CHAPTER 2

The next morning…

Martha was in the kitchen making breakfast when Clark came in, stretching his arms out and yawning. "Good morning," coming over to her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "So where's Dad? Isn't he having breakfast?" he asks as he grabs a potholder and picks the blue coffee pot off the stove.

"He went out. I have no idea where," she sighs as she drops an egg sunny side up in the middle of a slice of bread already toasting in the cast-iron pan.

"That smells good," Clark remarks as he pours some coffee into a mug. "Is that pimento?" looking into the pan.

"Pimentos and green peppers," she replies as she sautés them alongside the bread with eggs. "So how is your sister? How are my grandbabies?"

"The whole family is fine," he replies.

"So will they be here for Christmas?"

"I told you when I talked to her the other day that they won't be able to make it this year," he tells her.

"That's right, I forgot," she sighs again.

He sets his mug down on the kitchen table and pulls out a couple of blue plates out of the china cabinet. "So I thought I should mention that I think there's something wrong with the shower in the bathroom. It could be the pipes but I'm not sure. We really should call someone."

"Your father called Mr. Castorini this morning. He'll be by in the next day or so to look at it.

"Good," he says as he stirs some sugar and milk in his coffee.

"So will you live here?" she asks while flipping the eggs over.

"No," he answers back as he begins to drink his coffee.

"Why not?"

"Dad doesn't like Lois," he says with a sigh as he walks over to Martha with the plates and sets them down on the counter next to the stove.

"That's not true," she replies as she puts one egg-bread combo on each plate and places the sautéed peppers and pimento on top of each one. "Your father does like her. He just has a hard time showing it," trying to reassure him.

"I don't know about that," Clark replies with a frown as he picks up one of the plates and sets it down on the table. "Lois has a huge apartment and I'm sure she'll want to live there," he says as he pulls up a chair and sits down.

"Is that what you want?" Martha asks as she brings her plate over and sits down next to him.

"I would love to live here, but I just don't think that Lois and Dad would get along," taking a bite but then setting his fork down.

She looks at him with concern etched on her face. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Not really," leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

"You need to eat something," she insists.

"Okay, okay," taking another bite. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," she smiles back.

Clark can't help chuckling as he starts to take another bite, but then the phone rings. "I'll get it," he says and gets up. "Hello," he answers. "Hi, Lois," he says with a smile.

"Clark, hi," she answers back in a tired voice.

"How was the plane ride?" he asks.

"Long," she replies.

"So how is your father?" he asks while leaning against the wall.

"He made it through the night," she tells him. "I might have to stay a few extra days though."

"I'm really sorry to hear that," he replies. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I'm afraid not," trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. "I was going to tell him we were getting married, but he was asleep when I finally got in to see him. I'll wait until he wakes up and see how he is then."

"I think that's a good idea," agreeing with her.

"So did you call Oliver yet?" she asks.

"Not yet," he tells her. "I was going to do it today."

"Good," she says. "Let me know when you do, alright?"

"Alright," he replies. "Keep me informed on your father's condition, okay?"

"You know I will," a smile in her voice. "Bye, Clark."

"Bye, Lois," he hangs up. "Now where did I put that card?" muttering under his breath. "Oh yeah," walking over to the bulletin board.

"So how is her father?" his mother asks as she drinks her orange juice.

"He made it through the night," he replies as he pulls off the card that Lois had given him the night before.

"Now who are you calling?" Martha looks at him curiously as he picks up the receiver and dials the number.

"Lois wants me to invite an old boyfriend of hers to the wedding," he tells her as he waits for someone to answer.

"Queen Industries. How may I direct your call?" the operator asks him.

"Oliver Queen, please," Clark answers back.

"Just one moment," the operator says, transferring the call.

"This is Oliver Queen."

"Hello…uh…I'm…calling for Lois Lane and…uh...she's getting married and she would like it if you would come."

There's a long pause before he answers. "Why didn't she call herself?"

"She's in Washington, D.C. right now visiting her sick father," Clark tells him.

"I'm sorry to hear about her father, but there's no way in hell you'll see me at her wedding," Oliver replies in a terse tone.

"Let me come down and talk…talk to you-" Clark stares at the phone in shock when he hears the dial tone. "Animal!" slamming down the phone. "What an animal!" he scowls as he storms out of the room.

Martha just shakes her head as she clears the table.

Clark goes upstairs and changes into his jeans and a blue flannel shirt, then comes back downstairs and walks over to the coat rack.

"Aren't you going to work today?" Martha asks as he puts on his red jacket.

"Mr. White gave Lois and I the day off," he replies as he zips it up. "I have a few errands to run, then I'll go see Mr. Queen so I won't be home for lunch."

"Christmas shopping?" she asks.

"Yeah," he replies as he wraps the red and blue scarf that his mother knitted for him around his neck.

"Don't forget your hat and gloves," Martha holds them out to him as he opens the front door. "It's a little nippy out there today."

"Yes, Mom," rolling his eyes and taking them from her.

"Try not to lose your temper when you talk to Mr. Queen. Alright?"

"I'll try, but I can't make any guarantees," he replies.

"And don't forget your glasses."

"Okay," pulling them out of his pocket and putting them on.

"Don't forget that Jimmy and Chloe will be over for dinner tonight," she reminds him as he puts the hat and gloves on.

"Is there anything else I shouldn't forget?" he asks in an annoyed tone.

"Nope, that's it," she grins widely.

"See you tonight," giving her a peck on the cheek before waving at her as he goes down the front stairs.

Later that afternoon…

After briefly stopping by the house to put the Christmas presents he bought in his room, Clark finally heads for the building that houses the Queen Industries headquarters. Wow! he mutters under his breath as he stares at the imposing structure. Well, here goes nothing, squaring his shoulders and walking through the front doors. He walks up to the reception desk. "I'm here to see Oliver Queen?" he tells the man.

"He left about ten minutes ago," the man tells him regretfully.

"Do you have any idea when he'll be back?"

"No," he replies with a shake of his head. "He usually spends Wednesday and Friday afternoons baking bread at a bakery he co-owns a few blocks away from here."

"He owns a bakery?" Clark looks at her curiously.

"He co-owns it," correcting Clark. "He's a billionaire. He can do whatever the hell he wants," he shrugs his shoulders.

Now that's interesting. "Can you give me the name of the bakery?" Clark asks next.

"Cammareri's," he tells him. "Just make a left and go down about three blocks. It's on the corner. You can't miss it."

"Thank you very much," Clark smiles. "Have a nice day and a Merry Christmas to you," he waves back as he turns around and leaves.

"Merry Christmas to you too," he replies, his eyes lingering on Clark's backside as he walks toward the front doors. No, thank you, a smile on his face as Clark exits the building.

Cammareri's Bakery

Clark walks into the bakery and heads towards the counter. He waits patiently in line as the guy behind the counter slips a long loaf of bread into a paper bag and folds over the edges. "Thanks, Mrs. Fugocci. Here you go," the guy says in a friendly tone as he hands the bread over to her. "Bye. See you tomorrow," smiling at them.

"Thanks, Chrissy. See you tomorrow," Mr. Fugocci replies back with a smile. "Come on honey," leading his wife out of the bakery.

He turns to Clark. "May I help you?"

"Is Oliver Queen here?"

"He's down at the ovens. What do you want?" he asks in a decidedly unfriendly tone.

"I want to talk to him," Clark narrows his eyes.

Chrissy looks Clark up and down with a slight frown. "Follow me," coming from around the counter and walking out the door. Clark follows him as they turn the corner. "This way," walking down the stairs to the basement where the ovens are located. "Ollie," he calls out.

"What?" a voice calls out.

"Someone here to see you," Chrissy calls out to him as one of the women from upstairs comes down to get some bread.

Clark sees a tall, blonde man staring at one of the coal-fired ovens. He's wearing dark black form-fitting jeans streaked with flour and a long, white apron over the white tank top that emphasizes his broad muscular shoulders. The man turns around as he closes the oven door.

Clark feels like he's been hit with a 1.21 gigawat bolt of lightning and staggers backwards slightly when he lays eyes on the most attractive man he's ever seen in his life. His jeans start feeling a little tight in his groin area while his eyes lower to the man's full and provocative lips. When he notices the size of the man's hands, his jeans feel even tighter. He gives himself a mental shake and starts chanting something in his head over and over. Damn it, Clark. Get a grip.

Oliver stares back at Clark in the same way, his eyes sweeping over Clark's body starting with the salt and pepper hair peeking out from beneath the knit hat to the unmistakable sign of a bulge in the front of Clark's jeans. He's definitely gay all right, unconsciously licking his lips. I wonder what he looks like under those ratty old jeans and flannel shirt. And what's with those glasses anyway?

"So…uh…you're the one that Lois is marrying?" Oliver abruptly averts his eyes as he wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his white gloved hand. Why in the hell is he marrying her if he's gay?

"Yeah," Clark quickly answers while inwardly taming down his own naughty thoughts.

"Why are you here again?"

"Because Lois really wants you to be at the wedding," Clark replies as Oliver walks towards him.

He stops a few feet away and folds his arms across his chest. "I told you over the phone that there was no way in hell that I would attend the wedding."

"I don't understand. Why not?" Clark asks with a raised brow.

Oliver looks at him curiously. "She never told you?"

"Tell me what?" Clark looks up at him with confusion etched on his face. "All I know is that the two of you dated for a while years ago. I never knew what broke the two of you up."

"This has nothing to do with what broke us up," Oliver snaps back. "It has to do with this," pulling off one of the gloves and holding his left hand up.

Clark takes a couple steps forward and takes a closer look. "Is that-?"

"A prosthetic," Oliver replies.

"It looks so…so…"

"The word you're looking for is real," Oliver interrupts him. "You'd be surprised by the kind of access I have to the latest in cutting edge technology."

"How did it happen?" Clark asks as Oliver puts the glove back on.

Oliver doesn't answer him at first. There's an uncomfortable silence until he finally speaks up. "Five years ago, I was engaged to be married. I happened to be here when Lois came in and she ordered some bread from me. As I was putting the bread in the slicer, she asked me something and I turned my head. My hand got caught because I wasn't paying attention. The slicer chewed off my hand."

He pauses a moment and fixes his eyes on Clark. "When my fiancé saw that I was maimed, he left me for another man."

Clark stares back at Oliver in astonishment. "That's the extenuating circumstance?"

"I call it 'bad blood,' but if she wants to call it that..." his voice trails off.

"But that's not Lois' fault," Clark says.

"I don't care!" Oliver yells and sweeps a can of flour off the table. "I'm not a f*cking monument to justice! I lost my hand! I lost my groom! Lois has her hand! Lois has her groom! You come in here and you want me to put my heartbreak away and forget?"

Did he say groom? Is that why they broke up in the first place? He looks again at Oliver, his eyes misting up when he sees the pained expression on Oliver's face.

"Is it just a matter of time until a man opens his eyes and gives up his one dream of happiness? Maybe," a sad sigh coming out of him as he turns and slowly walks away.

Chrissy and the other woman watches as Clark goes after Oliver. "This is the most tormented man I have ever known," shaking his head. "I'm in love with this man, but he doesn't know that. I never told him 'cause he can never love anybody since he lost his hand and his guy," wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. The woman next to him briefly touches his shoulder just before he turns around and heads back up the stairs.

Clark catches up with Oliver in the flour room. "Can we just…talk?"

Oliver turns around as he puts on his winter coat. "There's an apartment upstairs," he says as he pushes the outside door open. They stare at each other for a moment before Clark silently walks through the opened doorway. Oliver closes the door behind him and they head up the stairs…

TO BE CONTINUED…