Author’s Note: There have been a number of short ficlets popping up on the boards and in discord so I wanted to jump in on the trend. This was a bit of a challenge as most of my stories are 20 000 words or longer so writing something under 1000 words was difficult.
I wanted to do something seasonal as well and this was hanging around in the back of my mind for a while. Thanks as always to ksarasara for beta reading this.
Summary: Set in the future, Lois attempts to untangle Christmas lights for the tree. Clark and the kids offer to help, but Lois is determined. After all, it’s her job to put up the lights. It’s a Lane family tradition.
A Family Tradition
Tangled. They were always tangled. Lois had no idea how it happened and every year, but it did.
And every year she found herself using language she never used otherwise in front of Audrey and Rose, their two girls, now aged 5 and 7, as she desperately tried to straighten out the Christmas tree lights.
“Mommy’s not supposed to say that word.” The statement had come from Audrey, stage-whispered into her husband’s ear.
“No, Mommy isn’t,” Clark replied with a bemused smile on his face. “But she’s a little frustrated right now, so I think we’ll give it a pass."
"You're so generous," Lois muttered though without any real rancor. Clark gave her a gentle smile.
"I would point out, honey, that I did offer to help you.”
“Nope, this is my job. It’s a Lane family tradition.” And it was. One that had always fallen to Lois because her mother had usually been too drunk when it came time to put up the tree and her father generally worked late. Lois was the older sister, so as long as she could remember, she had been the one to put the lights up.
“I can help,” Rose offered. “I’m bigger than I was last year.”
“I know you are, sweetie,” Lois replied, as she looked at her daughter’s earnest and obliging expression. She should let her help. She should let him help. She knew that. “Maybe next year, okay?”
Rose shuffled back to Clark, disappointed, and Lois returned her attention to the task at hand. After twenty more minutes and several more inappropriate words, Lois had managed to untangle them. Lois then began to wind them around the tree, trying to ignore the frustration that was almost at a boiling point.
This was supposed to be fun, wasn’t it?
She grumbled some more, as she worked her way around the tree, shooting death glares at Clark every time he stood up to help her.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally finished. She stood back to admire her handy work. Only, instead of feeling accomplished, she just felt sweaty and irritated and definitely not in the spirit of the season.
Still, her heart lightened somewhat when Rose and Audrey jumped up and down, eager to see the tree with the lights turned on and blinking.
“Can I do the honours?” Clark asked, and she couldn’t help but notice the hesitancy in his voice. A feeling nagged at her. This was familiar. This tension. She didn’t like it. She gave Clark a terse nod and he plugged in the lights with a flourish.
Nothing happened.
“Why aren’t the lights on?” Audrey asked, lip jutting out in disappointment.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Clark said, unplugging them and then plugging them back in again. Still nothing. He looked at her, and though she saw nothing but his kind, gentle expression, Lois felt defensive. “Did you check to see if any of the bulbs were burnt out?”
“Of course, I did!” Lois snapped. “I do this every year, Clark, I know what I’m doing.”
“Honey, that’s not what I meant, I —”
“The fuse must be blown,” Lois muttered. She ran a hand through her hair and fought the urge to yell at someone — anyone. The room suddenly felt stifling and overwhelming.
“Well let me have a look, and maybe I can —”
“Can you just stand back and give me some space?” Lois snapped. Clark did so, though his expression was wounded. She glanced at the faces of her two girls and saw a hesitancy similar to the look Clark had worn earlier. Her heart squeezed painfully and the room felt even smaller.
“Daddy was just trying to help, Mommy,” Rose said softly.
And there it was. That tone. Lois knew that tone. Had grown up with that tone. That tone spoke of walking on eggshells. Of tempers flaring, wine glasses and spilled merlot.
She knew how it felt to walk the line. To know the exact moment that the slightest wrong phrase or misguided action would send her mother into a rage, or cause her to leave the room.
She’d spent a lifetime protecting Lucy from that tone. And now she could hear it in Rose’s voice. What had she done?
Panic rose up in her and she met Clark’s gaze, pleading with him to understand, to save her from herself. And, he did. Something in his eyes answered back and he folded her into his arms, kissed the top of her head and whispered that everything was going to be okay. Soon, Rose and Audrey were clinging to Lois’ legs and she found herself taking deep breaths, trying to keep the tears that threatened at bay.
She was not her mother. And Clark was here.
“I’ll go to the store,” Clark was saying softly, his tone conveying far more than his words. “I’ll get another set. I’ll put them up. You just sit down and play with the kids.”
“No, I have to put them up,” she insisted, not even certain why it mattered anymore. “It’s a Lane family tradition.”
“Mommy, maybe...” Audrey tugged on her leg and Lois knelt down to look at her and Rose. They exchanged their own glance of sisterly understanding. “Maybe we could put them up as a family. Maybe we could make our own tradition.”
“I think it’s time,” Clark agreed, kneeling down as well and taking her by the hand. And in his eyes she saw all the things she’d never had, and all the things she could have if she could just let go.
A Lane family tradition. But she had her own family. A marriage that was healthy and kids that were happy. She didn’t need to protect anyone. Not anymore.
Looking into the eyes of the three people she loved more than anything, she found her voice.
“A new tradition. Sounds perfect.”
End
