by K A Moll
“That’s fine,” Diego said as he extended his arm.
Coy palpated, quickly located a large vein, and applied a tourniquet. “Okay,” she said calmly, “a little stick.” She held the needle in line with the vein, and in one smooth motion entered, and had blood flowing.
“I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t told me,” Diego said. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem,” Coy responded as a second tube began to fill. She placed a gauze pad over the puncture site and removed the needle. “Go on and apply some pressure for a couple of minutes,” she added as she labeled the tubes and handed them to Kiley.
“I’ll be right back,” Kiley said.
“I’ll call if I need you,” Coy responded.
“I really do appreciate you coming in to help,” Diego said.
“It’s okay,” Coy responded. “I’m just sorry you had to endure three sticks.”
Diego puffed his chest. “I’m a tough guy,” he said. “You know I can take it.”
“Uh-huh,” Coy said with a glance at his chart. “So, it looks like we saw you this time last year for a health assessment and then again in July for stitches.”
Diego held up his left index finger. “New knife,” he said.
“Ahhh,” Coy responded. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“You got it,” Diego agreed with a shake of his head. “You’d think I’d know how to handle one after fifteen years as a chef.”
“You were probably multi-tasking,” Coy said. “I find that that’s when I make errors.”
“Me too,” Diego said with a quick glance to the closed door. “So is the Doc running late or what?” he asked.
“Ahhh,” Coy responded with a slow smile, “I’ll bet you didn’t know that my last name was Davidson.”
“Well, I’ll be darn,” Diego said as his mouth dropped open.
Coy held his gaze. “You won’t hurt my feelings one bit if you reschedule with one of the male Docs,” Coy said.
Diego shifted his position a couple of times. “I’m good,” he said with a slight pause. “Remember, I’m a tough guy,” he winked. “I can take whatever you have to dish out.”
Coy raised an eyebrow. “I’ll try to keep that in mind,” she said as she positioned her stethoscope on his chest. “Okay, let’s have you take a deep breath…hold it…and let it go.”
“So do you have someone back home?” Diego asked. “I mean someone special?”
Coy paused for eye contact.
“I’m not hitting on you, honest,” Diego promised. “It was just a question. Really. I was just curious.”
“No,” Coy said, adding, “I’m a widow.”
Diego’s brow wrinkled as if puzzled by her response. “I’m sorry,” he offered. “You’re too young to be a widow.”
“Thanks,” Coy said with a thin smile, “but it was a long time ago.” She sensed what he wanted to know, but didn’t tell him. If Coby Lee wanted to know if she was a lesbian, she could ask for herself.
***
With a groan, Coby lifted from her chair to answer the door. “Come in,” she said. She left it standing open for her guest to shut and sat back down.
“I looked for you last night,” Diego greeted. “Thought maybe we’d have a beer and play some cards.”
“I know,” Coby responded.
“I thought so,” Diego said. “You were home and just not answering.” His gaze dropped to the trashcan in the corner. “Either you had company,” he continued, “or right now you have one hell of a hangover; maybe both.”
“No company,” Coby said, “but a hangover from hell.”
Diego sat down with a glance to the small flat screen on the wall. “A Gunsmoke rerun,” he commented. “My grandpa used to love that show.”
“Yeah, my grandpa did too,” Coby chuckled. She had fond memories of the tall, lanky guy with hair the color of her own. In a way, his death marked the point at which her life took a downward roll. “So what have you been up to?” she asked.
Diego lifted his eyebrows a couple of times. “Even if you didn’t ask,” he responded with a chuckle, “I was gonna have to tell you.”
“You have my undivided attention,” Coby said, holding her forehead.
“But maybe I shouldn’t,” Diego teased. “Maybe I should just let you find out for yourself.” He shook his head with a laugh, kind of evil. “You like surprises, don’t you, amiga? Everybody likes surprises.”
“Well I don’t,” Coby responded with pursed lips and direct eye contact, “so you better tell me.”
“You think so, huh,” Diego said with an ornery smile. “Maybe I should just give you a hint,” he continued, “see how smart you are at figuring things out.”
Coby folded her arms. “You better tell me,” she repeated firmly.
“Did you make your clinic appointment?” Diego asked in a playful tone.
“Yes,” Coby answered, “it’s tomorrow morning. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Well, let’s just say that as physicals go,” Diego continued, “you’re gonna really like this one.” He closed his eyes, shook his head, and smiled. “Mmmm,” he added, “because that girlfriend of yours has an unbelievable touch.”
Coby sucked in a breath, nauseous. “I’ll be right back,” she announced with a hard swallow.
***
“Hey, I’m sorry I messed with you,” Diego said as Coby reentered the room. “I didn’t know you were still sick to your stomach.”
“I wasn’t,” Coby admitted, “until you told me what you told me.”
Diego tilted his head. “About Coy working at the clinic?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Coby answered with a nod. She retrieved a scrap of paper from her back pocket. “She’s C.A. Davidson, right?”
“Sí,” Diego responded.
“I can’t do it,” Coby choked, “I just can’t.”
“The health assessment?” Diego asked.
“Yeah,” Coby answered. “What am I gonna do?” she mumbled. “I’m almost out of money.”
“You can’t because you can’t?” Diego clarified. “Or, you can’t because your appointment’s with Coy?” He cocked his head and met her eye. “If that’s the case,” he continued, “just see someone else.” He snapped his fingers. “Bingo, problem solved.”
“Because it’s with Coy,” Coby responded with a slow shake of her head, “but there’s no one else for me to see, at least not until after the holidays.”
“Just walk-in,” Diego responded. “I’ve done it before. All you have to do is wait for them to work you in.” He lifted his shoulders. “It takes a little longer, but that’s all.”
Coby looked up. “It’d be my luck,” she responded, “that they’d put me with Coy.”
“So we’ll figure out when she’s working,” Diego said, “and you can go in when she’s not.”
“It’s not as easy as you think,” Coby sighed. “I mean, how am I supposed to find that out?”
“Don’t worry, amiga,” Diego responded. “Your girl and I got pretty well acquainted this afternoon. I think I can help you out.”
“She’s not my girl,” Coby said.
“Not yet” Diego responded.
“Not ever,” Coby answered. She lifted her eyes. “Please knock it off, man.”
Diego nodded. “Okay,” he said kindly, “for now I will.” With that, he bumped his forehead with his palm. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he added.
“Forgot what?” Coby asked.
“To tell you what I learned about her,” Diego responded with a wink, “unless you don’t want to know.”
“I want to know,” Coby answered.
He shared that Coy was a widow with no one special back home.
Coby sucked in a breath and exhaled. “How’d you find that out?” she asked.
Diego’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “I stuck around between the time she pressed her stetho
scope to my chest right up until she got way too personal down below,” he chuckled.
Coby’s eyes narrowed as she pressed her lips flat.
“Oh, come on,” Diego said. “You’re jealous? Really?” He shook his head. “I assure you, amiga, you don’t need to be. I’d have gladly traded places with you in a split-second.”
“I know,” Coby said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me since I got here. I’m just not thinking straight.” She met his gaze. “So she told you she used to be married?” she asked.
“Sí,” Diego responded. “I tried to get her to be more specific,” he added, “but for the life of me, I couldn’t get the woman to say husband or wife or use a pronoun.”
“That’s okay,” Coby said, “it doesn’t matter anyway.” Her chest ached and she wanted to be alone.
“You’re right,” Diego agreed, “it doesn’t.”
Coby looked up.
“It doesn’t,” he continued, “because in the end, man or woman, love is love.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “If you want her, amiga, you have to let her know.”
“It’s not that simple,” Coby said. “There’s stuff you don’t know about me, stuff I don’t talk about, stuff that would guarantee she wouldn’t want me.”
“I have stuff like that,” Diego responded, “stuff that I thought made me unlovable.” He swallowed, holding her gaze. “Thank God I had enough faith in my wife to tell her so that she could decide for herself.” He rested his palm on the doorknob and looked back, adding, “We just celebrated our twentieth anniversary. If you want her, amiga, you have to let her know.”
Chapter Eight
Coy left work, bundled in her red, down-filled jacket. It was a warm summer day in Antarctica. As she walked toward her building, she noted how many of those she passed hadn’t even bothered to zip up. She also noted, that with very few exceptions, her new world was one of stunted color and muted sounds. Eventually, maybe, hopefully, she’d adjust to its blandness and frigid climate. Once home, she swapped her loose-fitting black jeans for blue ones, snug and worn. She considered changing her sweater but decided that the scooped neck purple one would be fine. She curled a couple of locks of hair and bumped up her make-up with black eyeliner. She was already out the door when she turned back to change her earrings, silver stud to gold dangling. A slow smile crept across her face when she noticed who was in line in front of her. “Well, hey there,” she chirped.
“Hi,” Coby responded. Her eyes took on a sparkle, but there was no pep in her voice.
Coy pursed her lips. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.
“Yeah,” Coby answered, “I’m fine.” She turned back to the dining assistant. “I guess you could give me a scoop of mashed potatoes with white gravy,” she said, “but only a small one.” She spotted Diego on the line and nodded.
“You got it,” the server responded. He handed Coby her plate and looked to Coy.
“I guess I’ll have the salad bar again tonight,” she sighed.
Coby picked up her tray. “Well, it was good seeing you again,” she said.
“You know what, I’m not in the mood to eat alone,” Coy announced. “You mind if I join you?”
“No, not at all,” Coby said, “I’d like that a lot.” She glanced to the far side. “How about last night’s table?” she asked.
“Perfect,” Coy answered with a smile.
***
As Coy tonged a second hard-boiled egg from the container, Diego came up behind her.
“I forgot to ask when you worked,” he blurted out. “You know, in case I need to come in sometime.”
Coy’s eyebrow rose. “Aren’t you full of surprises,” she responded with a suppressed smile. “I could’ve sworn you wished you’d taken my offer to schedule with a male Doc by the time we finished this afternoon.”
Diego shook his head. “Nunca,” he said, “it just took me a little while to get used to you; that’s all.”
“Days,” Coy said, “off at four.” Everyone worked Monday through Saturday at McMurdo. Why didn’t Coby just ask what she wanted to know for herself?
“So, no evening hours?” Diego clarified.
“No,” Coy responded, “at least not at this point.”
***
Coy sidled past several empty tables as she made her way to the one by the window. “Mind if a Packer Backer joins you?” she asked playfully.
“Are you kidding?” Coby responded with a grin. “Of course I don’t mind.” She maneuvered the adjacent chair from under the table.
“Why thank you,” Coy said with a wink and a return smile. As she sat down, she adjusted the scoop of her sweater to display maximum cleavage. When she looked up, inadvertently meeting Coby’s eye, she blushed and smiled. “So,” she blurted out, “McMurdo or South Pole?”
“McMurdo,” Coby mumbled.
For as many times as Coy had told herself that Coby’s departure for the South Pole would return things to normal, her limbs lightened when she learned that she wouldn’t be going. “What do you do?” she asked.
“I’m not sure exactly,” Coby answered with a drop of her eyes. She explained what happened with her job and added, “For the next ten months, I’m probably just a dishwasher.”
Coy exhaled. “No, you’re not,” she said firmly. Their gazes locked. “You’re not just anything, Coby Lee O’Brien.”
When Coby looked away, her eyes were moist.
Coy gently touched her arm. “I mean it,” she cooed.
Coby pushed back in her chair. “Excuse me,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
Coy watched Coby dart into the restroom. When she returned, she inquired as to whether she was alright.
“I’m fine,” Coby said, “just shaking the effects of a hangover; that’s all.”
“If you want,” Coy offered, “you can follow me back to the clinic, and I’ll prescribe something to ease your symptoms.”
“I don’t need anything, but thanks,” Coby responded. “I’m lots better than I was this morning.” She changed the subject awkwardly. “So, you used to be married, huh?” she blurted out.
“I did,” Coy responded quietly, “a lifetime ago.” She folded her hands on the table and met her eye. “Did you have something else you wanted to ask me?” she asked gently.
“There’s no good way to ask it,” Coby mumbled.
“Some questions are like that,” Coy responded, “difficult to ask, but important.”
Their gazes tenderly lingered.
“But if I’m wrong—,” Coby continued.
“You might offend me?” Coy asked. She touched Coby’s hand and smiled warmly. “I assure you that you won’t.” She could make it easy on her or force her to ask for herself. “Go on,” she nudged, “ask me what you want to know.”
“Okay, I will,” Coby said with a nod. “Were you married to a woman or a man?” she blurted out.
“A woman,” Coy answered, “Fergie. She’ll be gone three years, come Sunday.”
“Oh God,” Coby said with a hard swallow, “I’m so sorry.” She knew that she was a widow, but somehow, hearing her say it, knowing that Sunday would be the anniversary of her wife’s death, was awful.
Coy nodded. “Thanks,” she responded.
“Was it an accident?” Coby asked.
“Yes,” Coy answered softly.
“You must miss her a lot,” Coby soothed.
“No,” Coy responded, “actually, not at all.” She took a deep, pained breath, and closed her eyes. “I mean I feel awful sometimes,” she admitted as a tear trickled down her cheek, “awful that—.” She turned away when her words froze.
“Go on,” Coby nudged gently. “Tell me.”
“I can’t,” Coy choked. “It’s not something I’ve ever been able to talk about.”
“Yeah,” Coby said softly, “I get that.” Their eyes met when she reached for her hand. “I’ve got some stuff like
that of my own.”
***
“Did you get in?” Diego asked.
“I did,” Coby said as a broad grin spread across her face. “Slick as a whistle,” she added. “It was super quick, and I didn’t even have to wait.” She handed him proof of her exam. “Reporting for duty, sir,” she said with a mock salute. “Point me toward your stack of dirty dishes, and I’ll wipe ‘em out in an instant.”
Diego laughed. “I’m almost done for tonight,” he said. “How about we hit the gym and you start tomorrow?” An evening workout had become part of their daily routine.
“Okay by me,” Coby said with another smile, so relieved to have made it through the hoop.
Diego glanced at the clock above his head. “Thirty minutes?” he asked.
“Sounds good,” Coby said.
***
Coy stepped onto the pedals of her new favorite fitness machine, the Arc Trainer. How many times had she walked past that row of ellipticals at her old gym, not noticing if one was there? It was the coolest thing. The pedals never scraped the bottom platform, so her run was essentially in mid-air. She connected via Bluetooth so that she could monitor her vitals and caloric burn. Her heartbeat became irregular the moment that Coby came into the room. She hadn’t seen her for three days—three-hours—and ten minutes. Knee-length black basketball shorts and a white sleeveless shirt had never looked so good.
Coby executed a crossover dribble, bouncing the ball between her legs.
Coy licked her lips.
Coby picked up her dribble, took a step one way, and then the other.
Coy caught her breath.
With a jump and muscular arms, Coby made a lay-up. Her t-shirt lifted, exposing a strip of abdominal skin.
Coy’s lips parted and her heart beat with a bang. A relationship was out of the question, but did she ever look good.
Coby captured the ball in mid-air and met her gaze.
