Clark’s hand had frozen as soon as the word ‘Superman’ was out of her mouth. Gently he turned her over to face him. Tenderly he brushed her hair back from her forehead, took a deep breath, and began, “That one’s a little trickier to explain. Just hear me out, and try to remember that at the time I thought you already knew this, okay?”
He looked worried. Whatever he had to say, he obviously didn’t expect her to like it, but she nodded her head.
“It’s kind of a case of mistaken identity. You see, Superman rescued you from the thieves and handed them over to the police officer. But then, once you were alone, it wasn’t Superman you were having that conversation with; it was me.”
“What? Clark, you’re not making any sense.”
He let out a sigh and tried again. “Superman is not your husband, Lois; Clark Kent is. Superman is a persona; a way of using certain abilities in public without the whole world realizing that those abilities actually belong to….Clark Kent. As soon as we were alone I dropped the persona and I was having a private conversation with my wife. But you didn’t know that, so you thought you were still talking to Superman.”
She was staring. She knew she was. She could see him clearly even in the low light filtering in the window from the street outside. Now that she was facing him, she noticed that he had taken his glasses off, and he really did look a lot like…”Superman. *You* are Superman.”
His mouth made a wry twist and he let out another sigh. “Not really. But, yeah, Superman is part of me. So is the Clark Kent that most people know. But he’s not all of me, either. It took me a while to figure that out; I used to say that Superman is what I can do, Clark is who I am. But you helped me see that the real me is a bit of both.” Lois was wide awake now, every ounce of her mental energy focused on digesting this latest revelation in a day that seemed one long string of revelations.
“Look, Lois, everyone has a public persona that is not entirely the real them; no one is exactly the same person at work that they are at home or with their friends. I’m no different. Except that I have two jobs, and two public personas. Superman is the public face of the powers, and because of that he must always appear in complete control of his emotions. Otherwise the existence of a man with those powers would be terrifying for the general public. Clark Kent is a well-known reporter, with no hint of superpowers. Otherwise we would never have a chance at a normal life. The whole me, the person I really am inside, is known to very few people--people I can trust and people I am willing to burden with this secret; because it is a burden, Lois, but it’s worth it.”
He paused to gauge her reaction, but she made no reply, just stared at him in rapt attention, so he continued.
“You know, obviously. My parents have always known. Dr. Klein at STARLABS knows because he’s also our family physician. We told Jim and Lucy when they became godparents and guardians for our children. And Perry at least suspects, but we’ve never discussed it explicitly. As far as I know, that’s it. We’ll have to tell the children when they’re older, but they won’t be ready for years.
“I won’t lie to you, Lois. It’s not easy being Superman, and it’s not easy being married to him either. It makes our lives complicated. It means you have a husband with two demanding jobs. It means I have more than the typical struggle to balance work and family. And having a secret this big is isolating. It means there are very few people we can be completely honest with. But, at least so far, we’ve both always thought it was worth it. And, I have told you this before, but, since you don’t remember, I will tell you again,” he was looking her straight in the eye now, willing her to understand, “You are my wife. You are the most important person in my life. If you ever told me that it was too hard being married to Superman, that you couldn’t be happy with this life, Superman would retire. You and our children come before anyone else. Superman is not mine. He’s ours. And he only exists as long as you and I both feel that he’s worth the cost.”
Wow. The lights were slowly turning on in her head as the implications of everything he’d said starting registering in her brain. Not only was she married to Superman (although she understood what he meant about her really being married to Clark), she also held a great deal of power over him as well. Clark Kent loved her. And because of that love he was willing, at a word from her, to set Superman aside. She had the power to destroy Superman.
“Clark, I’m stunned. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Lois, you’ve had a huge day, with a lot of stress and a lot of new information to process. Why don’t we both try to sleep; there’s no place we have to be in the morning, and we can just take things one step at a time.”
“Yeah, okay.” She was surprised to find that, instead of her mind whirling with questions about Clark and Superman, her mind seemed to be shutting down, perhaps in self-defense. Sleep sounded really good right now. But, as she settled further down into her pillow and closed her eyes, she felt like something was missing.
“Clark?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t you kiss your wife goodnight?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” And he did. And it was beautiful, tender and sweet. And, safe in her husband’s arms, she slept.
*****
Lois woke with a vague feeling that something delightful had happened, mixed with a niggling sense of anxiety. As she slowly surfaced from sleep, she remembered why: she had discovered, in one amazing day, that she had found what she had always secretly longed for and feared she would never find; she was loved. Truly loved by an amazing man. But that love came with a set of responsibilities that she wasn’t sure she could live up to. It had felt so wonderful to sleep curled up in his embrace. But now morning had come, and it was time to face her new life head-on. And she hadn’t the first clue how to go about it.
Just then she felt a gentle squeeze from Clark’s arm, which had been draped across her waist from behind.
“Hmm… Morning, beautiful.” He was starting to nibble at her right ear, still only half-awake. She rolled to face him, and his eyes popped open wide. He immediately released her and sat bolt upright.
“Lois! I’m sorry! I wasn’t fully awake!”
She sat up as well. She was probably as embarrassed as he was, but he looked so guilty it was positively endearing, so she scooted over to tuck herself under his arm. “Clark, don’t apologize. I think this is a wonderful way to wake up.”
Relieved, he gave her a half-hug and kissed her forehead. “I’m glad to hear it; I was afraid I was going to get my head handed to me.” After another little squeeze, he suggested, “I’ll use the bathroom first and get the coffee started.”
As she listened to the sound of the shower running in the next room, she stretched and looked around the bedroom. She’d been too pre-occupied the night before, but now as she waited for her turn in the bathroom, she tried to familiarize herself with her own home. She didn’t recognize most of the furnishings. It made sense, she thought, that they would want new furniture for their shared room; things that were neither hers nor his, but theirs. The furnishings were nothing fancy—the bed, of course, two matching nightstands, each with its own clock radio and reading lamp. On her nightstand lay a hair barrette, a casual watch with a leather strap, a Danielle Steele novel and a book by Thomas Freeman called The Lexus and the Olive Tree. Clark’s held his cell phone, a handful of loose change, a paperback novel by Terry Pratchett, and a book by Brian Greene, The Elegant Universe. Her old loveseat sat near the one window, someone’s robe thrown over the back. One wall was taken up with a wide closet with two sliding doors. Against another wall stood a low dresser, wide enough for two sets of drawers side-by-side. The top of the dresser held her jewelry box, an assortment of small, Shaker-style covered boxes, and a framed photo.
She got out of bed and moved in for a closer look. She let out a startled gasp and picked up the photo. It was a wedding picture. Her wedding picture. Hers and Clark’s. There were her parents, his parents, Perry and Jimmy, a man she didn’t recognize (must be the minister), and, right in the center with the happiest looks she had ever seen, Lois and Clark. She felt a bittersweet swell of emotion. This picture represented the childhood daydream of true love that, as an adult, she had given up on ever finding. Yet, obviously, she had. But she couldn’t remember it. Everything she was finding out about her life pointed to an amazing love story. She was just so frustrated that she had lost it. In her mind, it was as if it had never happened. A single tear escaped to slide silently down one cheek.
She didn’t notice Clark’s approach behind her until he placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She put the photo back in its place and turned around to face him. This caused her to come face to…not face…with a slightly damp and definitely amazing and very naked chest. She took a step backward and tried to pull her gaze up to Clark’s face. She noted thankfully that his lower half was wrapped in a sea-green towel. When she finally managed to look at his face, she saw that Clark was fighting to suppress a smile. When he couldn’t contain it anymore, he grinned at her and said, “Lois, it’s okay. I’m your husband; you’re allowed to look.”
She was reminded of the one and only other time she remembered seeing Clark in a towel, and she mumbled to herself, “I said nine. I thought you’d be naked.”
Clark burst out laughing. She had forgotten about his super-hearing. He was just so natural with her, so un-hero-like, that she found it difficult to merge the reality of Clark and the image of Superman into one person. She gave him a sheepish grin and rolled her eyes, happy to have a joke they could share together. “Yeah, well now I know how you can eat like an eight-year-old and look like Mr. Hardbody.”
“Yep. Now you know. Just let me throw some clothes on and I’ll get that coffee started.” He reached into a couple of drawers and pulled out a pair of boxers, jeans, and a long-sleeved cream-colored Henley shirt.
Lois backed away toward the bathroom. She gestured awkwardly as she stammered, “I’ll just duck in there so you can have some privacy.”
“No need, Lois. Don’t rush. Watch this.”
<Oh no. He wanted her to watch him dress? Married or not, she was not ready for this!> But before she could protest, or move into the bathroom, he became a blur of motion and in the next moment he stood before her, completely dressed, holding the towel. As he walked past her to hang the towel in the bathroom, she could almost swear he winked at her.
Clark headed downstairs to the kitchen and Lois was left alone to shower and dress. Standing in the shower, looking at the unfamiliar controls and trying to get the water temperature just right, she was momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer newness of everything around her. Nothing was routine. She had to think about every single step along the way. Even a simple thing like washing her hair was different. She needed three times as much conditioner as she normally used just to coat this mane. And how was she ever going to get it dry?
With a mental start, she realized what she was doing. She was focusing on the trivial so that she wouldn’t have to think about the overwhelming fact that *she didn’t know if she could do this!* Last night it had felt empowering to think that she was actually married to Superman. Now it felt terrifying. He himself had said that it was a difficult life. Worth it, but still difficult. Was she up to the job? He obviously thought that she was. He had a lot of confidence in his wife. The trouble was, whatever she had learned over the last ten years that enabled her to be that person, she had completely forgotten.
As she wiped the steam from the mirror to reveal her new, older face, she squared her shoulders and gave herself a stern look. “Come on, Lane. What other option do you have? You have to do this; therefore you can.”
Striding determinedly down the stairs a few minutes later, dressed in blue jeans and a cinnamon-brown v-neck sweater, her long hair uncomfortably damp down her back, Lois was greeted by the delicious aroma of fresh-brewed coffee. As she entered the kitchen, Clark put down his newspaper and stood up from the breakfast table. He smiled at her as he poured her a cup of coffee, added sweetener and creamer, and set it on the table next to a small breakfast plate. She was about to take a seat when he took her by one elbow and said “Hold still.”
Before she could reply, he stepped behind her and she felt a wave of warmth envelop her back, shoulders, and the back of her head. Her hair was completely dry. As Clark sat down at the table, he simply said, “Heat vision. Doesn’t frizz it like a blow dryer and you won’t be walking around in a wet sweater all day.”
