Chapter Twenty
>>>Friday, 5:38 PM
“Good night, Lois.”
“Oh! You’re leaving already, Clark?”
He gave her a wry smile. “Unlike someone else in this office, I was here on time this morning.”
She stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want that nasty thing in my mouth, either. There’s no telling where it’s been lately.”
He was in the elevator before the full impact of his jibe hit her. She untied the knot in her end of their mental link and sent, -* I’m going to get you for that, Kent! *-
-* I’ll add it to the list of things you’re going to get me for. *-
-* Just you wait! I’ll clobber you with them all at once and probably cripple you for life. *-
-* I’ll make sure my insurance coverage is up to date. Good night, Lois. *-
She smiled to herself, and allowed the smile to filter through the link. -* You’re a good friend, Clark. Good night. *-
-* Thanks. See you Monday morning. *-
The link went quiet but didn’t close. Lois glanced at the clock and decided to take another look at the various sticky notes affixed to her desk and computer and phone and file drawer and –
She sighed. I really have to be neater, she thought. At least Claude wasn’t around any more to gripe at her about her poor note organizing skills. She gave a fleeting but sympathetic thought to the unfortunate women of western Europe upon whom Claude was now inflicted.
Maybe, she considered, they might get a good laugh out of him.
She scanned the notes, looking for inspiration, when she found Samuel Platt’s phone number on one of them. Something about the space program, she mused. Maybe this will pan out into something big, or maybe it’ll be a waste of time.
No way to know without making the call. She punched in the number and heard two rings, then a recording intoned, “You have dialed the main number for Luthor Technologies. Our office hours are eight AM to five-thirty PM on Monday through Friday and nine AM through one PM on Saturday. The main offices are closed on Sunday. If you know your party’s extension, please enter it now.”
She punched in the extension written on the note, hoping Platt was a night person like she was, or at least that he was a typical scientist in that he rarely looked at the clock. Two more rings. “Docking lab, Platt speaking.”
Bingo, she thought. “Dr. Platt, this is Lois Lane of the Daily Planet. You called our office – “
“It’s about time someone got in touch with me! Do you know how much work we’ve done that will have to be redone because these flaws haven’t been corrected yet?”
“No, I don’t, but – “
“Do you have any idea how many lives depend on this phase of the operation? If the shuttle can’t dock safely with the station, there’s no way to transfer the personnel and supplies needed for continued operation! And I won’t be embarrassed by this fiasco!”
“Dr. Platt, I’d like to schedule – “
“Can you be here at nine on Monday morning?”
Lois blinked. “Nine on Monday? Uh, yes, my partner and I – “
“Good. The more the merrier. Do you have the address?”
She lifted the sticky note. “5924 South Parker? In the industrial district south of Hobb’s Bay?”
“That’s it. I’ll notify security that you’re coming. Make sure you bring your credentials with you, and try to be on time! I’m a busy man.”
“Of course, Dr. Platt, and I – hello?”
He’s either really busy or socially clueless, she thought as she put the phone back in its cradle. Didn’t even have time for the usual pleasantries and telephone etiquette. She opened her internal e-mail application and sent notes to both Perry and Clark about the appointment, then glanced at the clock.
Almost six. She stretched and thought, Close enough, I’m going home.
*****
Cat looked around the newsroom as Lois walked past her and smiled. “Night, Cat.”
Cat lifted her eyebrows in weary surprise. “Wow. Is it that late already?”
Lois stopped in the elevator doorway. “Yep. You coming?”
“Wish I could.” Cat looked at her paper-covered desk and sighed. “I have all this stuff to file and a column to send to Perry’s in-box before I go. Thanks, though.”
“No problem,” smiled Lois. “Hey, you want to grab some lunch on Monday?”
“Sounds like a great idea. Your treat this time?”
Lois laughed. “Sure. We’ll go harass Uncle Mike again. He loved it the last time you came in.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Cat snorted out a laugh. “He hated it, Lois! There were four waiters and two cooks hovering around our table the whole time.”
“Yeah, but we got fabulous service.” She stepped into the elevator as it dinged at her to stop blocking the door. “I’ll fill you in on my date with Lex. You know, girl talk and all that.”
“Looking forward to it!”
The elevator door closed and the newsroom floor was empty. Cat figured she had about ten minutes before the night crew began arriving, so she pulled out her special cell phone and dialed.
“Yes, Ms. Grant?”
“Lois and Clark have an interview with Dr. Samuel Platt of Luthor Technologies at nine Monday morning.”
“What!”
It was the first time Cat had ever heard the person on the other end of the line display surprise. “Lois and Clark have an interview – “
“I heard you the first time!”
The voice fell silent for a long moment. Cat almost asked if there was anything else she could do, but she sensed that she needed to be silent for the moment. Then the voice calmly said, “Thank you, Ms. Grant. If this works out as I anticipate, I will guarantee a five-percent reduction in the principle on your debt.”
“Th-thank you! Thank you so much! I – “
“Is there anything else?”
Cat almost mentioned her lunch date with Lois on Monday, but at the last instant changed her mind. “No, that’s all.”
“Good. I appreciate that you’re taking your responsibilities seriously, Ms. Grant. Keep up the good work.”
The line went dead. Cat felt a surge of elation. Five percent! That was a huge chunk of money, whether it was five percent off the current balance or five percent off the original principle. Maybe she could eventually get out from under that huge –
And then it hit her. If the person on the other end thought this information was worth that much, what did that mean for Clark and Lois? Had she just put someone she cared about in serious danger? Were her friends, as well as her parents and herself, now in the crosshairs of an unseen assassin?
Her heart turned to stone in her chest. She had no choice. If she wanted her parents to live, and to live believing that their daughter was a good person, she had to let her friends walk into jeopardy with no idea that they were targets.
She hated the things she did. She hated the double life she lived. She hated having to choose between betrayal and death. She hated the person she’d become.
Instead of sending in her column and clearing her desk, she simply picked up her purse and decided to head for the nearest bar. Maybe she could get drunk enough to forget her screwed-up life for one night.
>>>Saturday, 9:09 AM
Lois put down the trash bags she held in either hand and answered the phone. I hate being interrupted when I’m doing housework, she thought, probably because I so seldom do housework. “Hello,” she muttered.
“Hello, Lois. This is Lex.”
Her irritation melted away immediately and she brought her free hand up to touch her hair. “Well – hello. This is an unexpected pleasure.”
She could hear him smile. “I’m gratified. Tell me, is there any chance you’re free for dinner and a concert this evening?”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm. Gee, let me check my social calendar – “
“Perhaps this will help you to decide. Glenn Miller Junior is appearing at the Paramount at eight and has offered me two free tickets, along with backstage passes. Are you free?”
“For Miller’s band? Of course I’m free! What time should I be ready?”
Lex chuckled into the phone. “I see where I rate on your scale. Do you like French food?”
“Only if it’s cooked.”
He laughed again. “Then, unless you have other plans, I will pick you up at your apartment at five-thirty this evening. I have made reservations for us at Chez Raoul for six PM.”
“Chez Raoul? Wow! Lex, that’s pretty fancy for someone like me.”
“It’s appropriate for the two of us, Lois. The dress code is coat and tie for men, skirts or dresses for the ladies, and formal attire is not required.”
“Won’t we be a little underdressed?”
“For Raoul’s, perhaps, but not for dancing at the Paramount.”
“Lex, that sounds wonderful! I’ll be ready.”
“Good. I intend to dance the night away with you.”
>>>Saturday, 5:57 PM
Rebecca opened the door and smiled warmly. “Come on in, Clark. You’re right on time.”
“Of course,” he smiled back. “It would be rude of me to be late, especially since I’ve got the dinner fixings with me.”
She canted her head to one side as he walked in. “What are dinner fixings?”
He chuckled. “My Kansas upbringing betrays me once again. It’s a Western idiom. Means ‘stuff for making dinner.’ I’d planned on chicken spaghetti.”
She chuckled. “You’re a walking cultural education, Kansas.”
“Thanks, I think. Kitchen’s this way, right?”
“I see you remember. Salad’s in the fridge below the tea.”
He opened the refrigerator door and nodded. “Looks great, Becca. I’ll get started on the chicken. Dinner should be ready to put on the table in about forty minutes.”
“Okay. Need anything from me?”
He smiled at her. “Just some of your usual scintillating conversation.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Okay. But just watch out for those big, scary words.”
He laughed. He liked her laugh. She was easy to laugh with. “I promise. Hey, have you heard anything else about that squid migration project you were working on?”
She leaned her elbow on the counter, close enough to reach out and touch him but out of his way. “Yes. We submitted the first draft to the master’s review board this past Tuesday. The message I got yesterday afternoon said that they’d submit it for peer review under the professor’s name, with our names attached as research and data analysis assistants.”
“That’s great.” He dropped a pat of butter in a skillet on the stove and started pouring water in a pot for the spaghetti. “What’s the next step?”
“The study gets published and all those jealous professors out there with their own personal and political agendas try to rip it to shreds to support their own pet theories.”
He frowned. “What about the ones who aren’t so jealous?”
“Those are the ones we want to hear from, the ones with no territories to protect. The conclusions we’ve reached are tentative, but they’re supported by the data, and if we’re right, we’ll have significantly contributed to the understanding of our precious little squid buddies. Maybe we can save them from extinction.”
Clark put the pot on the stove burner and turned the heat up. “I didn’t know they were a threatened species.”
“They’re not, at least not yet, but their numbers have declined for the past two decades or more. They’re not only a food source for larger predators, they hunt the little fish that might overrun the shrimp harvesting areas in the Gulf of Mexico if the squid aren’t there to keep their numbers down. If the squid aren’t around to fill those slots, their prey will reproduce wildly and overrun their usual feeding grounds, and the predators that take the squid will have to find other sources of food or their own numbers will be reduced. And that would have repercussions all through the ocean’s ecology.”
He stopped. “Wow. I knew the food chain was complex, but I just don’t think about it like you do.”
She smiled and touched his wrist. “Not many people my age do. Thanks for listening.”
“You’re more than welcome. Besides, it’s interesting, especially when you talk about it. Say, where’s the garlic bread loaf?”
“In the freezer, right by your head.”
He grinned. “If it had been a snake – “
“It would be frozen solid by now.”
They laughed as Clark put the bread on a baking sheet and put it in the oven.
This was nice, he thought. She’s fun to be around, and I don’t have to work hard to get her to like me. And she isn’t working hard to get me to like her.
Rebecca straightened. “How about some music?”
“Sure. What do you have?”
“Well, since we’re watching ‘Charade’ tonight, I thought I’d borrow a CD from the library with the best of Henry Mancini. We’ve got Baby Elephant Walk, Pink Panther, the theme from Charade, of course, and a bunch of others.”
“Sounds great. Have you listened to it yet?”
“Nope.” She slid the disk into the slot as Clark stepped up beside her. “I wanted to hear it for the first time with you.”
The mysterious opening notes of the Pink Panther theme oozed out of the speakers. Clark lifted his hands and said, “Would you care to dance, my lady?”
Her eyes glittered as she curtseyed to him. “I was so hoping you’d ask me, good sir.” She leaned closer and whispered mischievously, “Just don’t burn my dinner.”
*****
Lois was ready by five-fifteen. Then she looked at her hair and tried to decide if she had time to change it. No, it wouldn’t stay up if they were dancing to swing music, and it wasn’t long enough to wear up on her head, so down with an elegant comb on one side would have to do it.
She checked her dress, a slimming dark blue short-sleeve ensemble with pleated skirt. She twirled experimentally, then lifted the skirt to make sure she’d remembered the dark dancing shorts underneath. Wouldn’t do to flash her underwear at half the people on the dance floor, she thought, especially with Lex’s reputation to consider.
The knock at the door startled her, despite knowing it was coming. She glanced at the clock and smiled. He’s early. That’s usually a good sign.
She opened the door to see Lex standing tall, holding a modest wrist corsage. His light gray wool Armani three-piece suit was impeccable, as was his cream shirt. The only surprise was that he wore no tie, but had his shirt collar tugged over his coat collar.
She smiled. “Wow. You look very Saturday Night Fever.”
He drew in a breath but didn’t speak.
“Lex? Are you okay?”
He shook his head. “Yes – yes, I’m sorry, you just look – you’re fabulous, Lois.”
She blushed slightly and ducked her head. “I’m not as dressed up now as I was for the White Orchid Ball.”
“No, but now you’re dressed for an evening with me, and – wow.”
“Thank you.” She laughed and indicated the corsage. “Is that for me?”
He looked at is as if he’d forgotten it was there. “Oh. Yes, it is. I hope you don’t think it inappropriate.”
“Of course not. It’s a sweet gesture, and I like orchids.”
“I should have checked with you to see what color you were wearing.” He held it up beside her shoulder and blew out a breath in relief. “Good, it doesn’t clash. Here, let me put it on you.”
She extended her left hand, touched by his consideration. “It’s beautiful, Lex. Thank you.”
Then she raised up on tiptoes and kissed him briefly on the cheek. As she drew back, she thought his eyes betrayed surprise, then shifted to pleasure. “Asabi is waiting at the car, my dear. Shall we?”
“Let me get my purse and lock my door.”
They rode the elevator down in silence. Lois almost spoke twice, but changed her mind at the last minute. And she got the impression that Lex had done the same thing at least once.
We’re like two nervous teenagers on their first date, she pondered. Hope that’s a good thing.
Apropos of nothing, Lois said, “I hope Clark and Rebecca have a good time tonight.”
Lex lifted his eyebrows. “Clark and Rebecca? Are you saying that your partner and my receptionist are on a date tonight?”
“Yes. Why, is that a problem or something?”
“Of course not.”
“You aren’t surprised because your surveillance on Rebecca didn’t tell you about her date, are you?”
“Surveillance? Lois, I don’t spy on my employees! Their personal lives are exactly that, their own personal lives! I’m not – “
He stopped because Lois was laughing. He put his hands on his hips in mock exasperation. “I think, Lois, that this relationship is going to be very interesting.”
“Do you mean ‘interesting’ as in the Chinese curse that says ‘May you live in interesting times’?”
One side of his mouth twitched in a small grin. “Precisely.”
They shared a soft laugh as the elevator came to a stop. As they exited the apartment building, Asabi smiled impersonally at her and opened the car door, but Lois stopped before stepping inside. “Lex? Wait a moment, please. There’s something I have to do.”
She released Lex’s arm and stood before Asabi. “I assure that I did not intend to do so, Asabi, but I insulted you that day in the elevator. I am sorry that I implied that you would ever do anything that might harm your friend. I ask you to forgive me for my ill-chosen words, and to accept my apology for my rudeness.”
Then she put her palms together in front of her and bowed her head, waiting. She sensed Asabi glance towards Lex, but Luthor didn’t move or speak.
Finally, Asabi gently placed his hands around hers and said, “I will accept your apology, Miss Lane, if you will accept mine for misjudging you. You are indeed an honest and sincere young woman, and I am pleased to be counted in your circle of acquaintances.”
He softly touched his forehead to hers and she smiled. A breath she didn’t realize she’s been holding slipped out slowly and she said, “I would be pleased if we might become friends someday, Asabi. Thank you.”
“And I thank you, Miss Lane.” He stood straight and lowered his hands. “And now, I believe that you and Mr. Luthor have a social engagement to attend.”
She flashed him a smile as he held the car door open for her. His returning smile was restrained, but this time it was also warm and sincere.
As Asabi pulled away from the curb, Lex leaned over and said, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you now have at least as much of Asabi’s loyalty as I do.”
She sighed in relief that her apology had been accepted so readily. “I owed it to him. Besides, he didn’t deserve what I said to him.”
He smiled and patted her arm. “It is truly in the past now, Lois. And I must say that I’m impressed, also. You are the first woman Asabi has driven with me who hasn’t treated him like a common servant.”
She frowned. “But he’s not a servant. He’s your friend. Even if I didn’t believe you completely, he convinced me that day in the elevator. No mere servant would react as he did.”
“True. In any case, you have made a fast friend tonight.” He leaned closer and spoke quietly. “And now, it’s time to start our date.”
She leaned back slightly and gave him a look of mild challenge. “And how might we do that?”
He tapped a button on the panel in front of him and the bouncy strains of Miller’s version of “In The Mood” filled the car. “We can fondly remember our first dance.”
She laughed. “As long as I don’t have to duplicate it in here, I’m good with that.”
*****
“Clark, this is delicious! The chicken is so tender, and the spaghetti is so full of flavor. Do you eat like this all the time?”
He laughed. “Only when I cook. There are a couple of restaurants in Metropolis that serve the kinds of food I really like, but when I’m hungry for down-home Kansas cooking I either have to fly home or make it myself.”
Rebecca speared the last piece of chicken on her plate. “I guess you cook for yourself a lot, huh? Flying to Kansas and back here is so expensive.”
Whoops, he thought, I almost slipped. “Yes, especially if I don’t plan ahead.”
She drained her tea glass and wiped her mouth. “That was delicious. Now, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I need a moment to plan ahead, and then I’ll be ready to watch that movie with you.”
He stood. “Of course. I’ll clean off the table and – “
“No. My place, my dishes, my responsibility. Besides, you cooked it all.”
“Honest, Becca, I don’t mind.”
She smiled warmly. “No. I’ll clear the table and we can argue about the washing later.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Whatever you say.”
By the time she returned to the living room, he’d slid the tape into the VCR and was sitting at one end of her couch. He’d refilled their tea glasses, which were sitting on coasters on the living room table.
She grinned and flopped down beside him, close enough to touch him but not so close that she crowded him. “Hope we have a good cartoon coming up. I like Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd.”
*****
Chez Raoul was elegant, quiet, and full of understated luxury. Lois smiled at Lex across the appetizers and said, “This is everything I expected it to be. The food, the atmosphere, the ambience, the relaxed feel of the place, it’s all so wonderful.”
He returned her smile. “I hope you also like the company.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Actually, I think the company makes the most difference.”
He beamed at her and lifted his glass. “To the most beautiful woman in the room.”
She lifted her glass, then hesitated and asked, “Do you really think it’s me, or is that just flattery? I mean, with all the other beautiful people in here tonight, how can I compete?”
His gaze bored deep into hers. “It isn’t just the outside appearance, Lois, although I seriously doubt that I’d find any other woman in here to be more attractive than you. It’s your soul, your spirit, your inner self that attracts me. You are so very beautiful through and through.”
Touched, she lifted her own glass and clicked it against his. “To you, a man who sees more in me than I do.”
His face softened even more. “And to you, a woman who makes me want to be a better man than I am.”
The meal was incredible, thought Lois. And the food was pretty tasty, too.
*****
Clark picked up the remote as Audrey Hepburn told Cary Grant, “I love you, Adam, Alex, Peter, Brian, whatever your name is. I hope we have a lot of boys and we can name them all after you.”
Rebecca laughed as Cary responded, “Yes, well, before we start all that, may I have the stamps?”
Clark turned off the TV and turned to face her. “Well, what did you think?”
“That was pretty good. I’m surprised I liked it so much.”
He stood and took the tape out of the VCR, then put it in the rewinder. “You’re surprised that you liked it?”
She fixed him with a quizzical stare. “Are you asking me if I find some deep meaning in this skillfully executed but fanciful bit of entertainment?”
That didn’t bode well for the after-movie conversation, he thought. “I’m just asking if that’s all you thought about it.”
“Well, it was well-written, had lots of great characters and wonderful actors, had an interesting if unlikely and pretty convoluted story line, and having Cary Grant in any movie is a plus in my book.” She stretched and grunted. “All in all, it wasn’t bad.”
“That doesn’t sound like an enthusiastic endorsement to me.”
“No. I guess it isn’t.”
“Okay, so tell me what you didn’t like about it.”
She frowned at him. “Really? You seem to like it so much, I don’t want to knock it. I’d hate to think I was ruining one of your favorites.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m a big boy, I can take an honest critique.”
“Okay, you asked for it.” She leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees. “I thought Cary Grant’s character was manipulative and deceptive, even if he had a noble cause. He should have told her the whole truth much earlier.”
“Interesting viewpoint. When should that have happened?”
“Oh, definitely much earlier, like instead of telling her he was a thief.”
“But at that point, he still wasn’t sure she was all she was supposed to be. For all he knew, she was in on the whole plot and was working with one of the bad guys. Besides, he was still working undercover and couldn’t risk her blowing his secret, even by accident.”
Rebecca pursed her lips. “Maybe so. I still say he still should have been honest with her. She was completely honest with him the whole time.”
“What about that thing you said about not having to share all your secrets at once?”
“Come on, Clark! That was just a little more important than how you like your eggs or what kind of toothpaste you prefer!”
“Yes, but the nature of the secret made it necessary for him to make sure she was trustworthy.”
“Oh, right, like he did so much to make her trust him! How many different names did he use, anyway? Four? Five?”
The subject of one man’s true identity, combined with Rebecca’s rising intensity, was starting to make him uncomfortable, so he tried changing the subject. “What did you think about Audrey Hepburn’s character, Reggie? She was honest about herself and with everyone else the whole time.”
Her face abruptly changed to a frown. “That silly little twit? She was honest, yeah, but she was also gullible, naïve, emotionally raw and unsettled, weak, needy, and she didn’t think logically, not one time during the whole movie. She just bought every line anyone fed her.” She snorted and crossed her arms. “And she fell in love with this guy in like two days and wanted to marry him no matter what his name was or what he did for a living! She was walking around the whole time with a big sign on her back that said ‘Kick me, Lie to me, Use me, Take advantage of me!’ That woman obviously grew up in a perfect family where she trusted everyone and everyone trusted everyone else and no one ever lied about anything or cheated anyone or – “
She stopped suddenly, then stood and took several steps towards the kitchen. She slowed to a halt and slowly turned back to face him. “I – I’m sorry.” She fluttered her hands. “Maybe I should explain that – that little outburst.”
Softly, he replied, “You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to.”
She turned and wiped the moisture from her eyes. “No, I think I’d better explain, especially since I’ve been harping on people being honest with each other.” She sighed. “See, I rarely got to watch any movies when I was a kid, in the theater or on TV, because we only had one set and either my dad was watching sports or my mom was watching soap operas or the set was broken because – because one of them had hit it or kicked it or knocked it over during a fight.” She clenched her fists in front of herself and took a step closer to Clark. “And we never went out as a family. Never. My dad thought my mom had trapped him into getting married by getting pregnant with me, and my mom accused my dad of getting her pregnant and not taking responsibility for us. They fought almost every day as far back as I can remember.”
His heart went out to her. “Oh, Becca, I’m so sorry.”
She forced her hands open and took another step. “They split up when I was twelve. Neither one of them wanted me and we didn’t have any relatives who trusted either one of them, so I went into a foster home. The people were nice to me, took care of me, helped me in my academics and took me to dance lessons and science fairs and stuff, but we were never close. And young teenage girls with – “ she made quotation marks in the air with her fingers “ – ‘severe emotional needs’ didn’t get adopted, so I stayed in the foster program until I graduated from high school. All during that time, I didn’t go see them and they didn’t come to see me.”
She paused, and he asked softly, “Did your parents come to see you get your diploma?”
Rebecca stepped within easy arms’ length of Clark. “My foster family was there. My natural parents – I called both of them. I invited both of them. I wanted them to be there. I wanted them to be proud of me. I was sixteen years old, the youngest graduate in my class, and I finished in just three years. I was salutatorian of my class with a grade point average three-point-nine-six out of four, had a full academic scholarship to Stanford to study marine biology, and neither one of them bothered to come or call to congratulate me or even send a card. I haven’t seen them since and – it’s been eight years since then and I – I don’t – “
He reached out and gently enveloped her. Suddenly she was crying against his chest and holding on for dear life.
He stood still, waiting, his arms around her shoulders, until she wound down. She finally pulled back without looking up at him. “This is – this is usually where the hero offers his – his tender comfort to – to the distressed heroine who’s – too emotionally spent to resist his charms.”
He smiled and tapped her nose with one finger. “I think I’d rather help you with the dishes.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell to her chest. “You – you what?”
He took her hands and led her towards the kitchen. “I can’t leave you with dirty dishes. What would that say about me?”
“But – but I – what – “
He picked up a dishtowel and flipped it over his shoulder. “I’ll wash, you dry, okay?”
She shook her head. “Let’s just load them into the dishwasher!” She yanked the dishwasher door open and turned back to him with her fists on her hips. “And then you can explain to me what’s so very undesirable about me and why you don’t want me! Am I that ugly or that nuts or what?”
His smile faded. “Maybe I’d better explain first.”
She nodded sharply. “Get started.”
“Look, I think you’re very nice, very attractive, very desirable, and – “
“And it isn’t me, it’s you, right? I’m not at fault but you are? Oh, I hate that line!”
“Well, in this case it isn’t just – “
“Of course it’s a line! Just because I don’t date much doesn’t mean I don’t know a line when I hear one!”
“But there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for – “
“Are you gonna tell me that it’s you and not me?”
“Actually, it is me, and – “
“Wait! You’re gay, aren’t you?” She flapped her hands in the air. “Of course you are! Gaah, I’m so stupid! You cook, you’re kind to old ladies and animals, you’re not already dating someone, you’re sensitive, you enjoy watching old movies, you don’t want sex with me, you – “
“No! Becca, I’m not gay! I promise you that!”
“Oh, really?”
“Really!”
“Prove it!”
“What? How would I – “
“Prove you aren’t gay!”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Gay men don’t usually sleep with young straight women!”
He hesitated, wanting to be sure of her meaning, and when she didn’t clarify herself, he softened his voice and said, “I’m not going to go to bed with you just to – “
“Hah! I knew it! What woman would want you anyway?”
His face clouded and he frowned. “Lana did.”
Her indignity faded immediately and she dissolved into tears again. She stumbled to one side and ended up leaning against the edge of the countertop. Clark almost reached towards her, then stopped.
He didn’t know what to do. If he embraced her, she might melt down again, and if he didn’t, she still might. If he simply walked out, he might hurt her even worse. He was stumped.
She finally wound down. “I’m such an idiot.” She hesitated, then slowly took the towel from Clark’s shoulder and wiped her face. “You – I’m sorry – you aren’t Gary.”
Clark didn’t know who Gary was, so he kept quiet and hoped that his not being Gary was a good thing.
She sniffed hard, then blew her nose on the towel. “I’m sorry. Again. Gary was my sort-of boyfriend in high school and he – he offered me that – that comfort after my graduation, when my parents didn’t come. And when he was done with his – comforting – he got up and got dressed and I asked him to stay and he said no, he didn’t want a – a needy, pathetic hanger-on like me slowing him down.” She wadded up the towel and threw it against the wall away from Clark. “I guess I really was pathetic. Instead of getting up to clobber him, I just – I just laid there and cried.”
“I’m sorry, Becca. He shouldn’t have done that.”
She drew in a shuddering breath. “He told his friends about me – his ‘conquest,’ he called it – and pretty soon all my friends knew, and my foster parents even found out.” She tried to laugh but it came out as a splutter. “I kind of swore off guys after that.”
“I can understand your reaction.”
“I haven’t really dated anyone since then. At least not on any long-term basis with an eye towards permanence.” She frowned at him. “But then you come along and somehow you’re vulnerable and strong all at the same time and you’re Lois’s friend and she tells me you’re a good guy and you’re safe and then you make me dinner and bring that movie over about people not being what they seem and it overloads my defenses and you’re about the sexiest man I ever – “ She stopped herself and crossed her arms. “I’m so sorry, Clark. I broke down and dumped my emotional baggage all over you and now I’ve ruined your weekend.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again.”
“Everyone has some baggage from the past.”
“Yeah, but not everybody gets clobbered with other people’s baggage without notice.”
“I don’t mind listening if you need to talk.”
She shook her head again and rubbed tears out of her eyes. “You’re not a shrink or a bartender and I shouldn’t treat you like one. It’s not fair to you.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You expect betrayal from everyone you get close to, Rebecca. It’s a natural expectation, given your past experiences, but not everybody’s like that. Some people are honest and reliable, and I don’t mind having some baggage dumped on me if I can get you to believe that.”
She lifted her face and looked at him through damp pupils. “I’d sure like to know how to tell the difference between the good ones and the bad ones.”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “Well, if they offer to help you with the dinner dishes, that’s usually a good sign.”
A smile slowly grew on her face, and after a long moment she chuckled. “Yeah, that is one way, I guess. Hey, why did you assume I didn’t have a dishwasher?”
“Oh, that’s easy. Because I don’t have one, and when I was growing up, the dishwasher at my parents’ house was named Clark and he did a load of dishes after almost every meal.”
She wiped her eyes and laughed a relaxed, easy laugh. “I give up. You win. Let’s wash the dishes.”
“I think I’d rather load the dishwasher like you suggested. It’s a lot less work.”
She grinned and pulled the detergent out of the cabinet. “So, what will we watch next time?”
He stopped and faced her. “Next time?”
Her face smoothed. “Well, despite my nuclear meltdown tonight, I’m really hoping there will be a next time.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “I do too. But next time, I’m going to let you pick the movie.”
