Lois read through her completed work one more time and pressed save. There were probably quite a few spelling and grammar errors, but that's what editors were for. The important thing was that she had investigated and the story sounded good. She leaned back in her chair and took a sip of coffee. She spit it back out because it had gotten cold.
The editor of the Inquisitor walked by her desk. "You finished that story yet?"
"Yes, sir. I'm getting ready to print it out and put it on your desk. Mrs. Claus is divorcing Santa because he's been stepping out on her."
He chuckled. "I know how you like sticking to the truth and telling the whole story, but I hope you didn't mention that it was a department store Santa and his wife."
"I made sure to leave it out," she muttered.
"Good. I'm taking my family out for a Christmas Eve dinner, but I'll be back later tonight to finalize tomorrow's edition. I suggest you go home and enjoy the holiday. You work too hard for a girl your age. You juggle two jobs and a couple of classes. At least try to relax for one day of the year, Miss Lane."
"I will just as soon as I get finished up here."
"You better or I'll chase you out of here with a pitchfork."
Lois waited until he left and pushed print. She took it to his desk and then started to organize her tiny, makeshift desk before she left. As she picked up some papers, she saw her answering machine was blinking with 3 new messages.
The first one was from Chloe. "Hey, Lois. I don't know why I'm asking you for the 15th time this week to come to the Kents' Christmas Eve party, but I am. You need to spend Christmas with your family and in case you didn't know, I'm family, so come spend it at the party with meā¦please?"
The second one was from Martha. "Hi, honey. This is Martha. Why won't you spend Christmas with us? You can come to the party, spend the night, and spend the day with us tomorrow. I hope you know by now that you're family and we want you here. Well, the invitation still stands. Come over any time and don't even bother with calling."
The third one was from Clark. "Hi, Lois. It's Clark. Mom's making me call." There was a pause and it sounded like Martha's voice in the background. "I mean I'm calling of my own free will. Seriously though, it would mean a lot to my mom and me, I guess, if you'd come spend Christmas with us."
Lois erased the messages and recorded a new message. "You've reached Lois Lane's desk. If you have a story or a lead, leave your name and number and I'll get back to you. If this is Chloe, Mrs. Kent, or Clark, I'm sorry but as I've said repeatedly, I'd like to spend Christmas by myself. Have a Merry Christmas and I'll see you when it's not Christmas."
She picked up her pocketbook and got in her car. It wasn't that she was a scrooge or a grinch. She just didn't see what was so important about Christmas and spending it with loved ones. Christmas was just another day and she was going to treat it as such. When she was growing up, Christmas had certainly never been important. Why should it be important now?
When she got to her apartment, she changed into her pajamas and bunny slippers. She made a mug of half coffee and half hot chocolate. 'See, that was a generously Christmas thing to do,' she told herself. She picked up the remote and flipped through the channels. It was nothing but Christmas specials. Frosty, Rudolph, Home Alone, Christmas Story. She flipped the TV back off. That was utterly disgusting. What about the people that didn't celebrate Christmas? What were they supposed to watch?
She must've fallen asleep some time after she set the mug down but suddenly she started awake. She had thought she heard someone say her name, but it must've been her imagination. She stood up and looked at the clock. It said 12 midnight. She figured she should get be getting into bed. She heard, "Lois," clearly that time. It scared her half to death because it sounded just like her mother's voice. It wasn't an agonizing, ghostly moan but a soft and gentle whisper. She fell back down on the couch in fear and shock, when her mother's form materialized in front of her.