From Part 3
Clark slipped his hand into his pants pocket and retrieved the clean, folded handkerchief. He offered it to her. Lois took it with a little smile and used it to dry her eyes. “You said something about going to her place,” Clark said.
“Yes, she wants to go back into the house. The boys are with the neighbour. She doesn’t want to run into Dan, especially if she’s alone with the boys, so she would like you to go with her.”
“Of course,” Clark agreed. “How long ago did she leave?”
“About five minutes ago.” Lois smiled up at him, melting his heart. “Thanks for coming.”
“I always come for you, you know that.”
Her smile deepened and her fingers trailed down his cheek. “You’ve been coming whenever I call for a long time now.”
He answered her smile. He was about to say he would always come whenever she called, but stopped himself. He hugged her briefly and forced himself to step away. “I should go,” he said. “I won’t be able to make lunch. Sorry.”
She turned him to her and kissed him – directly to his mouth and straight into his heart. “That’s OK.” He reached for the door handle. “Clark?” she said.
He turned back to her. “Uhm?”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Thanks ... thanks for being who you are.”
He waved a casual acknowledgement of her words and turned quickly away.
This was getting more difficult with each passing minute.
Part 4
That evening, Lois sat at her huge desk and stared ahead, seeing nothing.
It was late – but that was normal now. Since taking over from Perry White, she had stubbornly refused to leave the office until the paper was put to bed.
She’d finished over half an hour ago, but hadn’t moved from her desk. Instead of shutting down her computer and wearily picking up her bag, Lois had collapsed into her comfortable chair and absently twirled a pencil as her mind churned through a labyrinth of reflection.
Her thoughts had travelled to her sister. Lucy, who had awoken this morning with the blissful belief that all was right in her world. That her husband loved her; that her marriage was strong and her boys were happy and healthy.
Just a few hours later, her world was in turmoil. By now, she’d probably put the boys to bed. Would they sense something was wrong? In the way of small children, would they pick up on their mother’s distress? Would it make them restless and difficult to settle? Dan was often away working, so his absence wouldn’t alert them that their lives had changed forever.
Once the boys were asleep, how would Lucy cope with having little to occupy her mind except for the one thing she probably didn’t want to think about? She would be alone ... and coming to terms with the harsh reality that this was her life now. Again, in practice, it wouldn’t be that different. But all the other evenings she’d spent alone, she would have been secure in the knowledge that her husband was working and would come home to his family.
Now she knew differently – he wasn’t at work, he was with another woman. And he wouldn’t be coming home.
Lois sighed. Lucy’s heart must feel like a chunk of lead inside her chest.
Had Lucy suspected?
Had there been anything – any slight loosening of the bond between husband and wife, any small clue that Dan’s heart and body had wandered? Had there been anything that could have prepared Lucy for the sight she’d encountered when she’d walked into her bedroom this morning?
If there had been, Lucy had said nothing to Lois. The sisters had a reasonably good relationship ... had, occasionally, experienced times of closeness when they had more openly shared their feelings and hopes and dreams.
But ... this last year.
Lois sighed.
This last year.
This last year, her life had been nothing ... except work.
And in her single-mindedness, she had so ignored Clark there was now a distance between them that frightened her.
A distance she hadn’t even noticed until today.
He hadn’t wanted to go to lunch with her.
Not *couldn’t*, but hadn’t wanted to.
Mid-afternoon, Lois had called the children’s hospital and asked questions as if she were a reporter working on a story. Thankfully the nurse who answered the phone hadn’t known enough about the running of a newspaper to question why the Editor-In-Chief was personally chasing up a heart-warming, but hardly earth-shattering story.
Superman’s visit had been a surprise. A very welcome surprise, the nurse had hastened to add, but the hospital had had no prior arrangement with the superhero.
So Clark had used it to avoid their lunch date.
Was it relevant that he’d gone to a *children’s* hospital?
Did doing this help him overcome his disappointment that there would be no children in his home? Was this his way of coping? Did he use these activities the way she had used her job? As a means of trying to fill the void of their childlessness?
Lois felt her tears rise again. She straightened and wiped them away before they could gain a foothold. She needed to think – or better, act – not dissolve into an emotional mess. She picked up her phone and punched in her home number.
After a short wait, she heard Clark’s voice, but her pleasure was immediately quashed by the sinking realisation that it was the answering machine.
Another layer of shame seeped through her conscience. She had very little idea of what Clark did with his evenings. She spent her evenings at the Planet – and had done so almost every day since she had become the Editor-in-Chief. She thought about it now. In the beginning, Clark had probably gone home and eagerly awaited her, ensuring everything would be perfect for her when she arrived.
But as her arrival times had become later and more erratic, he had probably grown tired of waiting – of spending his evenings alone. She vaguely remembered seeing a story in the Star about an initiative to give teenagers something to do in the evenings. About how a hall had been made available for volunteers to provide homework help and a warm meal and activities such as sports and games for kids who would otherwise be unsupervised while their parents ... Lois gulped. While their parents were not at home.
The name Clark Kent had been mentioned in passing as one of the volunteers. Her husband, while not missing his parents, probably felt an affinity with the kids whose parents worked long into the evening.
Is that where he was now?
She didn’t know. Because, she hadn’t asked.
In fact, she hadn’t given one thought to what Clark did after he left the Planet and headed to the home they were supposed to share.
Why had he been so determined to avoid her today?
Had he engineered his whole-day busyness? Or was it just that the events of the day had conspired against them?
If it weren’t for her call to the hospital, Lois could have accepted that it was just the natural consequence of two people having busy lives. Three people, if you counted Superman.
But the knowledge that Clark’s visit to the hospital wasn’t pre-planned – that sat tense and rigid in her stomach.
She reached for her mouse to close down her computer, intending to go home and wait for Clark. She wanted to be there for him when he got in – to hold him, talk to him, listen to him, just *be* with him.
But, her hand stalled - she ... *they* needed more than that.
Much more than that. It was going to take more than one evening to bridge this remoteness that had developed between them. To reassure Clark that, despite this past year, she loved him deeply and was wholly committed to their marriage.
It needed to be something dramatic.
Something that made a strong statement and began to regain the ground they had lost.
Something that helped Clark forget the long evenings he’d spent alone.
They needed to get right out of Metropolis. If she were here, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from analysing every edition of the Daily Planet. She needed to go to a place where it didn’t exist. Where she could clear her mind of all the stresses of her job and simply fill it with her husband.
She opened her internet browser, googled ‘relaxing, romantic getaways’ and began her research.
||_||
An hour later, Lois unlocked her front door. “Clark?” she called. “Are you home, honey?”
She knew from her repeated phone calls that it was unlikely Clark was home, but she hadn’t been able to completely smother her excitement at seeing him.
She dropped her almost-empty bag – she had removed all the work and left it on her desk – and her keys on the table. The downstairs lights were off. It was after eleven – perhaps Clark had already gone up to their room.
As Lois skipped up the stairs, her hope bubbled again, refusing to be subdued even by the wave of chagrin at how long it had been since she had felt this sort of anticipation at the prospect of being with Clark. She leapt up the final step and burst into their bedroom.
It was dark. She switched on the light, hoping he would be in the bed.
The bed was empty – tidy, made, deserted.
Lois’s disappointment flooded through her. Someone somewhere needed Superman.
But she needed Clark.
She slumped onto the bed, struggling against the rise of tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She looked around the bedroom. It was a quiet, empty, lonely place without him.
How many hours had Clark spent here, waiting for her? Hoping she would join him early enough that they could have time together before exhaustion claimed her?
Lois backhanded the few tears that had pushed through her defences. She crossed the room to the telephone and called Lucy. It was late, but if Lucy were in bed, the answering machine would deal with her call. And tomorrow morning, Lucy would know that her sister had been thinking of her.
She heard the click as her call was answered. “Lois.” Lucy’s voice sounded thick enough that Lois could easily imagine she had been crying.
“Are you all right?” Lois asked.
“The boys are finally asleep.”
“Did you see Dan today? Later, I mean?”
“Didn’t Clark tell you?”
No – the one time Clark had come into her office, Lois had been on the phone. He’d nodded, lifted his hand in acknowledgement and left her to her call. By the time she’d hung up, he had gone from the office. “No,” Lois told Lucy. “I was busy when he came in.”
“Dan was there when Clark and I went into the house with the boys,” Lucy said. “Clark was wonderful, Lois. He stood beside me – so calm and reassuring. Dan told him this was none of Clark’s business and ordered him from the house, but Clark said he was staying until I told him to leave. Dan got angry and said some horrible things and without Clark, it would have been just awful. After Dan had gone, Clark helped me to comfort the boys, then he made me coffee and sat down with me and let me talk. He wasn’t judgmental or disapproving. He was so incredibly understanding and supportive.”
That was Clark; that was exactly Clark.
Lucy continued. “I could, perhaps, have forgiven the affair over time. What I can’t forgive is that Dan tried to make this my fault. He asked me what I expected a man to do when his wife has no time for him.”
A bitter mound of regret heaved inside Lois. She forced it aside and concentrated on Lucy’s voice.
“He said he loves Roxy and while he was willing to remain married to me for the sake of the boys, he’s not willing to give up Roxy.”
Lois bit back her acid comment and went with a sanitised version. “You can’t stay with him like that.”
“I know,” Lucy said quietly. “But it’s going to be hard. I feel so much for the boys. I wanted them to have what we didn’t have. I wanted them to ...”
“I know,” Lois said. “I know.”
Lois searched for something to say as Lucy cried softly on the other end of the line. Listening to her sister’s pain, Lois was torn between offering to go to her and staying to be here when Clark returned home. She wished she had turned on the television to see if there were any reports of a Superman rescue. Then she would have been able to estimate how long she had before Clark would be home.
She couldn’t just hang up on Lucy. “Would you like me to come over?” Lois asked.
Before Lucy had answered, Lois heard a noise downstairs. She closed her eyes, wishing she could retract her offer.
Lucy didn’t answer and Lois guessed she was tempted by the offer. It must be miserable sitting alone in her house, imagining her husband with another woman and knowing that her marriage was over and her children would now be raised by separated, warring, hurt, hostile parents.
Clark’s footsteps sounded on the stairs. The door swung further open and he entered – wearing jeans and a casual blue sweater. He crossed the room to his side of the bed, stopping only briefly to kiss her cheek. Lois covered the phone. “Lucy,” she whispered.
He nodded. Lois watched as Clark put his wallet and cell and keys in the drawer next to his bed. As he leant over to close the drawer, she noticed – for the first time in a long time – how his jeans stretched so very enticingly across his butt.
“I can’t ask you to do that,” Lucy said. “I know you don’t get much time with Clark.”
Lois was torn by her choices. She so wanted to go to her sister – to hold her as she cried, to listen as she mourned, to assure her that Lois would be there for her as she faced life as the single mother of twin boys. But ... Lois desperately wanted to be with Clark.
She missed Clark. He had been right here – in their bedroom, in their home, at the Planet, yet she felt like she hadn’t been with him for a long, long time.
“I can come if you need me,” Lois said. As she spoke, she watched Clark for a reaction to her words. Would he be disappointed that his wife had, once again, chosen something other than being with him?
She saw nothing to indicate he had even heard. He sat on the bed and undid the laces of his tennis shoes.
Again Lucy hesitated. Lois decided that indecision was simply wasting the little time she had. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” she said firmly, already planning to spend fifteen minutes with Clark and then get him to fly her to Lucy’s.
“Lois, thank you,” Lucy said. Lois could hear a groundswell of gratitude in those three words.
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye. And thanks.”
Lois replaced the phone and crossed to where Clark was still sitting on the bed. “How’s Lucy?” he said.
“Not too good.” Lois put her hand on Clark’s shoulder. “I’m going over there – just for a short time. Do you mind?”
She thought she caught a slither of surprise cross Clark’s face, but he didn’t say anything other than, “Of course not. This has to be really hard for her.”
Lois brushed her fingers through the hair just above the wing of his glasses. “Would you fly me?” she asked. “Then I can be home earlier.”
“You have work you need to do?” Clark said. There was nothing in his voice – no disappointment, no condemnation. Just a simple request for information. He stood, and manoeuvred between her and the bed without even brushing against her.
“No, I thought - .”
Clark’s hand lifted and cut off her words.
“You’re needed?” Lois asked as she recognised the expression on his face. Her question oozed disappointment, but Clark didn’t seem to notice.
“Yeah, car wreck, people trapped.”
“I’ll drive to Lucy’s.”
Clark nodded. He spun into the suit. “See you tomorrow,” he said.
He flew out of the window.
Without even kissing her.
Lois collapsed onto the bed, shocked.
How could she not have noticed the gulf between them?
For Clark to leave – no matter how dire the emergency – to leave without kissing her ...
How long had this been happening?
How long had he found no pleasure in her touch? Her presence? How long ago had his hands stopped reaching for her at every opportunity?
Had it been gradual, over a period of months?
And she hadn’t even noticed?
Was he protecting himself from the pain of her constant absences?
Had he learnt to live without her attention? Her love?
Lois slowly descended the stairs.
Her husband had drifted away.
And she had been so caught up in a newspaper, she hadn’t even noticed.
||_||
Lucy met Lois at the door with a tight hug and a gush of tears. They sat together on Lucy’s sofa, drinking coffee.
“I can’t imagine how you must feel,” Lois said, realising it was true.
“Why would you?” Lucy said pragmatically. “You know Clark wouldn’t do that.”
“But you didn’t think Dan would do it, did you?” Lois asked with consternation.
Lucy hesitated. Then she shuffled further back into the sofa and her eyes dropped to her cup. “Things haven’t been too good for awhile,” she admitted.
“Lucy!” Lois exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You have your own life,” Lucy said. “You were busy - with the Planet and with the new home you bought and with Clark.”
Lois contemplated her sister. Is that how Lucy saw her life? The Planet first, the home second and Clark trailing a distant third?
More importantly, is that how Clark saw her priorities?
“I would always make time for you,” Lois said, knowing even as she said it that it hadn’t been the truth in the recent past.
“I thought having the boys would help things,” Lucy said. “I thought having a family would bring Dan and me closer together.”
“It’s been bad that long?” Lois asked in surprise.
Lucy shrugged. “Honestly?” she said. “It was never ... exhilarating. Even in the first months of our marriage, I sometimes wondered if we had both done it because we thought our families expected us to get married and Dan seemed as good as anyone – he was certainly better than any of the other men I’d been with.”
“Lucy!” Lois said. “I never knew. I thought you and Dan were happy together.”
“We were ... sort of,” Lucy said. She looked straight into Lois’s eyes. “But we never came anywhere near what you and Clark have.”
Have.
Or had?
“I ... I didn’t know,” Lois said, feeling dazed.
Lucy wiped a breakaway tear from her cheek. “I guess I wanted someone who looked at me the way Clark looks at you. None of my boyfriends were ever like that. Then Dan came along and he was no Clark Kent, but he had a certain charm and even though we both knew he once had a thing for you -.”
“I never had anything with Dan.”
“I know that, Lois,” Lucy said. “Dan admits that. He was interested, but he accepted he couldn’t compete with what you felt for Clark. And it was pretty obvious that to get to you, any other man was going to have to go through Clark Kent.” She drank from her coffee. “What I’m saying is that maybe both Dan and I had reasons for getting married and maybe neither of us had good reasons.”
Lois’s brain was spinning. “I didn’t realise,” she said quietly.
“Dan is a federal agent, Lois. Pretending to be something he’s not is a part of his job. I can play along too. And we had you as role models. Just copy Lois and Clark – then you’ll look like the perfect couple.”
Lois searched for resentment in her sister’s face but found none. “Is that what you really think?” Lois asked. “That what Clark and I have is an act?”
Lucy spluttered. “Are you kidding? If your marriage is an act, there’s no hope for any of us. You have the closest thing imaginable to a perfect marriage.”
We did, Lois corrected. “Is it over?” she asked gently. “Is it over with Dan?”
Lucy took a shaky breath. “Yes,” she said sadly. “Yes, it’s over. It’s not so much the affair and how long it has been going on, but Dan’s complete lack of remorse. He says a man has needs and I know that for most of the pregnancy, I was either sick or so big and uncomfortable that ... well, being a wife to him in the bedroom just wasn’t a priority. Then my blood pressure skyrocketed and I was in the hospital for weeks and the boys came early and even when I left the hospital with Ethan, Tyler had to stay and I was stretched between being a mother with a newborn at home and being a mother with a sick baby in the hospital. Then when Tyler finally came home, the days were just never long enough.”
For the first time, Lois could see the parallels between her life and Lucy’s – how they had both become caught up in new responsibilities. “That doesn’t excuse what he did,” Lois said.
“No, it doesn’t,” Lucy said. She wiped her wet cheeks with a sodden tissue.
Then they were silent, both thinking.
“Can I ask you something?” Lucy said suddenly.
Lois discerned significance in her sister’s tone. “OK,” she said warily.
“Do you want children?”
Lois paused. “If children came, we would be thrilled.”
“But?”
“But at this point, it doesn’t seem as if it is going to happen.”
“So you’ve tried?”
“Yes.”
Lucy placed her hand on Lois’s arm. “I’m sorry, Lois.”
“Sorry for what?”
“Sorry for thinking you didn’t want children. Sorry for thinking your job was so important to you, you didn’t have the time for them.”
“One of the reasons I am so engrossed in my job is because I don’t have children.”
“But if you became pregnant, you would be happy?”
“I would be ecstatic.” Lois felt the longing crawl up her throat. “And Clark would be too.”
Lucy smiled a teary smile. “I guess we are both going to have to learn to be happy with what we have and try not to obsess about what we don’t have.”
Lois sighed. “I think you’re right.” She stood. “I should be getting back to Clark.”
Lucy stood too. “Thanks for coming, Lois. I needed some company and there’s no one I would have preferred to see tonight.”
Lois wasn’t completely sure that was the truth, but she appreciated Lucy saying it. “Do you mind if I have a quick peek at my nephews?” she asked.
“Of course not,” Lucy said. They tiptoed up the stairs and into the boys’ room.
Lois peered at the sweetly sleeping faces, trying not to show her shock at how much they had grown since she last saw them. They didn’t look like babies any more. “They grow so fast, don’t they?” she whispered.
Lucy nodded. “It seems only a few weeks ago that I was in the hospital with them. They were so tiny – and now they’re big, healthy boys.”
“You have so much,” Lois said. “Try to concentrate on that.”
Lucy straightened the soft blanket over Tyler. “I know,” she said.
At the bottom of the stairs, Lois and Lucy embraced for a long moment. “When you need help,” Lois said. “Or just someone to talk to, call me.”
“I will,” Lucy promised, but Lois wondered if she really would. “Thank you so much for coming. I know you don’t get enough time with Clark.”
Lois drove home, deep in thought. The darkness pushed into the car and accentuated her tiredness. Together, they proved a fertile breeding ground for fear.
What if Clark didn’t love her any more?
She couldn’t lose Clark.
She could lose everything else - *everything* else in her life and painful though that would be, she would survive if she had Clark.
But if she lost him ...
If she’d *already* lost him ...
Lois straightened her shoulders and turned on the radio. She hummed tunelessly to the not-immediately-familiar song, but, a few bars in, it caught in her throat.
Clark loved her.
He did.
He would always love her. She had allowed herself to be caught up in her very demanding job, but it would take more than that to extinguish Clark’s love for her.
When she’d told him on that park bench that she only loved him as a friend ... his love had survived that.
When she’d gone perilously close to marrying Lex Luthor ... his love had survived that.
When she’d gotten so hurt and angry after his proposal had morphed into an earth-shattering revelation ... his love had survived that.
When she’d been swapped for a clone and he’d married a sham bride ... his love had survived that.
When she’d lost her memory and told him she was in love with a kooky psychiatrist ... his love had survived that.
When Zara and Ching had come and urged him to accompany them to New Krypton ... his love for Lois Lane had only grown stronger.
The one absolute in her life – a life that often spiralled way beyond weird – was Clark’s love for her.
And her love for him.
He knew that, didn’t he?
Despite her distraction and neglect for over a year – he had to know she still loved him.
Didn’t he?
He knew she would always love him.
Didn’t he?
Or had the hours alone allowed his doubts to take root and grow?
Had her neglect seemed like a dying love?
“Aww, Clark,” Lois muttered. “I still love you. Please know that.”
