
Lois shrugged. “I was curious. And apparently no else had bothered to look, so I was treading unplowed ground. And my question stands.”
Lana was still a little off balance. “What question?”
“About your access to Superman’s draw account from the Superman Foundation.”
Lana hoped she had her voice and face under control. “I really can’t comment on that, Miss Lane, especially under these circumstances.”
Lois smiled. It was a surprisingly pleasant smile. “I understand. Maybe we could meet later, say, sometime this weekend. I’d really like your side of this story before I write it.”
“Who’s going to print it, your college newspaper?”
“They’ve got the first shot, of course, but I’ve already talked to the New York Standard and the Washington Review. All I’ve told anyone is that there’s something funny going on at the Foundation, nothing shady or illegal – as far as I know – just something very odd. They’re both quite intrigued.”
A deep male voice abruptly intruded on the pair. “I can imagine.”
Both women spun around to see Clark standing beside them. He handed Lana her drink and nodded at Lois. “Hi. I’m Clark Kent. You’ve already met my wife, Lana. Who are you?”
He spoke in a normal tone, but his expression was intense. Lois’s face slackened slightly and she took a short step back, but then she recovered. “Lois Lane. I was just talking to your wife about a story I’m working on.”
“Miss Lane, if there are any stories to be written about my wife, I’ll gladly do it.”
“I’m talking about hard news, Mr. Kent, not the fluffy touchy-feely cotton candy pieces that float out of your word processor.”
“Excuse me? Cotton candy? Fluffy touchy-feely pieces?”
“Yes. I read your articles on that dig in Kenya. You should have focused on how difficult it is to find qualified student assistants instead of holding the sponsors up as martinets.”
“I wrote what I saw and what I heard. I don’t publish rumor or innuendo.”
“And you’re insinuating that I do?”
“It sounds like you’re considering it.”
“I’m considering writing the truth.”
“Before you gather all the facts? You must drive your professors crazy with your conspiracy theories.”
“It’s not a theory if I can prove it!”
“I don't think you’re looking for proof.”
“And I don’t think you can see past the ring in your nose that you think is on your finger!”
Clark’s face darkened even more and he took a step towards Lois. “I think you should leave.”
“And why should I do that?”
“Because I don’t think I like you very much, Miss Lane.”
Lois’s eyes sparked and her brow drew down. “I don’t much care how you feel about me, Mr. Kent. I’m working on a story and I’m not about to let go of it.”
Clark’s eyes narrowed and one hand clenched into a fist. “Back away from my wife, Miss Lane, or you’ll care a great deal.”
Lana stepped between them and nudged them apart. “Hey, gang, I enjoy a good war as much as anyone else, but maybe this is a little public for this kind of fight. Why don’t you each go to neutral corners and wait for the bell?”
Lois held Clark’s glare for a few seconds more, then spun around and stalked away. Lana watched her go with a sigh of relief.
“Clark, I’ve never seen you get that mad that quick at anybody! Are you okay?” He didn’t answer. “Clark?” His stare was still tracking Lois Lane.
Lana snapped her fingers beside his head. “Come back to earth, okay?”
“Ow!” Clark flinched and put his hand to his ear. “Lana, you know that stings. When you know I’m listening hard to something, please don’t snap your fingers that close. It sounds to me like a gunshot beside your head would sound to you.”
She held his arm. “I’m sorry, babe, but I had to bring you back somehow. You okay?”
Clark took a couple of deep breaths and nodded. “I am now. Thanks.”
“What happened there?”
He shook his head. “I – I don’t really know. It was like an instant clash of personalities.”
“Well, I thought it was about to be a clash of something else. You weren’t really going to hit her, were you?”
“What? Hit her? Me?”
“Your fist was closed.”
Clark looked at his hand as if it had a mind of its own. “Wow. I didn’t even know I’d done that.” He turned it. “You mean – I looked like – I was going to – “
She pressed his hand to her lips. “It’s okay, darling. Nothing happened. No one’s hurt. And you’ll control yourself better next time.”
He tilted his head down at her. “I sincerely hope there isn’t a next time.”
Lana looked up and saw a flash of red moving resolutely towards the exit. Something told her it wouldn’t be the last time she and Lois Lane crossed paths. Or maybe swords.
Something one of her psych professors had once said popped into her head. “Remember, the emotions of love and hate are two opposite sides of the same coin. They are the strongest emotions you will ever feel. If, by your action or inaction, you kill the love in someone, it will often turn into hate. And if you see two people who clash at first sight, often there is some kind of strong, immediate attraction at work, and they don’t know how to handle it so they pick a fight with each other. So be careful about the ones with whom you argue! People will talk!”
The class had laughed, Lana included.
She wasn’t laughing now.
*****
Two nights later, Lois was up late at her hotel, re-working a portion of the story about the Superman Foundation, when a knock sounded at her balcony window. She frowned. Who’d be on her balcony at this time of night?
She pulled the curtains back and peeked out. Superman was standing on the railing with his arms folded across his chest. She was too stunned to open the door until he floated down to the balcony deck.
“Excuse me? You are Lois Lane, aren’t you?”
She nodded slowly.
“Can we talk for a few minutes?”
She nodded again.
He sighed. “Do you want to come out here or should I come inside?”
“Oh. Oh, yeah! Please come in!” She yanked the door open and stepped back. “It’s cold outside and there’s no sense in you standing out there by yourself and freezing your – “
“I don’t really get cold, Miss Lane.”
“Oh. Right. Um, can I get you something?”
“What do you have?”
She suddenly remembered that she was in a hotel room, one which did not have an honor bar. “Uh, you want a cup of water?”
“No, thank you. I’m actually here to talk about my foundation.”
“Oh. Oh, right! Look, I’ve got transaction records from your draw account, checks made out to El-El Investments for the last three years, and most of that money goes right to Digger Enterprises, and the sole owner is Lana Lang-Kent, and she’s married to an ill-tempered jerk who can’t take constructive criticism and she won’t talk to me about –“
Superman held up his hand. “Miss Lane, I’m aware of the money going to El-El Investments. I also know that Mrs. Lang-Kent is supporting scientific research and museums with that money. Did you know that?”
She nodded. “Of course I did. But the fact that she’s covering this up suggests a reason beyond mere shyness. Do you know why there are so many layers between her and the Foundation?”
He stepped to the desk where Lois’s papers were spread out. “To keep nosy people like you away from her. She’s a college student and a newlywed, and she values her privacy. I don’t imagine you’d want the kind of scrutiny on you that you’re about to bring to her life.”
Lois turned and began to think about that. She stepped across the room and turned back. Superman was looking at her notes, and he had what appeared to be a surprised look on his face until she spoke. “So why are you here? Who is she to you that you’re defending her?”
“I’m not here to defend her, Miss Lane. I’m defending the Foundation. If this story comes out as you’ve outlined it, people might lose confidence in the directors and their decisions. The Foundation supports or helps to support eleven hospitals, fifteen free clinics, two children’s rehab hospitals, and twenty-nine foreign medical establishments, plus various other occasional charitable projects. I didn’t find anything about them in your most recent draft.”
She raised her brows in surprise. “You read it that fast?”
“Yes. Now, I can’t force you to drop this story or even change it, and I’m not going to try. All I can do is ask, for the sake of the children the Foundation helps every day, is that you get all the facts before you print this story. I don’t think a byline is worth the damage that could result from an inaccurate account.”
She crossed her arms in unconscious imitation of his posture. “Superman, surely you believe in freedom of the press?”
“Of course I do. I also believe in personal responsibility. Are you willing to be responsible for the consequences of your actions?”
“The people can judge the truth for themselves!”
“Really? What if I had come in here by the front door? What if someone had seen me? What conclusions might that someone draw about our relationship?”
“What? That – that’s not the same thing! We don’t have a relationship!”
“True, but if people knew I’d been alone with you in your hotel room, Miss Lane, they might draw the wrong conclusion simply because they don’t have all the facts. Do you think they’d listen to your protestations of innocence and believe you to be honest and sincere and not involved with me?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it instead. “No,” she admitted grudgingly. “I’d probably end up on the front of every tabloid in the nation as Superman’s girlfriend, with obviously faked lurid pictures included.”
“I take it, then, that I’ve made my point?”
“So now you’re threatening me with blackmail?”
It was Superman’s turn to look startled. “Blackmail? No! That was only an illustration. I assure you, I won’t tell anyone about this meeting.”
Lois frowned. “I’m not sure I like that. What if I want to discuss it with someone?”
“You can tell anyone anything you want, Miss Lane. I will neither confirm nor deny the veracity of your assertions.”
“I see. You don’t give anything away, do you?”
“I try not to. I ask again, have I made my point about your story on Lana Lang-Kent?”
She turned away and huffed, then said, “You have. I won’t print any of the story unless I have the whole thing.”
“Thank you. That’s all I ask.”
She turned back in time to see him slip out the balcony door. “Good night, Miss Lane.”
And he was gone. She locked the patio door and pulled the curtain closed, then looked at herself and grimaced. She’d finally met the legendary superhero, and she’d been wearing jeans, no shoes, and one of her father’s old plaid shirts. She’d removed her makeup an hour before and tied her hair back with a rubber band. Not only that, she hadn’t asked him any questions to go with her story. Oh, she’d made a terrific impression on him, for sure.
*****
Lana was waiting for him in bed, wearing a short, slinky nightgown. “How’d it go?”
“I think she’ll hold off on the story, but I don’t know for how long. She’s like a mad dog when it comes to her investigations.” Clark pulled off his boots, then hung his cape over a chair. “I think you should talk to her.” He tugged his shirt up and over his head. “Ecch. I also think this uniform needs a trip through Mr. Washing Machine.”
She smiled. “I’ll talk to her if you think that’s best.”
“I do. And make sure you tell her the truth. About the Foundation, I mean. I’d really rather you didn’t tell her you’re married to Superman.”
“You think she’d believe me?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but she might print it anyway. How much privacy do you think we’d have after that?”
Lana lost her smile. “Yeah. Talk about your tight scrutiny. Can you say ‘under the microscope’?”
“I’d rather not. Anyway, that’s then and this is now. I’m tired.”
She sat up by the edge of the bed and reached up for him. “Then come here and let the little wifey rock you to sleep.”
Clark didn’t move towards her. “I have to ask you a question first.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“The article draft I saw in Lois’s room states that your personal net worth is in excess of one hundred thousand dollars. Not our net worth. Your net worth. Is that true, Lana?”
Her smile dimmed slightly. “None of that comes from the Foundation, Clark. It’s all mine – ours, I should say, from my dad’s savings account and our joint savings. Bob helped me build it up. He’s very good a picking winning stocks.”
“Please answer my question. Is your personal net worth in excess of one hundred thousand dollars?”
She dropped her arms. “Yes. Is that a problem?”
“I don’t remember you telling me anything like that in our most recent financial discussion.”
“Clark, I – you want to hear every little itty-bitty tiny detail every time?”
“I don’t consider your net worth to be a little itty-bitty tiny detail.”
She scowled. “Does it bother you that I’m worth more than you?”
“It doesn’t bother me that you control more money than I do, no. What bothers me is that you didn’t share the information with me.”
She lurched backwards and crossed her arms. “I suppose you’d prefer a submissive wife who walks three steps behind you and disappears in your shadow!”
“I want a wife who keeps her word.”
“What? When have I broken my word?”
“When you told me you’d share important things with me. I can’t conceive of any circumstance where your net worth is unimportant, especially since you’re the money manager of the family.”
She threw the covers back and stood up. “Yeah? You want financial control? You think you can do better?”
Clark crossed his arms. “No, I don’t. In fact, I’m sure I can’t. You’re the money whiz in this family, not me. I’m a good saver, but I’m not a good investor. You are. You’re way better at that than I am, and I’d be stupid to do something poorly when you do it so well. I just want you to let me know what’s going on.”
She glared at him. “I suppose you want veto power on my investment decisions, too!”
He sighed. “No, Lana. I only want to be informed. I just want you to do what you’ve already agreed to do.”
She stood there staring at him for a long moment, then whipped her robe off the bed. “I’m not sleepy. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“As you wish, Lana.”
As Lana stormed into the kitchen, she cursed herself for being a fool. She should have simply apologized and promised to keep him in the loop from now on. Instead, she’d made their money situation a point of contention. She still didn’t think she’d done anything wrong, she just hadn’t gotten around to telling Clark all he thought he needed to know.
It was his farmer’s upbringing, she thought. Farmers have to know what’s going on all the time, or something will get away from them and cost them money they can’t spare. She thought about the Kent farm, how neat and trim it always was, and how Clark and his parents were always building something or repairing something or painting something or maintaining something. Farm life had never appealed to Lana, and her father’s spare lifestyle as she was growing up had infused her with a desire to be wealthy or close to it. After her mother left her father – an honorable and loving but economically marginal man who spent a great deal of time away from home – for a weasel whose only attractive quality was the size of his bank balance, Lana became determined that no one would ever leave her because of her lack of money.
Now her abundance of money was causing friction between herself and the man she loved more than anyone else. She didn’t know what to do about it, so she made herself a cup of hot chocolate and sipped it while watching an old screwball comedy on TV. She found herself sympathizing with the tame leopard in the movie. She wished someone would take care of her problems as easily as the leopard’s. All anyone had to do for the leopard was to walk her every day and toss raw meat into her cage at mealtime. Her old fears of being left alone began making themselves known again.
Lana refused to be alone. She also refused to be poor. She hoped, ultimately, that the two conditions weren’t mutually exclusive.
*****
Lana woke up slightly and thought she was either dreaming or flying, then she realized Clark was carrying her. She reached up and put her arms around his neck. He kissed her on the nose.
“Hey, wonderful man of mine. What time is it?”
“About two-thirty. Shh, it’s time for sleeping.”
She tightened her grip and fought down a sob. “No. It’s time for me to say that I’m sorry. I don’t ever want my money or your money or our money to come between us.”
He stopped. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have let it get to me.”
“I love you, Clark. Believe it or not, I’d rather have you than a hundred billion dollars.”
She felt him smile. “I love you, too, and I believe you without reservation. Can I get you anything?”
“You can come here and be with me. Please?”
He lowered her to the bed and untied her robe. “Your wish is my command, my lady. May it always be so between us.”
She pulled him to her. “May it always be so, my wonderful man.”
As he kissed her, urgently and passionately, she banished her fear of Lois Lane from her mind. Clark was hers, now and forever more.
