It goes without saying that I had much help with this chapter in the form of my wonderful betas, Carol, Kelly, and Beth. Thanks, guys!
From Chapter 26
“So, have you talked to Clark?” Chad asked.
“Last night in fact,” she said, and she looked happy. “He said he won't be back for awhile now – something about being busy now that his partner deserted him,” she flashed a smile my way, “but he'll be coming back for the Wind Festival.”
“So, you guys have done it,” I said taking in her smiling face.
“What?” she asked.
“You're friends. You transitioned into friendship,” I pointed out.
For a moment Rachel looked startled, but then she smiled. “Yeah, I guess we did. I miss him still, but it's different now.”
“Even if you are an Old Maid,” Chad said, stifling a laugh at his own joke.
Rachel laughed as well, reaching over to swat at his arm. “Don't go saying that around the hospital. I don't need to hear it from anyone else.”
Chapter 27
February 1995
“So, what do you think?” Rachel asked me hesitantly. What did I think? It was huge! I mean, okay, for Smallville, it wasn't really, but compared to what we were used to?
“I don't know…” I floundered for words. “Do you know how much furniture we'll have to buy to fill this place up? It's like three times the size of our apartment in Metropolis,” I told her.
I'm sure, though, that despite my words, my face was showing what I really thought. I mean, I was a bit flabbergasted that something had opened up this quickly, but this place was perfect. It was even small by Smallville standards, which is what I wanted. Not a ton of land to take care of – or in our case, not take care of. A reasonable sized living area and three bedrooms, in case we ever… well, what Mrs. Dayton had said.
“It's perfect, isn't it?” Rachel asked, and I was reminded that Rachel wasn't Clark. She couldn't read me nearly as well, so clearly she had picked up on the signs that I was happy, but wasn't sure.
“It is,” I smiled. “I think Chad will love it, too. Thanks for telling me about it.”
“No problem,” Rachel smiled. “When Bob mentioned they were moving, I just knew the place would be perfect for you. He'll be pleased, too. It's not like the real estate market is booming here.”
“No,” I smiled, “I guess it wouldn't be.”
I was getting used to my new hometown, and there were lots of things I liked about it. It was charming – sometimes it seemed to me like this would be the perfect place to take postcard pictures. People were friendly and Rob was great. Most importantly, Chad was happy. I could see it everyday on his face when he came home from work – he was happy with his job in a way I had never even realized he wasn't in Metropolis, and he was happy to come home and find me there – happier than he had been when we were living apart.
What I wasn't sure of was whether or not I was happier than when we were living apart. I mean, on the one hand, I was sure I was. I didn't spend nearly so much time locked in my apartment crying; that was certainly an improvement, wasn't it?
Still, for all that Smallville had to offer, there were things I missed about Metropolis. For one thing, it was true that everyone was friendly here, but wasn't there such a thing as too friendly? I mean, did I really have to have a conversation with everyone I bumped into on the street? And to be fair, I had always avoided going to the supermarket in Metropolis (aside from that one trip with Rachel for Nutella), but did it really have to take so long? Surely it wouldn't in Metropolis as everyone else would want to finish and get out of there as well.
Here, it sometimes seemed as if grocery shopping was a social activity. Some days, I'm ashamed to say, I would peek down aisles and only shop in the empty ones. It was just so tiring having to talk all the time.
The other thing was that while Rob was great, and I couldn't think of anything he could do so that I'd like my job better… I was going to put a bullet through my head if I had to spend one more day writing about the stupid subsidies. Really, who cared? I'd talked to the Kents and their neighbor, Wayne Irig, and they both said they ignored them completely.
To be fair, I'd talked to Scott Wyeth and he was very interested – said in bad years 30% or more of his revenue could come from those subsidies. Still, did he really need this many articles to understand how this year's subsidies were going to affect him? I mean, if they could be 30% of his revenues, wouldn't he spend the time to figure it out himself regardless of what Rob and I said?
Still, despite all the issues, being with Chad again was nice. I was sure after I'd settled in more, I'd love it here. And the first step in that was moving out of the crowded cottage. No doubt, Chad was right and I would miss having the Kents right there, but we really needed more space than that small cottage provided.
Plus, this house was only a five minute walk away from Rachel, so we already had neighbors we liked. The neighbors between us, Florence and David Samson, seemed nice, too, although given that they were in their sixties, I doubted we had much in common with them.
************************
March 1995
“You look beautiful,” Chad smiled at me as I came into the living room.
“Thanks,” I said quietly. I was still feeling distracted by what a hassle it had been trying to get dressed. We had moved into the house the week before and had not finished unpacking yet. The dress had been easy to find as all the nice clothes had been hung in the closet the day we moved in. I hadn't found my make-up before tonight though as I had so little use for it here. And my shoes… well, don't get me started on how long it took me to locate this pair. All I had in the closet right now was a pair of black pumps and while those would match this dress I didn't want to wear them when I had others that matched this dress perfectly.
“So, are you ready?” Chad asked me.
I shook my head to clear thoughts of getting dressed and smiled at him again. “Yeah. You look great, too, by the way.”
“Thanks,” Chad smiled as he moved over to kiss me. “So, I did some searching and clearly there's nothing in Smallville to match the types of places we'd go to in Metropolis, but I did find a Japanese place in Wichita.”
“Are we having sushi for our anniversary?” I asked.
Chad shook his head. “No, they don't have sushi. It's more like that Japanese grill place we went to once. Hibachi or something, I think it's called. Remember?” he asked me. “Where you pick the food you want from a buffet and the chef cooks it for you?”
I nodded, “It was a mix of meat and vegetables?”
Chad nodded.
“Okay,” I smiled. “That sounds good.”
I followed Chad out to the car, realizing only now that this would be different than going out in Metropolis. Chad had a very strict no drinking and driving policy – he would not drink at all if he was driving later. His argument was that while he knew if he didn't drink much he could drive, if he was ever in an accident after he had had a drink he would always wonder if it was related and feel guilty.
This hadn't been a big deal when we lived in Metropolis – we just took the subway if we wanted to drink, but of course that wasn't an option here. Of course, I could drink alone, but on our anniversary?
Truthfully, while I understood Chad's reasoning, I still was willing to drive if I only had a drink, but I didn't do it often and I knew Chad wouldn't let me drive. He felt that this was his hang-up, so if I wanted to drink, then he should drive. He did occasionally ask me to drive so he could drink, but only rarely - like on his birthday or something.
Still, it wasn't like I needed alcohol to have a good time – I was a pretty light drinker for fear of turning into my mother, so it wasn't a big deal. It was just nice to share a bottle of wine on our anniversary. But if we couldn't anymore, we couldn't. Certainly being together on our anniversary, and every day, was the most important thing.
We were quiet on the drive to Wichita, holding hands and listening to the radio, but not saying much. Chad pulled up to a nice looking restaurant about an hour later and we got out. It was a bit noisier inside than I was expecting and even Chad looked disappointed when he realized that we were going to be seated at a large table with other people.
“It's our anniversary,” he said to the hostess. “Any chance of our sitting alone?”
“I'm sorry,” the girl said, looking sincerely apologetic. “This is our smallest table and we always cook for large parties at once.” Chad nodded his understanding as we took seats next to each other and introduced ourselves to the other people at the table.
The food was good and the chef did some amazing things with the utensils – throwing them around and stuff. So dinner was interesting. And the people we sat with were really friendly. Still, it wasn't quite the romantic evening I had been envisioning for our sixth anniversary.
“I'm sorry,” Chad sighed as we got back into the car. “I know that wasn't quite what you were hoping for.”
“It's okay,” I said reaching over to take his hand in mine.
“I wanted to take you to some music or something after dinner, but I couldn't find anything,” Chad admitted.
“Me neither,” I smiled. “I looked, too.”
“So, home?” he asked.
I nodded. We sat in the car in silence for a few minutes before I reached over and took his hand. “You know it doesn't matter what we do, right?” I asked him. “The most important thing is that we do it together.”
Chad leaned over to kiss me softly as he stopped briefly before pulling onto the freeway. “My thoughts exactly,” he whispered.
************************
April 1995
“I can't believe you're a Smallville resident,” Clark said as he looked around our new home.
“Be nice,” Rachel reminded him with a smile.
“What?” Clark replied, the picture of innocence. “I think it's nice that Lois has embraced her small town persona.”
“I don't have a small town persona,” I mumbled too quietly for anyone to hear. I was trying to put on a good front, but something about having Clark here was reminding me even more poignantly of all the things I missed about Metropolis. “Well get used to it. I'm a small town wife now,” I said more loudly.
Rachel smiled at me, but the smile was completely gone from Clark's face and I could see concern there. I was confused for a moment, and then flushed as I realized he had probably heard my first comment. It was hard to remember to watch what I said, even quietly, around Clark, and I was out of practice.
“Well, the place looks great,” Clark said, compassion in his eyes.
“Thanks,” I said, knowing I had destroyed the illusion of cheerfulness.
The door opened a second later, Chad whistling as he entered. “You're here!” he said when he saw Clark, and there was no question that his cheeriness was sincere.
“Good to see you,” Clark said as he went to shake Chad's hand. “Ready for your first dinner party?”
“The groceries are out in the car,” Chad said and Clark immediately followed him back out there to help him bring things in. Since Clark was in town for the Wind Festival, we had invited Rachel and Clark's parents over for dinner. We owed the Kents and Rachel for all the meals they had made for us and now that we were finally settled, it seemed like the right time to re-pay them.
Not that I would be contributing much to tonight's dinner. My cooking skills had improved since I got to Smallville, or at least the repertoire of what I could make had increased, but since this mainly meant I had added other “just add water” foods to what I was willing to cook, I still wasn't fit to serve food to others. Miley, the supermarket clerk, had suggested some sauces you could pour directly over chicken breasts and put in the oven, and I had tried that once, but I cooked it too long or something as the chicken was dried out and the sauce all congealed.
Martha had offered to teach me to cook, but I found the idea of it too daunting and turned her down.
“Is everything okay?” Rachel asked me when the boys had left.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” I smiled.
“I'm sure it's a big adjustment being here after years in Metropolis,” Rachel said.
I paused for a moment, trying to word what I was thinking. “It's just different,” I finally said.
Rachel nodded. “Still, I wouldn't blame you for being unhappy here while you adjust. I mean, there's a reason Clark and I didn't work out, right? I think Metropolis is great and not worse than Smallville, just different, like you said. But while Metropolis is just different, it's not a different I could live with.”
Clark and Chad came back in, Clark carrying the bulk of the food, just then, preventing me from responding to Rachel. I appreciated how understanding she was being, but then, she wouldn't be the person who would be disappointed if I decided I couldn't hack it here.
That was the crux of the problem for me. I was Lois Andrews! I could do anything! So, why couldn't I decide to be happy here? There was nothing wrong with Smallville. Chad had managed to be happy for years in Metropolis and it was abundantly clear that he was really more of a small town guy at heart. So, why couldn't I be happy in Smallville, even if I was really a city girl?
Obviously, the answer was that I could. I just needed to try harder. Looking at Chad's face, all lit up as he spoke to Clark about what he was going to make now that he had a real kitchen, rather than the small closet that passed for a kitchen in Metropolis, it didn't seem like it should be that hard.
************************
“Dinner looks great, Chad,” Martha said as she took in the spread around the table. She was right – it did. The sheer amount of food Chad and Clark had managed to produce was impressive, but in addition, everything looked wonderful.
“Well, it wasn't just me,” Chad said. “Clark did a lot of the work.”
Clark held his hands up as if to ward off thanks. “It was all Chad. I just assisted where I could.”
“Well, who ever did the work, it looks delicious,” Jonathan said as he spooned some mashed potatoes onto his plate.
As Rachel took some of the potatoes and passed them to Clark, she smiled at him. “So, how are you? You look okay, but you must be exhausted.”
I nodded to show I agreed and I could see Martha doing the same. “We saw the coverage of the rescue last night on LNN,” I added.
Clark looked down at his plate a minute before answering. “It was okay.”
“Were there a lot of casualties?” Chad asked softly.
“There were a lot of injuries,” Clark said softly, “But no, luckily not too many deaths.”
Martha leaned over to pat him on the hand. “Well, I'm sure that's largely thanks to you.”
“There were other rescue workers there, Mom,” Clark smiled at her.
“I know and I'm sure they did all they could. As did you,” Martha said, pride on her face.
Clark sighed. “I'm sorry. I'm feeling sort of grumpy today.”
“What's wrong, son?” Jonathan asked.
“I can't explain it,” Clark said, putting his fork down. “I feel like… I mean, I want people to be appreciative of what I do. But on the other hand, what did I do last night? I showed up and helped a bunch of people at no detriment to myself other than lack of sleep. And that made international news.
“But how many other men and women were out there helping last night, too? None of them are impervious to fire and lava and whatever else. They were risking their lives for others. Why isn't that news? Aren't they the real heroes? Even if I saved more people than all of them, it's not like that's because they are lazy or something. I just can do more. I'm lucky.”
Rachel reached over to place a hand on his. “It's not just that, Clark. It's not international news that you did this because you're you and not that anyone else was there because they aren't. It's because of what you could do. Those people are doing wonderful things and you're right – they should be heralded as heroes.
“But you could use your abilities to really hurt others on a much more massive scale than they could. It's news that you were there because we are lucky to have you – and I don't mean to have some super-powered Kryptonian, but you. A super-powered Kryptonian who chooses to make this a better planet for the rest of us.”
Martha smiled at Rachel lovingly and I thought of her words from months ago about how she would have been lucky to have Rachel for a daughter-in-law. “Rachel is right, honey. You are lucky. But so are we. You are a blessing. And not just for the people in this room.”
Clark gave a watery smile to his mother. “I'm only who you taught me to be.”
Chad reached over to grab my hand and I knew he was as touched by the scene playing out in front of us as I was.
“Right,” Jonathan said with a smile. “You had no choice in the matter – we made you grow up to be generous and kind. Could you explain how we made you do anything given that you could have thrown your mother and me across the farm by the time you were ten?”
We all laughed and Clark's sober mood seem to lift slightly.
************************
“So, I was thinking,” Clark said, “about that thing I mentioned the other day.”
“What thing?” I asked as I dug into my salad. I had to hand it to Maisie. Perhaps she didn't make great crepes, but her salads were excellent.
“The rescue workers in Colombia,” Clark said.
I nodded as I chewed.
“I'm wondering if Perry and maybe Rob would be interested in a series of articles highlighting rescue workers around the world,” Clark said. “You know, profile them - what it is they face when they go on these rescues, the training they've had to undertake and then the flip side – what their family situation is, their day job, etc. What they have to loose.”
“That sounds like a great idea, Clark. But Perry and Rob?” I asked.
“Well,” Clark blushed, “I thought maybe you could work on it with me.”
“What would I do?” I asked. “Come on, Clark. You can travel to interview these people and the stories are the type of soft, mushy stuff you write better than me. Besides, is there a readership for things like that in Smallville?”
“Doesn't the Press pick up the AP Superman stories?” Clark asked.
I shrugged. He was right – Rob did run those for the big international rescues. And it would be fun to write with Clark again. “I wonder if we could get some of them to talk about some of the rescue workers that didn't make it. Really highlight what someone gave up.”
Clark's face lit up. “So you'll do it with me?”
“Well, we'll need to get Perry and Rob to agree,” I reminded him. “But Perry will love this idea.”
“And you must be dying to write about something besides crop subsidies,” Clark teased me.
“Oh, I'm passed the subsidies,” I told him. “I'm on to crop predictions,” I said with a grimace as I stabbed a slice of cucumber a little harder than I needed to.
“Oh, Lois, I'm sorry,” Clark said and I could tell from his voice that he meant it.
“So, what are you working on?” I asked not wanting to give in and admit how bored I was at the Press.
Clark flushed slightly as he mumbled, “Nothing that exciting.”
I leveled him with a glare. “What are you working on, Clark?”
He looked at a point right over my left shoulder. “You know John Praught?”
“He's the senator from Ohio that's running for president, right?” At Clark's nod, I continued, “He's expected to win the Democratic nomination, right?”
Clark nodded again. “Obviously, it's a little early to tell with the nomination over a year away, but yeah, that is the expectation.”
“So what about him?” I asked.
“Well, there's some evidence of his working in collusion with Art Hadley,” Clark said.
“Art Hadley? Isn't he one of the candidates running for the Republican nomination? Why would they be working together?”
Clark shrugged. “I'm not sure yet, but if it's true…”
“It will be huge news. International,” I said, my voice quiet.
“Yeah,” Clark agreed, still looking over my head. Of course he was. He was working on a story of international importance while I was covering crop predictions for a small town in Kansas. How the mighty had fallen.
