Crossroads - Chapter 8

by a campbell

Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, PG-13

____________________

There was always something sad about Sunday afternoons. That particular slant of pale sunlight through the kitchen window and onto the hardwood floor. The end of the weekend and all those possibilities that seemed so infinite early on Friday evening. The start of the uphill trek of the next work week, whether as country wife or as Kansas state senator. Around supper time on Sundays, Martha always had a sense of possibilities forfeited and opportunities missed, and, when the sun sank low in the western sky, she missed Jonathan so much. And the loneliness was about to deepen.

She handed Clark a stack of clean shirts and sighed. "Honey, I really hope this is the right thing for you to do."

Clark’s smile was wistful. He slid the shirts into his already-overstuffed duffel bag and zipped it up. "If it’s not, I can always leave. Don’t worry about me, Mom. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. If anything doesn’t seem right--"

Martha was loathe to say, but couldn’t help but think: her son might imagine it would be easy to leave the Luthor mansion, but Clark had a habit of trusting too easily. Once Lex had him secured…And with Lana already living there--the chances of it ending well were...slim, at best. The situation had the potential for being more than French farce--it could turn into a real tragedy.

She brushed the somber thought away. Whatever she thought was secondary. It’s was Clark’s life, Clark’s destiny, and not her place to dicate, demand, or interfere. Her job was to support her son as much as she possibly could. And pray.

Besides, she reminded herself, even though Clark was far more biddable than most teenagers except when Red Kryptonite was involved, kids historically and universally tended to ignore parental advice.

Clark cast her a wistful glance, as though he could read her thoughts. "I just hate leaving you alone, Mom."

"Nonsense," Martha scolded a little too brightly. "It’s not your responsibility to take care of me. Besides, I have too much keeping me busy as a senator to spend time feeling sorry for myself. It will even be kind of nice to know you’re not rattling around her by yourself while I’m off being political." She stepped closer to Clark, laid a hand on his arm, and squeezed with a valiant smile. "No more guilt, Sweetheart, for either of us. Or doubts. We’ll just move forward."

"Thanks, Mom."

"But just remember: when you need me, I’ll be here."

Clark nodded soberly, then perked up at the light rap at the kitchen door. Martha saw him look over her shoulder, lips curving into a smile as a light came into his eyes.

Martha turned briskly and opened the door to Lex.

"Mrs. Kent." Lex, as always, offered his hand, which Martha took in both of hers.

"I was on my way back from delivering Lana back to Metropolis, and thought it would be a good idea to to get Clark in and settled before dark." He glanced down at Clark’s already-packed bag. "You’re not bringing much."

"There’s the stuff on the table, too," Clark hastened to add. "I’m...uh...kind of outgrowing most of my clothes. I’ll need more." He looked away, scarlet rising to his cheekbones.

Lex smothered a chuckle. "Not a problem." He scanned the random assortment of cardboard boxes on the oak table and glanced at his watch. "Ready, then?"

"I’m ready. Here, Lex," Clark picked up a dog-eared box from the table and pushed it at Lex. "You carry the GameCube and the games." Shelby padded up, and he bent to stroke her fur. "Bye, girl."

The dog snorted and pawed at the floor, then covered Clark’s face with slobbery licks. Clark laughed, pulled away, and stood up.

"Stay in touch, Honey," Martha begged. "Call me." Clark grabbed his duffel bag from the floor and shouldered it, then turned to give his mother a hug.

"I will, Mom. Promise."

Clark was first out the door. Lex, following close behind, paused and turned back to Martha as Clark bounded down the porch steps into the spring dusk.

"Don’t worry, Mrs. Kent. I’ll take care of him. He’s in good hands."

Martha hesitated, then nodded. "I hope he is, Lex. But telling me not to worry is wasted breath. It’s what mothers do."

She lifted the curtain on the door, watched them walk to the car and get in, swallowing hard as Lex revved the engine. She waved, and kept waving until the car reached Hickory Lane and turned right to head off to the mansion.

Martha let the curtain drop, and, as her hand dropped slowly to her side, felt the stiff smile fade from her face.

God, keep him safe, please, she prayed silently.

The roar of the Ferrari died off in the distance. Alone in the farmhouse as the sun dipped below the woods on the western horizon and the golden light faded, Martha wept.

_________________

Feedback is welcome at amoss53@yahoo.com

Return to homepage