From the end of Chapter Two:
“Sir, I’m sorry, but Ms Lane didn’t put anyone down on the authorized list but herself.”
“And that means?” Clark prompted.
“Only your girlfriend gets a copy of the medical record. And she’s the only person who can pick up Moose.” Despite the fact that she was behind a glass window, Shanelle seemed a little nervous. Did she regularly face irate clients? The video cameras that panned the waiting room and the reception desk seemed to argue for that point.
“But I paid the bill!”
“Yes, sir, thank you. But Ms Lane is down on our records as the owner of the pet, and only she can pick him up.” Shanelle was unwavering.
Clark took a deep breath. This day was not going well at all.
“We’re open twenty-four hours,” Shanelle said. “She can come anytime.”
“All right,” Clark said, giving up. “Thank you.” He blamed his upbringing. His parents had ruthlessly forced him to be polite when he felt like screaming.
“You’re welcome.” Shanelle closed the glass window between them with finality.
*******************
The rest of the day went on like that. Clark got called away for a Superman job, and came back to the area at 8:15 a.m., just in time see Lois driving home from the veterinary emergency center in her Jeep, with Moose in the back seat. She looked tired and haggard.
He had to go to work then. He was stuck with the Saturday duty this weekend. And then, because he’d been following Lois, he came in late, and got a “just below an official write-up” reprimand from the officious junior editor. If Perry had been there, nothing would have been said – Perry knew that Clark and Lois, although they kept irregular hours, produced the goods. Clark shrugged off the reprimand too visibly and managed to further escalate the junior editor’s annoyance.
The editor pointedly asked him if he had his story ready. Clark was forced to admit that no, he didn’t, he still had some figures to double-check. So, instead of leaving the office, Clark had to spend a seeming eternity acquiring and collating various statistics from the Metropolis City Budget. And because his editor kept on popping out to check on him, Clark was unable to commandeer a conference room and do the tedious task at super-speed.
It hardly mattered. Clark could barely concentrate. All he could do was think of Lois, and how he’d messed up so badly.
Sirens called him. He pretended he was going to the men’s room, but in actuality he sped up the stairs and out the roof exit. The apartment fire didn’t take a long time to extinguish, but two people were severely burned. Clark hated that. The people suffered so badly, and there was so little he could do for burns. He cooled the victims’ burns with his freezing breath, but even as he did it, he wondered if that would make a difference. He did fly the ambulance to Metropolis General – it was much faster than having the ambulance inch its way through Metropolis traffic.
He set the ambulance down near the Emergency Department entrance as gently as possible. The driver waved at him with a “Thanks, Superman!” The two paramedics echoed it briefly, their attention quickly turning to the practicalities of getting their patients out of the ambulance and into the ER. The usual crowd of gawkers gathered at the windows. The wide-eyed rubberneckers weren’t the ER nurses and medical personnel, who continued doing their jobs. They all knew Superman by now, and he knew all of them.
He was about to lift off and fly back to work when he heard it. Lois’s heartbeat. Alarm coursed through him. Why was Lois at the hospital?
Clark forced himself to shove down his fear and listen again. Was Lois sick? Her heartbeat wasn’t fast or agitated. He lifted off and hovered above the hospital. He put his deep vision to work, sifting through the top twelve stories before he located Lois on the fifth floor, at the Cardiac Unit. She had just walked up to a middle-aged woman sitting in a waiting room.
Clark focused his hearing.
“Eleanor,” Lois said, “how are you doing?”
Eleanor! This was Lois’s neighbor. Clark felt ashamed. He hadn’t given a thought to Lois’s neighbors. He’d just been exasperated at their dog. Moose’s owner had had a heart attack, and Clark hadn’t cared. He knew he shouldn’t be eavesdropping on Lois, too, but he just couldn’t help himself.
“Oh, Lois,” Eleanor said. “I’m glad to see you.” She stood up and hugged Lois. Clark angled slightly to see – both women looked tired.
“How are you doing?” Lois asked. “How is Phil?” She sat down next to Eleanor.
“He’s been here all night,” Eleanor replied. “They were going to do something - an angioplasty, I think they said - but then they decided that they had to do a bypass. Phil’s in surgery right now.”
Clark saw the expression on Lois’s face. He knew her well. She’d obviously come to ‘fess up to Eleanor about the Moose chocolate-eating incident, and then just as obviously she’d decided that Eleanor didn’t need to hear about that right now. Her neighbor had enough on her mind.
“I can’t understand why Phil should have a heart attack,” Eleanor said. “He walks five miles every day with Moose.”
“Five miles?” Lois said, keeping the conversation going.
“Sometimes he does six. Oh, Lois, I don’t know what I’ll do if – “ Eleanor trailed off, obviously thinking the worst. “We’ve been married for forty-two years.”
“Forty-two years!”
“Forty-three on July twentieth,” Eleanor said. “Phil’s always taken care of himself…and now this.”
“I’m sure he’ll be all right,” Lois said reassuringly. “If he walks five miles a day, well, um, you know.”
“I hope so.” The older woman fell silent for a moment. “Lois, you’ve been so good to us.”
“Uh, thanks.” Lois shifted awkwardly in her chair.
“Could I impose upon you to take care of Moose for one more day? I called the kids but they can’t get in till tomorrow – you know, Tom lives the closest and he’s in Chicago.” Eleanor caught Lois’s tiny movement. “Oh, Moose hasn’t given you any trouble, has he? I know he can be rambunctious.”
“Oh, no. No. I mean, yes. I mean, no, he hasn’t given me any trouble, and yes, I’d be happy to watch him,” Lois babbled. “Don’t worry about Moose. I’ll keep him as long as you need me to.” She reached over and took Eleanor’s hand. “Right now, you just worry about Phil.”
From his vantage point above, Clark nodded. Of course Lois would come through in the clutch. She pretended she was a hardened and calloused newswoman, but she always did stuff like this when it came right down to it. Despite her annoyance at Moose, she would help Eleanor by taking care of the chocolate-eating canine.
Eleanor squeezed Lois’s hand. “Thank you, Lois. That means a lot to me. Phil will be happy to know that Moose is with you. He loves that dog.”
Lois gave a wry smile.
“Oh, Lois, I don’t know what I’ll do if – “ Eleanor couldn’t complete the thought. She reached inside her bag for some tissues and blew her nose. “We got married when we were both twenty-two and we’ve been together ever since.”
“How did you stay married for so long?” Lois asked, apparently fascinated.
“Well, I must say we’ve had our arguments and our fights, and there are some days when I wondered why I ever married him,” Eleanor admitted. She stared off into space. “But in the end, he loves me and I love him. He’s my best friend.”
“Yeah,” Lois said hollowly.
Eavesdropping from above, Clark felt just as hollow. Had he destroyed his friendship with Lois? His best friend? The only friend who knew all of him?
Lois stared off into space for a minute too. Then she took her hand from Eleanor’s and stood up. “Eleanor, I’m sure Phil will be fine.”
“Yes, he will,” Eleanor said, in the tone of one trying to convince herself. She stood too, and hugged Lois. “Thank you, Lois. Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome. Call me if you need anything, OK?” Lois said, extracting herself from the hug and heading down the hallway as she spoke.
Eleanor nodded.
Lois strode down the hospital corridor. Clark saw her punch the button for the elevator, and stand there drumming her fingers while she waited. She rode down to the exit level and came out the door. Clark followed her as she walked through the parking structure.
Decision time. Meet her at her Jeep? Or not?
Another siren in the distance made the decision for him. Reluctantly, Clark sped away.
**********************
The day dragged on. Clark continued to labor over boring statistics. His editor loaded him with nitpicky jobs. He was called away twice to be Superman. Both times he told himself he ought not to do it, but he couldn’t stop himself from checking on Lois.
The first time he went out, he saw Lois jogging through Centennial Park. She held Moose’s leash in her hand, and the dog loped alongside her. Clark was startled when she looked up. Did she sense him? He always knew when she was near – did the same hold true for her? He gave up and flew back to the Planet.
His second rescue came hours later, in the afternoon. After Clark dealt with another fire (what was it with Metropolis and fires today?) he found himself drawn inexorably to Lois’s apartment. His conscience twinged as he focused the deep vision through the masonry. He shouldn’t be following her around like this and he knew it. But for once in his life, Clark Kent didn’t do the right thing.
He saw the living room first. Moose lay slumbering on Lois’s white couch, his head on one of her throw pillows. The dog actually snored.
Clark shook his head and moved his vision over to Lois’s bedroom. Apparently she’d been too tired to change out of her running suit, because she lay asleep on top of the covers, still dressed in her jogging clothes. She stirred restlessly.
Clark felt ashamed. It was he who’d ruined her rest. Then he noticed something as she tossed in her sleep.
The teddy bear – the bear he’d won for her at the Smallville Corn Festival – she clutched it close to her body. She curled around it and murmured, “Clark.”
He closed his eyes quickly, realizing too late that he had no right to see her like this. And yet, inside him, a tendril of hope uncurled. Perhaps he had a chance.
*******************
Clark stood in the apartment hallway outside Lois’s door. Nervously, he checked himself over one last time. A quick hand run over his cheeks told him that his very recent shave still held good. His tie was unaccustomedly sober, his suit clean, his shirt ironed and starched. In his hand he held two yellow roses.
He rehearsed his speech. Lois, these are for you. Yellow roses, for the two of us. For friendship. Because… Because what? He wanted to be her friend? He wanted more? He was sorry for upending her world?
Clark dragged his mind off that unfruitful topic. His hand lifted. His mouth was dry. It took everything he had to knock on her door.
A barking frenzy erupted. Lois, it seemed, had not yet been able to turn Moose over to Eleanor’s son.
The door opened slightly. Lois stared out at him and said nothing. She’d changed out of the running suit into a blouse and jeans, Clark saw, and she’d put up her hair in a simple ponytail. Behind her, Moose barked a few more times, then jumped up and down excitedly, whining.
“Lois?” Clark said hesitantly. He thrust the hand holding the yellow roses at her.
“I’m still not talking to you,” she said acidly.
“Oh.” This wasn’t promising at all. “Um, I’m sorry, um, for uh, upsetting you. And I, uh, hoped we could talk.” Well, wasn’t that stupid. She had just said that she wasn’t talking to him.
Lois only looked at him. His hand holding the roses dropped slowly to his side.
Clark’s mind whirled. At least she hadn’t closed the door in his face. There was still a chance. He grasped at a straw.
“Actually, I came to invite Moose over for dinner,” he said coolly.
That surprised Lois. “Moose?”
“Well, the vet said that he needed a bland diet, so I cooked up some chicken and rice,” Clark said. “Of course, since you would have to drive him over to my apartment, you’re invited too.”
Was Lois trying to hold back a tiny smile? Was there a hint of amusement in her eyes? Clark tried hard to keep his own poker face. Then her face hardened, and he saw a small part of the sense of betrayal that must have washed through her. She was going to say no, he knew it.
The dog in question had been pacing and whining all through their truncated conversation. Suddenly, Moose jumped up again, trying to get to Clark at the half-open door. His paws landed on Lois’s back, and eighty-five pounds of excited Labrador Retriever knocked her down.
Clark caught her. It wasn’t hard. He was attuned to her, always aware of her and the space she occupied. He dropped the roses and arrested her stumble before she hit the floor, catching her with one arm. His other arm automatically wrapped around her, holding her safely. Moose rampaged down the hallway once again, but this time all the other apartment doors were locked.
Their bodies touched. Clark felt her frantic heartbeat, and then the slight lessening of her stiff muscles as she relaxed a tiny amount. Lois’s face almost touched his, and if he leaned forward he could kiss her. Her lips, full and tender, fascinated him. She breathed heavily. He leaned forward, just a bit… then he met her eyes. The hurt in them was too great to be soothed by a simple kiss.
He gently set her back on her feet, mourning the loss of contact. “Please,” Clark said. Please, Lois. Please come over. Please let me talk to you. Please talk to me. Please.
They stared into each other’s eyes. Lois was the first to look away.
“OK,” she said ungraciously. “But only because Moose needs dinner.” She turned around and called Moose to her. He’d given up testing apartment doors and had moved on to sniffing Clark’s trousers. “Your apartment. Half an hour.” Her voice hardened. “And don’t follow me.”
“I won’t.” Clark held up his hands in surrender. The two yellow roses lay on the floor by him. Their petals fluttered in the breeze of Moose’s passing. The movement caught Clark’s eye, and he instinctively bent to pick up the flowers. By the time he looked back at Lois, she had already retreated into her apartment with Moose and locked the door.
“I won’t follow you,” Clark said quietly. She had sensed him earlier. Or maybe she just knew him well. Whatever the reason, he would honor her request.
He took the roses home with him. He still had hope.
