"He?"
"Yeah. This guy at Luthorcorp you had some kind of an in with."
"Guy." She shook her head. "Somehow that... doesn't seem right. Not that I know what seems right." In her mind, she kept seeing Miss Tessmacher, but maybe that's because she was the only person Lois had encountered at Luthorcorp. That and one grumpy guard.
"Well, I don't know. You never told me his name."
"But I did say it was a him?"
"I don't remember," Linda groaned. "Like I said, I only have what I know. Are you going to let me finish?"
"Well, I just want to be clear on..."
"No. No more questions. Just stop... stop trying to figure it all out at once. I will tell you everything I know. Just... listen. It'll be easier for both of us. Okay?"
So she did.
She just listened.
Linda was right. It was easier to hear, in a way, uninterrupted by questions, uninterrupted by the rambling of her mind, trying to figure out the whys. She just took it in, rather thinking of it like a good yarn. A tale of espionage and intrigue, action and heroes. After Camp Tremaine, it made sense that this kind of thing wasn't new to her, yet it still didn't feel like it was... hers. This wasn't her story. This was the story of another girl who got involved, not because of any personal investment, but to protect the ones she loved.
This was Linda's story.
But she listened as Linda went on, almost in a monotone, stopping sometimes to wipe at her eyes, which seemed to be happening more frequently at this part of the tale.
"I wish I'd known she'd snuck on board," Linda said. "I don't know what I would have done. It's not like we could turn the chopper around. There was no time. I guess... it doesn't do any good, thinking of what could have happened. There's no going back. I just... I wish she'd listened to us. I wish she'd stayed behind." Linda stared down at their joined hands. "I don't blame you, you know, so don't go jumping to that conclusion." Lois blinked, suddenly pulled out of the story, it hitting her anew that she had been there. That she was a player in these events. "But I avoided you for days. I... it really wasn't that I blamed you. I just... I found it hard to look at you because seeing you reminded me that you were... that we were all that was left. I mean, I did blame you, for about five seconds. I thought you should have known she'd pull someting, but... It's not like you can stop someone from beaning you over the head when your back is turned. I mean, how were we to know? I never thought she would, either. I was so sure she'd stay with Daddy. She was always his little champion, no matter what." She smiled sadly. "I could never quite figure out if he was the best or worst father there was. It depended on the moment, but... Well, these days, I'd just rather remember what was good. But I think I still envy you."
"Me? Why?"
"You and I were in the same situation. No mom around. Just our dads. Mine seemed to deal with it by avoiding us, while yours was always... there. I remember, when your mom left, I came to stay with you for a few weeks. It was before you moved to Smallville and I thought I could... show you the ropes or something. I was just a kid, but I had this idea that I could show you how awesome it was without parents breathing down your neck because I thought it was. I wanted to show you all the trouble we could get into in the city. But we never got to get into any. Your dad was always there, offering food or to take us somewhere and I... I think that was about when I realized my life wasn't so awesome."
"I wish..." She squeezed her eyes shut. "God, I wish I remembered him."
"Hey, we're just starting. One of these days, we'll have to break out all your old stuff. Martha might want her fruit cellar back some day."
"Martha has..."
"Oh, yeah. Boxes and boxes. I mean, it's a Chloe Sullivan smorgasbord down there."
"But I thought Ollie destroyed most..."
"Oh, he got rid of a lot of records, but I had Martha hold on to the actual important stuff because... Well, I think we've all been hoping for this day." Linda squinted at Lois. "Maybe it's not how we wanted it. I'd rather we found Grady and had him fix it. I'd rather this had never happened at... No use even saying it. We're here now. This is just... what we have to work with." She nodded to herself.
"I still can't figure out why I..." Lois stared at her cousin. "You saw the same things I did and you seem to... handle it."
"Me? I hardly handle anything." Linda picked at a loose thread on the quilt. "I'm a nuerotic mess, anybody'll tell you."
"You see a therapist, Linda. You didn't..."
"And I didn't see the same things you did. There are more things that... aren't mine to tell."
"People keep saying that."
"Because it's true. I... Look, I just... I am not going to indulge in petty... blame games. But I will say this. There are other people that have... other information and... I don't know if I've gone soft with pregnancy or what, but I think those people should... maybe have a chance to tell their side before I let out what I have in me." Her face hardened. "And I will also say this. If those people don't man up and say what they need to, then I will feel free to trash those people as much as I want."
"Those people," Lois repeated.
"Those people might be... Clark-shaped people."
Lois nodded, wondering that everything seemed to lead so inexorably back to Clark Kent.
Linda dropped the quilt and stood. "And that is all you're getting out of me."
Lois shook herself. "Yes," she said softly. "I've probably... kept you long enough. Ollie might be..."
Linda sat back down. "You know, I just can't stand the idea that you think what you did was so cowardly. I really think we should delve into..."
"Linda, I'm fine. You have to..."
"Lois, just listen. I... I just want to make it clear that, even if you were persuaded into... And, believe me, if you weren't outright forced, there had to have been some heavy persuasion. Anyway, it doesn't make you the weakling out of us."
"Except for how it totally does." Lois laughed humorlessly, mostly at Linda's near-transparent attempt to keep away from Ollie.
"We have different strengths." Linda sighed. "My therapist calls me resilient. It's not necessarily a good thing.. or a bad thing. When we were little, during that time with your mother leaving, you just... you couldn't get out of your head. You had to know why. I just kept trying to get you to play with me because I... I never see a point to dwelling. I've never been someone that cared why. I guess I don't think of the whys when the bad stuff goes down. I just bounce up and move on, but you.. You're a dweller. You're more analytical. Guess that's what makes you a good reporter. Just like my resilience helps me roll with the political punches and all. But our strengths are... our weaknesses sometimes. Because I run around like a chicken without a head, avoiding everything. And you... you tend to go off into your own world and forget that you are surrounded by people that... that you need." Linda squeezed her hand. "You can need someone. You can even... admit you do."
Lois gave her a watery smile. "And you can stop running around like a chicken without a head."
Linda rolled her eyes. "Touche." She smiled. "Anyway, if one good thing came out of all of this, it was that it got you out of your head and... into your life. The down side would be that that head was emptied of some crucial information and that life was... missing some pretty important people. See, in therapy, I've become more in touch with my analytical side, so I think it's really helped me..."
"Linda?"
"Hmm?"
"I think I've had enough for now."
"Are you sure? Because..."
"Yes." No. She could actually hear more of the story. She could spend an hour asking questions and for clarifications, but maybe it was best to get out of her own head and help Linda overcome her weakness. "I'm getting in touch with my internal buzzer and I think it's time to let things sink in and it might be time you... dealt with your stuff."
Linda nodded. "Fair enough. I really think I should give Doctor Melcher a call first and figure out what might be the best way to tell. Maybe take some time to figure out why I'm so hesitant to..."
Lois got up and pulled her up as well. "Come on, Miss Resilient, prove your strength."
"Fine. You have fun stewing, Miss Analytical. I'll go... have dinner with my husband," she groaned with all the anticipation of someone about to scrub a toilet.
Lois stared after her, rather wishing she'd come back. She still wasn't quite ready to be with just... herself. She thought of the girl ag... Of herself. That was her. She was her. She was... possibly scizophrenic.
You weren't looking for a person... You don't even care who we are.
But she did care. She cared so much, that stupid wristband went ballistic whenever she felt how much she was to blame for the mess she'd made of her mind.
You looked for facts... You put together a story... You want a sequence of events
Yes. She could get through a sequence of events. She could take it in, as if it all happened to someone else. Where it got tricky was where she had to acknowledge that she was there. It seemed the one thing she couldn't handle was her.
We're more than just things we did.
Her friends seemed to let her off the hook so easily. It wasn't so easy for her. But she knew she couldn't go on, constantly feeling like a fool.
She stood and moved to her doorway and the sound of canned laughter from her living room. "You're still here?"
"Huh?" Bart poked his head up from her couch. "Oh, hey. Good Times marathon." He moved over and patted the other cushion. "Care to worship at the alter of Jimmy J.J. Walker?"
"Thanks, but... I think I should just have some time with myself."
Bart nodded. "Yeah. You had a big day." He leaned back and settled his eyes on the screen as Lois stared at him. He finally turned to her. "Oh... just yourself. Got it."
"It's nothing personal. I just..."
"No. It's cool." He stood. "I can watch this at The Tower. I mean, it's on commercial, so I have a few minutes to..." He tilted his head. "You sure you're okay alone?"
"I'm f..." She shook her head. "No. But I will be." She nodded at the TV. "Commercials are ending."
"Oh, thanks." Bart disappeared, leaving her door swinging in his wake.
She closed it before moving back to the TV, clicking it off and settling on the couch. She needed to take the pieces she had and... somehow fit herself in, whoever she was. There was the girl. There was who she was now. Somewhere in between was...
The phone on her end table rang and she jumped, startled into answering it before she remembered that the no-phone policy that had been so firmly in place since this started. Her mouth worked soundlessly as she tried to decide whether to speak or hang up. What if it was Luthor? What could she say to him now that she knew so many things about him even he didn't...
"Um... Miss Lane? Are you there?"
She sighed in relief. "I said you could call me Lois, Murray."
"Well, I was wondering if you had a moment. Linda stopped by and..."
"Please tell me Ollie was there," Lois said, rubbing at her eyes.
"Well, yes he was. But they left right away. Something about dinner and... Well, that's not what I called about. She told me that you've decided to work without the device. That is, of course, your decision, but I really did want to see if you had any adverse affects from..."
She sat down, nearly groaning. Just when she was finally set on sorting herself out, it seemed everyone wanted a piece of her.
**************************
Clark resisted his first impulse and went straight to The Tower.
He'd been resisting his impulses all day, not calling, not swinging by. It wasn't easy. At one point, he had to "get himself a cup of coffee," which was, at the time, code for "catch a teenaged shoplifter just outside a liquor store." Not exactly as life-threatening as it seemed when he heard the clerk scream. Then again, maybe it was, with the size of the whiskey bottle the kid had. He wasn't sure a man twice his size could handle that much.
At any rate, that had been dealt with quickly, with plenty of time to venture by a certain apartment building and just see... In the end, he'd gone back to work.
He just wasn't sure what to do with himself, what was allowed. It wasn't every day a guy's partner found out that there was a whole life before they met and that they were once... he couldn't even put a label on it. It was what it was. And what it was was confusing. He wasn't sure how he fit. He wasn't sure if she wanted him to fit at all. He just... wasn't sure of anything.
But, having no other set plans, he could be free to see her now... should she actually want to see him. But he found himself hesitant now. After wanting nothing more than to see her all day, he was now completely at a loss for what he'd say if he did.
So... sorry I barged into your life again.
Sorry I neglected to tell you... anything.
I'm sorry for everything.
He didn't even know how much she knew, but one thing he seemed to know was that he should definitely start with an apology. Whatever she knew, he was positive that she might not be too eager to see the guy who'd been working with her since the summer and never brought up that entire life before. So he found himself in the elevtor, pressing PH, even afraid to see them. Afraid they'd have some sort of bad news. But if it was of the urgent, life-threatening variety, he was sure he'd have been called in that case. That was one area -- possibly the only area -- where he could really be counted on.
As the elevator made its way up, he tensed as he heard yelling.
"Yeah! Take that, Speedy!"
"This is so not fair! You probably talked to the machine or something and made it..."
"I won fair and square, even after your bragging about your fingers of fire or some bullsh..."
"Dude, my guy gave yours a kick square to the head. Yours should have been dead, but you pulled some kind of robo-voodoo and..."
"Oh, just give it up and bow down to me, *****."
Clark felt some of the tension leave him as the doors opened. Surely the world wasn't ending if people were still yelling over video games. He moved in, seeing Bart and Victor on the couch, eyes focused on the screen and hands on their controllers. A quick scan of the wall found Murray in the control room and Diana and AC in the spare bedroom... He pulled back, horrified, afraid to look in the master bedroom and find Linda and Oliver similarly occupied. Of course, he wasn't quite sure Oliver had arrived yet and...
"Is Oliver here yet?" he finally asked, leaning on the railing and keeping his eyes down.
"Hello to you, too," he heard Bart say.
He looked at Bart, figuring that was safe. "Hello. Where are..."
"They went to get dinner," Victor supplied, nearly jumping forward with his controller. "Yeah! Take it!"
"Didn't think to invite me, but... whatever." Bart leaned heavily to the side. "Damn it, Vic! How are you doing that? You have to be..."
"Who's with Lois?"
"Yes!" Victor stood and threw up his controller, catching it easily. "At some point, you're going to have to give up and bow down."
"Never," Bart growled, gripping his own. "I demand a rematch."
"Who's with Lois?" Clark repeated, and loudly. Possibly too loudly, as they both turned to him, dropping their controllers.
"No one," Bart said, looking at him like he was a little nuts.
"No one?"
"She wanted to be alone. She said she needed some 'time with herself,'" Bart said, air-quoting.
"Oh. Good," he said dully.
Bart snickered. "Tell me how you really feel."
"Oh, shut up. The man's been out of the loop all day." victor stood and moved to Clark. "She's alright, Clark."
"Well, how can you be sure she's..."
"Because I have eyes and ears. She's not... doing happy dances. But she's handling this pretty damn well, in my opinion."
"Handling... how much exactly?"
Victor sighed and nodded to the stairs. "Come on."
"Hey! Where are you guys..."
"No more rematches, Bart," Victor said over his shoulder, moving to the stairs. "Just accept my superiority."
"But this time, I can... aw..."
Clark followed Victor up the steps and to the roof-access door, moving through it when Victor gestured to it.
"I don't want you playing your mopey games over this," Victor said without preamble, moving out after Clark.
"I'm not mop..."
"Come on. it's not like we just met. I can see you're already preparing your sad, little speeches about how you hurt her, and how miserable you are and even going back to how, if you'd never come to Smallville, there wouldn't be bad experiences for her to wipe or meteor freaks to wipe them or..."
"Well, that's actually..."
"Doing nobody any good." Victor ran a hand over his head. "Jesus. If I didn't think the two of you were a pair before..." He took a deep breath, then turned to face Clark. "If she keeps going on about what a coward she was and you keep going on about what an assh*le you were, then we'll never get anywhere. The both of you need to drop it and just face your sh*t, not sit there whipping yourselves."
"Is she really... She doesn't have anything to... I mean, I was the one who..."
"Are you even listening? Just let it go."
"But it's something that happened."
"Yes. Happened. Past tense. Done. I'm..." Victor calmed himself. "You know what? No one's said a word about... whatever the hell it was with you two."
Clark blinked at him. "Not even Linda?"
"Linda included. Most of us agreed that that was up to you and... to be honest, most of us hardly know."
"Well... she should know."
"I'm not saying it shouldn't be said, but... There's a difference between learning from the past and living in it. She's got to learn to face the truth and you have to learn to stop being such a sad sack of guilt." He shrugged. "The way I see it, you're both in training. And I think neither of you can get anywhere, carrying all that f*cking baggage."
Clark frowned at the blacktop. "I guess it is like training. She has so much to..."
"And don't think you're done with yours. You only have a break now, due to... special circumstances."
"Call this a break?" Clark grumbled.
"I call this life. It goes on. She may have a lot to learn about the past, but the only reason she needs to know it is to go forward. And you need to do that, too. Stop being such a sorry sack of sh*t and cowboy up." Victor opened the door, gesturing for Clark to move through.
He did, mind whirring. How was he supposed to stop being sorry? Being sorry was about all he had to redeem himself after all he'd done... and hadn't done. He moved, dazed, into the living area, thinking of the moments, the many wasted moments, where everything could have changed if he just knew then what he knew now...
"...and when you remove an event that spawned other events, then it's rather like... Clark? Are you listening?"
"Huh?" He glanced up to see Murray sitting across the coffee table from him. He didn't even remember greeting him... or sitting. "I'm sorry. Were you saying something?"
"Well... yes. For the last few minutes, but I can see you're a bit distracted. I'll just..."
"No. I'm sorry. I just drifted for a..." Year. "...second. What were you saying?"
"Well, I think I may be figuring out how this Grady's ability works. See, he's not just moving through and picking up moments, he removes the... originating event, if you will, then manipulates the rest to make thigs fit, at least that's how I see it. But, from what I understand, it's rather like the impression a pencil leaves behind. You can erase and the information, but there are imprints, leavings. Imperfect, but there. It's similar to my work with robotic limbs. The limb is gone, but the mind is not ready to let go. The imprint, or ghost limb, remains. This is often to my advantage in helping a patient control his artificial limb, especially when it's rather fresh. The mind is more able to control the limb if there's still that imprint and... Well, Take our Mr. Stone." He gestured to Victor, who was lounging in the easy chair. "The work done on him was done immediately after the car accident that may well have ended his life completely. it might be the main reason why it all worked out so well, despite the circumstances surrounding it. I don't mean that it was anything more than unethical experimentation and highly reprehensible without consent or... Well, at any rate, if time had been wasted, he might experience less of control of his parts and..."
"Doc, as much as this is interesting for you and me," Victor cut in. "I think Clark actually might want to know how this applies to Lois."
"Oh, well, this may have been easier on her had this all happened sooner. But, in the case of robotic limbs applied even after the passage of a significant amount of time, there are still traces, imprints of a ghost limb, if you will. The subject just has to work harder to get the mind to recognize the limb. In Miss Lane's case, I think, the more events are reinforced, the stronger trace memories will be. I was trying to explain this over the phone to Miss Lane, herself, but she seems to have reached capacity today. I do hope to have many enlightening chats in the future. Simply fascinating, the way the mind..."
"Hey, look who's back!" Bart said, making Clark jump slightly as Linda and Ollie strolled out of the elevator. "Thank God," he whispered. "I hear one more science word and..."
"Hey! Look who's back!"
Bart glanced back at AC, near the control room. "I just said that." He snickered. "Where were you? And where's Di?"
"Grow up," AC groaned, jumping the railing into the living room.
"Where is Diana?" Ollie repeated, grasping Linda's hand. "Because we actually have..."
"Oh, she's around," AC said loudly. "I'm sure Diana will be with us any second. Hey!" He pointed. "Isn't that a hummingbird?"
Everyone turned, except Clark, who spied Diana, hurrying out of the spare room and tucking in her blouse, before he rolled his eyes and faced away with the others.
"That's ridiculous," Linda was saying. "There are no hummingbirds in Kansas, especially in the winter."
"My mistake," AC said, "I might need to get my eyes checked. Oh... Hey, Diana. You're still here."
Ollie turned, pulling Linda to his side. "Everyone's here, then?" He took a deep breath. "I have an... uh... Hold that thought." He frowned and pulled Linda aside. "Lois isn't here," Clark heard him say lowly. "Maybe we should at least get her on speaker phone or..."
"I told her," Linda whispered.
"You told her?" Ollie hissed.
"Well, I was going nuts, I had to tell somebody."
"You could've told me and saved us all this..." He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. But we should get Martha and..."
"Yeah. She knows, too."
"Did you just tell everybody?"
"Well, Sweetie, now you get to do the telling. Your turn."
He pursed his lips. "Still, I wish..." Linda put a hand to her stomach and he softened, moving forward with her again. "We have an announcement to make." He stood, silent and grinning like a fool.
Clark smiled slightly, glad Linda's fears of Ollie's reaction were unfounded.
"What? You're going to live the simple life Tahiti and leave me all your worldly possessions?" Bart guessed.
"Yes. Exactly, Bart," Linda groaned. "Honestly, let the man make his announcement."
"Well, I would if he'd just make it."
"I am. Just..." Ollie shrugged. "This is a big change, not just for us," he gestured to himself and Linda, "but for all of you, in a way. I guess... Maybe... How do I say this?" He took a deep breath. "There's going to be a new member of the League."
"Gonna need a bigger penthouse," Bart mumbled. He looked around. "What? It's crowded in here."
"Ollie, you might want to make things plainer," Linda said.
"I'm trying to build up anticipation." he hissed.
"Well, I appreciate that, but..."
"Just let me be the one to tell someone for a change." He turned to the room again. "Linda and I... are having a baby."
There was silence, before Murray popped up. "Oh... Congratulations!" He rushed to them, embracing them both. "This is just wonderful news. I know I'm rather new, but I am so glad to be included in this joyous moment."
"It's a big deal to us, too." Ollie smiled and patted Linda's belly, then furrowed his brows, looking at the rest of them. "Didn't you guys hear me? We're having a baby!"
"Wow," Clark said quickly, off a glare from Linda. "I don't know what to say."
Bart stood. "Yes. That is just... such a... surprise."
"Just great news," Victor added.
When Diana and AC chimed in with echoes of "Uh... Oh, my God!" and "Totally shocked, here, Bro," Clark suspected that Murray was about the only one Ollie got to tell.
"How far along?" Murray asked and Linda and Ollie turned to him.
"Totally knew it," Bart said, leaning in to Clark. "Sorry I didn't let the rest of you in, but Linda swore me to secrecy when I protested that fifteenth lemon water ice run."
"You owe me twenty bucks," Clark heard Diana say.
"I thought we called that off," AC whispered. "I said I agreed."
"But now we have confirmation, so pay up."
Clark shook his head as Bart stood up. "This calls for a celebration! I'm thinking teriyaki chicken and..."
"Ugh!" Linda made a face. "No chinese. Too sweet."
"Okay, how about hot wings and..."
"You know, I'm just not in the mood for anything spicy."
"Okay," Bart sighed. "What do you want? Seriously, you're looking at the man that can make it happen. As you know," he added in a low voice.
Linda stared at Bart, considering. "Okay... I want liver and caramelized onions with a side of pickled beets."
Bart gasped. "Why? Are you being punished?"
"No. I mean, I never liked it when I was a kid, but now it sounds so..."
"You'll be on your own with that." He turned to the room at large. "How about the rest of you? Hoagies or tacos or..."
"Anything vegetarian," AC said.
"Well, I'm in a beef mood," Diana chimed in.
Murray turned to him. "Teriyaki chicken actually sounds rather..."
"I'd like a hoagie," Clark found himself saying.
"Great," Bart groaned. "Thanks for making it simple."
Clark sat next to Victor as he disappeared. "I take it you were told, too?"
"No. But I figured it out when I saw the prenatal vitamins when I borrowed her lotion."
His eyes widened. "Her lotion?"
Victor turned nearly gray. "You dare say a word to Bart about that, and I'll tell him about the She-Ra doll thing AC found."
"Okay. I won't," he said, holding back a smile.
"It's not like I'm a a full-on robot, you know. I get dry skin sometimes and there's no shame in treating it. Anyway, she has all that fancy crap that actually works."
"You should ask where she shops. Maybe the two of you can make a day of it, get your nails..."
"Seriously, shut up."
"Got it." He smiled, sort of pulled into the mood as Bart came back and everyone began surrounding Linda and Ollie, laughing, suggesting their own names as the perfect choice.
"What if it's a girl?" Linda asked, snorting.
"Then she'll be the first female Bartholomew. An original."
"Thanks, but no thanks," Ollie said. "Even if it's a boy, I'm thinking... Connor or..."
"Connor?" Linda rolled her eyes. "Connor's not a first name. It's a last name. I hate that whole last names as first names thing. What's he going to do, play with his buddies, Riley, Hunter, and Smith?"
"Speaking of hunters," Diana chimed in. "You really can't do better than naming your possible daughter after the goddess of the hunt and..."
"Guys," Ollie cut in, "we'll work this out between us as soon as we find out the sex."
"What?" Linda blinked up at him. "We're not finding out the sex until I start screaming and pushing. This is my first baby and I want a surprise."
"But Babe, it's better to be prepared so we can see if the room will be pink or blue or..."
"I'm going with yellow. It's unisex."
"Well, if you're thinking unisex, then green is also not gender specific and..."
"No." She put a hand up. "No more green. I put up with dark green comforters and curtains and throw rugs. My baby will have bright, happy colors and..."
Clark wandered away from the argument and towards the window. This party was a little last minute, but it felt like one and he kind of wished she was here to enjoy it. Still... if she needed her space, then she should have it. He just wanted her to have what she needed. He hadn't always been so considerate of her, always pulling her to him and pushing her away, and then... Maybe Victor was right. Maybe he was focusing on the past. He could learn from his mistakes. By not dwelling on them and by not repeating them.
He moved back to the dining area and saw Linda spooning food into tupperware. "Thought we were just getting started." He smiled hesitantly a she looked up. "Little early to be putting away the leftovers."
"This is for Lois. I figured I should at least save her some goodies, even if she wants to be alone." She sighed. "I kind of hate that about her."
"You and me both."
"What do you know? We can agree."
Clark moved closer. "Listen, I wanted to thank you for not telling her all the... other stuff. I'm ready to come clean on everything as soon as she's ready to..."
"Yeah, That's another thing I can't stand about her." Linda placed the tupperware in a brown bag, joining several others. "Now more than ever, Lois doesn't know herself. She thinks she needs space, but what she really needs is... her best friend." She held out the bag. "Come on, Clark, if I can say that without gagging, then you can at least take this bag."
He took it, confused. "I thought we were supposed to..."
"I really don't care what we were supposed to do. Things don't always go the way they're supposed to." She started pushing him backward.
"But I can't just barge in when..."
"Who said anything about barging? You are making a delivery on my behalf. Its up to her if you stay for a chat." Her eyes turned thoughtful and she stopped. "A nice, long chat, hopefully, ecause most of us are sick of pussyfooting around the Clark landmines." She pushed him back again. "If I have to see her with that thousand-mile stare at the mention of your name again, I'll pitch a fit." She punched the elevator's down button. "And you know I'm capable."
"But..."
"No buts." She pushed him into the elevator. "Go. She... needs you." Linda shuddered slightly. "God, that was hard to say."
Clark stood frozen as the doors closed on him. If Linda could actually say it...
He just wanted her to have what she needed.
************************
Lois needed some air. It felt like the walls of her apartment were closing in on her. She nearly wanted to call Murray back, have him hook her up again. But the wristband wouldn't save her from her own thoughts, just drive her mad with beeping.
As it was, the crisp air felt good, thought cold. She pulled her sweatjacket tight and sat on her front stoop. It felt more open put here. She wasn't trapped inside her apartment, both dreading and hoping for some dream version of her visit her in her sleep, berate her for a few hours. it really took self-flagellation to a whole new level.
She took in a cold breath and let out a long puff of steam, leaning back against the front door. The air was rather still right now. Even the cold wasn't so bad as it just sat heavily around her, nearly thick and sheltering. It was sort of brisk and bracing, making her feel less out of touch with the world around her.
As it was, she didn't have it so bad. She had a home, a reasonable income, a dependable car. There might be starving, freezing people in other parts of the world that would envy her little identity crisis.
She frowned and pulled her cuffs over her hands.
Not being one of those starving, freezing people, she still reserved the right to complain.
If she could just reconcile that girl that went to Grady with the one she was now and the one she was then... but she didn't know any of those girls. She was a stranger to herself. Maybe it was because she had nothing now but work. Maybe it was because whatever crusade she had then, she still knew only bits and pieces. Whatever it was, it didn't change the fact that she was at least two people, if not three. And she hardly knew any of them. She wondered if...
Her eyes narrowed as a breeze blew her hair back and was gone. The air stilled again and she knew it wasn't exactly an act of nature -- a suspicion further confirmed when she spied movement behind one of the ancient oaks that lined her street.
"Clark," she sighed. "You might as well just come out."
Previous Chapter
Chapter Thirty-Three
No comments:
Post a Comment