so, i was too excited about this to wait to write it. this is Martha's POV to And Then There Were Two, the second installment in the Lilies saga. as with Chloe's POV in Something For Lois in the first installment, this should run around five chapters or so.
i hope you enjoy and thanks for continuing to follow this saga.
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Author: Alison
Disclaimer: Characters belong to DC, CW, AlMiles, etc., etc., etc. I only own the story, so please don't take that away from me. My cat met Keith Urban as he walked out the front door of the Fabulous Fox Theatre after the fan club concert in Atlanta a couple of weeks ago. I was waiting around the corner by his bus. She's still rubbing it in my face.
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Part 1
She didn't notice everyone leaving. She barely felt the harsh cold or the light snow falling softly around her.
The only thing left to feel was the emptiness.
Her tears, what few she had left in her to cry, were frozen to her cheeks. The tissue clutched tightly in her hand dabbed gently at her nose as she watched the casket sink farther into the ground.
Her son stood motionless beside her. He hadn't said much all day but when he did, it was to say how much he regretted he couldn't do more to save his father. He still believed it was entirely his fault his father was gone.
She walked slowly around the grave, lightly touching the top of the headstone as she passed. She looked up at her son, but he never glanced her way. He slowly stooped and grasped a handful of dirt, gently sprinkling it over his father's casket as it drifted slowly into the earth.
He stood and briefly looked at his mother.
What were they to do now? How do you go on from here? What do you do when the one constant thing in your life is suddenly gone?
She was about to turn and walk away when he suddenly knelt back down and plucked a lily from a nearby arrangement. He held it softly to his nose and closed his eyes before tossing it in the grave on top of the casket.
She didn't know how to go on. She didn't know where to go. Should she go home? Should she go to the store? They needed milk. And she needed to pick up something from the hardware store to fix that porch light. She should've made a list.
What was important anymore?
She certainly didn't feel as if her life mattered much anymore. Not without him. She'd lost him. It was too soon. It was just too soon.
She'd told her son that his father had lived a good long life. She'd said he'd used his heartbeats more than anyone else she'd ever known.
But in reality, she wished his heart could've beat forever.
He was her best friend. She loved him more than she ever dreamed. They were soul mates, even if they didn't come across as the most romantic star-crossed lovers who ever lived.
But she loved him and she always knew he loved her, too.
The soft touch on her shoulder shook her from her thoughts and told her it was time to go. If he were still alive, he'd want her to go, too. There was nothing more she could do there anyway.
Clark walked her to the car and opened the passenger door. She got in and he gently closed the door.
The ride home was filled with random thoughts and memories. Flashes of him working on the tractor, baling hay, and playing football with Clark danced through her mind. She smiled faintly when, just a few weeks ago, he showed up late one night at the Talon with some flowers and a pizza. She'd called him to say she'd be working late to catch up on some bookkeeping. An hour later he was standing in the middle of the Talon.
She missed that. She missed his spontaneity. For all his stubbornness and resistance to change, he was still spontaneous when it came to being romantic.
From the first moment she saw him in college, when she asked to borrow his notes for class, even though she was the official class note taker, she knew she loved him. Her first thought, even then was, "I hope he marries me."
And he did.
She didn't realize they were home until Clark opened her door. She stepped out and stood next to the car as he closed her door. He never said a word, but hung his head and walked to the barn. She didn't know what more she could say to him. It was probably best to let him be, at least for now.
The snow was still falling steadily. She blinked slowly as the flakes gently hit her face. The bright yellow farmhouse was so pale against the snow. It was as if it, too felt his loss.
She glanced around the farm. The calves in the field seemed to be enjoying the fresh snow as they romped and jumped through the drifts. The gate leading into the hay field swung softly on its hinge in the light wind.
The snow made everything appear somewhat ethereal. She couldn't hear anything as she watched the snow fall silently around the farm. Their farm. His farm.
She looked back at the house. The light was on in the kitchen. Someone was obviously home. Was it wrong that she secretly wished it was him?
She'd never again come home to him. She'd never see his smiling face or kiss him as she walked through the door after a long day of working at the little coffeehouse.
She'd never…
Wiping the tears that'd silently begun to fall, she slowly stepped through the snow and up the steps of the old house. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she grasped the doorknob. She slowly opened the door and stepped across the threshold, opening her eyes and staring at the floor.
Instantly, she was in his arms, just back from their honeymoon, as he carried her across the threshold into their home for the first time.
"Welcome home, Mrs. Kent." He smiled and leaned towards her, passionately kissing her. He set her down and she pulled him closer to her. "I love you, Martha. And I will until the end of time."
She smiled and kissed him softly, then whispered in his ear.
"I know."
He smiled and picked her up, both laughing as he carried her up the stairs.
"Mrs. Kent, let me take your coat."
The scene faded around her. He was gone. There was no more laughing. There were no more kisses. There was no more.
She could feel her coat being removed. Her arms slowly pulled out of the sleeves as she clung tightly to the tissue she'd had all morning. She couldn't move. She didn't know how.
"There's plenty of food if you're hungry. You probably haven't eaten all day. There's everything from ham and vegetables to cake and brownies."
It's not that she didn't hear Lois. She did. But she just didn't want to talk. She just didn't want to do anything.
Anything, that is, except remember.
She kept her eyes to the floor as Lois hung her coat on the hall tree in the living room.
"Where's Clark?"
The mention of her son's name made her glance up momentarily at the young woman.
"I think he went up to his loft."
"Oh, okay." Even though she was in a completely distraught state of mind, the disappointment in Lois's voice didn't go unnoticed. "Well, would you like anything to eat? There's tons of food here and I think there's even more in the freezer that could be thawed. You know, people will bring anything by, even--"
"Lois." She held up her hand. "Thank you for all you've done, but I think I'm just gonna go to bed. I've got a headache and I'm just not hungry."
She was grateful for all Lois had done, but at the moment, she just wanted to be alone. She walked to the stairs as Lois spoke.
"Okay. I'll just put some of it away. Should I go see if Clark wants anything?"
It honestly didn't matter. She knew her son. If he wanted food, he'd come looking for it.
She stopped at the first step, placed her hand on the railing and turned to face Lois.
"If you want. He hasn't said a word since this morning. So, I doubt you'll get anything out of him."
She just couldn't deal with it right now. She'd just buried her husband. There was more on her mind than food right now. It just wasn't important.
Gradually, she made her way up the stairs, turning down the hallway at the top of the landing. She was dreading it as she reached the doorway.
Her hand gently rested on the doorframe as she brought her other hand, still holding the tissue damp with her tears, to her chest.
The bedroom was dark. She could see the snow fall in the evening light as it filtered through the cold window panes.
She walked into the room and across to her dresser. Reaching for her earlobes, she took off her earrings and laid them on the antique mirror. Her eyes drifted over to their wedding picture. He stood so proud in his rented tux. She fought so hard to get him to wear it that day. He wanted to wear a simple suit, but she managed to talk him into something a little nicer. The tears began to fall again as she'd give anything now to let him wear that ragged suit.
She sat on the edge of the bed and unzipped her boots, still wet from the deep snow. They dropped to the hardwood floor as she spun around and lay on the bed, turning towards the center and bringing her knees to her chest.
His smell was still there. She closed her eyes and laid her hand on his pillow. She openly began to sob, lightly balling her fist and hitting his pillow. The frustration, coupled with distress and grief, overwhelmed her. She still didn't understand why he was gone, especially at a time in her life when she needed him most. Everything she knew was changing. She didn't know if she could handle raising Clark alone. She didn't know if she could go on living alone.
He'd want her to be strong. He'd tell her that she could survive. She didn't always believe him, but she did always trust him.
The tears couldn't be controlled now. She thought she'd cried them all in the last few days, but she was wrong. Nothing could've prepared her for this final goodbye.
She sobbed harder than she had in her entire life. But then, she'd never before loved anyone the way she loved him.
She'd never tell anyone, mainly for fear no one would believe her. But as she lay there, she could've sworn she felt a hand on her shoulder that she wasn't sure was an angel, a ghost or even her hopeful imagination.
But whatever it was or wasn't, she knew it was his way of telling her everything was somehow going to be okay.