The night air was clean and crisp as Clark meandered down sidewalk after sidewalk, thinking deep thoughts and planning meaningful plans.
He hadn’t really expected her to drop everything and go out for a night on the town. Still, it felt good to lay all his cards on the table. He was too old to play games. Whether she liked him or not, he didn’t plan on pretenses.
But it didn’t give him many easy options on where to go from here.
A woman up ahead muttered under her breath as she dug around in the dirt, her body casting shadows in the already dim light.
“Stupid! Stupid,” she mumbled. “You don’t have time for any of this, and now look what you’ve done.”
“Is there a problem?” Clark asked as he drew near enough to be heard.
She eyed him, carefully assessing whatever character was revealed in body language and mode of dress. She must have decided to trust him, because she finally revealed, “Just dropped my keys. There’s no way I’m going to find them before the morning, is there?”
“Probably not,” Clark admitted, “but it doesn’t hurt to try.”
His eyes easily located the offending key ring.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” he wondered.
“Lord, have mercy!” she clapped her hands together. “How did you find them?”
“Just luck, I guess.”
It was his usual answer.
He smiled as he resumed walking. He tried to do that kind of thing at least a few times every day. On a good day he could work in a dozen or more. While sometimes it was something little, like saving a person time, money or dignity, if he was lucky he might even get to save a life.
It was those little acts of kindness that gave him hope in the world—and maybe even a purpose for living. His mom was always talking about the little gifts that God gave everyone, gifts that were expected to be shared to build up the community. Well, Clark had more than his fair share of gifts from God, and his little acts of kindness were his way of giving that back.
Perhaps that’s just what Lois needed, as well. She would never accept a gift of kindness from Clark directly, but maybe a few indirect gifts would give her a different perspective on mankind in general.
He resolved to look for more opportunities to give a little bit of kindness to Lois, whether directly or indirectly. To do that, he would have to become a student of what it was that Lois enjoyed.
~*~
Lunch came and went with no sign of Lois. Clark’s frustration was compounded by the fact that his work hadn’t allowed him even a few minutes of water-cooler time the previous day. Clark had turned out to be an irritatingly bad student of his favorite student.
Once again his fingers sought out the smooth satin of the cream-colored envelope that had graced the edge of his desktop all day. It was nothing much, really—just a small token of thoughtfulness. Still, it was a beginning. He wondered which would be best--should he leave it on Lois’ desk when he went home for the evening, or would it be better to hang onto it so he could give it to her personally tomorrow?
He forced his mind back onto his writing assignment. He had a deadline to meet and fretting over the decision wasn’t helping. He took the myriad of papers he had assembled and arranged them in a better order, eventually turning the mess into an outline. He made note of which quotes would fit best in the article and finally fleshed it out into a concise feature story.
He was giving it a last read-through when she arrived. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but sight only confirmed what his heart already attested to—somehow he could sense a moment before the elevator opened that Lois Lane had appeared.
~*~
It was disconcerting that every time she disembarked from the elevator he was watching. As far as she could tell, he didn’t look up every time the bell dinged, and yet she had never come through those doors even one time that she didn’t feel ‘Romeo’s’ eyes upon hers. He seemed awfully sweet to be a stalker, and yet it was odd that even when her work schedule changed he knew just when to start looking for her.
He smiled and waved. The temptation to stick her tongue out in response was enticing, yet she squelched the childish response in favor of simply raising an eyebrow.
Turning on her heel, she pushed ‘Mr. Charm’ to the back of her mind. She needed to make a good impression in order to achieve her goals at The Daily Planet and flirting with the hired help would surely hinder.
She stowed her purse and lunchbox and set off in search of Glen and her daily assignments.
She was deep in thought when an ivory envelope graced her desk a half an hour later.
“What’s this?” she asked automatically before she glanced up to see his crinkling brown eyes tilted up in a smile.
“Nothing, really.” His words were shy and modest, but his mere presence was forward enough.
“Oh.” She set the envelope aside, hoping he wouldn’t guess at the extreme curiosity she was squelching inside. “Well, then… I really do have a lot to get done.”
“All right,” he agreed quickly before adding, “I’ll be heading out in a few minutes. Can I get you anything before I go?” At the shake of her head, he pressed, “Soda or anything?”
“Nah, I prefer my caffeine hot,” Lois indicated the mug of lukewarm drudge to the side of her computer.
“Okay, then,” Clark hesitated.
Lois wondered what he was waiting for. She hoped he was at least a little disappointed that she hadn’t dropped everything to rip open the envelope he had brought her. It was probably all another come-on, one she would be more than happy to deny. The attractive ones always seemed to expect women to throw themselves at them.
“I’ll see you later,” he finally decided. He gathered a few belongings together and headed down the stairs.
Lois counted to fifty after the door closed and then added ten more for good measure. The envelope had the soft feel of linen to it, like the finer papers usually did. “Lois Lane” was written across the front in a clear, masculine script. It smelled faintly of his cologne, almost as if he had kept it stuck in a shirt pocket long enough to pick up traces of his essence. The card inside showed an old-fashioned globe with a ship sailing across the ocean. The words “Thinking of You” were emblazed across the bottom in a sepia font. The simple message inside read:
I’ll be thinking of you and rooting for you as you begin your first classes
tomorrow.
Your friend,
Clark
Lois turned it over, as if by looking at it differently she would better be able to see Clark’s angle. The heart-throbs always had an angle. Heck, even the ugly ones had an angle. She had probably foiled it when she hadn’t opened his package immediately. She supposed she would just have to wait for the other shoe to drop.
