Chapter Twelve
Lana was ushered into the museum director’s office by a prune-faced older woman named Prudhomme Smith whom Lana was sure she’d seen in some bad fifties-era monster movie. She was surprised to find that the director was a younger version of Paul Newman, complete with glittering blue eyes. His nameplate identified him as Doctor Roger Bean, Managing Director of Acquisitions. She managed to look calm, cool, and professional as the secretary repeated her name and the reason for her visit in funereal tones.
The man stood and gestured to a chair in front of his desk. “Ms. Lang-Kent, please sit down. Thank you for coming in today.”
“Thank you for seeing me. I know I don’t officially start until next Monday, Dr. Bean, but my husband and I are in town now and I’d like to get up to speed as soon as possible.”
He smiled and returned to his chair as she sat. “An excellent attitude. My impression of you from reading your application and checking your references is that you’ll have this office or one like it before very long.”
She nodded. “I don’t deny that I’m ambitious, sir, but I can assure you that my ambition doesn’t include stepping on people. I’ve been around enough archaeologists in the field to know how museums sometimes treat them as if they’re not the extremely vital first link in the whole chain.”
He raised his eyebrow. “Very direct, but still mostly diplomatic. You should go far in the administrative side, should you choose to focus on it.”
“Thank you.”
“You do plan to begin your master’s program immediately, do you not?”
“Of course. One of the reasons I came here was for the chance to do a lot of my post-graduate work either on site or here, in conjunction with some of the best and brightest in the field. You fall into that category, too, Dr. Bean.”
“Thank you. What do you anticipate your job description to be?”
She sat back and crossed her legs. She was pleased that Bean’s eyes didn’t flick down to her knees. “I understand that I’ll be working with new acquisitions, setting up and maintaining displays, and watching over the loading dock. Anything else I’m responsible for is gravy, as far as I’m concerned.”
He frowned slightly. “It’s gravy?”
She smiled. “Sorry. Midwestern slang, meaning additional good things.”
“Ah. Well, then, some of the ‘gravy’ you’ll be lapping up – that is the proper term, is it not?”
“It’ll do.”
“Good. Some of the ‘gravy’ –“ he smiled at the term “ – will be following me around and getting to know what I do on a daily basis. You’ll be taking over for me when I’m out of town on museum business.”
Her eyebrows rose. This was new. “Oh? How often does that happen?”
“Oh, three to five times a year, and you’ll have a few days warning. I’m usually back within ten days or so, but we still need someone here to make the decisions that won’t wait.”
“I see. In that case, I intend to step on your heels as often as I can, especially for the first few weeks.”
He smiled thinly. “I look forward to our association, Mrs. Lang-Kent.” He stood. “Perhaps I should show you around, introduce you to some of the staff. You’ll be working with these people in a few days, and it would be best if they didn’t call security to have you thrown out.”
She nodded and stood. “I’m ready when you are.”
He led her outside and officially introduced her to the alien in the outer office. Lana decided that Miss Young’s primary reason for being there was to cut down on unnecessary visits to the director, and that she was very good at performing that particular function. That woman could scare off a pack of werewolves.
She smiled at Lana, which didn’t improve her visage in the slightest, and shook her hand. The handshake was cautious, as if Miss Smith preferred to keep people away from her. If Lana hadn’t spent so much time with Clark, and not proof-read so many of his interviews, she would have ignored this little indicator. Instead, it lodged in her mind and increased the new-job trepidation factor even more.
Lana and Roger – he’d switched to first names on the initial introduction – meandered through the administrative area, shaking hands and challenging her memory for names and faces. They went down to the clean and prep floor, where Lana’s field experience would come in handy. She met the people who were preparing items for exhibit, and she complimented them on their handling of the items. She also impressed them by not touching anything or making any immediate suggestions for improvements.
They ended their tour at the delivery dock. Bean said, “Well, this is where everything comes in. We can handle three extra-long eighteen-wheelers at once if we need to. Our security system is first-rate, and the ramp and doors are each less than a year old. Our security chief has nineteen years of law enforcement experience.”
“Nice. Very nice setup.” She looked closely at the overhead doors and their guides. They looked slightly worn, but still fairly new. In fact, the guide wheels and the insides of the guides were quite worn. She glanced at the floor and noted fresh tire marks.
“May I see the delivery log, Roger?”
He tensed up. “Why?”
“So I’ll have some idea of how often we’ll get a new delivery. I don’t want to be surprised and have too many or too few people on duty at the wrong time, now do I?”
He smiled and exhaled, apparently relieved. Lana couldn’t figure out why he’d be relieved at her answer. What could he possibly be worried about?
He handed her the log, which showed eleven deliveries in the past ten weeks, and none for the last eight days. Not enough traffic to have worn the doors that badly. Or recent enough to have left that many tread marks.
She handed the log back to Roger. “Thank you. That looks about like I expected. Is there anyone else you think I should meet?”
He pursed his lips in thought, then shook his head. “The only place you haven’t walked through is the cafeteria. It’s closed this late in the afternoon, but it opens promptly at six every morning except Sunday. They serve hot lunches until one, and keep a cold sandwich bar open until two-thirty. The place is clean and they have a fair selection of food for a company cafeteria.” He leaned closer and spoke conspiratorially. “I’m not supposed to say this, but it’s a bit over-priced and not the finest quality. Not that it’s bad, mind you, it isn’t, but it isn’t five-star cuisine either.”
“It’ll be a pleasant change for me. You forget I’ve been living on college cafeteria food for four years.”
He blinked at her. “I’m sorry, I thought you were married.”
“I am, but they don’t make you valedictorian because you can whip up an omelet or bake a cake.”
“Unless you’re in the master chef program.”
“I can assure you that I wasn’t. I won’t kill anyone with my cooking, but I’m not planning to open a restaurant either.”
Roger chuckled good-naturedly. “Well, that’s the end of the nickel tour. I’ll show you out.”
She gave him her best gamin grin. ”In that case, I’ll see you bright and early on Monday morning, Roger. Eight o’clock?”
He returned the smile. “If you show up that early, you’ll give the Employee Relations director a coronary. Nine o’clock is fine. I’ll call her and tell her you’re coming in then.”
They shook hands. “Nine o’clock it is, then. I hope you don’t mind if I’m a morning person once I get going.”
“Not at all. I’m a night person myself, but that’s certainly not an employment requirement. Our required hours are nine to four, but you can show up as early as you want, or do what I do and stay late. Welcome to the Metropolis Museum of Natural History, Lana. I’m sure you’ll be a real asset to us.”
*****
Lana walked up beside Clark just as he got to the hotel front desk. He turned and whistled at her suggestively.
She frowned at him and spoke in a prim, Victorian maiden’s voice. “Sir, please! I shall have you to know that I am a lady!”
He leaned on the counter and spoke like a movie mobster. “Yeah, I can sure see that, babe. You waitin’ for your Prince Charming or what?”
“No. I have already found him. In fact, he is meeting me here this very night.”
He leered at her. “Yeah? What if he don’t show?”
Lana feigned discomfort for the benefit of the diminutive young female desk clerk, who was watching their exchange through huge eyes. “He – he will be here, sir, I am certain of it. Now please do not bother me any more.”
“Okay, sweetheart, but you’re missin’ out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” He turned to the clerk. “Ya got a reservation for Kent, good-lookin’?”
“A re-reservation for K-Kent? I’ll ch-check and – I’ll check it.” The girl tapped the keyboard and looked at the computer screen. “Yes, here it is. You – reserved a double room, sir?”
Clark smiled lecherously at her. “Just in case I got lucky, sweetheart.”
Lana took his arm. “Sir, you are indeed a fortunate man. I have changed my mind. I would like for you to show me a – oh, what is it called? Oh, yes, a good time.”
Clark reached out and took the card key the young clerk had just programmed and led Lana off to the elevator. Out of the corners of their eyes, they watched her try to keep her eyes from bouncing off the desk and rolling around on the floor. Clark called over his shoulder in a classic English accent, “Do send up our luggage, won’t you, my dear?”
Lana kept her composure until the elevator doors closed, then she collapsed in near hysterics against the wall of the car. “We gotta stop doing that in public, Clark! One or both of us is gonna get arrested!”
“What a way to go.”
*****
They put away their clothes and debated on dinner, but Lana’s heart wasn’t in it. Clark finally sat her down on the bed and asked, “Okay, what’s bothering you?”
She frowned. “Nothing. At least I think it’s nothing.”
“Oh. Well, that certainly clears that up.”
She pouted at him until he hugged her. “Honey, it isn’t you or the room or anything here. It’s something about my job.”
He looked at her blankly. “It’s a museum. What could be wrong with it?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I have, like there’s more than one thing going on there.”
“You think they’re fencing hot mammoth bones or something?”
“No! Forget it, forget I said anything. It’s probably just new job nerves or the difference between Smallville and Metropolis or something like that.”
Clark nodded. “Maybe. You keep your head up anyway, okay?”
“Okay. So, where are we eating dinner tonight?”
He grinned at her. “It’s an Italian surprise.”
*****
“This is wonderful pasta, Clark! How did you find this place?”
“I was walking around this afternoon, trying to get a mental picture of the city, and I overheard an argument in Italian in the hallway. I looked in and saw two of the waiters yelling at each other over splitting a tip, so I walked in and asked them if they knew of a good place to eat.”
She grinned around her fettuccini. “So you didn’t do anything – special?”
“Nope. They fell over each other telling me all about Mama’s Pasta Retreat, so I told them I’d bring my favorite lady here one night soon to try it out. By that time, they were best friends again.”
Lana nodded. “Very cute. Thanks for bringing me.”
“No problem. I’ll bring my favorite lady another night.”
Lana froze and slowly swung her glare onto Clark. The glitter in his eyes dared her to start a food fight, but she restrained herself just in time. “Sir, were you to bring your ‘favorite lady’ here, and she were not myself, I would follow you and strangle her with your shoelaces while you ate.”
“Shoelaces?”
“I’m certain she wouldn’t bother to wear a bra.”
Clark let his grin show. “You know, I believe you would.”
“You can take that to the mortgage company, bub.” She took another bite and made more ‘yummy’ noises. “Speaking of the future, you didn’t tell me much about your interview, except that Mr. White didn’t exactly hand you the keys to his office.”
“No, but he was encouraging, and he asked me to keep in touch. I’m going to send him an article on spec about Mama here.”
“On spec? Refresh my memory.”
“Speculation. He doesn’t know it’s coming and he may or may not buy it.”
“Right, I remember now. So tell me why Mama is such a good subject for a story.”
“She came to Metropolis from Italy as a little girl right after World War II. Her father died fighting with the Italian Army against the Russians, and her mother married a sergeant with the U.S. Army unit that occupied her village. She remembers the wedding and the ship that brought them back to the States and how her stepfather started Sarge’s Italian Victory Stand in nineteen forty-seven with three hundred dollars borrowed from his father. They worked very hard all their lives, and they’re now in Florida soaking up the sun on the beach facing the Gulf of Mexico.”
He stopped long enough to scoop up another big bite. “They sold the business to Mama and her husband about eight years ago. Mama’s four sons either work here or have worked here since they were old enough to clear tables until they went to college. Her husband runs the kitchen and she’s the hostess. They’re listed in the New Troy tour guides as one of the best places to eat in the entire state.”
Lana smiled and covered his hand with hers. “That’s a marvelous story, Clark. Mr. White will buy it or he’s an idiot! Especially after you write it. You have such a way with words.”
“That’s why you married me, isn’t it?”
Her eyes softened. “I married you because I love you and you love me.”
He glanced at her, surprised at the tenderness she’d expressed. “I do love you. And I’m glad you picked Metropolis and not Kenya.”
“Me, too. I don’t think Mama delivers there.”
He leaned over, cupped her face in his hand, and kissed her. “I don’t care. I’d be happy with you anywhere we were.”
She had no response, at least not one she could display in public.
*****
They planned to house-hunt the next day. Just before they left for breakfast, the phone in the room rang. Puzzled, Clark answered.
“Hello? Oh, yes, Mr. White, this is Clark. No, not yet. I have a piece for you to look at, though. This afternoon? Two-thirty? Sure, I’ll make a point of it. Thank you for calling! No, I’ll drop the story off at the front desk this morning. That sounds great! See you then.”
Clark put down the phone and turned, beaming. “I think I’m gainfully employed now.”
Lana clapped her hands and jumped up and down twice. “That’s great! That’s wonderful! Tell me all about it!”
“One of his feature writers turned in his resignation yesterday afternoon to be the feature editor of a daily in a small town south of Atlanta, and Mr. White immediately thought of me. Assuming I pass muster, I’ll start on a rookie salary like any other newbie, but at least I’ll be working for a nationally known newspaper.”
“Oh, Clark, that’s wonderful!” She jumped into his arms and knocked him backwards onto the bed. “I’m so proud of you!” She kissed him deeply, then jumped to her feet. “Come on! Now we have two good reasons to get our own place!”
He stood and looked around. “Yeah. No place to hide spare super-suits here.”
“It’s a good thing you don’t sweat unless you want to. You must be hot with that suit on under your clothes.” She toyed with his shirt buttons. “Want me to get you out of those hot clothes and cool you off?”
“Not if we want to find a place to live today.”
She put a mock pout on her face. “Oh, bother, you’re so practical!”
*****
Perry White bought Clark’s article that morning and hired him that afternoon. Fortified by a job and a check for his story, Clark listened with half an ear to the apartment broker telling them how hard it was for newcomers to adjust to the pace of life in Metropolis and how shocked they always were when they found out how expensive housing was. Lana apparently believed the woman simply didn’t want to get out in the evening heat without a good prospect of closing a deal.
She leaned forward and zeroed in on the broker. “Mrs. Marsten, we are here in Metropolis to stay. We have a room in the Westin that’s more expensive than we’d like and less permanent than we’d prefer. We want an apartment here in the city. If you can’t or won’t help us, we’ll find someone else who will.”
The woman leaned back, apparently surprised by the vehemence of a Kansas transplant to the big city. “Very well. I have three or four properties I can show you. When would be the most convenient time?”
“What about right now?” Lana demanded.
“I have a family too, Mrs. Kent. Two boys, ages eleven and fourteen. They are expecting me to prepare dinner for them. I hope that is not too inconvenient for you.”
Lana bristled, but Clark put his hand on her arm. “Would tomorrow morning be a good time, Mrs. Marsten?”
The woman hesitated, then nodded. “If you and your wife will come to my office at eight-thirty tomorrow morning, Mr. Kent, we will begin the paperwork.” She looked pointedly at Lana. “I do not think you will have as much trouble in Metropolis as had I first thought.”
Lana nodded and stood. “Have a good supper with your sons, Mrs. Marsten. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Lana left the office so quickly Clark almost had to super-speed walk to catch up to her. When he did, she didn’t say a word, she just marched to the front door of the building and banged through it. Briefly, she looked for a taxi, then turned and stomped along the curb, muttering to herself.
“Stupid cabbies not here when I need them there oughta be a law not hungry that stupid room better be clean – “
Clark grabbed her arm and tugged her to a stop. “Lana!”
“What’re you yanking on me for?” She pulled loose and started walking again.
“I called you three times and you didn’t answer. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!”
He skipped in front of her but she dodged around him. “What did I do?”
“You didn’t do a thing! Now let’s get b-back to the stupid hotel before they close the stupid cafe!”
Helpless to stop her, Clark followed in her wake. They speedily walked the fifteen blocks back to the hotel in silence.
Lana stalked right through the lobby and ran up the stairs to their fourth-floor room. Clark took the elevator, sure that she needed a few moments alone, but when he turned the corner to their room, he found Lana sitting on the floor in front of the door, holding her key card in her fist and crying.
He rushed to her. “Honey! Are you hurt? Did someone attack you? Did you trip? What happened?” Lana didn’t respond, except to put her arms around his neck and squeeze tightly, then cry even harder.
Rather than deal with whatever was going on in the hallway, Clark awkwardly opened the door and carried her in. He placed her on the bed and tried to disengage, but she grabbed him with a frenzied strength and refused to let go.
He rubbed her back and tried to comfort her. “Lana, I’m here. I love you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, baby, I’m here.”
She finally wound down and loosened her grip, and Clark used the opportunity to lay her down on the bed and pull her shoes off. He pulled a coverlet over her and sat beside her. She grabbed both of his hands and tried to squeeze the blood out of them, and her tears started again.
Clark was nearly beside himself. He couldn’t figure out what was wrong, couldn’t figure out what he might have done or not done that might cause his wife to come completely unglued. He knelt down beside the bed, put his head next to hers, and again tried speaking gentle words into her ear.
This time it worked. She settled down after a few minutes. Clark knew he’d only have a short time to find out what had happened to set her off, so he watched and listened and waited.
Lana closed her eyes and blurted out, “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”
Even worse. He had no inkling what she thought she had done, so he remained silent, stroking her hair and kissing her hands.
She took a shuddering breath. “It’s all my fault, Clark.”
He couldn’t stand it any longer. “Lana, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. You’re going to have to explain it to me.” He kissed her lips. “Please?”
She nodded. “I can’t have kids for a while.”
“That’s it?” She nodded, and he frowned at her. “Lana, I still don’t – “
“I – I wanted to make sure we didn’t have kids for a while.”
“Oh.” Thoughts of terminal diseases and crippling surgeries flooded his mind. “Is there something wrong now, something that wasn’t wrong before?”
She sniffed. “No.”
“I see.” He thought hard for a moment, then surrendered. “No, I don’t see. I still don’t understand. I’m sorry I’m being so dense.”
“No!” She grabbed his face and then looked deep into his eyes. “You’re not dense! You’re wonderful and I’m a louse!”
“You’re not a louse, Lana, you’re – “
“Listen to me! It’s my fault. It’s all my fault!”
Clark barely restrained himself from asking what the heck did she think was her fault. Lana took another deep breath and continued. “We – I can’t have kids for a while.”
He waited for a moment. “You said that already.”
“I didn’t say why.”
“No, you didn’t.”
She took a deep breath. “Bob.”
Clark closed his eyes and sat up. He was losing patience with this situation, one he couldn’t control either with or without his powers. “Lana, if you want me to understand what is going on, tell me! Tell me straight out.”
She rolled onto her back and sat up against the headboard of the bed. “Bob did it, but I asked him to. He g-gave me a – a treatment, I guess, and I can’t have kids for two thousand days from our wedding day.”
“Two thousand – that’s almost five and a half years.”
“Yes.”
Clark still wasn’t clear on what had triggered her crying jag. “So, Bob fixed it so you wouldn’t get pregnant for a while?” She nodded. “Is this what this – this outburst is all about? Is not being able to have kids a problem all of a sudden?”
Her eyes filled but her voice remained steady. “While we were still in school, I knew a baby would slow down our careers, hurt our chances of getting good job offers. I knew you’d want to be totally involved in our baby’s life, even if it made you less available for all the things you do, including the super things. So, when Bob gave me the chance to make sure our lives stayed on track, I jumped at it. And don’t blame him. It was my choice, not his.”
Clark frowned. “Why would I blame the globe? It’s not alive.”
She wiped her cheeks with both hands. “But I made the decision without consulting you. I was wrong, Clark, I was so wrong. I’m so sorry.”
He embraced her. “Darling, it’s okay. I’m pretty sure humans and Kryptonians can’t have kids anyway.”
“Bob says the probability is above sixty-five percent.”
Clark froze in her arms, then he leaned back. “You mean – it’s possible?”
She sniffed and nodded. “Yes. Not a sure thing, but it’s possible.”
“Wow.” His eyes popped. “I never even asked.”
He drifted away for a moment, thinking of what it must have been like for his father to send him away forever. He got a glimpse of the agony Jor-El must have felt when he put his infant son in the rocket that sent Kal-El to Earth. He perceived a glimmer of the reason there was such pride in Jonathan Kent’s eyes when he looked at his adopted son. Clark decided that kids were a given in their future, somehow, some way. He’d make sure of it.
Right now, though, his wife was still hurting. He snapped back to the present. “Lana, what’s done is done. I’m not angry with you or at you or at what you did. Believe me, I’m not. I wish you’d talked to me about it, but I can’t say I’d have advised you to do anything different. We’ll just take this in and make it a part of the ‘us’ that’s growing together. Who knows, maybe we’ll just be a family of two for the rest of our lives. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
She embraced him and wept again, but these tears were for relief and for cleansing. When she finally ran down, she murmured against his shirt, “Thank you, my darling.”
He hugged her as tenderly as he knew. “I love you. I can do nothing else but love you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry I got your shirt so wet.”
He kissed her forehead. “I can get a new shirt. I can’t get a new wife.”
*****
They had dinner sent up. Lana picked at her food. Finally, she stood. “I’m sorry, darling, I’m just not hungry.” Then she looked at him shyly. “I kinda ruined tonight, didn’t I? I mean, we’re not celebrating your new job or going apartment hunting or any of this new stuff and – “
He captured her hand. “It’s okay, Lana, I promise. Tomorrow is a new day. We’ll just get some sleep and be ready for it.”
She smiled. “Thank you.” She started to turn away, then stopped. “You know, I’d almost forgotten about what Bob did – what I had him – what I did. When I heard that woman talk about how she had to get home to make dinner for her kids, and when I thought about her showing us apartments and asking us if we’d need rooms for babies, it all just came back and slammed me. I’m sorry I put you through all that.”
“It’s okay, babe. Honest. I’d rather go through it with you than let you go through it by yourself.”
She looked at her feet. “Thank you. Do you mind – would it be okay if you just – just held me tonight? I need to know you’re there for me.”
He stood and kissed her tenderly. “I will always be there for you.”
*****
Lana was in an altered state the next morning. She engaged Mrs. Marsten in friendly conversation, and after they got past the awkwardness left over from the previous evening, the two women exchanged personal information while Clark filled out most of the paperwork. Lana found that the woman’s first name was Elena, that she had come to the U.S. from western Rumania when she was nine, that her husband had been a flight instructor and had died six years before in a crash caused by a panicky student, that her sons were named Andre and Michael, the boys were both science whizzes, and that she had made a Chinese pasta dish the night before. Lana wormed the recipe out of her before Clark signed the brokerage agreement.
They bounced out of the office before nine-thirty, Clark trailing the two women. He smiled as he thought about how volatile Lana was, and that she made a good compliment to his steadfast and even temperament. Once again, he offered up thanks to whatever agency had brought them together. Despite the constant challenges, he was thrilled to be her husband.
They smilingly turned down the first two properties, nodded a qualified ‘maybe’ on the third, and fell in love with the fourth. It resided on the top floor of a six-story building, and it had a balcony, two large bedrooms and two baths, huge closets in each bedroom, a study, and a spacious and well-equipped kitchen. The building had underground parking and a large freight elevator. It was also beside a main bus line, and there was a cab stand half a block away. The only minus Lana could come up with was that it was a long trip from the apartment to the museum, and only a little closer to the Planet.
Clark’s minus was the monthly cost. He gulped audibly when he read the rental agreement.
“That’s the rent? For just one month?”
“Yes, Mr. Kent. Why?”
He shook his head. “Granny Hamner told me never to pay more than fifteen thousand dollars for anything unless it had a basement.”
Lana giggled, then explained. “Basements are just about required for Kansas residents as tornado shelters. And Granny Hamner is Smallville’s resident historian. Her father would have ridden up San Juan Hill in Cuba with Teddy Roosevelt and the Rough Riders if he hadn’t gotten malaria. She still thinks a car that costs more than her first Model T is too expensive.”
Elena Marsten smiled at the young couple. “Let me see if I can do better than the listed price. It never hurts to ask. Besides, this whole building is under-occupied. I think I can get the owner to come down on the rent.”
Lana hugged her. “Thanks, Elena. Clark, do you think fifteen percent off the rent is still too much?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but it would make me feel less like we’re buying the water and mineral rights for the entire block, too.”
Lana laughed, and Elena joined in to be polite. “Fifteen percent is a great deal to ask, Mr. Kent. If they offer back as much as eleven percent off, may I accept for you?”
Clark and Lana looked at each other and smiled. “Lana, if you say no, we’re out the door and still looking.”
“I’m not saying no! What about you?”
“If we can get a break on the rent, I think we can afford it. You’re going to be paying the bulk of the expenses for a while until I get a few raises under my belt.”
Lana turned to Elena and smiled. “Yes! Eleven percent and we’ll jump on it! But try to get fifteen if you can, okay?”
Elena nodded, still smiling. “I will try. I cannot promise anything, but I will try.”
“Great! Hey, why don’t you join Clark and me for lunch?”
“I wish that were possible, but I have other appointments I must keep. But I expect to be invited for a native Kansas dinner after you move in.”
“Done! And you’ll have to bring Andre and Michael along. We’ll show them how farm folks behave towards their guests.”
The three of them shared a laugh. “My sons will look forward to it, as will I. Now, Mr. Kent, Lana, let us sign some more documents and talk about the two of you parting with some of your hard-earned money.”
*****
The deal went through Thursday night. True to her word, Elena Marsten had managed to wrangle a twelve-percent reduction in rent from LexCorp Properties for Clark and Lana. For the first time, they dipped deeply into Lana’s savings and paid the entire year’s rent in advance, earning them another five percent off the total cost and avoiding a security deposit. As a result, Clark and Lana were happy with a place to live, Elena Marsten was thrilled with her commission, and the executives of the management company were ecstatic at having such a prestigious young couple occupying their most difficult apartment to rent, due to its size and location.
The signed the lease right after lunch on Friday, then put the utilities in their name. They stood in their apartment, bare of furniture, gazing at all the wonderful features and imagining their furniture from their Smallville apartment filling the rooms.
Then Lana had a frightening thought. “Furniture! Clark, how are we going to get our stuff here in time to go to work on Monday morning? Superman can’t be seen doing all this moving for us! People will talk!”
He smiled. “No worries, as they say Down Under. I called both of our fathers yesterday afternoon while you and Mrs. Marsten were debating how much garlic to put in the spaghetti water and when to add it. You talk a good batch of spaghetti, by the way. Our parents are, even now, wending their way to Metropolis, driving two rented trucks which contain nearly all of our worldly possessions. They should be here about six o’clock tomorrow morning, which, being Saturday, will create less of a traffic problem than it might otherwise. Besides, we can put the trucks in the underground parking area. Yours truly will make sure no one lifts more than can be safely carried.”
She hugged him. “That’s wonderful! Thanks, love. Hey, is your mom coming?”
“Of course! She said she wouldn’t miss it for all the corn in Kansas. She’ll be doing her share of the driving, too.”
“I figured.” She stepped away, still holding his hands. “Clark, are you planning to check on them while they’re on the road?”
“I’ll look in on them from here. Your dad asked me if he could bring a relief driver, and I said sure. I think maybe his relief driver is a she.”
“You think so?” He nodded. “I’ll have to make sure she’s good enough for him, then.”
He waggled his finger at her. “Don’t scare her off, okay? Your dad deserves some happiness and companionship in his life.”
She lifted her hands in surrender. “Who, me? Scare anyone off? To whom are you referring, sir, since you certainly cannot be referring to my li’l ol’ demure, quiet, shy self.”
“Quiet, huh? I’ll have to stay away from you while our folks are here, or they’ll find out how quiet you aren’t when you’re in the throes of passion.”
She put her arms around his neck. “You know, we have that hotel room for one more night. Why don’t we see if we can shock the maid?”
He smiled and kissed her nose. “I thought we did that already.”
She nibbled on his neck. “We can try to make her jump twice as high this time.”
