"A PLACE I KNEW"
Part II
At five after three, Clark entered the Talon. The smell of freshly brewed coffee was the first thing that hit him. The second thing that struck him was how the decor of the Talon had changed. The yellows and purples had been replaced with muted taupe, dusty pinks, and pale mauves. The basic layout hadn't changed, chairs and tables and couches in roughly the same spots as the last time Clark and been in the Talon.
It wasn't difficult to locate Chloe. Her professional grab from yesterday had been replaced by a dress and blazer that looked straight out of Chloe's wardrobe from high school. The dress was pink and brown and flowered. The blazer was green and made from corduroy.
The black tabletop held two cups of coffee. Apparently she had ordered for him.
The chair was hard. He sat down and wished that Chloe had chosen one of the lounge chairs. Evidentially she had in mind serious conversation. Nothing then could be comfortable. He couldn't feel pain, but he could feel discomfort. He didn't like discomfort. He was sure Chloe was relishing in his discomfort.
"You're late," she said flatly once he had seated.
"Sorry," he mumbled, glancing down at his drink. Whipped cream covered the top of the drink. He took a sip. It was a vanilla latte. The whip cream had been Chloe's choice then.
"I expected it. You were always late in high school."
He bristled at that. It had been thirteen years since they had gone to high school together. He had changed, just like she had changed. Equating him with a kid who had existed thirteen years annoyed him, and was akin to committing a fallacy.
"Plus, Lois tells me about your chronic lateness. She says you have it down to an art," Chloe said with a cheeky smile.
He took a mental step backwards. He hadn't expected that comment, not in a million years. "Lois?" he questioned. "As in Lois Lane?"
"Yeah, that's the one."
"I didn't realize you two were friends," Clark said. He was trying to be causal; to cover-up his initial shocked reaction.
"We're cousins, actually."
He remembered Chloe telling him of her having a cousin at Met U, back in freshman year. Lois could have been that cousin, although Chloe had never mentioned a name. She only ever referred to the person as iher cousin/i, never handing out her cousin's name.
Now Clark briefly wondered why Chloe had never mentioned her cousin's name. It hadn't seen odd at the time, but it seemed odd now.
"Lois hasn't ever mentioned you."
Chloe tilted her head to the right, loose curls falling astray. She looked at him and looked hard. "I never told her we went to high school together."
"Why not?" He was genuinely curious about why Chloe hadn't divulged to Lois facts he had chosen to omit.
"She didn't know you were from Smallville," Chloe said simply. "She thought you were from Metropolis. I didn't see any reason to correct her."
It was an odd gift to bestow, the gift of allowing him to have his secrets, and it wasn't a gift Chloe would have given him back in high school. She had been a curious teenager, one who pressed him on numerous occasions for the truth. Even when she had crossed the line, she could never fully give up her search for the truth. Her activities involving his adoption records had proven that.
But while Clark was thankful Chloe had kept his secret, he didn't know how to thank her. How did a person thank someone for something that seemed insignificant in the grand scheme of things but significant on a personal level? On one hand, it was hardly noteworthy that he had grown up in Smallville. On the other hand, he had never wanted to discuss his past and his former life as a farm boy from Smallville was something he liked to keep close to his chest. So it mattered to him personally but it wasn't a huge thing.
"You did quite well for yourself after Smallville," Chloe commented, her voice causing his attention to snap back to the present. "Princeton for your BA in Journalism—not too shabby for a boy raised in nowhere, Kansas."
"You seem to know a lot," Clark mused.
"Lois has a big mouth," Chloe remarked. Her tone was sprinkled lightly with amusement. "She was insanely jealous when you started at the Planet."
"Because I went to Princeton?"
"She figured you were a spoiled rich boy used to having everything handed to him on a silver spoon."
"I bet that impression lasted long," Clark retorted dryly. Money wasn't an issue, but he tended towards baggy suits from the clearance racks and plastic black-rimmed glasses. His condo had two bedrooms but was still tiny. He definitely didn't fit the stereotype for spoiled rich boy.
"I think it lasted about a week."
He took another sip of his drink. It wasn't what he would have ordered. It'd do. At least there had been copious amounts of whip cream. Lois, when she was in charge of the Starbuck runs, tended to order everything non-fat and no whip. It didn't matter if he wanted the calories. Lois wasn't going to let him have them.
When it was him turn to do the runs, he often got Lois's drink full-fat. He just didn't tell her that. So far, she hadn't noticed. Lois was like that. She missed the little things. The big things she didn't miss. But small things, like the similarities between Clark Kent and Superman were beyond her capabilities of recognition.
And he relied on that.
"So what is Chloe Sullivan up to?" he asked, changing the topic. They had talked enough about him. "Are you still Chloe Sullivan?"
Clark didn't want to be, but he was curious about Chloe. The Daily Planet had been her dream, not his. And yet somehow he had ended up there and Chloe had ended up elsewhere.
He didn't want to feel curious. He wanted to be detached and aloof. It was difficult though. He hadn't realized it, but he had missed Chloe. He had forced his memories of Smallville into a box and hadn't opened that book at all in over ten years. But now he was back in Smallville and all the memories were coming back, including the memories of his friendship with Chloe. Some bad memories, true, but a number of good memories, good times forgotten temporarily but now coming back.
God, he was a Celine Dion song.
A part of him didn't want to know anything about Chloe. The bigger part of him was curious, which was what had driven him to ask the question about what Chloe was up to. He wanted to know her but then again he didn't want to know her. A part of him wanted Chloe to remain firmly in the past.
Another part of him wasn't sure what he wanted anymore.
"Still a Sullivan," Chloe confirmed. "I write for The Globe and Mail."
Clark hadn't expected Chloe's answer. He had assumed she lived in Smallville still, had thought that if she was in journalism that she'd at the Smallville Ledger. "That's a Canadian newspaper, correct?"
Chloe nodded. "Yeah, it's a Canadian newspaper. I cover American news, usually American politics. Canadians are surprisingly riveted by our politics."
"Going to take a wild stab here and say you don't live in Smallville anymore."
"No, I live in Ottawa," Chloe said.
In all honesty, Clark wasn't surprised to here Chloe had moved on. If he hadn't seen her yesterday, he would have assumed she had left Smallville years ago. Chloe had never belonged in Smallville, built not for small town life. Smallville was only meant to be a temporary home, never anything permanent. She was similar to him in that respect. They were both outsiders in Smallville, neither meant to stay forever in this small town.
Strangely enough, he found himself happy that she had moved past Smallville. He hadn't realized he had been saddened yesterday when he had believed Chloe to have remained in Smallville following high school.
But if Chloe was lived in Ottawa, then that begged the question about why she was in Smallville.
"Are you just here for the funeral?"
"Sort of," Chloe hedged. "I had been meaning to come to Smallville. I kept putting it off but I had set a date for next week. Then my dad phoned about your mother's death and I bumped my trip up."
"My dad appreciated you coming. It meant a lot to him."
"And what did it mean to you?" she asked softly. But it didn't really sound like a question. It sounded more like a thought voiced, perhaps a thought that shouldn't have been voiced.
He didn't say anything. He didn't have to say anything, the arrival of Lana and another person pre-empting the need for him to respond.
Lana was still beautiful. She wore jeans and a pink blouse, her hair still long. She had gained some curves over the past ten years. His eyes drifted down to her hands. She wasn't wearing a wedding ring. In front of her was a kid who looked to be about nine or ten. He was dressed in a white shirt with Superman on the front, paired with blue jeans. His resemblance to Lana was uncanny.
Clark had thought that, if he did run into Lana, it would hurt. Not a lot but at least a little bit. Seeing her here, with a child clearly hers, didn't hurt. He loved her, in the way a person always loves their first love, but it didn't hurt.
"Hey guys, sorry to intrude, but Nathan wanted to say hello," Lana said, her voice soft.
The kid, Nathan, smiled sheepishly and gave a small wave.
"It's fine," Chloe said. She reached over and ruffled Nathan's hair. She sat back and pointed at Clark. "This is Clark," she said to Nathan. "He went to high school with your mother and me."
Clark watched in bemusement as Nathan stared at him. He saw Lana give Nathan a light shove forward. Nathan took the hint and held out a hand. "It's nice to meet you."
Clark smiled and shook Nathan's hand. The kid's grip was loose. "It's nice to meet you too Nathan." He glanced up at Lana. "Do you guys want to join us?"
Lana shook her head. "We have some errands to run, I'm afraid." She turned slightly to face Chloe. "We'll see you at about six?"
"I'll be there," Chloe said.
Lana nodded. Her eyes fell to him. She smiled at him. "Clark, it was nice to see you again," Lana said, even though they hadn't so much as exchanged a single sentence.
"You too," he said, the first words he had spoken to Lana in more than thirteen years. It seemed anticlimactic. When he was younger, he used to envision the things they would say to one another if they happened to run into each other. The exchange of just a few polite words hadn't ever occurred to him.
Life, Clark had found, often turned out that way. The one situation you never thought would happen became the one thing that did happen.
Nathan offered up his own goodbyes and then Lana was guiding Nathan out of the Talon. It had been a mundane experience, unexpected but not unwelcome. He hadn't expected Lana to have a child, but she had seemed happy, her smile far more genuine than it had been in high school.
"Well, that was unexpected," Clark said.
Chloe arched an eyebrow. "Didn't expect to see Lana with a kid?"
He hadn't but he didn't say that. Instead he said, "Nathan seems like a nice kid."
"He is." She tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm his godmother, but I don't see him nearly as often as I should," she said, sounding sad and wistful at the same time.
"You haven't visited in a while, I take it?"
"Not in about five years, unfortunately," she said. Chloe smiled at him, but there was something guarded in her eyes. "Work has kept me busy."
"Oh."
"But it's not like I haven't seen Lana and Nathan. They normally come and spend Christmas with me and my dad. Then they usually visit me during summer break."
"That's good," Clark said for lack of anything else to say. It was great for Chloe that she had managed to maintain her friendship with Lana. Clark couldn't help but feel like she was trying to make him feel guilty.
His hunch was proven right a second later as Chloe said, "Not all of us completely sever our ties when we leave." The bitterness of her tone wasn't unexpected. Thirteen years ago he had left Smallville for a second time, severing the ties to his childhood. He had expected a certain level of anger on Chloe's part. He had expected it on Lana's part too, but Lana had moved on it seemed.
Chloe hadn't, not that he was surprised. His leaving had just been another thing he had done which had hurt her. He hadn't meant to, had never meant to hurt her, but she had been hurt all the same, on numerous occasions. He understood that.
"Our situations are completely different," Clark replied with a sigh. Their conversation had been going so well, the type of conversation between two old friends out having coffee. He didn't want to get into a fight. He had fought with Chloe enough times in the past.
Clark also knew Chloe rarely let things go. He doubted she would let him just brush aside his leaving and non-contact. He had known, realistically, that this would happen. He just had hoped it wouldn't. He had just hoped it wouldn't.
"Maybe so," Chloe said calmly. "But you still could have, I don't know, called or even emailed us. But there was nothing, not a thing until I get a call from Lois, who tells me the name of her new partner at the Planet."
"There's a lot you don't know."
"I know enough," Chloe tossed back and Clark wondered just what she knew.
But it didn't matter what Chloe knew or didn't know. He didn't owe her anything. He didn't owe her explanations. He had behaved badly in the past, he knew, but he had been young and lost. He wasn't absolved from the bad decisions he had made, but they had been his to make and his alone. He couldn't take back those decisions, not that he would, and he wasn't about to offer Chloe fake apologies.
He disentangled Chloe's hand from his and took a step back. "Goodbye Chloe." He turned and began walking away.
His dad was staring at the TV was he arrived back at the farm.
"I'm back," he said when he entered through the front door. He didn't knock. He didn't see the need to. This had been his home, once upon a time.
"That's good, son." Jonathan looked away from the TV for a moment. "Did you have a nice time?"
Clark shrugged. "It was fine. Just catching up with Chloe."
"That's nice. Did you have a good time?"
"I'm going to get something to eat," he muttered, ignoring the question and abandoning his dad and the living room. He went to the kitchen, grabbed an apple and went upstairs to his former bedroom. He logged on to the Planet mainframe and checked his email, responding to a message Jimmy had sent him.
When it was closer to dinnertime, he left the room and went downstairs. His dad was still watching TV listlessly. He sighed. He made dinner again. Once the food was ready, he called his dad and they sat down to eat in front of the TV. The kitchen felt too empty to eat in.
On a commercial break, he broached the subject of a move to Metropolis. His dad just shook his head. "This is my home, son," Jonathan said, eyes gazing at the TV.
Clark let it go, for now. Judging by the way his dad was acting, he might have to force the issue. It wasn't what he had wanted but he hadn't expected the extent to which his mother's death would destroy his father. His dad was only fifty-eight, not old but not young either.
Shaking his head, he set his thoughts aside and concentrated on finishing his supper. Once he was finished eating, he could escape back upstairs. There he could work and pretend he was in his apartment. He could imagine he wasn't feeling guilty about the way he had left things with Chloe, that he wasn't witnessing his dad's decline in stability.
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