Chapter 8

We were both quiet for a long time on the ride to Smallville. I stared absently out my window and barely noticed as the landscape morphed from city skyline gradually flattening out into lush green landscapes and sprawling farms. I had a feeling that Clark had plenty to say, but didn't know where to start. I felt the same way. I was grateful that we had seen Chloe before I met with the doctor—I'm sure that I wouldn't have been able to keep my distress hidden. And to think, I actually got Clark to agree to keep our relationship a secret awhile. He didn't want to keep us a secret, especially from Chloe. I understood his reasons, but I felt more than a little guilty that we found such happiness together in the middle of the chaos. So he finally agreed that we could keep us a secret a little longer. It didn't matter now what my motives were, our secret would be public soon enough.

At length he spoke, his deep voice breaking into my thoughts; a beacon in the sea of my storm-tossed emotions.

"Lo, you okay over there?"

"Can I let you know in about seven and a half months?"

He took my hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze and cast me a coy smile. I began to think of this as my smile—a smile that he gave only to me. Odd, how comforting that was, how so much tenderness and understanding could pass between us with such simple gestures.

I squeezed his hand in return and then, without warning a tear slid down my cheek. I turned my head and looked out the window, hoping that he wouldn't notice, but it was no use. He pulled over onto a secluded field and killed the ignition. He opened his door and got out of the truck. With the door still open, he motioned for me to follow him.

"C'mon, let's get some fresh air."

I slid across the seat and took his hand, letting him help me down. He pulled me into his arms, wrapping them around me and just held me. I don't know how long we stood there just holding each other. When I was in his arms, I felt safe and protected, like nothing could ever go wrong.

"I never thought I would ever say this," Clark said, "but you're too quiet. Talk to me, tell me what's on your mind."

I hesitated. I didn't know if I could assemble my tumultuous thoughts into coherent sentences. He was patient, and quietly waited for me to find my voice.

"I don't know if I can do this." I whispered into his shoulder. He pulled away from me slightly so that he could look at my face.

"Lois," he took a deep breath, he seemed to be measuring his words carefully. "I know this was unplanned and I understand that getting this news has been upsetting . . . but I can't . . . that is, I don't want you to terminate this pregnancy. If you don't want to raise the baby, I guess I'll understand. But . . . I very much want this. I . . . I'll raise the baby myself. Maybe my mom could help me . . . but I want our baby. Please, I'm begging you. Please, please don't change your mind."

"Oh Clark," I grabbed his face between my hands. How had I given him such a wrong impression? "Clark . . . You misunderstand. I want to keep the baby. I just. . . . It's just that I don't know how to do this. I can't even keep a gold fish or a house plant alive. This is a baby! . . . I'm just so afraid that I'll screw this up." Another tear rolled down my cheeks. He caught it with his thumb.

"Honey, please don't be upset." He kissed my cheeks, kissing my tears away and pulled me to him once again. "I told you before, we're in this together. I won't let you face this alone." I didn't say anything as he rained gentle kisses on my cheeks and nose. "Trust me?"

"Yes, of course. It's just . . . This is huge Clark. This is going change our lives. We're never going back to normal again."

"True."

"Are you sure you are ready for that kind of commitment? We're brand new—and now this."

"I can't think of anyone else I would rather have a baby with."

And that was all the assurance I needed.