I'm back with new energy and so here you go with a new part...
From Part 10
"We have prepared a list of topics for you. We ask you to talk exclusively about them," she said finally. From the side I could see how Clark raised a quizzical eyebrow. I was obviously not the only one who had noticed. "The topics will be handed out at the table and should all be addressed. You don’t have to stick to the order. But in your own interest, it would be good if you go through all of them, even if you may feel uncomfortable about some,” she added and made a portentous pause while she looked at us seriously. "The aim of this exercise is to understand that openness and honesty are important elements of a relationship." She nodded at us and turned to leave. "We’re glad to welcome you as guests at our institution," she declared before she opened the door and left us alone. Unusually unanimous, we stared at the closed door.
* * *
Only in my dreams
Part 11
I could not tell how exactly I had managed to walk towards the restaurant, arm in arm with Clark. At some point, I just ended up sitting at a table, wearing an elegant dress. That was nonsense, of course. After all, I could not just snap my fingers to find myself in the perfect date. Clark had changed his casual white t-shirt and thight jeans for a dark suit. He looked absolutely stunning. Any attempt to ignore this fact was futile. My partner had obviously decided to play along.
The restaurant was bathed in dim light and only the glow of the flickering candle on our table lit Clark's face. He looked relaxed and he actually smiled, which made my heart beat involuntarily faster. This ebbing between emotions was unnerving me and I wondered if Clark might be right about putting a stop to this partnership. I could not stand this roller-coaster ride anymore - it was about time to give up hoping that he would fall in love with me. Did Clark know how I felt for him? If he did, why would he torture me with this incredibly stunning smile?
"So, where do we start?" Clark asked, scanning the list in front of him like a menu. We had already ordered, so he could only be talking about our first topic.
I, too, looked at my list. There were some completely innocuous topics, but also one that made me break out into cold sweat. Did we have the same list? His brows did not furrow.
”Who was your first kiss?" I asked out of a sudden impulse.
"Hey, that question isn’t on my list," Clark protested good-naturedly. He looked at me, defiantly, like he had done when he had lectured me about ‘chumpy’ not being a word.
"It’s on mine," I retorted, tapping on the appropriate line and felt my stomach clench. We had different lists - this evening was going to be a disaster.
"Oh, is that so?" Clark said, his lips curving into a warm smile. "Her name was Lana Lang. She lived on the neighboring farm in Smallville. In tenth grade, she had every intention of me becoming her boy friend,” he laughed at the memory, but then quickly turned serious. I could see a sad twitch to his mouth. He seemed distressed. Whatever caused it, remained visible for only a moment before it disappeared again.
"Did you like her?" I asked, curious to find out what that sad expression meant.
"Well, honestly, I liked her better before she had chosen me as her future boyfriend. I liked her ... yes ... we even dated a few times. But we never really fit together. Lana always wanted to be popular with everyone, she wanted everything, including being the quarterback’s girlfriend ..." Clark added lightly. He did not seem to be uneasy with the topic. He raised his wine glass to his lips and took a sip before he set it back onto the table.
"And you weren’t the quarterback?" I asked, glad that we had found a topic that held no bricks to drop. Had I misread the expression in Clark’s face?
"No," he replied, amused. "I did my best not to qualify for that position," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"You turned such a position in the football team down to get rid of Lana?" I snorted, surprised. I was glad that I had not taken a sip of my wine as well. Otherwise, the table cloth would now be covered with red speckles.
"That was one among many reasons," Clark said lightly. "I think it's my turn now, right?" His eyes went over his list, then he looked at me thoughtfully. His fingers toyed with the stem of his wine glass, he pushed it gently back and forth, apparently without actually noticing what he did. "Who’s your best friend?" he asked.
"You," I replied without hesitation.
"Me?" His eyes widened in amazement. "Really? After all ..." He fell silent and he really did not need to say anything else. I knew what he was thinking. Honestly, I was probably just as surprised as he was.
"Yes. I mean I know you're not a woman and a best friend of a woman usually is a woman, too. But that doesn’t really matter, does it?" I started to babble, bursting into a nervous giggle. "But yes, when I think about it - nobody knows me better than you do, Clark. Even Lucy doesn’t. I like you and I trust you, even if lately things are not going so well between us. All in all, I still hope... "
My heart was beating like a steam hammer, and suddenly all composure was gone. I stopped when I realized that I had just been about to confess my love for Clark. The words already sat on the tip of my tongue. Just a little nudge and they would fall down right in front of his feet and would destroy all that might be left of our friendship.
"Lois," Clark said softly, placing his hand on mine. He let it rest there, unaware that his touch sent jolts of electricity right through my body. A pleasant tingling sensation spread from his hand. It would have been sensible to withdraw. But there was no way I could have done that. "I would love to say the same about you," he said sadly, and it was just the look in his eyes that kept his words from sounding offensive. "But the way I have been behaving lately, I don’t deserve a friend like you," he added, ultimately taking the edge off his words.
"Clark, why don’t we try to get back to the way things were between us? Please tell me what it is that is standing between us so that we can work on it." I begged him but he just shook his head.
"I can’t, Lois. Basically there is nothing that would prevent us from being friends. Nothing except my being so achingly stupid," he smiled wryly and still looked so sad that it literally tore my heart.
I felt the sudden impulse to embrace him and kiss his pain away. But he was certainly going to take that badly. Besides, this whole situation was harder on me than on my partner with the puppy dog eyes. For a moment I fought a quiet battle, trying to convince myself that I was brave enough to take the first step. But then I chickened out, returning to our task of this evening.
"If you were an animal, what would you like to be?" I changed the subject rather abruptly and wondered why I had chosen this of all questions. Probably because there was no way I could screw this one up.
Clark looked at me thoughtfully. There was not the slightest hint in his expression to give away how he felt about this change of topic. All I could see was his puzzlement. But the sad expression finally disappeared and was replaced by a smile that made my heart race again. Inadvertently, I had only succeeded in making things worse. If Clark kept smiling like that, I was definitely going to lose it.
"This is a difficult question," he squirmed and spent a while readjusting his glasses. Then he cleared his throat. "I think I would like to be a dog."
"A dog?" I asked, stunned and reached for my wine glass to keep me from staring at Clark. "You'd like to be a dog?" I repeated and could not bring myself to take a sip of my wine. My eyes were glued to him.
"What's wrong with that?" Clark replied innocently, while I tried to imagine my partner as a dog - with a leash and a wagging tail. It just did not fit.
"Dogs aren’t free, they always do what their owner wants..." I pointed out, but Clark quickly interrupted me with a hearty laugh.
"I can see you'd rather be a cat – not tied to anyone. It’s always in control of its family, but not quite a part of it," Clark said, and somehow managed to make these character traits sound negative. "I'd gladly give up my freedom to be part of something..." he went on softly and wistfully. His gaze fixed on the tablecloth, now Clark took the wine glass in hand, drank and hastily put it down again. "Would you excuse me for a moment, Lois?" He asked, then, stood up and hurried off toward the restrooms.
Confused, I stared after him. Why did I doubt that a full bladder had driven him off? Once again he had disappeared in the middle of a serious conversation and I would gladly have known where he actually went. He could not seek refuge in the shower every time he went missing! I nervously glanced at the clock to see that not half as much time had passed, as I had assumed. Our food had not arrived yet and we had two long lists of topics ahead of us. So far it had not been that bad. But looking at that list again made my stomach clench painfully.
<Did you cheat on me?> was the first item of many.
How were we supposed to talk about this one? Technically, Clark had not been cheating on me. But since we were “the Whites” for the time being, Mayson was his mistress. Even the simple confirmation was probably more than I could bear tonight. But this could hardly be called a conversation. Besides, there were other questions I had to ask if Clark said yes. Involuntarily I took a sip of wine in order to suppress my soaring panic.
"Ms. Lane," someone next to me said softly. I nearly choked on my wine as I once again looked into the face of the Englishman.
"What do you want, Mr. Wells?" I snapped, but not so loud that the whole restaurant was bound to overhear. "Back in the hall, I already told you that you’ll have to wait until we return to the office."
"In the Hall?" he asked confused, staring at me blankly. "Then I'm obviously not quite where I wanted to go. Oh my goodness, these trips keep confusing me. What do I do now?" He murmured. "Excuse me Ms. Lane. I didn’t want to bother you," he quickly apologized and bowed. Then he hurried out of the restaurant, leaving me baffled. It was bad enough that one man kept running out on me, why did there have to be two of them?
to be continued...
