The Daughter Yet to Be

Chapter 2

"Megan," began Jonathan tentatively, "I certainly understand the need for secrecy in order to maintain the natural course of events as much as possible, but…under the circumstances, do you have any relatives that maybe…would understand why this has happened…even at this point in time…and be able to help you."

"Not that you're not welcome to stay with us," Martha added quickly as she led Megan up to Clark's loft.

Megan sighed, giving them a solemn look. "I wish it were that simple, but any of my relatives having even just the knowledge that one day I'll exist may change the future." She turned her eyes away and chuckled sardonically. "Listen to me. I'm already referring to my own time as 'the future.'"

Martha looked at Megan with compassion as she took a seat on the couch next to her. She seemed so lost…yet so unshaken. Either she was putting up a brave face, or Megan was just a very brave girl. Martha wouldn't have been surprised if it were the latter. After all, Lana was a very brave girl.

"It's especially critical that neither one of my parents know who I am," Megan continued. "It's like…if they knew that they would one day have a daughter, they might get too confident in the fact that they're going to stay together. Then, they may not put as much effort as they would have into building and maintaining the relationship…which could lead to a break-up…which means I don't exist."

"I never would've thought of that," admitted Martha in awe.

"I know," Megan said thoughtfully. "It's scary, to say the least," she added with a nervous chuckle. "I'm already taking a risk letting you guys in on my secret, but I don't think I have much of a choice." She looked up at them, a new expression of regret showing on her face. "I'm so sorry to burden you with keeping this secret for me," she said.

"Don't worry about it," Jonathan said. "We Kents know how to keep our mouths shut."

"But how do we explain you to our son, anyway? He's quite fond of your mom, and I think he would notice a girl who looks just like her in the house."

Megan pondered. "Tell him I'm…a cousin that Mom doesn't know about. Maybe I was given up for adoption, and my birth mom just found me or something."

"It'll need work," Jonathan observed, "but I think we can pull something like that off."

"Great!" said Megan with almost undue cheer. "When will your son be back?"

"In about two days," answered Martha.

"Oh, that long?" Megan asked, slightly surprise. "In that case, it may not even come up because I'm hoping to have done what I need to do and be gone sooner than that."

"Tell me something, if you can," said Martha gently. "In the future, do the three of us know each other at all?"

Megan pursed her lips, hesitation dancing in her eyes for a split second. She then replied with a small smile, "Yeah. We do. Pretty well, actually."

Martha responded with a small smile of her own. "I'm glad. It's a shame you can't stay for a while longer than you obviously intend to, but at least I know I'll be seeing you again sometime to come."

Megan nodded. She then grinned sideways at Jonathan.

Jonathan half-smiled back. "What?"

"Where I come from, your hair is much more gray," she teased.

Martha laughed.

Jonathan chuckled and ran his hands through his dusty blonde hair.

"But don't worry, Mr. Kent," Megan reassured him. "You don't look half bad as a silver-head."

"Gee, thanks," said Jonathan, not sure what else to say to a compliment on his future self.

An awkward silence ensued for a few moments before Martha stood up. "Well, I have to go check on dinner. Feel free to join us if you're hungry."

"Oh, trust me, I'll be there," Megan replied with a nervous chuckle. "Until then, I need to…collect my thoughts, anyway."

Jonathan proceeded to follow his wife down the old wooden loft stairs. "Well, if you need anything, we'll be in the house.

Megan smiled warmly. "Okay."

The Kents soon disappeared from view, leaving Megan alone with her thoughts. She knew she should be coming up with some semblance of a plan, but instead she just let out a heavy sigh, stood up, and walked idly to the railing at the front of the loft. She stared off into space, thinking about everything she wasn't telling Jonathan and Martha. Though she felt a little squeamish and even guilty for keeping such pertinent information, she also knew that it just wouldn't be right for them to know. Lost in her thoughts, she explored the loft, which was ironically quite familiar to her, as her concentration slowly turned from idle sentiment to dealing with Jason Teague and anyone else who may have come to the year 2004 to influence her family history and essentially kill her in a way no law can punish.