Chapter 14
Back in the kitchen with Martha, Lois' eyes fell to the cups and saucers and teapot left on the table from their earlier chat. She took a deep breath, trying not to feel a bit stifled by the reminder of why they were here in Smallville in the first place. The air was stale with the tough emotions, but at least the lingering scent was that of Martha's earlier cookie baking.
As if she'd been reading her mind, or more likely, feeling similarly, Martha moved to open one of the windows. "I know it's cool out, but it does get a bit warm in here with the stove going and the oven on," she said.
Lois wondered if the ambiguity of that statement was Martha's way of letting her choose the tone and topic of the conversation or if she was merely doing what she always did when she turned on the oven. Lois didn't cook enough to know for sure, but knowing Martha, Lois would bet all her money on the former.
"You must cook every day," Lois exclaimed, coming to the sudden realization that small town living meant no fast food or delivery. She definitely would have ordered take out on a day like this. "Doesn't that get exhausting?"
Martha let out an airy chuckle. "Well, not every day. That's what leftovers and sandwich fixins are for, dear." She smiled at Lois as she started pulling items out of the refrigerator and pantry. "Besides, Maise's isn't too terribly far away if we want a night off."
Lois gathered the dirty dishes from the table and brought them to the sink. "Still, just the thought of cooking that much stresses me out."
Martha chuckled again as she breezed past the sink and handed Lois a sponge and pointed to the dish soap before she could even ask where they were.
"Oh, I enjoy cooking," Martha said as she got her prep space set up. "For me, it's relaxing and sometimes meditative. And when Clark was growing up, it was a great bonding experience, teaching him how to cook and bake and appreciate all different sorts of foods."
"That's so sweet," Lois replied a little wistfully as she soaped up and then rinsed the dishes. She was still just trying to wrap her head around the idea of a relationship with Clark, let alone...She shook her head to push the thoughts away. Too soon. Much too soon. So there was no reason to be even remotely bothered by the fact that she lacked this skill to pass onto...
"So, do you cook at all? Even a little?" Martha asked casually. She finished with chopping the raw chicken and set it aside for the moment.
The woman had to have the intuition of...whatever had really great intuition. Lois was grateful for the interruption to her wandering thoughts.
"Hah. Nope," she declared as she moved away from the now drying dishes so that Martha could wash her hands. "Well, I guess that's not strictly true. I did make parts of a Christmas dinner last year. I decided to not be a moper and have friends over for dinner and a whole to do." Lois smiled at the memory, especially the memory of who'd shown up. "I was actually really proud of myself. I followed the recipes carefully and didn't even burn anything!"
"That's great, Lois!" Martha turned to look at her, a warm smile on her face. Then she gestured that she needed to get into the cabinet behind Lois. "I remember Clark saying it was really good," she said as she grabbed a large skillet and then set it on the stove.
Lois gasped and her eyes went wide. "Oh!"
"What, dear?" she asked, concerned.
"Clark...he lied. Well, I knew that he lied. But he lied…about lying, sort of. I just thought..." She was a bit stuck for words, trying to wrap her head around the revelation. "Oh," she said again softly, frowning. He hadn't given up Christmas morning with his folks after all. "He told me his flight was snowed in."
A look of understanding crossed the older woman's face. "Ahh, I see." She moved closer to Lois and put her hands on her shoulders. "If it helps, I promise you that the sentiment was the same. That next morning...he came home with the brightest smile I'd seen in a long time. He would have given anything to have that night with you."
Lois' breath caught at the sincerity in her tone. "Really?" she asked, her voice a trembling whisper.
"Really." She brought her in for a tight hug and rubbed her back soothingly. Martha pulled away slowly. "That boy...well, he'd give you the moon if you asked for it."
She let the tears that had been threatening start falling, but now they were tears of relief and the overwhelming feeling of love. "I guess there are going to be a lot of moments like that that I'll remember. How do I keep from being angry with him?"
"Don't!" She laughed.
Lois couldn't help but smile even though she wasn't quite sure what she meant. "Huh?"
"Be mad! Give him a piece of your mind." Martha grabbed an onion and some garlic as well as a fresh knife and cutting board. "I love my son to death, but if I could, I'd tan his hide for how long he kept his secret from you."
Lois laughed through the tears.
"Here," Martha said, handing her the knife handle and ushering her towards the cutting board. "If you managed to make stuffing, I'm guessing you can cut an onion. You're already crying anyway." She winked and smiled broadly at her.
"Oh, Martha!" she said. "What would I do without you?"
"Well, you're not going to find out for quite some time. Now chop," she commanded with a twinkle in her eye.
"Yes, ma'am." The woman's smile and merriment were infectious. "What are we making, anyway?"
"Butter chicken, a traditional Indian dish," Martha answered as she pulled spices off the spice rack on the wall. "Though if you're used to eating in restaurants and having take out, you probably know it as murgh makhani."
"Mmm! Yes, I've had that before," Lois said. "But, wow...you can really make it?"
Martha nodded and proceeded to rattle off the ingredients as she warmed up the skillet and put some butter in it. "Chop some onions, garlic, and the chicken. Throw in a bit of chicken broth, curry powder, turmeric, coriander, cumin, chopped tomatoes, and sour cream, and you're good to go."
"That's all, huh?" Lois asked, amused at how simple it didn't sound to her own ears.
"It's not terribly hard. I mean, if you really want to complicate things, the chicken is supposed to be tandoori chicken, so it should technically be pre-cooked, but I'm skipping that step tonight."
Lois couldn't hold back the laughter, and Martha turned around to give her a curious eyebrow. "Sorry," Lois said between giggles. "It's just that you're sounding a bit like Clark and his tea brewing now."
Martha paused for half a second and let the comparison filter in. Then they were both laughing.
A deep and amused voice cut through the laughter. "Do I want to know what's so funny?"
They both turned to find Clark standing in the entry to the kitchen, smiling at their cheerful moment. She put down the knife and brushed her hands off on her pants so she could go hug him. She hadn't seen that smile in too long.
She gave him a quick embrace and then pulled back, patting him on the chest. "Oh, just how very much like your mother you are, my love, and how fastidious you are about making tea."
His mouth opened and shut, and he looked as though he really wasn't sure whether to be amused or offended. "There's nothing wrong with making tea the right way!" he insisted.
The women burst into another fit of giggles, Lois falling against him and laughing into his chest.
"Hey," he cried, clearly having chosen to be offended, though there was an undeniable undercurrent of joy in his voice. "The right brewing temperature and technique makes a difference, especially when it comes to the Gong Fu method. The flavor profile is totally different than when you just dump everything in a pot with hot water."
The laughter erupted anew, and she half suspected Clark of protesting further just for their reaction. Against his chest, she could feel him laughing, too. She moved her arms to circle around his waist, and he closed his arms around her.
As her laughter subsided, she looked up into Clark's eyes. The love and the adoration she found there stole her breath and her heart. This was new, this look. She'd caught a hint of it before, over dinner during their first date, but the depth of love here and now was beyond anything she'd experienced before. She'd only ever dreamed of someone loving her like this.
She reached up to stroke her fingers across his smooth brow and then down to rest her palm against his cheek. Her voice just a whisper, she said, "I love you so much. It's good to hear you laugh."
He responded by leaning down to kiss her, deeply but briefly. And then in for another, slightly longer kiss. A little breathless, he rested his forehead against hers and smiled. "I think my mom's watching us," he whispered.
Lois blushed and ducked her head into the hollow of his neck, leaning the rest of her body against his and wrapping both arms around his waist once again. She whispered against his neck, "I think she might be wondering why I stopped helping."
She heard a sniffle, and they both looked over to find Martha dabbing at her eyes. "Well someone had to finish chopping the onions," she offered by way of explanation for her tears.
Lois had finished the onions, and the garlic, too, for that matter. If Clark realised, and he'd probably figured as much since everything was already simmering in the skillet, he didn't let on. He just smiled sheepishly and said, "Sorry for distracting her, Mom."
Martha tsk'ed, her smile belying the annoyance they all knew she was feigning. "Well, if you’re going to be in the kitchen, you’re gonna help. Grab the naan out of the fridge and heat it up. And show Lois where the plates and utensils are so she can set the table."
Lois felt a little like they'd been teenagers caught necking on the couch, but she couldn't say she minded one bit. In fact, she waited until Martha's back was turned and reached her hands down to grab his butt suggestively.
She watched in flirtatious amusement as his eyes opened wide and he glanced toward his mom to make sure she hadn't seen. "Lo-isss," he hissed, his voice barely a whisper.
She gave another light squeeze before letting go, and then she started walking toward the cabinets as if nothing had happened. "Which one," she asked Clark, throwing a wink at him over her shoulder.
He pointed mutely, his mouth still agape. Lois smiled to herself as she grabbed four plates from the cabinet and started setting the table. She would have never pegged herself as the flirty type, but she just couldn't seem to help herself with Clark, especially now that they'd been intimate. And seeing his smile again…oh, it was a balm to her aching heart. They both needed the laughter and the levity.
Just after she'd found the silverware drawer with Clark's help, she heard Martha gasp.
"Clark Kent, you'd better not be about to use your heat vision! You know perfectly well it doesn't taste the same that way. The oven is already preheated anyway."
"Okay, okay, Mom!"
Lois just laughed and smiled as she finished setting the table. Seeing him happy, seeing him laugh, seeing him get yelled at by his mother...Made her heart soar.
"Good grief," Martha continued. "You'd think being so persnickety about your tea, you'd be a little more discerning about my naan!" She swatted him with the dish towel as he put the naan in the oven. "Now go get your father and tell him dinner's almost ready."
"Yes, Mom," he said half dejectedly, half smiling. He started walking towards the door.
Lois grinned mischievously to herself, and she issued a sultry whisper so low only Clark would be able to hear her, "I want you all to myself later."
He tripped mid-step, but managed to catch himself before crashing into the door frame.
Martha turned from the stove to see what the commotion was. "Clark, are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Mom. Just lost my balance. I'm going to get Dad now." He dashed out the door at not-quite super speed.
Lois did a poor job of stifling another laugh, trying to cough and clear her throat afterwards. Martha gave her a suspicious but amused side eye but said nothing and just turned back to the stove to tend to the skillet, humming to herself merrily.
"Is there anything else that needs doing, Martha?" Lois asked after she'd finished collecting herself and straightening the just-set table.
"There's a pitcher of iced tea in the fridge, and the glasses are up there." She gestured to a cabinet up to the right of the stove.
Lois set about getting the rest of things set up for dinner, and she wondered if this is what it was always like at the Kent house. So happy and full of love and acceptance and humor. Yeah, they'd not much more than an hour ago had a serious and emotionally heavy conversation, but they'd handled it all together. As a family.
No yelling. No casting blame and insults about, aiming for the easiest target. No storming out and not coming back for days on end. No needing to grab your little sister and hide out in the bedroom with the music cranked up to protect her from hearing the worst of it.
The tea and glasses settled, she settled herself down at the table as well. She worried at her bottom lip, Martha still humming an unknown tune in the background. She knew a big part of her fear or relationships had come from witnessing her parents' marriage implode and fall apart, collateral destruction be damned.
But here? She remembered Martha's unconditional and instinctive support of Jonathan when he'd revealed a decades-old bombshell. Jonathan's gentle admonishing of Clark's rudeness to his mother. All three Kents' playful banter and affectionate teasing. She held no illusions that things were always so effortless here. Clark's trauma was proof enough of that. But everything here seemed to just...work.
Could it really be like that? Or was there just something magical about the Kents? But then...if there was some otherworldly luck bestowed on this family...that...included her now, too. Didn't it?
Surely there was no going back, not after last night, after today. But what exactly did forward look like? Did Clark need to focus on healing? Should their relationship take a back seat? Would she be able to survive it if that was what he needed?
A hand came to rest on her shoulder from behind, followed by Martha's calming voice. "Are you okay, dear?" she asked as placed a basket of naan on the table and walked around to stand next to Lois.
She turned to smile at Martha. "Yeah, I'm okay. It's just…been a really long two days. So much has happened in so little time. It's a lot to process."
Martha gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I can imagine," she agreed. "Well, you and Clark should stay here as long as you need."
"Thank you, Martha. You really are a lifesaver."
"By the way…" she started hesitantly. "I do like to tease Clark, and I know he needed it today more than ever, but I wanted to apologise for making assumptions." She paused before continuing. "You two are okay in the same room?"
Lois ducked her head and blushed. "Yeah," she said, her voice soft and small. "I mean, it's still all very new, and…not exactly planned."
"It never is, dear." She gave her a warm smile, a twinkle in her eye. "And you don't have anything to explain or justify."
"Why does 'thank you' seem so inadequate? I can't even imagine what I would have done, what we would have done without you and Jonathan."
Martha's eyes took on a watery sheen, and she reached her hand to smooth Lois' hair before placing a kiss on top of her head. "You just love my boy like you've been doing. That's all the thanks I'll ever need."
The front door creaked open then, and Jonathan and Clark finally entered the kitchen. "Is supper on yet? I'm famished!" Jonathan said, patting his ample belly as he settled into the chair opposite Lois.
Martha took the seat on one side of Lois. "Sure is! Clark, can you grab the butter chicken and bring it over to the table?"
Clark nodded and then complied with his mother's request. He sat next to Lois, scooting his chair a bit closer to her. He grabbed the pitcher of iced tea and started pouring for everyone while Martha and Jonathan plated and passed the butter chicken around the table.
Lois smiled at the feeling of comfort settling over her. She couldn't remember the last time she had a family dinner like this. She took a piece of warm naan from the basket and tore off a bit, using her fingers and the bread to pinch up a bit of chicken and sauce. "Oh, wow. This tastes great, Martha!"
"I'm glad you like it. And thanks for helping make it!" she said cheerfully. "So, Lois, you never told us how you figured out Clark's secret. I'm dying to hear all the details!"
Clark started choking next to Lois, and her eyes flew over to him. He coughed and cleared his throat several times in an effort to recover. "She's an award-winning reporter, Mom." He cleared his throat again and took a quick sip of tea. "Say, is that a new painting I saw in the living room earlier?" he blurted out.
Lois pursed her lips and cleared her own throat, but she was stuck for words.
Martha raised her eyebrows and gave Clark what must have been her signature Mom Look because she watched him whither a bit under her stare. She didn't even have to say a word.
"Don't look at me. Ask Lois!" he floundered.
"Honey, I did ask her," Martha pointed out, amused. She turned back to Lois and asked, "So, how did you figure it out?"
Lois blushed little, and said, "Well, Clark--"
"Lo-isss," Clark whimpered, cutting her off, his eyes wide and doing a poor job of hiding the fact that he'd prefer his parents not know exactly how and when.
She fixed him with a loving but pointed stare. "Clark forgot to put his glasses back on."
She watched Martha and Jonathan share a knowing smile, though she wasn't quite sure what they thought they'd guessed. It didn't matter; she knew Martha enough by now that she wouldn't push the subject further.
Lois reached for Clark's knee under the table and gave it a reassuring squeeze but let it linger there because she'd already missed touching him. He covered her hand with his own and gave her a bashful, apologetic smile.
