Chapter Text
The door to the playroom has been closed for years, remaining firmly locked even when Lena walks by the staircase at the top and her feet itch to move down them.
Even now, as she stops at the top, staring down into the darkness that conceals the door that few people know is there, Lena forgets where she was going and finds herself compelled to walk downstairs.
Everything in there is most likely layered in a blanket of dust several inches high by now, abandoned after Lena’s parents forced her into this marriage and left her with no choice but to hide certain parts of herself. The parts of herself that other people would consider unsavory, the inclinations that she would be judged for, perhaps deemed mentally unwell for having them in the first place.
At least she’d been allowed the compromise of having Jack move into her home instead of being forced to pack her things and move into town. Attempting to hide the playroom would have been impossible from the prying eyes who would arrive under the guise of helping them move.
The outskirts of town are better, less crowded, less people to stick their noses where Lena doesn’t want them. It’s private, and Jack had never questioned the locked door at the bottom of the basement staircase. He’s always much too busy chasing after men half his age, a good father, but a distant husband who wishes for them to share a bed even less than Lena does.
They’d done their duty.
They got married, had the little girl that Lillian had prayed they would have and plaster false smiles on their faces whenever they are in company, but best friends is the most they will ever be.
It could be worse. Lena knows that, is grateful that she isn’t stuck with some ogre who agrees with the life they have been forced into, but she still gets jealous whenever she sees Andrea with her new husband. Jack’s friend, Russell, who Andrea had fallen madly in love with almost a decade ago, their relationship deemed suitable by their parents and allowed to flourish.
They’re happy, childless at Andrea’s insistence—Lena’s friend considered almost a pariah for the choice—and they belong together. Soulmates, Lena would think if she believed in that kind of thing.
“I know you don’t like to discuss what you’re hiding down there, but it seems to me that you are desperate to revisit the secrets.” Lena startles as Jack’s hand gently claps down on her shoulder, doesn’t shrug out from beneath the touch even as her cheeks bear the pinkness of her embarrassment.
“I’ve made many plans for when Elizabeth is spending the summer with my parents,” Jack murmurs. “So, perhaps it is time for you to find some entertainment of your own, hmm? Anything would be better than wandering around the house by yourself all summer, miserable and bored.”
“What makes you think I need entertainment?” Lena turns with a raised brow.
“Why else would you keep the room unless you wish to use it again at some point?” Jack chuckles and shoots her a wink, “you know I don’t judge your more… colorful inklings, love.” He offers her a beaming smile, “you could stay down there for hours now that your parents insisted we invest in electricity. Even if I do not trust these so-called bulbs lighting our home.”
“It’s best to try and move with the times, Jacky.” Lena pats him on the shoulder, “perhaps it will help you keep up with those younger men you have grown so fond of.”
“You may tease all you want, dearest, but at least I am getting some action.” Jack grins boyishly, unfazed by Lena’s snark, “you’re going to have the house all to yourself while I’m gone. It makes more sense to make the most of it, no?”
“Why?” Lena scoffs, “you do not wait for me to be gone before you bring your men home. If I wanted to bring someone here I would not be waiting for you to leave. Perhaps I just don’t wish to do so at all.”
Jack sighs and pats her shoulder again, his eyes glittering in the way they usually do when he is up to something that Lena doesn’t approve of. She wants to question him, but Jack is not known for spilling his secrets so easily, and Lena violently rolls her eyes as he all but skips off to pack for his latest trip.
She moves away from the staircase and heads into the kitchen, busying herself with the chores that they could easily afford to pay someone else to do.
It’s only to irritate her mother that Lena hasn’t hired anyone yet, Lillian disgusted by the sight of someone of their social stature cleaning their own home. Even if Lena does relish the thought of handing the duster over to someone else, she thinks it would be good for Elizabeth to see her parents working as a team. Perhaps they can raise a child who is less entitled than the rest of their family.
As long as Jack’s parents don’t spend the summer dismissing the lessons they have worked hard to teach her, that is.
=
Elizabeth’s exuberance is in stark contrast with her Mother’s sense of foreboding, the young girl positively vibrating with an abundance of energy that can only be triggered by a vacation. Her Father, too, wears a grin so wide that Lena wonders if Jack’s face will crack entirely in half before he can even leave for his own trip.
It’s selfish, of course, to be so disappointed by the happiness around her, but Lena can’t help but feel worse about her own summer as she watches Elizabeth prepare to leave—aware that Jack will not return for at least several days after dropping her off.
He was right, not that Lena will admit it to him, and she will be spending the summer alone, lonely within their lavish home as her husband and daughter enjoy themselves. If her mother visits unexpectedly, Lena will tell her that Jack is merely gone for a few days on a fishing trip, lying to cover up the fact that he has the courage to chase the life he wishes to live.
“You seem to be moping once again, love.”
Jack sidles into view, freshly shaved to avoid a lecture from his parents and dressed in his Sunday best. He’s handsome, a good man, always fun to be around, and Lena wonders what their life could have been if they’d had the good fortune of being able to fall in love with each other.
Lena sighs and hands him a sandwich from the picnic she’d prepared for Jack and Elizabeth to eat on their drive, unwilling to meet his gaze as she cleans the butter knife.
“I’m going to miss Elizabeth,” Lena murmurs. “It’s always strange when she leaves to visit with your parents.” She forces a smile to her lips, “it’s always much too quiet.”
“What about little old me?” Jack places a hand to his heart and feigns a grimace, “will my absence not be felt so deeply?”
“Perhaps you should leave so I can find out.”
“You wound me, dearest. It will take several glasses of whiskey for me to recover from this pain.” Jack grins at her and kisses her cheek, thrilled at the pinched-lip smile he receives in return. “Despite your sour mood, I have gone to great lengths to secure a gift for you before I leave,” he says, bouncing on his heels and clearly very proud of himself.
“Jack,” Lena sighs. “There’s no need. I’m going to be fine . I plan on catching up with some reading and enjoying the peaceful quiet that comes with your absence.”
“That’s just rude,” he chuckles. “But, not as rude as rejecting or returning a gift.” He tilts his head, deploying the puppy dog eyes that Elizabeth had inherited, “would you at least like to see it? I think it’s by far the best thing I have ever purchased for my delightful wife.”
Lena's eyes narrow in suspicion. Jack’s surprises tend to sink faster than the Titanic and leave her with some sort of mess to clean up, but he’ll be gone after this afternoon so perhaps there’s no harm in humoring him this one time.
“Hurry, before Elizabeth comes downstairs.”
Jack walks ahead, his hand gentle as it closes around Lena’s wrist, his eagerness doing little to calm Lena’s suspicion as he leads her into the living room.
There’s a young woman sitting on their couch, a timid little thing who seems terrified to even be there, all hunched over and curled in on herself as she peers up at Lena. Her blue eyes are wide as they give Lena a onceover, but it’s not the insulting kind of scrutiny that she has to deal with from Lillian, more intrigued than judgmental.
“Lena, this is Kara,” Jack grins, eagerly gesturing for Kara to stand. “Kara, this is Lena. This is who you’ll be here to help while I’m gone tending to some business.
Business. Lena almost scoffs, barely fighting off her eyeballs’ urge to violently roll right out of her head. The only business that Jack will be tending to is the kind that Lena prefers not to think about, keeping a few small town bars in business as he blows his way through the lost men he finds along the way. The honesty they’ve worked hard to instill in Elizabeth has been long abandoned by her parents, it seems.
Kara, at least, that’s what Lena thinks Jack had called her, lurches to her feet, standing a few inches taller than Lena. A surprise, considering her church mouse demeanor.
The young woman seems anxious, but she is well mannered enough to push through her nerves and offer Lena her hand to shake. It is only her mother’s harsh lessons as a child that allow Lena to hide her disgust when her palm meets the woman’s clammy, trembling hand.
Lena glances downwards, surprised to see the woman is dressed in pants, something that would quite possibly kill Lillian Luthor if Lena were to ever follow suit. They clearly don’t belong to her, dark brown and a light tight around her thighs, but they go well with the white shirt neatly tucked into them.
A woman dressed in men’s clothing, a sight that Lena never thought she’d see, but one that she soon realizes she doesn’t altogether dislike.
“Kara here is going to help you around the house while I’m gone,” Jack explains, nudging the nervous blonde with his elbow. “She was a little less shy when she was challenging me to an arm wrestle in the bar last night, so I’m sure she’ll pop right out of her shell in no time.” He shoots Kara an encouraging look and jerks his head in Lena’s direction, “don’t worry, Lena doesn’t care much for backchat, anyway.”
“What’s going on here, Jack?” Lena nods politely in Kara’s direction, quietly excusing herself and Jack for a moment as she all but drags her husband into the hallway. “I told you I didn’t want a maid. You know that my mother—”
“She’s not here to be your maid, Lena.” Jack grins coyly, "well, not just your maid."