I'm sorry. I was out all day yesterday, so didn't get a chance to post this. The weekend has turned out to be much busier than I expected.
Thank you to Beth, Kelly, and Carol for all their help in making this readable!
From Chapter 27
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.
Chapter 28
“I see you lost your privileged place,” I teased Clark as he sat down on the grass between us and his parents.
“Very funny,” Clark said, grinning at me. “You know I did consider trying to get things to work with Rachel so I could continue to have a better view of the fireworks. It really is the worst part of breaking up.”
I laughed lightly, glad Clark could joke about this.
“Do you want anything?” Chad asked us as he got up. “I want to grab a drink before they start.”
“I'm fine,” I smiled up at him, squinting as the sun hit me in the eyes. The fireworks started right after dark, but Chad had been insistent on wanting a good spot, so we had set up a half hour ago. The sun was just dipping below the horizon now, so we probably had another fifteen minutes to a half hour to go.
“I'll come with you,” Jonathan got up. “Martha?”
“Sure. I could do with a walk,” she said as she got up as well.
“I meant did you want anything, honey,” Jonathan smiled at her.
Martha smiled brightly. “Well, yes, I do. I want to take a walk with you.”
Clark's smile was still bright on his face as he turned away from his parents to turn to me. “So…,” he said, before trailing off.
“So,” I replied with a smile.
“I probably should have said something at lunch yesterday,” Clark said softly.
“Something about what?” I asked sharply.
“Are you okay?” he asked me, lifting his head to look me directly in the eyes as he did.
“Of course I am,” I said, turning to look at two small girls from out of town running around the grass in front of us.
“Lois…” Clark said, his voice still soft, but his tone leaving no doubt that he didn't believe me.
“I'll be fine, Clark,” I said, still not willing to meet his eyes. “I'm just still getting used to things here.”
He reached over and placed a hand on top of mine. “If there's anything I can do to help…”
I turned to him with a small smile. “Working with you again will help. I hope Rob says yes.”
************************
“Are you kidding?” Rob asked me. “Did you really think there was any chance I'd say no? A series of articles from Andrews and Kent? Will Perry White really be okay with them being printed here as well?”
“I don't know,” I admitted. “Clark is going to ask him today.”
“Well, if he says yes, I'm all for it,” Rob said. “And if he says no, I'm okay with you working on them as long as they don't distract you from your job here.”
“Really?” I asked. I had been sure that if Perry and Rob did not both agree, I would have to give up on the idea of working with Clark again.
“Of course. I'm not stupid, Lois. I hired an award winning journalist to write for the once-weekly paper of a small town in Kansas. I can't imagine I keep you challenged here,” Rob said without any trace of embarrassment.
I fought the impulse to hug him – Rob didn't strike me as a hugger. “Thank you,” I said instead, trying to infuse as much of my gratitude as possible into the words.
Rob's phone rang then and with a smile he turned away from me. I sat back down at my desk and opened the article I had been working on this morning before Rob came in – about crop predictions, of course.
A few minutes later I was pleased to have Rob call out and distract me from my writing. “Call for you,” he said and I leaned over to pick up the phone.
“Hello?” I asked, confused. The only person who called me here was Chad and he was on his way to Wichita this morning.
“So, already missing writing for the big city paper, are you, darlin'?” Perry's distinctive laugh came over the phone.
“So, you're okay with it?” I asked, assuming his good temper meant he didn't lash out at Clark.
“Okay with it?” Perry asked. “I think it's a brilliant idea and getting the Andrews/Kent team on the paper again is just an added bonus.”
“Well, it was Clark's idea,” I admitted quietly.
“Maybe,” Perry said and the quiet tone he took let me know that my tone had come through clearly, “but he always has his best ideas when he's working with you, so that doesn't surprise me.”
“How's he doing?” I asked Perry cautiously. I wondered sometimes if Perry wasn't as sorry to see me leave as he had pretended. Had Clark just sort of stepped in and taken my place?
“He's doing well,” Perry said, “but like I said – you both work better together than either of you do apart. Having Clark is good for the paper, but it doesn't replace you, darlin', and it certainly doesn't replace the Andrews/Kent team.”
************************
Clark came to pick me up at ten the following morning. “So, where to?” I asked him.
“I thought we'd start with Colombia while the rescue there is still fresh in the news,” Clark said.
“And how are you going to explain us being there?” I asked.
“I'm not. I'm going to fly us into an alley in Bogotá and turn back into Clark. Let the people there think we flew in by commercial means,” Clark said.
I smiled. It was the simplest solution, but I wondered how long it would take before our actions were considered suspicious. Then again, it was unlikely the Planet was read in Bogotá and given that the Smallville Press wasn't even read in Hanley (the next town over), we probably didn't need to worry about it too much. The readers here didn't need to know we were interviewing people in person, and neither did Rob or Perry for that matter.
Clark lifted me into his arms and we lifted off. It had been awhile since I had been flying with Clark and I smiled as I looked down and took in the landscape below us. I had forgotten how exhilarating this was.
“Tuck your head in,” Clark instructed. “The cloud cover is thin here and I don't want too many questions about what Superman is doing flying over South America so I'm going to pick up speed a bit.”
I leaned my head into the crevice between Clark's shoulder and his neck and felt him hold me closer to him. He was warm and from this close I could smell his aftershave. I idly wondered why he wore aftershave since I couldn't imagine he needed it, but regardless, I liked the smell. It was different than Chad's – more… I wasn't sure, but it suited Clark better. A moment later, I realized what I was doing – or at least what it must have appeared to Clark as if I was doing.
Why was I sniffing at him anyway? Could he feel that? It seemed like he might feel the displacement of air, but maybe he wouldn't notice it while we were flying? I had no idea how this might relate to his super powers.
I snuck a glance at him and he seemed oblivious to my discomfort so maybe he hadn't noticed. I breathed a slight sigh of relief. What could I possibly have said to explain my behavior? I felt myself flush slightly.
Really, that was not the biggest issue. I was a married woman. Moreover, I was a happily married woman. Why was I sniffing at Clark, whether or not he knew I was doing it?
I sighed. It was an accident, that's all it was. Clark asked me to tuck my head in, and there was nothing untoward about that – it was for my safety. Then, with my head tucked in, I happened to smell his aftershave. It was an accident, an incidental consequence of our flying. It meant nothing.
************************
“So?” Clark asked me as we sat in a small restaurant after the interview. We were eating something called ajiaco, a chicken soup that Clark said was common here.
“I think it went fairly well,” I said shrugging. In reality, the interview was in Spanish. While Clark had translated for me, it wasn't the same thing and so I didn't feel like I had as good a handle on what information we had as I would have liked.
“How should we split up the writing?” Clark asked.
“I was thinking we'd each go with our strengths,” I said. “I'd write about what Señor Padilla told us about what he did during the rescue and you would write about his life and family – what he was risking giving up by helping out.”
“Then we'll send each other what we have and try to weave it together?” Clark asked.
“I can probably do that – working on a weekly paper means I have more free time than you. Then you can edit it to make sure it sounds okay.”
“Okay,” Clark sighed. Then he gave me one of those penetrating looks again. “Are you sure you're okay with this?”
I smiled, “I'm more than okay with it, Clark. Really. I'm happy to be working with you again.”
He gave me a warm smile, leaning over to place a hand on top of mine. “Me, too. I miss you. Metropolis is lonely without you and Chad.”
“Are you not happy there anymore?” I asked. I had never really considered that before, but Clark had lost his closest friends when Chad and I moved to Smallville.
“No, I am,” Clark said, looking at his soup, “but it's not the same as before. I feel like my entire support system is in Smallville.”
“I'm sorry,” I said, feeling badly for him.
“Don't be,” he gave me a small smile. “Moving to Smallville was the best move for you and Chad. And that's what's most important.”
“Clark…” I said quietly, hesitant to put what I was thinking into words. “What if… what if it wasn't what was best for me?”
Clark looked down at the remains of his soup. “Do you think it wasn't? You seem happier now than when you and Chad were apart.”
“I am,” I confirmed. “But…”
“But it was best when you and Chad were together in Metropolis,” Clark said, giving me a smile.
“Well, yeah,” I admitted. “I know that's selfish, but…”
“Do you want to ask Chad to move back to Metropolis?” Clark asked. Then he shook his head. “You know, maybe we shouldn't talk about this. You should talk about it with Chad.”
“How can I talk about it with Chad when I don't even know what makes the most sense for us?” I asked him.
Clark smiled slightly. “I think I remember you telling me that you and Chad make decisions best when you decide together.”
“We do,” I admitted. “I'm just worried…”
“Lois,” Clark said, finally looking up at me. “You and Chad will make the decision that's best for both of you. You will. I'm sure of it. You love each other.”
I smiled. “Thanks. Maybe I needed to hear that. I'm not sure why, it wasn't anything I didn't know, but…”
“Sometimes it's good to get outside confirmation,” Clark said warmly.
************************
May 1995
I was a coward. That's the only explanation for it. I mean, clearly, I was having the thoughts before that. I mentioned them to Clark when we were in Colombia. Instead of telling Chad what I was thinking, though, I thought about it constantly, but said nothing.
I wondered if this is what it was like for Chad when he was thinking of trying to leave Met General. Why were we so afraid to tell each other that we were unhappy? Clark was right. We loved each other. I know Chad didn't want me to be unhappy anymore than I was okay finding out that he was unhappy.
Still, I waited. Working on the articles with Clark didn't help. I had thought it would, but it just reminded me how good working with Clark was – how much easier the ideas sparked, how much crisper my writing was and that was despite the fact that these articles contained none of the things I was consciously missing. No hard hitting stories, no deep undercover investigations. Just these human interest pieces. They were good, I knew that, but before I came to Smallville, I would have scoffed at them.
Sadly, I tried to bring the conversation up with Martha long before Chad. I'm not sure why. I couldn't do it, though. I started to and then remembered what Clark said – that I should be talking about it with Chad.
So, I did nothing. I kept living my life in Smallville. The problem was my life in Smallville was… well, for lack of a better term, small. Work Monday through Friday – the Smallville Press never required late night or weekend hours. Grocery shopping on Monday night (it was quieter than if I waited and went on Saturday and saved me some of the hassle of having to socialize). We had started going to church, not that Chad and I were religious, but it was something to do. So, church on Sunday. We often had dinner with the Kents on Saturday night and with Rachel sometime during the week. Not uncommonly, we would invite them all over for dinner and that would be another evening. Chad couldn't handle much more than that since - as opposed to me - he did work some evenings.
His hours were still substantially better than they were in Metropolis – his days were shorter and many of his overnights were from home. He was just on call in case someone came into the hospital, but the nurse would just call him if that was the case. The longest hours were the days he spent in Wichita – he lost some time in travel and he often stayed late there checking on patients he didn't get to see that often.
He was happy – really happy. That was clear. It made my unhappiness all the harder to take. More than that, it made it harder for me to tell him I was unhappy, so I kept not doing it.
Until about a week before Memorial Day. It was a quiet night – we were both home early and had no evening plans. I had made pasta for dinner – using jarred sauce, it was even an edible dinner. We were sitting at the table not talking which was rare for us when Chad looked up at me. In a completely calm voice he asked, “So how long are you going to wait to tell me that you're miserable here?”
