>>> Thursday, August 22nd
Lois arranged the place settings for the fourth time, then shook herself and stood straight. She smoothed her slacks and tugged her blouse into place again.
It was still five minutes before seven, and Clark was neither late nor early for social engagements. Besides, he might have a Superman emergency to deal with. He might even prefer that to spending time with her. That was certainly the impression she’d received that morning at the courthouse.
No, she told herself, he was being Superman for the public. He wasn’t her Clark, not at that time. For that matter, he wasn’t her anything yet, at least not officially.
That was what she wanted to talk about tonight. She didn’t want the news business to intrude, she didn’t want Clark’s career as a novelist to be at center stage, she didn’t want his upcoming trial to dominate their time together, she only wanted to be a woman having dinner with the man she loved. The fact that he was also facing a felony murder charge was incidental. Surely he’d get off.
She stopped herself. Get off? Was she actually hoping for a not-guilty verdict because of her relationship with Clark and not because she believed the charges were unjustified? If that were true, it sure messed with her journalistic integrity and her detachment. She’d have to think about that. But not now. Later. After dinner. After Clark went home.
Maybe some time tomorrow.
A soft tap sounded from the front door. She glanced at the clock. Seven on the dot. She peeked through the spy hole and saw Clark standing there. He wore a tan sport coat, a brown turtleneck sweater, gray slacks, and he was holding a bottle of wine. He was also shifting back and forth from one foot to the other as if he were nervous.
Or maybe he had to go to the bathroom.
She put on her brightest smile, undid the bolts, and opened the door. “Clark! I’m glad you could be here on time. As if I thought you’d be late! Or early.”
She said to herself, You’re babbling, Lane! Shut up! “Come on in. Dinner’s almost ready.”
He handed her the bottle. “I brought something for us for later, if you’d like.”
“Sure! Let me put this in some ice to keep it cold.”
She put the bottle into a small bucket and poured ice cubes around it. While she did, she wondered if Clark felt as awkward as she did. If he did, maybe he’d explain why she felt that way.
Clark’s voice from the dining room startled her. “What’s for dinner tonight?”
She calmed herself. “Chicken parmesan and tossed salad. I thought I’d keep it simple tonight.”
“Sounds good. Smells good, too. Need any help?”
She opened her mouth to decline, then reconsidered. “Sure. You can get the chicken out of the oven. That way I know I won’t burn myself.”
“Okay.”
Lois was puzzled. His voice didn’t seem to have any charge, any juice, any humor or enjoyment in it. On one hand, she hoped it wasn’t something she’d done, but on the other, she hoped she had done something so she could fix it.
“Clark, would you like the wine with dinner or after?”
“After is fine, if that’s what you prefer.”
“I’ll pour some iced tea, then.”
“Iced tea?” His voice finally sounded alive, albeit only slightly. “Since when do you drink iced tea?”
“Since your mother introduced me to it. I have since learned that the tea I drank the first time I visited Smallville with you wasn’t made especially for me. It was what she usually makes, and I’ve learned to like it. I even bought a sun tea brewing pitcher. I just drop the water and sweetener and tea bags in and put it on my balcony.” She carried the salad and dressing to the table. “Works better in summer than in winter, but I can use it whenever the sun shines.”
Clark looked at her with a hint of laughter in his eyes. “That’s the Lois Lane I remember.”
“What?”
“It was refreshing, that’s all.”
“What was refreshing?”
“A little bit of babble.”
“I was not babbling!”
He cracked a smile. “No, not really, but you were holding up your end of the conversation quite well.”
She quirked her mouth back at him. “Well, is there a problem with that?”
“Not at all. I just didn’t realize how much I missed it until now.”
She started to reply and the phone rang. She grunted and stared at it as if daring the instrument to ring again.
It took her dare. She ripped the receiver off the hook and said, “This better be important.”
There was a moment of silence, then her mother said, “Lois? Are you okay?”
“Duh! Mom, I’m sorry, I thought it was someone from work.”
“I would hope talking to your mother would be a privilege and not a chore.”
Lois sighed. “Normally it is, Mom, really, but I have company for dinner tonight.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Can you call me back when you have some spare time?”
“Sure. Can you tell me what this is about?”
“Except that it’s not bad news, no. And it’s not that urgent either, so don’t trip on your guests to call me back.”
“Okay, Mom, I won’t. Tonight’s Thursday, so I’ll get back to you, oh, before Sunday for sure. Is that soon enough?”
Ellen chuckled warmly. “Of course, dear. Like I said, it’s not urgent. We’ll talk later. You have a good time, okay? Love you. Bye for now.”
“Love you too, Mom. Bye.”
She turned as she hung up and saw Clark watching her with raised eyebrows. “What’s wrong, Clark?”
He shook his head. “I’ve missed a lot in the past three years. Do you get along with your father, too?”
“How do you – never mind, I forgot about your hearing gizmo. Yes, my dad and I speak on a semi-regular basis and we don’t argue. And so you’ll know, they’re still divorced but they’re getting along better than they have in years. Mom is seeing a very nice man who’s a patent lawyer, and they may be serious. In fact, that may be what she called about.” Lois ducked her head and smiled. “I never thought I’d think this way, but they make a nice couple.”
“I thought you told me your folks were back together.”
She shook her head. “I thought they were, but they were just working together. They left that project about the time you and I were at your parents’ farm a few weeks ago. They both told me that they don’t dislike each other, they simply don’t want to be married to each other.”
“What does your father think about that?” His face dropped as she looked up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You’re not prying, Clark, you’re just making conversation. I’m not upset.” She shrugged. “He’s actually okay with it. He told me last Christmas that if Mom can’t be happy with him, she ought to be with a man who can make her happy.” She kept talking as she brought the glasses and the tea pitcher to the table. “Dad finally seems to have stopped chasing his interns. He’s working for a subsidiary of Star Labs in Florida now, doing research on the feeding and migratory patterns of seagoing mammals as related to their general health and feeding habits.”
“Really? That’s kind of a different field for him, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is. He’s going to be published this winter in some terribly important scientific journal. He’s really gaga about it, too. I think he’s found his niche at last.”
“That’s good to hear.” He hesitated. “How about you?”
She turned and gave him an intensely casual look. “How about me what?”
“Have you found your niche?”
She frowned. Tonight was supposed to be about the two of them as a couple, not either one as an individual. How had they gotten on this subject? “I think so. I enjoy being editor, more than I would have thought a few years ago. That short stint at the Standard whetted my appetite for it, and when Perry offered to hire me back as his assistant, it really hit the spot.” She motioned for him to sit down and then took her own chair. “Besides, I’m getting a little old to be dangling myself over the jaws of death on a regular basis.”
He canted his head to one side as he selected a chicken breast and deftly slid it onto his plate. “You’re not old, Lois. You’re what, thirty, thirty-one?”
He didn’t remember, not really. She tried to hide her disappointment. “Thirty-two on my next birthday.”
He nodded. “See? That’s not old. And you’re keeping up with your martial arts, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I passed my fourth degree black belt test this past spring. My sensei has me help out with the women’s self-defense classes when I can make the time.”
“That’s great, Lois. I bet there’s not a reporter at any paper in Metropolis who could take you hand-to-hand. You can still take care of yourself.”
She frowned. “Maybe so, but I’m a little too old to take guns away from assassins or sneak through a broken window into a warehouse to burgle a file cabinet or sit in a car on an all-night stakeout on a regular basis.”
She stopped to take a breath. “Now I’m the one who tells the young ones to watch their steps and bring back the story and not make me update and print their obituaries.”
He nodded. “Sounds like the kinds of things Perry used to say.”
“I’m in charge, Clark. It’s me who sits up and worries about them now.”
He silently offered to trade the plate of chicken for the salad bowl and she complied. “Hey, I’m just making conversation here, remember?”
“I know. I’m sorry if I sounded upset.” She sighed. “Sometimes I just feel old, that’s all.”
“You’re younger than Ron.”
She gave him an eyebrow. “What? Where did that come from?”
“Wasn’t Ron the guy in your office yesterday afternoon? Before we went to the courthouse.”
She frowned in thought. “Oh. Yeah, that was Ron. What about him?”
“He seems like a nice guy.”
She hesitated, wondering where Clark was going with this. “He is. He came over from the Standard about four months after Perry hired me back as associate editor. He’s been a big help to me, and he’s a very good reporter.”
“I know. I’ve read some of his stuff.” Clark played with his salad for a moment. “He’s at least as good as I used to be, if not better.”
“You’re still that good, Clark. You just have to get back into the swing of things.”
He shook his head. “I dunno. I’ve been writing, sure, but not investigating. I don't know if I have the skills for it any more.”
“You could do it if you wanted to.”
He looked at her. He wasn’t smiling. “Is that career advice or a job offer?”
Now she understood. She hadn’t intended to talk about his working for the Planet again – and working for her – so soon, but apparently he had. “It’s encouragement. I know you can do the job. All you’d have to do is say the word and the Planet would take you back so fast even your head would spin.”
Instead of acting pleased by the compliment, he simply nodded once and returned to his meal.
Lois decided to change the subject. “Have you found a lawyer yet?”
“I think so. I met with a woman named Constance Hunter this afternoon. She had an urgent appointment with another client today, so I’m going to talk to her again tomorrow. She said she doesn’t take court cases any more, but the other attorneys I spoke with today are all gung-ho take-no-prisoners stomp-their-faces-flat type of people. I don’t want that kind of legal representation.”
She hesitated, thinking that her next question ought to be innocuous, but her journalistic reflexes beat her brain to her mouth. “But don’t you want to win at any cost?”
He stopped his fork and leaned back, apparently surprised. “No, Lois. I don’t want to win at any cost.”
She closed her eyes and called herself several rude names. “I’m sorry, Clark, I guess my mouth wrote another bad check.”
He didn’t smile at the weak joke. He also didn’t let it slide. “Of all people, Lois Lane, I’d expect you to understand that Superman can’t simply win this case. He has to be perceived as not guilty by the public, not just be acquitted on a technicality. He’s got to recover his reputation and win back the trust of the people. That won’t happen if he has a tiger shark for a lawyer.”
She nodded slowly. “I do understand, Clark, but I’ve got a stake in this too. If you go to prison, you take my heart with you.”
He stopped again, but this time he looked stricken. She mentally called up a few more choice appellations for herself. Despite her plans for a quiet, relaxed dinner with the man she loved, circumstances – and her own lack of verbal control – seemed determined to defeat her.
He reached out and touched her wrist. “I’m sorry, Lois. I – kind of forgot about that part of it. I’ve been selfish, been focused too much on my own situation. Please forgive me.”
Her heart melted a little. “Of course, Clark. I understand. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and it’s probably not going to let up any time soon.” She tried for a pixyish look. “ And you’re still referring to Superman as a totally separate person, too. Don’t you think it’s time to put the two of you together? After all, Superman wouldn’t be who he is without you.”
His eyes widened and he stared at her. “Clark Kent is who I am. Superman is what I do. We’re not really the same person. In fact, Superman is not even a real person. He’s just me in brightly-colored underwear and a cape.”
She propped her elbows on either side of her plate and settled her chin on the backs of her hands. “I know that’s how you look at it. But the hero persona, Superman, is just an extension of the real person, Clark Kent. He’s not a separate individual, just like Lois Lane the editor is not a separate individual from Lois Lane the cook. It’s simply another role in my life that I fulfill.” She sighed and stared into his eyes. “You’re not as different from the rest of us as you think.”
He didn’t answer, but began cutting and eating his chicken. After he finished the meat, he said, “I read your editorial this morning. You really laid into the DA.”
She swallowed and took a sip of tea. “He had it coming. Nobody attacks Superman on my watch and gets away with it.”
He put his silverware down and leaned back in the chair. “Superman isn’t above the law, Lois. I’m not above the law.”
“I didn’t mean that you were, Clark. What I wrote was that Reisman’s predecessor didn’t go after Intergang three or four years ago when doing so might have stopped a lot of the bloodshed. Instead of making up for that oversight – which I also made clear wasn’t his fault in any way – Reisman is chasing a hero who has saved more lives and prevented more crime than any police or fire department in any city in the nation. It’s a waste of the taxpayer’s money and squanders resources which could be better used to prevent real crime.”
He sighed again. “I’m in the same position any other citizen would be in who gave in to a fit of rage and killed someone. What I did was against the law and I deserve to be tried and judged by a jury of my peers.”
She put her own silverware down – less gently than Clark had – and slid her chair back. “How are we going to find twelve superheroes to judge you? Batman doesn’t live in this jurisdiction, Wonder Woman would laugh and just walk out, who knows what the Flash would do if – “
“Lois! The DA is doing the best he can. Cut him some slack, okay?”
She bit back a caustic retort and realized that they were arguing. It was the last thing she’d wanted to do tonight. Dinner was just about over and all they had done was disagree over and over.
She pushed back from the table and stood. “Maybe we should open the wine.”
He frowned. “Maybe I should just go, Lois. I haven’t been a very good guest tonight and I’m sorry.” He waved ineffectually and stood without looking at her. “I should go.”
She checked her first, angry response, and stepped closer to him. “Not before I apologize to you. I haven’t said the most important thing on my mind yet, and I should have said it the moment you came in.”
He met her gaze. “What’s that?”
“I love you.” She slipped her arms around his chest and pressed herself close against his shirt. “Please don’t forget it, please don’t doubt it. I love you, Clark.”
He folded his arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, too. I should have said it first.”
She smiled through the dampness in her eyes. “Why, because you’re the man?”
She could feel his return smile. “No. Because I love you more.”
She leaned back and caressed his cheek. “But I’ve waited for you for years. Doesn’t that mean I love you more?”
He grinned wider and kissed the tip of her nose. “No. It means I love you for loving me so patiently, even when I didn’t deserve it, so no matter how much you love me it only means that I’ll love you even more.”
She tugged his face to hers and kissed him gently. “This isn’t a contest, Clark, it’s our lives.”
“True, but no matter which of us wins, I come out on top.”
She giggled and put her palm on his chest. “No, I’m on top. Don’t you remember? That first day, when I told you that I was top banana?”
They shared a rueful chuckle, and Clark stroked Lois’s hair. “You win. Again.”
“Don’t I always?”
He smiled and kissed her forehead. “You know, I think we should open that wine after all.”
*****
They finally made it to the easy small talk Lois had envisioned for their time together. Lois filled him in on Clay and Catharine, how they still seemed more than happy with each other, and how well Jim Olsen was fulfilling his responsibilities as photo editor. Clark repeated some embarrassing gossip about Smallville’s new county sheriff and his difficulty in driving below the speed limit, that Maisie from the cafe was being courted by the widowed pastor of Smallville’s Methodist congregation, and that former sheriff Rachel Harris had taken a position with the Kansas State Highway Patrol.
Lois lifted her glass and saw that it was empty. “Oops. I drank all of mine. You want a refill?”
“Sure. We’ll get blitzed together.”
She laughed as she stood. “You can’t get drunk and two glasses of wine won’t affect me noticeably.”
“Well, if you can’t get rip-roaring drunk with the woman you love, who can you get rip-roaring drunk with?”
She laughed again as she walked to the kitchen. As she poured the wine, she thought about suggesting that Clark write some pieces about the trial for the Planet. Maybe even a couple of interviews with Superman. He didn’t need the money, but she thought he needed the work.
She handed him his glass and offered a small toast. “Here’s to love. Specifically, to our love.”
He smiled and tapped his glass to hers. “I can certainly drink to that.”
He put her glass down and sat down beside him on the couch. “Can I make a suggestion?”
He leaned close and smiled warmly. “Of course you can.”
“Not that kind of suggestion!”
“Oh.” He leaned away and crossed his arms.
“What are you doing now?”
“I’m pouting. Can’t you tell?”
“You’re not very good at it.”
“I’m doing my best!”
“Maybe I can help. Push your lower lip out.” He did so. “No, more than that. It needs to curl down towards your chest.”
He did his best. “Good boy. Now duck your head down.”
He complied and she tried to stifle a giggle. “Hunch your shoulders up and together. That’s it. You’ve got it, Clark! Now you’re pouting.”
“You sure this isn’t just a bad Nixon impersonation?”
She pointed at him with her index finger. “Pout, Mr. Kent!”
He sat there in his pout pose for almost ten seconds before Lois lost control of her giggle. He was infected almost immediately, and the giggles mutated into huge belly laughs before either of them knew what was happening.
Lois slid off the couch onto the floor. Clark followed her a moment later. Somehow they ended up lying on the floor, heads together and feet pointed in opposite directions.
After a few minutes their laughter fit ended and they smiled warmly at each other from the carpet. Lois reached out and captured his face for a long upside-down kiss. He didn’t resist. In fact, he cooperated whole-heartedly.
She finally pulled back and sighed, then propped herself on one elbow and rested her head on her hand. “That was a very effective pout.”
They shared another laugh. “I’ll have to remember how to do that. Might come in handy in the future.”
She stroked his forehead and smoothed away some slight wrinkles. “You’ll have to save it for special occasions. I don’t think that kind of behavior is appropriate for the newsroom.”
His eyes popped open and he quickly turned to face her. “The newsroom? What are you talking about?”
She chuckled and brushed his cheek with the back of her hand. “You coming back to work, silly.”
He straightened and leaned slightly away from her. “I have a job, thank you very much.”
“You mean the romance novels? You can still write them. Heck, you could grind one of those out in a couple of weeks. It’s formula stuff, just get a template and fill in the blanks and wham, there’s your romance novel. I’m talking about you doing real writing and real reporting again. It would do you a world of good.”
He sat up. “Lois, I’m not sure I want to work at the Planet.”
“What?” She rolled to her stomach and pushed up to her knees. “What do you mean, you don’t want to work at the Planet?”
He waved his hands. “It’s like I said before, I don't know if I can do investigative reporting any more. I’m not sure I want to. I wouldn’t mind writing some more serious stuff, longer articles on a freelance basis, and maybe some non-fiction books, but I don’t know if reporting is what I want to do now.”
Shocked, she reverted to ‘boss editor’ mode. “You’re out of your mind! This is what you were born to do, Clark! You were one of the best I’ve ever worked with, or that I’ve even heard about. For that matter, you were one of the best Perry had ever seen! He told me often enough!”
“Lois, I don’t – “
“No! You need to get back in the groove and you need to do it now! The longer you wait the more difficult it will be, and despite being Superman you’re not getting any younger!”
“But this is – “
“No, Clark!” She sat up, crossed her legs and then her arms, and glared at him. “No objections, no discussion, this is what you need to do!”
He stared at her, silent, until she broke eye contact. Then he stood. “I’m not going back to work for the Daily Planet or any other newspaper, Lois, at least not as an investigative reporter. And after tonight, I doubt I’ll be sending anything new to the Planet.”
She was stunned by his sudden mood swing. In complete disbelief, she watched him walk to the front door and take his coat off the rack. “I’ll be in touch. I promised you Superman’s exclusive account of the trial, and I’ll deliver it.” He put on the coat and stopped with his hand on the knob. “Maybe you should have Ron interview Superman. Good night, Lois.”
And he was gone.
*****
Catharine was leaning back and relaxing in her husband’s arms on the couch. Clay gently stroked her hair, caressed her cheeks, and kissed her suggestively. Because of their inconsistent work schedules, this was an evening of the sort they rarely got to enjoy, so they were making the most of it.
She turned to face him, then kissed the hollow of his throat, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, and rubbed her hands gently over his chest. He responded by crushing her gently in a strong embrace and finding her lips with his. She moaned slightly and arched closer to him –
And the phone rang.
She managed to pull herself away from him long enough to glance at the oversized caller ID display on the wall above the phone. She read the number, realized it wasn’t the Daily Planet calling, and turned back to give her husband her full attention. She captured his tongue with her lips and –
And she suddenly realized that the number displayed was Lois’s. “Clay, baby, I’m sorry, Lois is calling.”
He stopped, then heaved a huge sigh that wasn’t all acting. She got up and walked to the phone stand.
“Hello, this is Catharine. What? Lois, is that you? What’s wrong? What? He what? You what? No! Oh, Lois, no! Yes, I can – “
She broke off and turned to Clay. “Honey, she really needs a friend right now.”
He clenched his jaw and nodded shortly. She said, “I’m sorry. I can tell her ‘no’ if you really want me to.”
He hesitated, then shook his head. “Don’t do that. Lois doesn’t call this late unless there’s a good reason, and from what little I heard it sounds like she needs a friend.” He got up and hugged her. “You go. I’ll just sit in front of the refrigerator for a few hours and cool off.”
She smiled warmly and kissed him. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” She lifted the phone again. “Lois? You hang loose, girlfriend, I’ll be there as quick as I can. Should I bring ice cream? Oh. Well, leave some for me, okay?”
She hung up and turned to embrace her husband. “You are such a darling man. I love you so much.”
“And I love you too. Take a sweater, it’s chilly tonight.”
“I will. I promise not to be gone too long.”
“And stop telling the guys at the precinct what a darling man I am! It’s embarrassing!”
*****
Catharine knocked on Lois’s door, unsure of what she’d find. She’d thought about stopping for ice cream or a box of double-fudge crunch bars, but the thought of a distraught Lois in her apartment with an open bottle of wine tipped the scales towards the quickest possible trip.
There was no answer, so Catharine knocked a little harder. Still no response. She rang the doorbell, which Lois hated but by the conditions of her lease could neither remove nor replace. Lois had once claimed it reminded her of Windsor Castle and the stuffy English, so her friends and co-workers knew to knock. This, however, qualified as an emergency.
Catharine reached for the doorbell once again, but stopped when the door finally swung open. Lois was still fully dressed save for being shoeless, but her eyes were slightly glazed and a bit unfocused.
The worst part was the wineglass in her left hand and the nearly empty wine bottle in her right.
Catharine slipped in and gave Lois a quick hug as she kicked the door shut, trusting Lois’s automatic bolts. Then she led her friend to the couch, sat her down, took the bottle and glass, and put them on the dining room table.
“Lois, I’m going to make some coffee, okay?”
Lois waved her hand distractedly. “Sure. Knock y’self out.”
Catharine watched Lois while she prepared the coffeemaker. She didn’t want her friend to finish the wine before she drank something to take the edge off the alcohol-induce haze she was in.
While the coffeemaker blurped, Catharine sat down beside Lois and took her hand. “Tell me what’s wrong, Lois.”
Lois only sniffled. Catharine took her hand. “You told me you were going to have dinner with Clark tonight, didn’t you?” A nod. “Was he late?”
“N-no.”
“Okay, did he not like what you had for dinner?”
“Liked it fine.”
Catharine was beginning to worry. Even a full bottle of wine shouldn’t have slammed Lois that hard, not after a meal. “Lois, did you and Clark have an argument?”
Lois lifted her eyes to Catharine’s and dissolved into tears. Catharine hugged her close and let her blow snot wherever she wanted to.
Over Lois’s shoulder, Catharine noticed another bottle sitting upright on the floor beside Lois’s trash can. An empty bottle.
An empty wine bottle. She looked closer and saw that the label was a very good brand of French wine, but with a fairly high alcohol content. She reached out and lifted the bottle that had been in Lois’s hand and checked the label. Again, it was good California wine, but high in proof. She might as well be drinking bourbon, Catharine thought.
Catharine pushed Lois away, just far enough to look at her. “Lois. Lois! Listen to me. Did Clark bring a bottle of wine?”
Lois tried to wipe her nose and nodded.
“Did you already have a bottle here?”
Lois nodded again.
“Was your bottle already open?”
Lois stopped and looked at Catharine, then wailed, “Nooooo!”
Okay, Lois was really drunk. Coffee wouldn’t help much.
She disengaged herself from Lois’s grasp and hunted for the largest glass in the kitchen cabinets. She filled it with water and brought it back. “Lois, you need to drink this. Come on, big sip, okay? Your head won’t hurt quite as much tomorrow.”
Lois managed to drink more than she spilled. Catharine grasped her wrists pulled her upright. “Come on, boss lady, you have to walk around a little, get some of that alcohol out of your system. Come on, this way. That’s it. We’ll just take a couple of laps around the living room and drink some more water.”
Lois stumbled, then looked up at Catharine with a pleading expression. “Pit stop?”
Oh, good, thought Catharine. “Sure, Lois, sure. We’ll make a pit stop.”
*****
Catharine laid out a pair of pajamas and fresh underwear for Lois, then went back in the bathroom to check on her. Lois was still seated on the commode, but she was resting her arm on the sink and looked ready to slide bonelessly onto the floor.
“Oh, no, you’re not falling down in here. Sit up, that’s it. Are you done yet?”
Lois, her eyes closed, grinned up at her and nodded. “Yes, momma. All done with tee-tee.”
Catharine rolled her eyes. “Okay, let’s get you ready for bed. Come on, stand up, that’s it.”
“Wha’ bout my pants?”
“I’ll take care of them. Come with me.”
“”Kay.”
At least Lois wasn’t an angry drunk, she mused, although reverting to toddler status wasn’t all that much better. Catharine helped Lois change her clothes as she half-listened to Lois’s disjointed recital of the night’s events.
Then something stopped her. “Lois? What did you just say about Superman?”
“Wha’? Oh. I dunno. Oh, yeah, he’s gonna go free. Told him so.”
“You told him? When was that?”
“Tonight.”
Catharine frowned. “Superman was here? With you and Clark?”
Lois giggled. “Oh, yeah, all the time.”
Catharine shook her head. “I wouldn’t have thought you guys were that kinky.”
“Kinky? Nah! Just one guy. That’s all I want, one guy. All I love, one guy.”
Catharine was afraid Lois was about to burst into tears. “Here, Lois, you need to drink some more water.”
“No! Not thirsty.”
Catharine grabbed her chin. “If you don’t drink some of this, you’ll be even sicker tomorrow than you’re already going to be.” Lois stuck out her lower lip and tried to turn away. “I mean it. Come on, Lois, drink some more.”
“No.”
“Lois – “
“Want some choc’late.”
Catharine sighed. “You can have some tomorrow after lunch. As much as you want.”
Lois turned her head back to Catharine. “Promise?”
“I promise. Please, drink some of this?”
Lois stuck her lip out again, but said, “Okay.” She took the tumbler and gulped almost half of it, then gave it back. “Better?”
“Much better. Are you sleepy now?”
Lois shook her head and leaned to one side. “Whoa. Not sleepy, jus’ a li’l dizzy.”
“Don’t shake your head.”
“Okay, yeah, good advice.” Lois felt behind her for her bed and sat down on the edge. “Thanks.”
“Hey, what are girlfriends for?”
A tear formed in the corner of Lois’s eye. “Comfort when men let you down.”
Catharine sat down beside her and put her arm around Lois’s shoulders. “Hey! This is Clark Kent we’re talking about. He’s the poster boy for reliable, remember?”
“No,” she sniffed. “He’s not.”
“Sure he is! Don’t you remember how you came back from Smallville back in June all cheerful and bubbly because you and Clark had connected again? You said yourself that it was the best thing for both of you.”
“I – hic – I wuz wrong.”
Catharine lifted Lois’s chin and looked into her eyes. “You know, I think that’s the wine talking. I’d much rather talk to Lois, but you’re going to have to sleep this off first.” Catharine stood and guided Lois to a horizontal position. “I’ll stay here until you go to sleep, okay?”
Lois whimpered for a moment, then muttered, “Okay.”
Catharine maneuvered Lois’s feet under the sheet and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. “Good night, boss lady. I’ll tell them you’ll be in late tomorrow.”
Lois reached out and grabbed Catharine’s hand. “Thank you.”
Catharine smiled and brushed the hair back from Lois’s face. “You’re more than welcome.”
They sat still for a few moments, then Lois said, “Gotta call Mom tomorrow. Thank her, too.” She took a deep breath and blew it out. “I don’t know what I’ll do if he goes to prison. Don’t know what I’ll do. Love him too much. Don’t know – “
“Lois?” Catharine was puzzled. “Are you saying you’re in love with Superman?”
“Yeah. No.” Lois curled into a ball, still holding Cat’s hand. “Don’t want Clark in prison! Don’t go, Clark! Please don’t go!” She began to cry quietly.
Catharine sat beside her friend, making reassuring noises until she was sure Lois was asleep. Sure enough, disengaging her hand didn’t affect Lois’s breathing in the least.
Catharine made sure the path to the bathroom was clear and that Lois’s clothes were in her laundry hamper. Then she turned off Lois’s alarm clock and wrote a brief lipstick note on the mirror to let her know what had happened. Then she pulled the bathroom door almost closed and left the light on as a nightlight.
She gathered her sweater and purse, then studied Lois’s locks so she wouldn’t leave the door unsecured. She was about to experiment when a soft tap sounded in front of her.
She peeked through the spyhole and saw Clark fidgeting in the hall. She wrestled with the locks until the door opened, then Clark lurched in and grabbed her arms.
“Lois, please listen to – Catharine!”
“Yes.” She stood still, locked in his grip. “Uh, Clark? Can I have my arms back?”
“What? Oh!” He let her go so quickly she almost lost her balance. “I – I’m sorry. I was hoping – Lois?”
“She got thirsty and drank the wine you left.”
“Oh.”
“Then she was still thirsty and drank most of the wine she’d bought for tonight.”
Clark’s eyes grew wide behind his glasses. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. She’s down for the count, I’m afraid, so whatever you wanted to say to her will have to wait until morning.”
He nodded. “I’ll wait.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Here? You’re going to wait – here?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Clark, honey, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. She’s pretty smashed, and she’s not going to make it to work on time tomorrow.”
His voice was firm as diamond and almost as sharp. “I’ll wait.”
She looked into his eyes and saw determination. “Okay. It’s your funeral.”
He turned and muttered, “Maybe so.”
“Well, good night.” She reached for the doorknob and hesitated. “Clark, was Superman here tonight?”
“Superman? Here?” He was more surprised than she thought he should have been. “No, no, he, uh, he wasn’t here. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, something Lois said from deep in the state of inebriation. I think she’s got you and Superman mixed up in her mind, or she did before she fell asleep.”
“How so?”
His sharp tone surprised her. “She said she didn’t know what she’d do if you went to prison. Not Superman. You.”
He nodded and turned away. She looked closer. “Clark? Are you in trouble with the law too?” He didn’t answer. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
His head snapped towards her and he stiffened. “Yes, actually, there is, but now isn’t the time.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, then she nodded. “Okay. We’ll talk soon, though, won’t we?”
He nodded. “We’ll talk, I promise.”
“Good. I’ve got to get home. If you see Superman, tell him I wish him luck on the trial.”
He grinned lopsidedly. “I’ll tell him. Good night, Catharine. And thanks for coming over and taking care of Lois.”
She paused in the doorway and poked him in the chest with her index finger. “That’s your job from now on, mister. Don’t make me remind you again.” She opened the door. “Speaking of reminding, I have to get home to my man and remind him how much he loves me.”
