While Clark returned his focus to the field, running plays and sending his kicker out to get in some practice kicks, Lois climbed the bleachers with the Kents and the Rosses, looking for a spot to sit together.
Martha laid the blanket she had brought along the cold metal bleacher, and Lois was thankful she had thought of that. Then they all sat, Lois with Clark’s parents, and Lana and her family right behind.
Lois twisted in her seat to face Lana. “I think our mission was a success,” she said with a smile.
Lana laughed. “I’d say so! Did you see his face when he turned around?”
They chatted about the team and past games against Springfield as they watched the teams warm up. The fact that both teams were undefeated going into the game this year had everyone extra on edge.
Then the teams congregated in opposite end zones and the marching band started playing the fight song, riling up the crowd even more. The announcer came over the loudspeaker and introduced the Springfield Wildcats to raucous cheers from across the stadium and a smattering of boos from the Smallville side.
“And now,” the voice boomed. “Please give a warm Smallville welcome to your 1995 Smallville Tigers!”
The crowd went wild and Lois found herself on her feet with them cheering and clapping and the team burst through the poster held by the cheerleaders and poured onto the field.
The two teams were obviously as amped up as the crowd and they both played all out as soon as Springfield kicked off. The receiver broke to the left and took off, only to be tackled before he made it more than a couple steps. Two more decisive stops and Springfield was still eight yards from a first down. The quarterback took the snap and looked downfield for a receiver, oblivious to the right tackle who had broken free from his coverage and was bearing down on him.
Two seconds later, he was sacked, and the Smallville bleachers went wild, screaming and cheering and waving their pom poms. Lois cheered with them, but her eyes were on Clark as he pumped his fist and then waved his defense off the field. The player who made the tackle went straight to him when he came off the field, helmet in hand, and she watched Clark stop to speak to him, slapping him on the shoulder.
The boy jogged off to the bench, his grin evident even from her spot halfway up the bleachers, and her heart swelled. She brought a hand to her mouth and shook her head, laughing at herself and her good fortune to be loved by a man who was adored by everyone around him. “God, I love you,” she whispered to herself as she watched him watch his offense run out on the field and get in position.
He turned, scanning the crowd for just a second before his eyes locked with hers, and he grinned.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” she whispered, her hand still covering her mouth.
He shrugged and reached up and tugged his ear subtly and winked at her.
She inhaled sharply, and he turned his back on her, focusing his attention on the field.
Behind her, Lana laughed and Lois turned to see what was so funny. Pete was shaking his head, a disapproving look on his face, but Lana was clearly delighted. Lois looked to her for an explanation, and Lana laughed harder. “He’s going to get so much crap from the guys for that. Did he seriously just wink at you from the field in the middle of the Springfield game? You better hope he wins this game, or the whole town is going to blame you for distracting him.”
Before Lois could protest or contemplate a response, she recognized the two girls climbing the stairs in their section. They were whispering and nodding in her direction, and sure enough they stopped at her row, looking past her quickly to nod a greeting to Jonathan and Martha. Hannah and Elise shifted nervously, unsure what to say now they had approached her.
“Hey, Ms. Lane,” Hannah said finally. “We heard you were here….”
She trailed off, and the girls exchanged a look and a giggle, and Lois had a pretty good idea that they had heard the news from someone who saw Clark’s reaction to her surprise earlier.
“Here I am,” she said. “How are you? It’s good to see you.”
“We’re good!” Elise said. “We didn’t know you were coming for the game. Mr. Kent didn’t say.”
“Mr. Kent didn’t know,” Lois said with a smile, and the girls turned to each other and grinned again.
“Is that…Mr. Kent’s jersey? From when he played?” Hannah asked.
Lois nodded, unsure whether she should be flattered or mortified by their resulting squeals.
“He told me you asked about me when he got home,” Lois said, shifting the subject. “Thank you. That was kind of you.”
“We were really worried about you,” Elise said immediately, her smile faltering. “And he was gone for days. He never has a sub. So we knew it must be serious.”
“Are you really okay?” Hannah asked.
“I’m completely healed,” Lois said. “I feel great…and I’m thrilled to be here, watching the game.”
The crowd erupted in cheers, and Lois turned back just in time to see the Smallville wide receiver tackled at the thirty yard line. She wrinkled her nose, realizing she missed a thirty-five yard run, and they were approaching field goal range.
“We’ll let you watch the game,” Hannah said, nudging Elise. “It was good to see you though.”
“It was good to see you too,” she said with a genuine smile.
“Hi, Mrs. Ross,” Hannah said as they turned to leave, and Lois saw Lana give them a wave and smile out of the corner of her eye before the girls trotted off.
On the field, the team lost ten yards on the next three attempts and wound up having to punt.
“That jersey is going to be the talk of the school on Monday,” Lana said, and Lois could hear the amusement in her voice.
She spun around to face Lana again. “Hey, speaking of jerseys, what’s the deal with this,” she asked, waving a hand at Lana’s jersey.
As Lois had watched the stands fill up, she had noticed that spirit wear was everywhere, but the only people wearing jerseys were men of various ages who must have once played for the team in the past and a handful of high school girls who were presumably dating members of the current team. Martha had told her that the tradition was for the current players’ serious girlfriends to wear their jerseys to their games, but she hadn’t said anything about the wives or girlfriends of past players, and Lois had understood that the reason Martha was giving her Clark’s jersey to wear was because he was the coach and was out on the field with the current players, not because he was an alumnus.
Except for Lana. She and her kids all sported Smallville jerseys that matched Pete’s.
Pete snorted and rolled his eyes as he dug through Lana’s bag and pulled out coloring books and crayons for the kids.
“Oh, can it,” Lana said.
“I had to buy her one of her own so she’d stop stealing mine,” Pete said. “She kept ‘borrowing’ it for every home game and wouldn’t even give it back for the Springfield game.”
Lana rolled her eyes. “That jersey’s as much mine as it is yours. I wore it-”
“How do you figure that?” Pete asked skeptically. “I wore it all four seasons. I only seem to remember you wearing it one.”
“That’s not my fault,” she said. “I could have worn it sooner if-”
Pete rolled his eyes again. “Here we go. Yes, Lana, I was the one who delayed us getting together. You were just pining away for me, but I was too busy playing the field to notice.”
Lana leaned over and bumped his shoulder with hers, laughing, and Lois smiled remembering the story Clark had told her of their courtship, when Lana had dated half the football team in an attempt to make Pete jealous and nearly broke his heart in the process. Lois wondered how long it would have taken the two of them to figure it out if Clark hadn’t intervened.
“Anyway,” Pete continued, his attention back on Lois. “She’s a jersey thief. She wouldn’t give it up. So I special ordered these for Christmas last year so she’d leave mine alone.”
“Don’t listen to his grouching,” Lana said conspiratorially. “He secretly likes it. One time it was in the laundry on game day, and he ran the load before he left for work so it would be ready for me.”
“I don’t remember that,” Pete said in a voice that said he absolutely remembered it.
“He loves it when I wear his jersey,” Lana insisted, wrapping her arms around his neck and gazing at him flirtatiously before planting a kiss on his cheek. “He thinks it’s hot.”
“I admit nothing,” Pete said, but he looked up and caught Lois’ eye and grinned and shrugged.
She smiled back, amused by their banter, and then turned back around to watch the game. The ball went back and forth between the two teams, never getting close enough for a field goal, let alone a touchdown.
At the end of the first quarter, the score was still tied at zero, and as the second quarter dragged on, Lois could feel the tension rising. Clark was running the same plays over and over, inching his way down the field.
“What is he doing?” Lois said, drumming her fingers on her lap nervously, as the Smallville offense ran the ball for another three yard gain.
Clark’s parents said nothing, but she could see the tension in their mouths and the creases of worry by their eyes, and she knew they were watching the game not just as fans and alumni, but as the coach’s parents.
“Come on, Clark,” she whispered. “Throw it down field.”
On the field, he shook his head, but she couldn’t tell if he was responding to her or reacting to something in front of him.
The quarterback flipped the ball to the running back, and she smiled when she recognized the last name – Culpepper – on his jersey. Travis faked left and then ran right, gaining about five yards and a first down, but they were still barely past midfield.
“There’s a huge hole in their coverage on the left side,” Lois said, ostensibly to those she was sitting with, but Clark immediately shook his head, and she knew he was listening to her.
Martha looked at her curiously, and looked back at Clark.
Three more plays, and twelve more yards, and that hole was still there. The marching band and cheerleaders had the crowd whipped into a near frenzy as halftime approached, both teams still scoreless.
“Come on, Clark,” she said. “That hole still there. What are you waiting for?”
He glanced over his shoulder, and then looked back out to the field and shook his head again. Martha and Jonathan looked from the field back to her again, and she shrugged and smiled.
Martha shook her head in amusement, clearly aware now that Lois’ comments about Clark’s play calling were not for their benefit after all.
One minute left in the first half, and the Smallville offense was on the ten yard line. The crowd was on their feet, stomping and cheering. Even Sophie and Caleb, who had been bickering over toys and climbing in and out of laps for the last twenty minutes, were now up and screaming.
The quarterback took the snap and passed it to Travis who took off running yet again. But then he stopped, pivoted and tossed the ball back to the quarterback, who fired it into the end zone – not into the hole in the left side but to the right, where coverage had been tight all night.
Caught off guard, expecting yet another straightforward run from Travis, the Springfield defense was not nearly fast enough to pivot their coverage, and the ball sailed into the waiting hands of the wide receiver, who spiked it for a touchdown.
The marching band played and the crowd screamed and Lois’ heart swelled as she watched the players on the sidelines jump and whoop and cheer as the scoreboard lit up 6-0.
The kicker came in, and the extra point was good. The Smallville fans continued to stand and cheer, as the defense lined up for the punt and sent the ball all the way to the five yard line, where the Springfield receiver signaled for a fair catch. Springfield got off one snap before time ran out, and their quarterback heaved the ball downfield, but there were no receivers anywhere nearby, and the crowd roared as the ball hit the ground, and they went into halftime with the score Smallville seven, Springfield zero.
Lois watched Clark speak quickly to his assistant coach and then his quarterback, and then the team began to trot off the field, high-fiving and crashing into each other exuberantly, as the marching band stood and made their way down the bleachers toward the field.
Then, to her surprise, Clark turned and locked eyes with her, and motioned for her to come down to the field. He smiled as he rested his arms on the top of the fence that separated them while he waited.
“Uh oh,” she said under her breath so only Martha could hear. “I think I’m in trouble.”
Martha laughed, and Lois stood and jogged down the steps to him.
“Hi,” she said, batting her eyes at him as she approached.
“Nice try,” he said.
“I was just trying to help?”
He smiled and shook his head. “You’re distracting me,” he said. “I can’t listen to you and listen to my guys at the same time. Stop bossing me around and go back to talking about how much you love me.”
She laughed. “Okay, I can do that.”
“Good,” he said. “I love you. And I love you for trying to help.”
She gazed up at him adoringly. “I love you. And you’re doing a great job. Nobody expected that flea flicker.”
“Even you?” he teased.
“Even me,” she conceded.
“Thank you,” he said, then he jerked his head back toward her seat. “Go on, I’ll see you after the game.”
“Okay,” she said. “Good luck.”
He nodded and started to walk away, and she took a step back and turned.
“Hey, Lois,” he said, and she turned back to him.
“That Springfield safety on the left is a three-time All State. He holds the state record for interceptions. It’s not a hole. It’s a trap.”
“Oh,” she said softly, giving him an embarrassed grin.
“Oh,” he repeated, grinning.
She laughed and turned, glancing at him and smiling once more before fighting the crowd back to her seat. When she finally made it there, Pete and Lana were missing, and she assumed they had taken the kids to the bathroom or the concession stand. Martha and Jonathan were waiting expectantly, though, and she laughed and shrugged. “He just wanted to point out that he might actually be better at doing his job than I am, and I should just let him do it,” she said.
They laughed, and before they could say anymore, they were interrupted by an older woman who looked vaguely familiar to Lois.
“Martha, Jonathan,” she said politely, before turning her attention to Lois. “You gave us all quite a scare, young lady. We sure are glad to see you back.”
It clicked suddenly, and Lois realized she was looking at Mrs. Harper, the school secretary who had welcomed her so warmly during her first visit.
“Thank you,” she said. “It’s so good to be back. And Clark passed on all your well wishes. Everyone was so kind.”
“The whole town was just worried sick,” she said. “My phone was ringing off the hook at work and home with people trying to check up on you and see if there was any news.”
Lois smiled. It was obvious Mrs. Harper relished her role as the clearinghouse for Smallville gossip, and this was one of the most exciting things to happen in town in recent history.
“Thank you for fielding all the calls and keeping everyone up to date,” Lois said, stifling a grin.
Mrs. Harper beamed at her and then turned to Martha, asking if she had heard about an acquaintance whose name Lois didn’t recognize who had apparently announced last week that she was pregnant with twins.
Lois half-listened while she watched the marching band play and looked over the crowd, just enjoying the atmosphere.
After a few minutes, Mrs. Harper made her way back to her seat, just in time for Pete and Lana to reappear with the kids, carrying nachos and drinks. Lois turned to greet them, but before the kids could dig into their snacks, they spotted someone over her shoulder.
“Grammy!” Sophie cheered, jumping to her feet.
Lois turned and saw Lana’s brother David approaching with an older woman who must be their mother. She was tall and heavy set, with gray hair in a bun and a warm smile.
Sophie and Caleb both scrambled to their feet, climbing over Pete to get to the aisle for hugs.
“Jack’s looking good out there,” Jonathan said to David.
“Which one is Jack?” Lois asked Martha quietly, remembering suddenly that David’s sons were both on the team, though Martha had told her the younger son was a freshman who spent most of his time on the bench.
“He’s on the defense,” she whispered back. “I’ll point him out when they come back out.”
Lois nodded gratefully, still trying to catalog as much information as possible about Clark’s extended family.
Lois turned her attention to the children, who were still clamoring for their grandmother’s attention, peppering her with details of their day at school, while she smiled at them fondly and exclaimed over all their pronouncements.
She looked up and caught Lois watching them, and her smile broadened. “You must be Lois,” she said. “I’m Ginny Lang. I’ve heard so much about you, I feel like we’ve already met.”
Lois stood to shake her hand, and Ginny pulled her into a warm hug. “I heard a rumor you were coming,” she said, raising her eyebrows at Martha.
“Hey!” Lana exclaimed from the row behind. “I was told not to tell a single soul.”
“Yes, Pete looked downright shocked when Lois walked up,” Martha said pointedly.
“That doesn’t count!” Lana exclaimed immediately.
“Well, that doesn’t count either,” Martha retorted, gesturing at Ginny.
Lois laughed, amazed they had managed to keep it a surprise from Clark.
They talked for a few minutes about the game so far and strategy for the second half as the marching band finished their show and the teams returned to the field. Then Ginny and David said their goodbyes and headed back to their seats.
“Lois!” Caleb said, and she turned to face him. “Did you see? We got nachos!”
She laughed. “I did see,” she said. “That’s a good treat.”
“Do you like nachos, too?”
She nodded and smiled at Lana who was grinning, clearly amused by Caleb’s infatuation.
“Uncle Clark’s nachos are better,” Sophie said. “He lets us sprinkle on all the toppings and pour the cheese on top.”
“We can make them at our sleepover!” Caleb said, bouncing in his seat.
Lana’s eyes went wide and she grimaced and mouthed “oh shit” over the kid’s heads. Lois looked at her questioningly, and she frowned. “You know, guys. When we planned that, we didn’t know that Lois was going to be in town. Maybe-”
“When are they supposed to sleep over?” Lois asked, cutting her off.
“Tuesday,” Lana said. “It’s the last day of school. It’s kind of a tradition. Clark takes them on Tuesday, and I get a big jump of Thanksgiving prep. He mentioned it to them last week when he took them to the park, and I didn’t even think about it when you emailed me later.”
Lois hesitated. She genuinely enjoyed spending time with Sophie and Caleb — more than she would have imagined before meeting them. Caleb’s adoration was sweet and flattering, and Sophie cracked her up with her observations and the way she repeated things she had heard adults say. But overnight? Without their parents?
“It’s fine,” Lois said with a shrug, trying to sound casual. The last thing she wanted was for the kids to associate her with having their fun plans with Uncle Clark canceled.
Lana looked at her skeptically. “We can just reschedule it. It’s not a big deal. You’ve only got a week.”
Lois shook her head, thinking of Clark’s guilt over missing Halloween. Besides, Clark did sleepovers all the time. Surely he would have everything under control. She would just be along for the ride.
“It’s fine,” Lois said. “It’s just one night. We’ll have fun. Right guys?”
Sophie and Caleb both nodded eagerly.
“We can make nachos and watch a movie. And,” she said conspiratorially to the kids. “I heard there’s French toast in the morning on sleepover nights.”
“Yes!” Caleb said. “And I can help!”
“No way!” Sophie replied immediately. “Last time you got the eggs everywhere! Even on the ceiling! Uncle Clark said it looked like the chicken coop exploded.”
Caleb’s face fell, and Lois’ heart squeezed at his adorable little pout.
“You can help,” she whispered. “Uncle Clark won’t care.”
He looked at her, unconvinced, his little mouth still in a pout.
“I’ll ask him,” she said. “He won’t say no to me.”
Caleb grinned at her and nodded.
Beside him, Sophie looked suspicious that Lois was taking Caleb’s side, so Lois turned to her next. “What movie should we watch?” Lois asked. “I haven’t seen any kid movies in ages. I bet you could tell me which are the best ones.”
“Have you seen Aladdin?” she asked, sitting up straighter. “Or Beauty and the Beast?”
Lois shook her head.
“Neither?” Sophie said, appalled.
Lois shook her head again, barely stifling her laugh. “You pick your favorite for this sleepover, and we’ll watch the other one next time.”
“That’s gonna be tough,” Sophie said, pondering her options.
A whistle drew their attention, and Lois twisted back in her seat to face the field. She caught Lana’s eye on the way, smiling when Lana mouthed a silent “thank you”.
The second half of the game was much faster paced, beginning with three touchdowns in quick succession to kick off the third quarter, and the crowd was on their feet cheering the whole time as the teams tried to claw their way ahead.
Springfield fought their way down the field again, and the crowd cheered as the Smallville defense kept them from making it to the red zone, but deflated when Springfield took the lead for the first time with a field goal.
The Smallville offense was champing at the bit, ready for their chance to retake the lead. The fourth quarter was halfway through now, and the end of the game was in sight. She could see how eager they were to get ahead and stay there.
The quarterback took the snap and fired an absolute rocket …right into the hands of the safety Clark had warned her about. He hit the ground running, dodging and weaving through the line as the Smallville crowd cried out in surprise and dismay. Straight into the endzone, where he spiked the ball and was surrounded by his jumping, screaming teammates.
The mood in the Smallville stands was grim. Six minutes to go and down ten points, Lois wondered for the first time what their night would hold if the Tigers lost the game. She had just assumed it would be a night of celebration, but she wondered if their personal celebration would be dampened by such a big loss.
On the field, Clark called a timeout, and she could see he was calm and focused. He wasn’t yelling or visibly upset with his team. He was talking to his players, patting the shoulder of the obviously distraught quarterback – whose lack of control had been an ongoing issue all season and who was obviously beating himself up for allowing the ball to drift too close to the safety – while he laid out whatever strategy he had planned for the rest of the game.
“Look at him,” Lois whispered under her breath, more to herself than anything. But Martha turned and smiled at her, nodding.
“He’s always been good under pressure,” she said softly. “He’s focused. He doesn’t quit.”
Lois nodded, imagining facing a lifetime of ups and downs with someone so steady by her side.
“I’ve only seen him truly panic the one time,” Martha said softly, and her tone left no question that she was referring to a few weeks earlier when he had burst into their home terrified for her safety.
Lois nodded and gave her a small smile, then turned her attention back to the field, where the huddle was breaking and the Tiger’s offense was taking the field again. Clark was watching his team quietly. He looked calm, but Lois could see the tension radiating off of him, and knew he was feeling the pressure.
She cast a look around to make sure no one was watching her closely, and then she put a hand in front of her mouth and whispered, “Hey.” He didn’t respond, but she assumed he could hear her, and went on. “You got this. Six minutes is a long time. You’re doing great. I love you.”
He glanced back over his shoulder, and she smiled at him, and she could feel him relax. He turned back to the game, and Lois felt Martha reach over and squeeze her knee silently.
The quarterback’s first throw was shaky, and she held her breath, but Travis held onto it and managed not to lose any yards. And then they seemed to find their groove again, moving steadily down the field and scoring a touchdown over the course of the next three minutes.
The crowd was on their feet again, and even Pete, who was normally so quiet and reserved, was yelling his encouragement.
Springfield put up a fight, but they were no match for the defense, including David’s son, Jack, who made three tackles and finally sacked the quarterback to end their run.
Less than two minutes left on the clock and down by three, the offense was practically vibrating with energy as they watched the punt team take the field. The Springfield kicker dropped the ball, kicking it high into the air, only to have the punt blocked and knocked to the ground, a Smallville player leaping on top of it at the twenty-five yard line and finding himself at the bottom at a dogpile. Lois held her breath as the pile separated, and then the crowd erupted when the Smallville player held the ball up victoriously. Lois cheered along with the crowd and smiled, remembering Clark’s eagerness to get home last week because he wanted to work with his special teams.
Gone was the somber feeling from earlier, replaced not even by hope but by jubilation. The offense roared onto the field, and this time Lois was quiet as Clark inched them down the field.
There were twenty seconds left on the clock – time for one last try at a touchdown from the five yard line before falling back and kicking a field goal to tie the game and send them into overtime. The emotion in the stadium was intense; the raucous cheering from earlier replaced by a tense silence.
The offense lined up, and Lois watched the play clock tick down as the quarterback clapped his hands and waited for the snap. The defense was stacked toward the right, anticipating the flea flicker that had caught them flat footed in the first half.
The center snapped the ball, and the quarterback caught it and stood, then faked a throw to Travis, before twisting and throwing to the left. It sailed straight into the hole Clark had avoided the entire game, past the shocked safety who had been lulled into complacency, and into the waiting hands of a wide receiver in the end zone.
The crowd lost its collective mind, screaming and cheering and jumping up and down. Spectators began running down the stairs of the bleachers, rushing toward the field. Clark turned his back to the game momentarily, raising his hands in the air to stay the the crowd, and Lois watched in amazement as they slowed, allowing the kicker to take the field and run down the clock before kicking it cleanly through the uprights, finishing the game with a final score of Smallville 28, Springfield 24.
The crowd surged again, this time pouring through the gates and flooding the field. Lois turned and hugged Martha, then found herself swept into a hug from Lana as soon as she pulled back.
“He’s looking for you,” Pete said, resting a hand on her arm.
Lois turned and found Clark in the midst of the chaos, beaming at her.
“Go,” Lana said.
Lois turned to Martha, who was planning to drive her to Clark’s after the game.
“Go ahead,” she said with a smile. “We’ll meet you at the concession stand.”
Lois grinned and took off, running down the stairs and through the gate, weaving through the people celebrating on the field and straight into his arms. She cradled his face in her hands, stroking his cheeks, and beamed back at him until he finally bent his head and kissed her.
“You’re amazing,” she said, laughing with joy when their lips separated. “Congratulations.”
“I’m so glad you were here for this,” he said.
“Me too,” she said, her voice tight with emotion, tears pricking at her eyes.
He bent his head and kissed her again, and the screaming fans and teasing cheers faded into the background, and there was only him and her and the overwhelming joy of this moment.
Suddenly, Clark ripped his lips from hers and lifted his head, one arm still wrapped tightly around her waist, the other held straight out, palm up.
“Stop!” he said, in a tone she had never heard from him. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a group of players approaching with the giant Gatorade cooler, the lid removed, ready to douse him. The boys were frozen in place, as stunned as she was by the warning tone in his voice.
“Don’t you dare pour that on her,” Clark said, his voice softer now. “Wait.”
The boys grinned at him and then at her. “Ms. Lane?” one of them said, giving her the opportunity to get out of the way.
“Go celebrate with your team,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.” She kissed him quickly and then stepped out of his embrace and nodded to his players.
They rushed forward, upending the cooler over his head, orange Gatorade and ice raining down on him. He laughed, raising his hands and surrendering to the sticky christening, and she laughed too as she watched his team surround him, jumping up and down and chanting “We are Tigers!” in a cacophony of joy.
Then she turned and made her way off the field, already thinking about her plans for their private celebration.
