Chapter 11 - November
Of the members of his family, Jonathan was convinced he was the one who had changed the most in the past few years.
Martha had only become more of herself. Stronger, kinder, softer. Lex, in some sense, had done the same, growing into himself, shedding old insecurities and stepping into the light. Clark had grown up, gaining wisdom through hard lessons, some of the same lessons Jonathan himself had to learn—which, perhaps, explained why Clark had needed to learn them, too.
But Jonathan didn't recognize himself in the mirror. His priorities had been all out of order, his values had shifted. He'd faced being wrong, all the way to the point of death, to the point of losing the people he cared about the most, over and over again. And over and over again, he'd been given another chance.
"Dad?"
Jonathan looked up. All eyes were on him. His whole family, around the table, waiting for him. The table was set, and the smells were intoxicating—Martha had outdone herself yet again, and this time, she hadn't bothered with trying to make anything low-sodium or low fat.
"Martha, I thank God for you. Just for being you."
She squeezed his hand, and her eyes sparkled.
"Clark, I thank God for you. You're a hero, son, in every way. You've let me see my reflection in so many ways, but you've grown more than I could have imagined. You have taught me so much, and I am so proud of you."
"Thanks, Dad." Clark grinned.
"And Lex, I never should have made you earn your place at this table. But you did, over and over. You've proven me wrong so many times, and when I thought I was going to die . . . you proved me wrong again. I thank God for you."
There was no smile on Lex's face, but his eyes were fixed on Jonathan's, and Jonathan knew he understood, even if it he was absorbing it in his own way.
"I love you all," Jonathan finished, "and I trust you all."
This had different effects on each of them. Martha merely smiled softly. Clark's eyes widened, his face becoming a bit more solemn. Lex closed his eyes, his head bowing.
Jonathan reached over to the back of Lex's neck, squeezing gently. "Okay there, son?"
Lex nodded, took a deep breath, and straightened up.
Jonathan let go, and he picked up his fork.