From Part 13:
"It was a grand adventure, traveling around, seeing all the sights, meeting all kinds of people. After a while I learned that if I liked a place I could pick up odd jobs and make enough money to stick around for a while. But there was always this fear in the back of my mind. What if something happened?” I.e. what if he got caught doing something super? “I didn’t know what would happen to my parents, so I never used my real name. I never lied if I could help it. I just used a local name, spoke the local language, and people saw what they expected to see.”
Lois’s eyes went wide and her wine glass toppled over into her lap.
*****And now, Part 14*****
“Oh!” Lois gasped.
“Are you okay?” Clark asked at the same time.
“I’m alright. Good thing it’s white wine. I’d better see what repairs I can make in the ladies’ room, though.” She shot him an apologetic glance. “I’ll be right back.” She hurried to the restroom, carrying her napkin with her.
Once through the door, Lois grabbed the edges of the sink with both hands, lest she crumble into a heap on the floor. Oh my God! How could she have been so blind? She’d spent an entire evening with him, before Superman was even invented. His face had been staring at her from the book on her nightstand for a week. She’d seen him just the night before—from a distance, the rat! And all those clues he’d dropped, whether he meant to or not—how could he not have expected her to figure it out?
Did he want her to know? Was he hoping she’d put the pieces together? She turned on the faucet and dabbed the water on her pants with her napkin, mostly to give her something to do while her mind spun in circles. Maybe part of him did want her to know. But he’d avoided her at the book store. In retrospect, he’d been a little panicked when she first walked in. Why? Why would he care if she knew him as Clark Kent instead of Caleb Knight? Did he think that one wasted interview would make such a difference in her opinion of him?
Then she remembered his words from the island. “I’m not sure that even I know who I really am anymore. Or that I like who I really am. And I’m almost certain you wouldn’t.” And her own thoughts about Clark Kent, “After a while, things at work would calm down and she would have time to worry about how to get Clark Kent to herself for a couple of hours without Lana Ross there to change the subject.” Well, this was one way to go about it. Lana wasn’t going to be anywhere near Caleb Knight, or Superman.
My goodness—the man had *two* celebrity personas. No wonder he relished the chance to be plain old Caleb, or Enzo, or whatever else his name was when it wasn’t Clark. Clark, who didn’t even like himself. Or rather, the role he played as himself. She was absolutely certain that the Bruce Wayne wannabe character was not the real man. Caleb wasn’t shallow, and he wasn’t fickle.
She wasn’t sure where Clark’s reputation as a womanizer had started. Probably at least half his dates had been just friends, like Lana, and the entertainment press believed what they wanted to believe. And Clark let them, for his own reasons. She wasn’t too happy about that, but the past was the past. She’d make sure Clark Kent didn’t have any more mysterious red-heads on his arm. In any case, she was certain that he’d never kissed all those women he’d been seen in public with. Not the way he’d kissed her.
No, Caleb Knight was twice the man that Clark Kent seemed to be. For that matter, so was Clark Kent, because, no matter what name he was called or what clothes he wore, he was always the same man underneath. There had to be a way for him to get out from under that façade. He was a good writer. His books were entertaining as well as compelling. There was no reason he couldn’t be honest about who he was and why he wrote them. He seemed to think that he’d lose half of his audience if he was straight with the public, but Lois didn’t think so. Maybe the flashy image had helped in the beginning, before his books were popular, but she was certain that Clark Kent could stand on his own at this point if he’d give himself the chance. He’d still be hiding his special gifts, but not his basic personality.
Except that those special gifts shaped his personality just as much as his values or his writing, didn’t they? What had he said in her apartment? “He can’t fly, and I can.” This new person, Caleb, that he was when he was with her, could never go public. The public powers belonged to Superman, and could never be acknowledged as belonging to Clark Kent. He might be able to bring Clark’s public image more in line with his true self, but it could never be his complete self. That kind of openness would always be reserved for a select few trusted people. Lois felt anew the weight of the faith that Caleb had put in her.
Meanwhile, she had to go back out there and face him. What was she going to say? Should she tell him that she knew his secret and it didn’t bother her? That was her first impulse. It might lift a big weight from his shoulders, free him to be himself with her with no more barriers between them. But some instinct made her hesitate. He’d seemed so relieved to have this new person to create. He’d said that the trouble with his real name—Clark Kent, she now knew—wasn’t only her perceptions, but his own. He’d said that the clean slate was a precious gift.
Well, let him have his clean slate. Clark Kent was on sabbatical, so the press release had said. Let him stay there. Caleb could have a vacation from Clark Kent and everything that name meant to him, and Lois would help him find the man that Clark could be happy to be.
***
Clark was getting worried. Lois had seemed more upset than a little spilled wine would warrant when she took off for the ladies’ room, and now she’d been in there for over ten minutes. He’d been raised better than to peek into a public restroom, but maybe he should send someone in to check on her.
Just then, the door to the ladies’ room opened and Lois emerged. She looked much better. Clark was sorely tempted to listen for her heartbeat, just to make sure she was as calm as she appeared, but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate that. Lois treated him like an ordinary man, and it would be a betrayal of her trust for him to use his special abilities in any way that would put them on unequal footing. That would be just as bad as Pete digging up ghosts from her past.
“Everything okay?” he asked as she took her seat across from him.
“Yeah,” Lois smiled as she realized that her answer was the simple truth. “Everything’s fine. I see the pasta has arrived.”
“Just a minute ago. It’s still hot.” The fusilli and linguine were heaped on serving platters in the middle of the table so that they could share. Lois spooned a little of the fusilli onto her plate and took a bite. Her eyes went a little wider.
“It’s got a kick to it.”
“Yeah, it’s one of those things to either love or hate. It’s got red peppers and anchovies in the sauce. Would you rather have the fettuccine? We don’t have to share them.”
“No, I’m a pretty adventurous eater.” Lois spooned servings of both dishes onto her plate. “I actually have a recipe for rumaki, but I’ve never been brave enough to try it. My cooking skills run more toward desserts, especially if they involve chocolate and come in a box.”
He smiled at her. “I’ll tell you what, then. When I’ve got my new kitchen set up, you can help me break it in. I’ll make the dinner and you can make the brownies. Duncan Hines is fine by me.”
“You have a new kitchen? Where? Not in Metropolis?”
“Actually, I bought a house this week. It’s on Hyperion Avenue. My mom is in town helping me get it furnished.”
“You bought a house. After your temporary assignment was over. Not that I’m unhappy that you plan to stick around, but isn’t that a big commitment?”
“Don’t worry, Lois. I’m not assuming anything or trying to pressure you. I was getting tired of living out of a suitcase, that’s all. If I stay, I’ll have a place to call home, and if you want me out of your hair, I can rent it out furnished. It’s in a part of town that’s got a lot of young professional couples moving in. The whole real estate sector’s been depressed lately, but I think it’s about to turn around. So, even if I don’t live in it long term, it’s still a good investment.” Only a man with Clark Kent’s money could be so blasé about such a big purchase, but he didn’t seem to realize that. Lois knew he hadn’t always had that kind of money. Until his career took off, his hometown’s claim to fame had been its annual corn festival—not exactly the high finance capital of the world. Still, everyone got used to living with whatever money they had available, and the rich were no exception. No wonder he wasn’t fazed by the loss of a $500 jacket. He’d just bought a $500,000 house on a whim.
“She wants to meet you,” he said.
“Who does?”
“My mom.”
“You told your mom about us? I haven’t spoken to my mother in over a month.”
Caleb shrugged. “I’m pretty close to my parents. There aren’t many people who know all about me. My mom and dad, a couple of close friends…” Pete and Lana Ross, Lois would put money on that one. No wonder Lana was so careful about what Clark said and to whom. “…and now you. It’s a pretty exclusive club.” And every other member of it was paired up, Lois realized. There were Mr. and Mrs. Kent, Mr. and Mrs. Ross, and Clark, the center of the circle but also the lone single person in it.
“It must get lonely.” She’d said that out loud, hadn’t she?
“Sometimes.” His eyes held hers for a moment. “Not as much as it used to.” He reached for his wine glass and took a sip. “What about you? You said you haven’t spoken to your mom in a while. Are you close to your folks?”
“Not really. My dad left when I was twelve.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been awful.”
“It was.” She avoided Caleb’s concerned gaze, discovering a sudden interest in the strands of fettuccine she was twirling around her fork. “But not as awful as the fights they used to have before that. I guess they must have loved each other once upon a time, but you couldn’t tell from the way they acted. My dad was always busy with his work or his women. After he left, my mom started drinking more and more.” She tried to shrug it off. These kinds of things happened to lots of kids, but that fact didn’t make it hurt less.
Lois knew that Caleb could see through her brave front, and she was grateful that he didn’t press the issue. “What about your sister?” he asked. “Did you really live together recently? Or were you making up the part about Lucy like I made up your Aunt Opal?”
“No, Lucy’s real alright. I guess we’re pretty close. We’re as different as night and day, though. My dad was always very demanding of me. I think he always wanted a son to follow in his footsteps, be the next great sports surgeon, or at least a doctor. When he didn’t get his son, he figured he’d make do with me.” She rolled her eyes. “So I was the typical over-achieving first born, but it was still never good enough for him.” She tried but failed to keep the sadness from her voice. “Lucy went the other way; if she never showed any potential, she’d never get any pressure. Her job was to look cute, and she’s still pretty good at it. She’s got a new boyfriend every month. For a while I was so jealous that I moved out of my mom’s house and went to live with my dad. Then, when I was seventeen, Dad realized that I was never going to go to med school. We had a huge fight and I moved out for good.” She tried to sound matter-of-fact about it. The last thing she wanted to do was cry on Caleb’s shoulder on their second date.
“So you’re the prototypical independent career woman of the 90’s,” he said cheerfully, once more leaving her dignity intact, though she was sure he hadn’t been fooled.
“Mad Dog Lane rides again,” she agreed. “I’m one small woman in a man’s world, but I don’t let it get me down. I live by three rules, and one of them is ‘Never let anyone else get there first.’ It’s worked pretty well career-wise, even if it doesn’t make me many friends.”
“What are the other two rules?”
“’Never get involved in your stories.’ They teach you that one in Journalism 101.”
“And…”
Lois realized too late that she never should have said how many rules there were. “’Never sleep with anyone you work with,’ she mumbled.
Caleb laughed out loud. “Well, in that case, I’m glad I don’t work with you.”
They both froze, eyes locked and cheeks on fire.
“Oh my gosh,” Caleb said, covering his face with both hands before peeking to see if the coast was clear, “I can’t believe I said that.” Lois couldn’t even muster the presence of mind to stop staring in wide-eyed disbelief. She searched desperately for some appropriate response.
They both were saved from utter mortification by the arrival of Mama Paola with a plate of tiramisu and two cups of coffee. For the first time since Lois had returned from the restroom, Clark looked around the restaurant. “Oh! I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten. They should have closed up half an hour ago.” He shot Lois an apologetic glance. “Would you mind if we take our dessert to go? I don’t have much in my kitchen, but I’m sure I can find us some coffee.”
“Why don’t we take it back to my place? I may not have anything else in the cupboards, but I’ve always got coffee.”
He gave her a warm smile. “I’d like that very much.”
Caleb said their goodbyes to Mama Paola, and it was time to go.
The walk back to the cemetery was quiet, but not uncomfortable. They were each content just to be together, Caleb’s arm around Lois’s shoulder, walking down the now-deserted sidewalk, listening to the rhythm of their own footsteps.
***
As they passed over the coastline and left the lights of Europe behind them, Caleb broke the silence. “You don’t know how good this feels, to be able to share all of this with you.” His nod took in the continent behind them, the water below, the night sky above. “I’ve had some terrific adventures over the last few years, but I always had them alone.”
“Well, you’re not alone any more. You can fly me off on an adventure like this any time you like.”
“Where would you like to go? There are so many wonderful places I want to share with you, I don’t even know where to turn next.”
“I don’t know. I suppose it would be nice to see the big landmarks, but what I’d really like to see is the places that mean the most to you.” Caleb’s brilliant smile told Lois she couldn’t have given a better answer. “Like Mama Paola’s tonight," she continued. "You were laughing at me for being a little jealous of Antonia, but I learned something about you. You help because that’s who you are. It doesn’t matter whether it’s lifting shuttles into orbit or helping a high school student with her algebra. It’s just part of your character.”
He gave a self-conscious shrug. “It’s no big deal. That’s how everybody is where I grew up. People help each other; everybody does what they can. I’m not some noble hero, Lois. It’s just that I can do some things that no one else can. I know a lot of folks who would do the same if they had my gifts.”
“And I know plenty of people who wouldn’t. Don’t sell yourself short, Caleb.”
“You do the same thing, Lois. You’re a terrific writer. You could make a lot of money if that’s what you wanted. But you choose to use your writing to fight for truth and justice.”
She gave him a playful slap on his chest. “No fair using my own words against me, flyboy.”
“Hey, you said it, not me.” The mutual admiration society was getting a little awkward. Searching for a new subject, Caleb landed on, “I really did love the article. How did it go over at work? Is your boss happy, even if he did have to play press agent for a few hours?”
“My boss is delighted, my colleagues are green with envy, my sister is jealous—she thinks you look ‘yummy,’ by the way—and Lex Luthor is finally returning my phone calls. I’d call that an all-around success.”
“’Yummy,’ huh? That isn’t the adjective I thought of when I first saw the Suit. But then, your sister isn’t the one who has to wear it.” The laughter left his voice, and he said, “Is Luthor going to give you an interview? I’m assuming that’s why you’ve been calling him.”
“I don’t know. I’ve been calling him for an interview, but I think he’s been calling me for a date. He wanted to have dinner or lunch today, but I told his assistant I wasn’t available.”
“That would explain why he had you watched. A wealthy man like Luthor is not used to being turned down.” Neither is a wealthy man like Clark Kent, Lois realized. He must have women throwing themselves at him everywhere he went. “Are you going to see him?” he asked.
“For a date? Of course not.”
“I was just wondering if you thought it would help your investigation if you got close to him.”
“Stop.”
“What?”
“Stop flying. I need to tell you something, and I need you to hear it.”
Caleb brought them gently to a halt and they hung, face to face, suspended between sea and stars.
“First off, remember Rule Number Two? Never get involved in your stories? That would imply Sub-rule Number Two-A: Never date the bad guy. Second, even if I were to try it, chances are it wouldn’t do anything for the investigation because a man like Luthor doesn’t let his girlfriend in on his business arrangements.” Gently, she held his face in both her hands. Her voice became a low, sultry purr as she said, “And third, the only man I want to be close to is you.” She reached up to press a soft kiss to his lips.
His arms came around her, and he mumbled against her lips, “Hopefully there’s no Sub-rule Number Two-B about not dating the good guy.”
“Hmm, hmm,” she replied, not moving her lips from his, “There are no rules for this.” She kissed him more deeply, letting her hands slip under his cape to caress his back muscles. She held him tighter and brought her lips past his cheek to whisper in his ear, “This, we’re making up as we go along.”
