Martha sighed as she watched her husband try to heave their luggage up the porch steps. "Jonathon, why don't you just call for Clark? I hate seeing you struggle with the suitcases."
As usual, he ignored her, grunting in frustration. "Martha, I have bailed hay all my life. I think that I can handle a couple of overnight bags."
"Jonathon, you haven't bailed hay for at least five years. The farmhands do that," she stated, watching her husband struggle.
Jonathon grunted again and let her overnight bag drop to the ground. "If it makes you happy, I'll call Clark, then, okay?"
"Be careful not to wake Lana up," Martha reminded him. But it was too late. His calls for Clark had awoken the both of them.
Upstairs in his boyhood bed, Clark groaned, rolling over. His arm hit something soft and fleshy, a reminder of the night before.
"Ow..." Lana groaned, rubbing her arm. "Are you made of steel or something?"
He winced. "Sorry. Guess I'm not a morning person." He tenderly kissed her arm.
"It's only eight in the morning," she yawned, glancing at the alarm clock. "Considering the night we had, I hadn't expected us to be awake until noon."
Clark grinned, wrapping his arms around her. "Maybe our bodies had other plans."
She smacked him lightly, frowning. "Clark, do you hear something?"
He squinted, a habit of his when concentrating. A moment later, his eyes got as big as saucers.
"My parents are home!" he whispered, throwing the covers off of him, revealing his ungodly male physique to Lana. He wrestled with his boxers and white tee before jumping into his gray sweatpants.
"I thought that they were coming home tonight," Lana said rather confused, watching him pace the room, his fingers in his hair.
"Looks like they lost interest in the nature exhibit," he muttered, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Suddenly, he stood up, turning to face her. "Dad is calling for me."
"Clark, wait," Lana called abruptly, clasping his hand in hers. "Don't tell them, yet. About us, I mean. I don't think that they'd approve and..."
He squeezed her hand. "I won't," he assured her, scooting closer to kiss her on the cheek. "Look, Lana...I've been doing some thinking. I know that the situation that we're in isn't the most ideal, but I just want you to know that I love you. I always will. But if you don't--"
"Clark, I love you, too," Lana interrupted. She slowly pulled her hand away from his, wringing them together. "Believe me, I do. I just...I need time. To sort through everything. My feelings for you...for Jason," she said softly, her gaze on the plaid comforter.
Hearing her mention his name made Clark uncomfortable, but he wasn't going to let her know that. He reached out for her hand again. "Lana, look at me." He cupped her chin and raised it so that she was looking at him. "This decision...it can't be easy for you. But whatever choice you make, we're going to have to live with it for the rest of our lives."
Before Lana could reply, he kissed her passionately on the lips, savoring the taste of her in his mouth.
"I'll be back. Get some sleep." Clark stood and padded toward the door.
"Clark!" Jonathon called from outside on the porch. He glanced over his shoulder at Martha for an explanation of their son's lack of super hearing this morning.
"Maybe he's sleeping. You know him; he can sleep through anything," she offered.
"Well, let's let him sleep then--" Jonathon began, ready to try to haul the luggage up the stairs. However, Clark emerged right then.
"Son, where were you? I've been calling your name for the past five minutes."
"I was...upstairs. Brushing my teeth," Clark lied, hoping that his breath didn't stink. He bent down to pick up the bags, stacking them on top of each other like they were made out of styrofoam.
"How was your trip?" he asked, making his way instead of the house, dropping the bags on the couch. He was careful to mess up his pillow and blankets a bit to make it seem like he'd actually slept in it.
"Refreshing," Martha answered, putting her arm around her son as he bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "It was really nice out in Grandville. The cabin that we rented was one of a kind. There was a stream that ran near it and it was all very beautiful."
"Well, I'm glad that you guys had fun."
"I wished that you and Lana had gone with us," Martha conceded. "You two would have liked it."
"Yeah, and Clark could've helped me catch some more fish with his x-ray vision," Jonathon said jokingly, taking a seat on the couch.
"Your father's still bitter about the lack of fish that he caught," she teased.
Clark laughed, shaking his head. "Maybe they were just hiding from you, Dad."
"Oh, very funny, son."
Martha smiled, enjoying the playful banter that continued between father and son. It had been too long since she'd last heard that noise. "So, how about some breakfast?"
"I'm going to go feed the cows," Jonathon announced, standing. "I'll be back in time for breakfast, Martha."
"Dad, I can take care of that, if you like."
"I appreciate the offer, son, but I'd like to take care of this myself. Show your mother that I can still run this farm."
Once he was gone, Clark approached his mother who was in the kitchen."What was that about, Mom?"
She sighed. "Your father is still insisting on running this farm by himself. I know that we have farmhands to help out, but I'd just wish that he'd take it easy sometimes. His heart isn't what it used to be."
"Maybe I should come out on the weekends. To help Dad with the farm," he suggested, watching his mother crack eggs into a bowl.
Martha riveted her eyes on her only son. "Clark, as concerned as you are about your father, I don't think that's a good idea. Besides, I don't want you to worry about us. We'll be fine."
From the tone of her voice, Clark knew that it would be best to drop the subject.
"So, what did you and Lana do while we were away?"
Clark opened the fridge to pour himself a glass of orange juice before carefully choosing his words. "Not much. I went to Metropolis a few times to patrol and Lana went into town a couple of times. Other than that...we just talked and hung out."
"Out of curiosity, did Lana's fiancé call or anything?" Martha asked curiously, pouring the scrambled eggs into the frying pan.
At the mention of Lana's engagement to another man, Clark stiffened slightly. However, before he could answer, the phone let out a shrill ring.
"I'll get it," he muttered. He waited for a second ring before picking the receiver up. "Hello?"
"Clark? It's Pete. I was wondering if you could come down and help me with my vows."
"Your vows? As in wedding vows?" Clark glanced over at his mother who was now preparing pancake batter.
"What kind of other vow do you know?" Pete asked, chuckling over the line. "Look, I know that you were always good at the mushy, emotional stuff, but me? I can't write to save my life, man."
Clark grinned. "I'd be happy to help you out. How 'bout I come over after breakfast."
"That's cool with me. Thanks."
"What are best mans for?"
After chatting with Pete some more, he hung up, announcing to his mom that he was going over to Pete's once he was finished with breakfast.
"Well, it'll give me some time to catch up with Lana," Martha commented as Clark took a seat at the breakfast counter, sipping his juice. "Would you go wake her up? Tell her that breakfast is almost ready."
"Sure." He downed the rest of his juice and padded upstairs. When he peaked in through the door of his childhood room, he had to smile, seeing her spread out on the mattress, dead to the world.
"Lana?" He gently shook her awake.
She groaned and swatted his arm away. "I thought you said for me to get some sleep."
"Yeah, but that was before Mom asked me to tell you that breakfast will be ready soon." He took a seat down in the bed, shooting a glance at the shut door. Cautiously, he kissed her, their lips lingering for a good minute or two.
"Mmm...your breath stinks."
"Yours does, too," Clark reminded her, grinning at her. She was perfect, lying in bed covered only by a comforter. Her hair was all over her face, covering the eyes that could pierce through his soul, see through his every lie, and understand his joy and pain.
He sat there for a few moments, taking in her beauty, his eyes never once leaving hers. Finally, it was Lana who broke the moment, sitting up. "I'd better get dressed."
"Yeah. Me too. I have to help Dad with the chores and then go over to Pete's to help him with his wedding vows."
They dressed in silence. Occasionally, Lana would catch Clark's eyes on her, causing her to blush. His glances at her, the looks that he gave her...all indications that he loved her. Which made it even harder for Lana to continue to do this to him. Engaged to another man. She had to break it off.
Suddenly, she felt a pair of warm arms slip around her waist from behind. Clark pressed a kiss to her neck. "I'll see you, later. I think that I'm just going to grab some toast and head out."
She nodded and watched as he headed out of the room, leaving the door slightly open on his way out. Lana then finished getting dressed, choosing an off-white summer dress that showed off her curves quite nicely. She had to hand it to Martha Kent; she knew how to pick out simple, but elegant dresses.
The aroma of bacon hit her nostrils as soon as she ventured downstairs. She spotted Martha over at the stove, preparing breakfast.
"Hi, Martha," she greeted warmly, stepping out to take a plate of toast from the breakfast counter to deliver it to the dining table.
"Lana, dear. Did you sleep well?"
Although she knew that the question was innocent enough, she blushed, remembering Clark's hands all over her body the night before. "Best night's sleep that I've had in a while."
"Well, that's good," Martha replied absent-mindedly. She pointed with her spatula to the coffee maker. "Go ahead and pour yourself a cup of coffee. Breakfast will be ready in a couple of minutes."
"Thanks, Martha." Lana helped herself to a coffee before setting the mug down. "Is there anything that I can do to help? Set the table?"
"That'd be wonderful, dear. Thank you," Martha said kindly, watching Lana as she hunted for plates, eating utensils, and such. "Could you go get Jonathon after you're done? He's out in the fields."
"Of course." Lana set up four place settings before realizing that Clark was probably over at Pete's, having finished his chores in record time. She picked up the intended place setting and brought it over to the counter.
"So, you and Clark have gotten close, haven't you?"
Lana nearly dropped the cream colored plate. She hastily placed it on the counter. "Umm...yeah. We've been talking...about stuff."
Martha stepped away from the stove once she turned down the heat a bit. She took a seat on one of the stools at the breakfast counter and Lana did the same.
"Have I told you about the first time that Clark saw you?"
Lana shook her head, wondering what brought this conversation on. Maybe Clark had said something to her... But she doubted it, knowing that Clark enjoyed his privacy as much as she did. Martha Kent always had the uncanny ability to see past blank expressions and well-thought-out lies.
"It was five months after the meteor shower that Clark and I finally went into town. Up until then, Jonathon usually did most of the grocery shopping because we were afraid that if Clark followed me to the store, he'd accidentally use his power. The only power he had then was super strength."
"Clark mentioned to me how you told him the first time he used his strength, it was on the tractor because his ball had rolled under there," Lana said conversationally.
Martha nodded. "Imagine a three year old being able to lift up a tractor that weighs God-knows-how-many-pounds. It was like something that you only see on TV, except that it was very real."
Lana laughed; wishing that she had been around the Kent farm when she was younger. Nell had always warned her to stay away from them, that they liked to keep to themselves, which wasn't an exact lie. But somehow, Lana knew that there was more to the story, since Nell hadn't quite gotten over the fact that Jonathon had chose Martha over her.
"Anyway, that day, Jonathon was in Grandville for the farmer's market and I was low on bread and milk. I decided to take my chances and drive into town. Clark was too young to understand that he couldn't very well use his power out in public, so I asked him to wait in the truck."
"I'm guessing that didn't sit too well with him?" Lana asked, imagining a three- year-old Clark sitting in the passenger seat of the truck with a pout on his adorable face.
Martha laughed, shaking her head. "When I came out fifteen minutes later, he was gone. I went back to the market, hoping that he had followed me in, but the clerk at the counter said that he hadn't. I was about to call Jonathon from a pay phone when I saw him in the window of the Nell's flower shop across the street."
"Nell never told me this story," Lana pointed out.
"I'm sure that she had her reasons, since Clark broke nearly three pots of ferns over at the bargain section."
Lana laughed, fiddling with the corner of a napkin that had been knocked out of the napkin holder.
"Right when I came in, Nell directed me to Clark. She had allowed him to stay with you, at the back of the store since he kept asking her about you."
Lana blushed, bowing her head. Clark had told her that he had been in love with her since a young age, but she had thought he'd been exaggerating.
"When I came to the back room, you and Clark were both sitting at a small tea table, pretending to sip tea. I remember staying at the doorway, watching you pour him more tea before Clark finally noticed me," Martha narrated, a far-off expression on her countenance.
"Did Clark say anything to me?" Lana asked curiously, balling up the napkin.
Martha shook her head. "You'll have to ask him about that. He never told me." She reached over and squeezed Lana's hand in a mother-daughter affectionate way before standing from her stool.
Lana watched as she returned to the stove, shutting it off and pouring sausages into a cream-colored plate. Martha Kent was probably more like a mother to her than her Aunt Nell was. Although she loved her aunt deeply, she knew that Nell would never truly understand the particular dilemma that she faced now...engaged to one man, in love with another.
Lana sighed, releasing the balled-up napkin from her right hand.
"Lana, would you let Jonathon know that breakfast is about ready?" Martha asked as she carried over the plate of sausages to the table.
"Of course." Before she could reach the door, though, the phone rang.
"We've been getting a lot of calls this morning," Martha observed, glancing over her shoulder at Lana. "Do you mind getting that?"
Lana shook her head and picked up the receiver, ignoring the sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Hello?"
"Hello? Lana, is that you?"
"So, what seems to be the problem?" Clark asked as soon as he stepped through the threshold of the Ross family household where most of his siblings and their families were staying until the wedding. It was such a tight fit that Clark wondered how anyone got any sleep.
"What?" Pete inquired over the blaring of the television in the family room, the ruckus of his nieces and nephews, and the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen.
"Never mind."
"What?"
Clark shook his head. He grabbed Pete's arm and dragged him out of the house. Once outside, his head began to clear of the noise. "I said what seems to be the problem with your wedding vows?"
"Uhh...hold on." Pete scrambled back into the house and a few minutes later, came out with a notepad and pen in his hand, not to mention bits of colorful play-duh on his head.
"You have some gunk on your head," Clark commented as Pete took a seat on the grass. Clark sat down next to him as well, helping him get rid of the play-duh.
"I swear that once Marie and I get married, we're going to wait at least ten years before having kids."
Clark laughed, shaking his head. "Pete, once you get married, babies and kids will be the only thing that Marie talks about."
"I doubt it. My baby niece vomited on her the other day. I don't think she was too fond of the idea after that."
Changing the subject back to the wedding vows, he asked, "So, what seems to be the problem with your vow?"
"I keep getting blocked, man. I know what I want to say...I just can't find the words," Pete collaborated, tapping the top of his pen on the notepad.
"Well, Pete, it's just best if you just pour everything out onto paper. Maria loves you, man. She doesn't care if you can barely write a couple of sentences." Clark slapped him on the back.
"How do you make it so easy?"
"What do you mean?"
"You and Lana. I mean, ever since we were little, you've been chasing after her. And look at you two now."
Clark shifted uncomfortably. "Lana and I are just...friends."
"You were always a terrible liar, Clark," Pete said with humor. "After ten years of being apart from her, she suddenly waltzes back into your life. You can't honestly expect me to believe that you two are just 'friends.' Besides, I've never seen you this happy since our senior year of high school."
Clark sighed. "Am I that transparent?"
"Transparent as a ghost."
"What am I going to do, Pete? She's getting married next month...to another guy," he said unhappily, head in his hands.
It was Pete's turn to pat him on the back. "Look, I'm not an expert on this stuff, but what you and Lana had back in school was real. I've never told you this, but I've always been a bit envious of you."
"Of me?" Clark repeated.
Pete nodded. "Remember when we were seven? We were out by Crater Lake, fooling around, pretending to be fishing with a couple of tree branches that we found and some yarn. That was the first time that you told me that you were in love with Lana."
"I remember that. You laughed at me for nearly five minutes. Said that we were too young to be falling for 'icky' girls."
"Yeah, well, I regret it now," Pete confessed, grinning. "Truth is, you knew who you were in love with at seven, and you went for it. Flash forward to now, and you're still at it."
Clark sighed. "Yeah. But right now, I'm not too convinced that I should keep going for it."
"Why?"
"Lana's engaged, Pete. And not to me. It's as simple as that."
"Lana went out with Whitney and that didn't stop you from trying to get closer to her."
"But that was different..."
Pete shook his head, confident in his belief. "No, it wasn't. Different guy, same story."
"Maybe it's just too late for us," Clark said miserably, pulling out blades of grass from the lawn.
"That's up to you, man. Do you want it to be too late, or do you want to keep hanging in there?"
Clark took a moment to mull over everything that Pete just said. "And I thought I was the expert in this field."
"Hey, I learned from the best," Pete teased, slapping him on the back in a brotherly affectionate way.
In spite of everything, Clark knew that he was still madly in love with Lana. He wasn't sure that he had ever stopped, nor if he would. That belief, that notion...would have to be the driving force for his forthcoming actions.