Lois was folding her laundry when Caleb called late Saturday morning.
“Hi! What’s up?” she greeted him cheerfully.
“Nothing. Does it sound pathetic to admit that I couldn’t stand to go more than twelve hours without hearing your voice ?”
“No. It sounds sweet.”
“What are you up to?” He rolled his eyes at himself. He really needed to come up with some better conversation starters. He felt like he was back in junior high.
“Nothing all that exciting. Just laundry. I’m finally packing the summer things away now that there’s no hope for warm weather again before spring. I can’t believe I let another summer get away from me. I’ve had the same bikini stuffed in the back of my dresser drawer for three years. It’s still got the tags on it. I always think I’m going to get away to Ocean City or Cape May, but something always comes up. I never even make it to the city swimming pool.”
“Are you serious? You haven’t been swimming in three years?”
“Pitiful, isn’t it? What can I say—I’m an ambitious career woman.”
“No, you’re a workaholic in dire need of an intervention. You’re not working this weekend, are you?”
“No, I don’t have anything scheduled until Luthor’s interview over lunch on Monday.”
“You reached him already?”
“I reached his assistant, Mrs. Cox. Apparently she works weekends, too.”
“But you don’t. At least not this weekend.”
“No, but it’s a little cold for a beach trip in October.”
“Not in Borneo, it isn’t.” From the tone of his voice, she could picture the mischievous smile he must be wearing. “You pack that bikini and a toothbrush,” he said. “I’ll take care of the rest.” Thirty minutes later, they were off.
*****
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. You’re home.” Lois didn’t open her eyes in response to Caleb’s voice. Instead, she tightened her grip on the corner of the red silk cape which she had commandeered for her own use as a blanket and pulled it further under her chin.
“Five more minutes,” she mumbled sleepily, snuggling her face into the warm skin at the side of his neck.
Clark pondered his next move. It was very late Sunday night in Metropolis—or rather, very early Monday morning. Maybe he could take the risk of carrying her through her living room window. On the other hand, Metropolis was notorious for its night-owls. It wouldn’t do for Superman to be seen carrying a sleeping woman in such an obviously intimate way—especially not the same woman he’d taken off with on Friday in front of dozens of witnesses. So he stayed where he was, hovering over Carter Avenue in the dark.
He could have happily held her for hours, but she needed to get a good night’s sleep—what was left of it. When they’d arrived in Kuching on Saturday it had been midnight local time. They’d stayed up all night enjoying the city’s night life and strolling along the nearby beaches in the moonlight. Then they’d spent most of Sunday—which would have been Saturday night in Metropolis—at the beach without so much as a catnap in the sun.
He smiled at the memory of Lois in that bikini. It would not be spending the next three years in the back of a drawer if he had any say in the matter.
Late Sunday afternoon Caleb had suggested that he take Lois home so she could get some rest, but she’d wanted to see the orangutans in the forests along the Sabangan River on Monday morning. So he’d checked them into adjacent rooms at the White Raja Hotel and they’d both gone shopping for a couple of warm weather outfits and some toiletries .
They’d left Borneo right after lunch on Monday, which, through the magic of time zones, brought them back home to Metropolis in the middle of Sunday night. If she didn’t sleep tonight, and in a more comfortable position than curled up in Clark’s arms, Lois would be running on eight hours of rest in two days.
When the requested five minutes were up, he woke her with a kiss. “Mmmm…what time is it?” Lois asked, looking around to get her bearings.
“Almost two. You’ve got to be at work in a few hours. Time to wake up and go to bed,” he teased. Quietly he landed on the roof of her apartment building and, after setting her down and taking a step back, changed back into his blue jeans and new leather jacket .”
“I liked the shorts and tank-top better,” Lois pouted.
“I’ll just bet you did,” he grinned, “but I’d look pretty silly wearing them in this weather.”
“Almost as silly as I looked wearing a turtleneck sweater in 90 degree heat when we left Borneo.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem with flying between climates. It’s hard to dress for the weather.” They talked quietly as they made their way down the stairs and through the corridors to Lois’s door. “And I’m afraid you’re going to have a terrible case of jet lag. I should have suggested Tahiti instead.”
“No way. Then I never would have seen the orangutans or tasted Sarawak Laksa. And I don’t think you’ve ever written for the Tahiti Gazette, have you?” She looked over her shoulder as she unlocked her door. She was just in time to catch Caleb rolling his eyes.
“I can’t believe I told you about my freelancing days. You never would have known about the knob-tailed gecko if I’d kept my mouth shut.”
“I can’t believe you never mentioned before that you were a reporter ,” she said, stepping into her apartment and turning on a light.
“I’m not. A few freelance pieces here and there under various pen names does not make me a reporter. You’re the one with the Kerth awards. I haven’t published a newspaper article in years.”
Nope, just four best-selling novels, she refrained from saying. Her wide yawn put a stop to the conversation. “I saw that, young lady. Off to bed with you. I’ll call you in the afternoon to hear how your lunch with Luthor went.” He gave her one final good-night hug and kiss, then pointed her toward her bedroom and let himself out.
*****
Perry White had an open-door policy.
The primary and publicly acknowledged reason was that it encouraged his staff to come to him with problems or questions. The gruff exterior that he projected kept the policy from being abused. However, on this particular Monday morning, Perry was taking advantage of a secret side-benefit of the rule. Nobody in the Daily Planet bullpen realized just how sharp the Chief’s hearing was. At the moment, although he appeared to be deeply absorbed in reviewing the mark-ups for Tuesday’s Lifestyle section, in reality he was listening intently to a conversation between his office gopher and his society columnist.
Jimmy had walked past Perry’s open door with an armful of files and had just rounded the corner on the way to the records room when he was stopped by Cat, who was going the other direction.
“Jimmy! Hold on a minute. You’re just the man I want to see.”
Perry didn’t have to actually see the pair to know that Jimmy would be lapping up the attention, as he did from any attractive female. “Sure. What’s up?” came Jimmy’s predictable response.
Cat lowered the pitch of her voice, but, fortunately for Perry, not its volume. “What’s the story with the Ice Queen? Why do I detect a thaw coming on?”
“Who? You mean Lois?”
“Of course. Only a month ago she was as focused as a laser-beam , never even cracking a smile unless she was being lauded for yet another front-page scoop. Now look at her; she’s working just as hard, I’ll give her that, but something has changed. She looks positively…happy.”
Involuntarily, Perry’s eyes went to his star reporter, who was sitting at her desk rapidly skimming a stack of magazine and newspaper clippings, her pencil jotting occasional notes as she went. She must be preparing for her lunchtime interview with Lex Luthor. Now that he looked closely, Perry saw what had attracted Cat’s attention. At first glance, Lois looked just as intensely busy as always, but there was a certain lightness about her that was new. The corners of her mouth turned slightly up, as if she were prepared to break into a smile on a moment’s notice.
“And she’s got a new tan,” Cat’s voice continued. “I’m telling you, Jimmy, all the signs are there. The healthy glow, the happy look, the dark circles from lack of sleep that her makeup can’t quite hide…Lois went away this weekend. To somewhere warm and tropical. Nobody does that alone . So spill. Who’s the guy?”
To Jimmy’s credit, he answered with more presence of mind than Perry would have expected. “It’s not like it’s some big secret, Cat, but if you want to know about Lois’s love life, I think the person you need to ask is Lois.”
After that, Perry heard Jimmy’s footsteps retreat down the hall. Then he saw Cat saunter nonchalantly toward the snack area. Her path took her right past Lois’s desk, where she slowed her pace just long enough to take a surreptitious look at the open calendar. It was a good thing that Daily Planet employees were off limits for Cat’s column.
However, there were no limits to Perry’s own curiosity. It was time to find a way to meet the mysterious Mr. Knight.
Fortunately, Perry didn’t have long to wait for an excuse. Lois had just returned from lunch when Perry’s phone rang. It was Gus from accounting begging off from the monthly Monday night poker game. Perry made a show of disappointment. “What do you mean you can't make it? The poker game starts in a few hours. Where am I supposed to find another player at the last minute?” He spoke a little louder than was strictly necessary. Lois couldn’t help but overhear. Not bothering to listen to Gus’s excuse, Perry cut him off with a resigned-sounding, “All right, all right...” When he hung up, he made a bee-line for Lois’s desk.
***
True to his word, Caleb called at 3:00. When Lois picked up, he got straight to the point. “So? How did it go? Does Lex Luthor still have all his digits intact?”
Lois couldn’t help laughing, even though it made Eduardo look up from the desk across from hers. “Yes. He never even touched me. Not that he didn’t hint at a future dinner date, but I made it very clear that the meeting was strictly business.”
“And you think he’s going to take that lying down?”
“Luthor’s not stupid, Caleb. He knows how to project the Perfect Gentleman image. Continuing to pursue someone who’s made it clear that she’s already in a serious relationship would only be a distraction for him. And he’s not particularly interested in me personally, anyway . He was just miffed that he wasn’t at the top of my priority list. I made sure to stroke his ego enough that he’ll feel properly appreciated—as Metropolis’s Great Philanthropist, if not as its Most Eligible Bachelor.”
A metallic clang in the background made her ask, “Where are you?”
“In the equipment shed. Dad wanted some help fixing the combine.”
“So you’re talking to me and fiddling with farm machinery at the same time? That’s impressive multitasking.”
“Nope. Dad’s the mechanic. All I’m doing it holding it up for him. He has to get to some of the parts on the underside.”
“I see. He’s got a lot of trust in you not to drop it on his head.”
“Nah, I wouldn’t do that. Mom would tan my hide for sure. Speaking of Mom, she wants to know when I’m bringing you out here for a ‘real home-cooked meal.’”
“That means to meet your boyfriend’s old man!” came a friendly-sounding voice from the background.
“Dad! Don’t scare her off!” Caleb scolded good-naturedly. Then to Lois, “Seriously, are you free tonight? Mom’s making beef Burgundy and pecan pie.”
“I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m not sure how long it’s going to take me to write up my Luthor piece, and I’ve got to be back here by 9:00. I promised Perry I would be at his monthly poker game. One of the regulars already backed out. In fact, he wanted me to ask you to fill in.”
“Uh oh. Your boss wants to meet the new boyfriend.”
“You got it.”
“Okay. I think one family meeting a night is plenty. We’ll make it your ‘family’ tonight, the rest of mine another time. Tell your boss I’ll be there. Do you want to have dinner together first? In Metropolis, I mean.”
“No. You stay and visit with your folks. Tell them I really do wish I could come. I had a great time with your mom last week.”
“I will. I know she enjoyed seeing you too. Should I swing by your place around 8:30?”
“That sounds great. I’ll see you tonight.”
***
Clark closed his phone and slid it back into his hip pocket.
“You can put that down now.” Jonathan closed his toolbox and placed it carefully on a shelf before wiping his hands on a clean rag. “What are you going to tell him?” he asked.
Clark set the combine down gently and turned to face his dad. “Tell who?”
“Lois’s boss. I take it he’s sort of a father figure ?”
“Yeah, I think so. She talks about him like a favorite uncle sometimes.”
“Uh huh. And he wants to meet you. Which means he wants to know if you’re good enough for his little girl. So what are you going to tell him? That you’re an unemployed dockhand just passing through town? That’s not going to go over well. That you’re a famous writer but you don’t want Lois to know yet? That’s not any better. You’ve woven yourself a pretty tangled web, son .”
Clark frowned and ran a hand through his hair. “I hadn’t thought about a cover story. I don’t need one with Lois. But you’re right; anybody else is bound to ask what I do for a living. Got any brilliant ideas?”
“Oh, no. I thought you should have been straight with Lois in the first place. You’re the one with the identity crisis; you figure it out. Now come on—I promised your mom I’d get that pile of gravel spread on the driveway before dinner.”
*****
Lois thought Caleb seemed a little distracted on the way to the game. “Nervous?” she asked, laying a hand on his knee in the back of the cab.
“A little. I know Mr. White is your boss and not your dad, but I do feel like I’m being brought home to meet your parents.”
“Well, I guess the Planet does feel like home in some ways, but you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re a great guy. Perry’s going to like you fine. Especially if he wins a few dollars off of you.”
“Is that a subtle hint to throw the game?”
“No. I already told you—I don’t do subtle. Just make sure he’s at least $50 up by the end of the night. But don’t make it look obvious.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled at her, but then his expression grew worried instead. “My dad brought up a potential problem. What’s the first conversation starter with any new acquaintance?”
Lois shrugged. “I don’t know. I usually ask people where they’re from or what they do…ah. I see what you mean. We need a cover story.”
“We?”
“Of course ‘we.’ I’m not going to leave you hanging. What good is a partner in crime if she can’t cover your rear end now and then?”
“Partners in crime? Is that what we are?”
“Among other things.” She nudged his knee with hers, a suggestive smile playing at her lips before she turned back to the business at hand. “You said Jimmy’s already been drilling you. What have you told him?”
“Not much. He asks things like what kind of music I like and whether I think Kowalski will be back next year. That, and none-too-subtle things like how we liked the movie last night. He’s never asked me about my work.”
For a moment she was lost in thought, but then it came to her. “I’ve got it. You’re a freelance reporter .”
“No, I *was* a freelance reporter. Over four years ago. For only half a dozen stories under different pen-names in newspapers nobody’s ever heard of.”
“Caleb, work with me here. We’re inventing a cover, not an autobiography. You came into town chasing the Superman story like everybody else. We met after the Carlin Building explosion.”
“And you didn’t immediately blow me off as a hack from Nowheresville because…?”
“Good point. Let me think.” There was a long pause. “Okay, strike the Carlin Building. We met in line at the Clark Kent book signing. It was a Friday night at the Inkwell. The line was long and we struck up a conversation.”
“Okay. And I ask again—you didn’t immediately blow me off because…”
“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. I was bored out of my skull and you *are* very handsome. Stranger things have happened.”
“I suppose they have at that,” he grinned. “So, we met at Kent’s book signing, got talking in line, found we had something in common, stayed for coffee afterwards…”
“And the rest is history.”
“But since, like every other reporter in town, I lost the Superman scoop to the great Lois Lane, why am I still here ? Besides the obvious reason of being utterly enamored with you?”
“Oh, that’s easy. You stumbled onto something big, but you aren’t ready to go public with it yet. You’re still looking into it, so of course we all understand why you can’t talk about it.”
“You’re brilliant.”
“I know. That’s why you love me.”
“Among other things.” He picked up her hand and kissed it. Before he could do more than that, the taxi pulled up in front of the Daily Planet.
*****
Clark tossed two chips into the pile in the center of the conference room table. “Twenty,” he said casually.
“Too rich for me.” Lois folded her cards and leaned back to watch the others.
“I’ll see your twenty and raise you…how much do you make?” Perry white teased.
“Not a cent unless I sell a story,” Clark answered easily. Which, come to think of it, was true—if you didn’t count investment income. And merchandising fees for Superman, but those went straight to the Foundation.
“I’m just pulling your leg, son.” Giving Clark a quick once-over, Perry mused, “You don’t look like you’re in danger of missing a meal. Let’s call it another fifty.”
Clark glanced at his own cards, then at Perry White, who grinned back at him like a frog that had swallowed a june bug.
“Now take your time, son. Make the right decision,” Perry said.
“You know who'd be a great poker player?” Jimmy asked. “Superman.”
Perry gave his underling an impatient glance. “Next time we'll invite him.”
“I don't know if Superman gambles,” Lois put in.
“I’m almost certain he doesn’t,” Clark said. “Wouldn’t fit the Boy Scout image.”
“In his case it's not gambling,” Jimmy argued.
“Hey!” Perry interrupted. “Shut up and let the man think.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Clark said. “I forgot you were waiting on me.” He tossed a few more chips in the pile. “Seventy to you.”
Oblivious to his boss’s scowl, Jimmy whispered, “The guy's got x-ray vision. He could read everyone else's cards.”
“Jimmy!” Perry finally had the young man’s attention. “We all get it. But Superman isn’t here, so will you please just *be quiet* and let us play?” Jimmy’s eyes got wide and he nodded in silent assent.
Turning back to Clark with a disgusted grunt, Perry said, “Fold.”
His displeasure only lasted for one round. The lead went back and forth a few times, but by the end of the night, Perry was ahead by $100. In the meantime, he was accomplishing exactly what he’d hoped to. He’d pumped Caleb for information about his current project—something very big and very hush-hush that the young man politely refused to discuss. He’d quizzed him about his past experience. “Ask him about the mating rituals of knob-tailed geckos,” Lois had suggested gleefully. And they’d had a friendly debate about the comparative merits of Elvis Presley and Louis Armstrong as candidates for American Musician of the Century.
Mostly, Perry watched Lois watching Caleb, and vice-versa. Everything about the way those two looked at each other, spoke to each other, even gave each other surreptitious little touches when they thought no one was looking—everything pointed to one inescapable conclusion. Lois was indeed in love, as Perry had suspected. But the good news was, so was Caleb Knight.
This was going to be fun to watch .
