Blue Ice Landing

by K A Moll

  Coby yawned, rolling toward her. “Did you have a nice shower?” she asked. Her question was followed by a series of stretching motions and waking sounds.

  “I sure did,” Coy responded, “I’m sorry I woke you.” She held her breath, resolved not to move a muscle until Coby discovered her.

  “That’s okay,” Coby said, rolling toward her. “I don’t think I was asleep more than fifteen minutes or so.”

  ***

  With a scoot, Coby moved closer. It was good to have Coy home for the night. If only she would’ve been able to work up the nerve to do more than just hold her. Maybe by the time Cyrus came home, she would. She draped her arm over, thinking that Coy may have already fallen asleep. If so, that was good. Her bloodshot eyes told the story. Since her daddy’s bypass, she wasn’t getting enough sleep. When her fingertips touched bare belly, her heart stopped. “Oh God,” she croaked, “you’re not wearing a nightgown.”

  “No,” Coy murmured, “I’m not.” She wiggled back, snugging her bottom into Coby’s crotch. It was the position they’d slept in the other night. There was no pressure in the moment. They could fall asleep, just like they were if she wanted. But she didn’t want that; she wanted more.

  “I’m not sure where to start,” Coby whispered into the darkness. She had a slight quiver in her voice.

  “Wherever you want,” Coy answered softly, “or not at all.” She rolled to face her, kissing the tip of her nose.

  Coby met her gaze, saying, “I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you.”

  Coy palmed her cheek, responding, “Honey, you won’t.”

  When Coby nestled in her hair, a hint of jasmine and rose captured her arousal. “Mmmm, you smell so good,” she murmured with her fingertips skating down her abdomen. She nuzzled again, kissing her bare shoulder. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  “Mmmm,” Coy moaned, “I love your touch.”

  Coby lowered down, kissing her and filling her mouth with tongue, before tasting her erect nipples.

  Coy’s hands came into Coby’s hair, feverish and desperate. “Take me,” she begged, “I’m yours.” Her abdominal muscles trembled as Coby’s fingertips danced around her navel.

  “God, I want you,” Coby murmured, kissing her again. She wanted this woman more than anything in the world.

  Coy stroked through Coby’s hair, opening to her. She gently palmed her head to push her lower. “Take me, sweet baby; I’m yours.”

  Coby moved down, nuzzling and kissing her dampened curls. Her scent was intoxicating. With a settling breath, she nestled between her legs, spread her folds, and exposed her.

  Coy whimpered.

  Coby’s blood pumped hot through her veins and she suckled, passionate and hungry.

  Coy writhed beneath her, moaning.

  With two fingers, Coby pressed inside, deep and strong. “God, you’re so wet,” she groaned. She pushed in—and out—and in—and out—over and over, her thrusts in rhythm with the rock of Coy’s pelvis.

  “Ohhhhhh, God… Ohhhhhh, God… Coby Lee…I’m coming,” Coy cried out, stiffening and collapsing, her body limp, weakened in the afterglow of orgasm.

  “I love you,” Coby whispered as she moved to hold her. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too,” Coy responded, her breathing slowing. “And just so you know,” she added tenderly, “you’re a wonderful lover.” She maneuvered her thigh between Coby’s legs, reaching down to touch her.

  Coby gulped in a breath and shook her head slowly.

  Coy pulled back to look into her eyes. “Okay,” she said softly, “there’s no rush.” She fingered through her hair with a light kiss on her lips and forehead. “I’m ready when you are. You just need to let me know.”

  ***

  Coby gently lifted her arm from around Coy, careful not to make a sound. She paused, making sure that she was still asleep. Her breathing was regular, maybe slightly slower, and she wasn’t moving a muscle. She waited for a quiet snore to make her exit, soundlessly opening the door, padding into the hallway, and creeping down the stairs. She opened the liquor cabinet, fingering the bottles, turning each one so that the label faced forward.

  Vodka

  Gin

  Rum

  Scotch

  Cognac brandy

  Tequila

  Bourbon

  Several of the guests were serious drinkers, and the lineup had changed. She tiptoed into the kitchen to stare into the lower shelf of the refrigerator.

  Blue Moon

  Bud

  Michelob

  Corona

  Holly Jolly Christmas Ale

  She selected a Blue Moon, the strongest of her options, and closed the door quietly. Then, she crept into the darkened sitting room.

  ***

  Coy joined her as she twisted off the cap. “I’m sorry,” she whispered with a light touch to her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “You didn’t,” Coby responded. Her chest tightened, and her breathing felt rushed. “It’s me, not you. It’s just me and my demons; that’s all.” She set the ice-cold brew between her legs, twirling it slowly between her fingers.

  “What can I do to help?” Coy asked.

  “I need to go to a meeting,” Coby responded. “There won’t be one this late, but tomorrow, I need to go.”

  “Okay,” Coy cooed, “we’ll get you to one.” She scooted closer and stroked gently through Coby’s hair. “Do you still have the list I printed off for you?”

  Coby nodded, swallowing hard, desperate to maintain composure. “And I think I need to talk to my old sponsor.”

  “Do you know how to reach her?” Coy asked.

  Coby pressed her lips together, nodding. “Yeah,” she answered, “as long as she’s got the same number.”

  “Okay, then let’s hope that she does,” Coy said, moving forward on the sofa, preparing to head back upstairs.

  “Please stay,” Coby responded, laying her hand on her forearm.

  Coy scooted back. “Alright,” she cooed. “I just thought you might like some privacy to make the call.”

  “No,” Coby responded, “I’m not hiding stuff, not anymore.”

  “I’m glad,” Coy said with a thin smile.

  “Besides,” Coby continued, “I’m not gonna call her. It’ll be easier to deal with her disappointment if I don’t have to hear it in her voice.” She lifted her eyes “I want to text her and I kind of need your help.”

  “Just tell me what to type,” Coy said as she swiped the screen of her smartphone.

  Coby leaned forward, her chin resting on the heel of her palm, thoughtful. “Okay,” she said biting down on her lip, “start by typing, ‘Hey, it’s me, Coby…My girlfriend’s texting for me on her phone.’” She nodded, adding, “Hopefully, she’ll still be speaking to me after I let her down so bad. I don’t know if she’ll answer tonight, in the morning, or not at all. I guess I will before long, huh.”

  “You’ve talked about her, but never mentioned her name?” Coy said as she touched ‘send’ on the screen of her phone.

  “It’s Dane,” Coby said with a thin smile. “She’s like twenty years older than me, kind of rough around the edges. She’s a hard woman, but super nice. I think she’d have made a good mom for someone.” She shook her head slowly, her eyes moistening. “I don’t know how I got her to sponsor me,” she continued, “but thank God I did, ‘cause she kicked my butt all the way to sobriety.’” She sucked in a deep breath and released it. “I’m just hoping she can work her magic again.”

  Coy rubbed Coby’s back, their eyes on the screen, until Coby jumped up. “Hey, where you going?” she asked.

  “To the kitchen to pour this out,” Coby responded, sprinting off, sock-foot-quiet. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Hurry, honey,” Coy called out at a whisper. “She’s typing right now.”

  “Oh shit, she is,” Coby responded as she plopped down beside h
er.

  Coy read Dane’s texts aloud.

  Coby read silently.

  “OMG,” Dane texted back, “my prayers have been answered. How are you? Where are you?”

  “Say, ‘I’ve been better. Alabama…for now anyway,’” Coby responded.

  Coy held a breath, choking back tears, as she typed. If not Alabama, where? And dear God, if Coby left, what would she do without her? She couldn’t follow her, at least not now. She owed it to her parents to look after them, if only for a while.

  “Still sober?” Dane asked.

  “Say, ‘Kind of,’” Coby instructed. She swallowed, adding, “Oh shit, here it comes.”

  “Coby,” Dane texted back, “we’ve had this talk before. You can’t stay sober unless you do ALL of the steps. Please let us help you.”

  Coby blew out a breath. “Whew, not as bad as I thought,” she commented. “Say, ‘Gonna go back to AA. Here, I think.’ Say, ‘God, Dane...’” She bit her lip. “Okay, the next one shouldn’t be too bad.”

  “Coby,” Dane typed, “you know I love you. I’d go to hell and back with you, but you have to be willing to do the work. I know you’re wounded, but your wounds can be your greatest assets. But only if you let others in.”

  “Say, ‘I know,’” Coby said, meeting Coy’s eye as she typed, “Say, ‘you said that before. I stayed sober for five years cause of you.’ Say, ‘It’s kind of iffy for me right now.’ Say, ‘I fell off the wagon. Haven’t been back on for that long.’”

  “I’m not surprised,” Dane texted back. “What changed?”

  Coby’s eyes narrowed, and she cocked her head.

  Coy lifted her fingers from the tiny keyboard, waiting.

  “Type, ‘To make me drink or stop again?’” Coby said.

  Coy pressed ‘send.’

  “You drank because that’s what alcoholics do,” Dane texted back. “So, what made you stop?”

  Coby held Coy’s eye as she responded. “Say, ‘Because I’m pretty sure my girlfriend doesn't want to be with a drunk.’”

  Coy pressed her lips together, her eyes teeming with tears, as she typed.

  “But what is it that YOU want?” Dane asked.

  “Say, ‘Not to be a drunk,’ Coby responded. “Say, ‘But when I get stressed or jealous, it fucks me up.’”

  “What do YOU want, Coby?” Dane repeated via text.

  Coby locked gazes with Coy as she told her how to respond. “Tell her, ‘I want to be sober. God, Dane, I just want to be normal. I don't want to be up in the fucking middle of the night touching fucking bottles.’” Coby took a breath, adding, “Here it comes.”

  “Darlin,’” Dane typed, “we’ll never be normal because we’re not wired like everybody else. But you can still lead a wonderful life if that’s what you want. Get your ass to a meeting! Raise your hand! Ask for help and let us help you!”

  Coby nodded, pursing her lips. “Tell her, ‘I’m going tomorrow.’ Tell her, ‘I need help. I thought I didn’t for a while, but now I know I do.’”

  “Please keep in touch,” Dane texted. “And remember what I’ve always told you. We can learn in one of two ways, from fear or from love.”

  “Tell her, ‘I choose love,’” Coby said, leaning in for a soft kiss. “Tell her, ‘I’ll keep in touch’. Tell her, ‘I’ll keep my promise this time.’”

  “I’ m here for you anytime,” Dane texted back, “for anything, even just to talk.”

  “Tell her, ‘Thanks,’” Coby said. “And add, ‘I love you too.’”

  “I’ve missed you,” Dane continued. “You always were my favorite.”

  Coby smiled. “Type, ‘Awww...I’ll bet you say that to all your sponsees.’ Add a smiley face or something cute.”

  “You know me better than that,” Dane responded via text.

  ***

  “I think that’s it,” Coy said.

  “Yeah, she’s done,” Coby responded with a nod. “It was good to talk to her.” She met Coy’s gaze. “You ready to go back up to bed?”

  “Yeah,” Coy answered. Her lower lip quivered, and she looked away.

  Coby touched her arm. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” she asked.

  Coy brushed a tear from her cheek, meeting her gaze. “You didn’t tell me you were leaving,” she choked.

  Coby’s eyebrows squeezed together. “Well, yeah,” she answered. Her mouth hung wide open, and she shook her head. “I’ve been saving what your mama’s been paying me to go back to Chicago.”

  Coy moved for the stairs, crying.

  “Coy, wait up,” Coby called out, not caring if she disturbed guests or not. “I don’t get what’s wrong.” She followed, finding her in their bedroom, lying face down and sobbing. She climbed in over the footboard, crawling up to put her arm around her. “What’d I say?” she asked, her voice lifting much higher than normal. “You know I’ve got stuff there,” she continued with a long breath, “and I gotta figure out what to do about Midnight.”

  Coy flipped over, pressing into her arms, kissing her, over and over, still sobbing. “Oh, honey,” she whimpered, “there’s nothing you need to do about Midnight, other than to bring her home.” She lifted, meeting her gaze. “Why didn’t you say something? We could’ve gone anytime you wanted.”

  “You thought I was planning to leave? To leave you?” Coby asked in disbelief. She pulled her close and kissed her temple. “Oh sweetie,” she murmured, “no, never.” She shook her head, her eyes wide, and her mouth open. “No,” she went on, “I just figured that sooner or later you’d need to be finding a job. I figured this was something I could take care of on my own.”

  “Art invited me to join his practice,” Coy responded, “but I haven’t given him an answer and there’s no rush.” She looked into her eyes. “We have money, darlin’,” she added, “with or without a job. We can go to Chicago to ship your belongings and pick up Midnight anytime you want. I mean after we get daddy home and all.”

  “He invited you to work with him?” Coby exclaimed. “Oh baby, that’s really something!” She stroked through her hair, kissing, and holding her tightly. “You’re so smart,” she choked through a smile. “God, baby, I’m so proud of you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Can’t wait to leave these nasty white walls and florescent lights behind,” Cyrus announced. “And this God awful food too,” he added with a wrinkle of his nose. “Bad enough to gag a maggot.” He thumbed the button on his remote, switching off the TV.

  “It’s gonna be a while,” Marigold reminded, “might want to entertain yourself with a game show or somethin’.”

  “Don’t think so,” Cyrus responded. “I think I’ll just get on up and get ready to go home.” He nodded her way. “Maybe that’ll speed ‘em along.” He gave a wild point toward the far wall. “And that dagum whiteboard,” he added, “with all my dietary restrictions listed in big red print for everybody and their brother to read. Be good to leave that blasted thing hangin’ right on the wall.”

  Marigold caught Coy’s eye with the hint of a smile. “Pretty sure what’s in red’s gonna follow you home,” she said.

  “Most definitely,” Coy commented as her mama pressed the button to lower the hospital bed rail, “but we don’t need to put it on a whiteboard.” She winked, holding his eye. “I’m pretty sure Coby has that list memorized anyway.”

  Marigold leaned down, kissing his cheek. “It’ll be awful nice to have you home, Cyrus Tobias,” she said. “I’ve missed havin’ my husband in our bed.”

  “You ain’t seen our bed more than a couple nights since I been here,” Cyrus responded, holding her eye, and almost smiling.

  “Well I been lookin’ forward to havin’ you there nevertheless,” Marigold said, taking hold of the upper corner of his top sheet. “Come on now,” she added with a gentle tug, “let’s get you dressed. Hopefully, that’ll leave this sour mood behind us.”

  Cyrus grabbed it back, pulling it up to
his neck as his eyes widened. “Our daughter’s right behind you, Mama,” he reminded as his mouth dropped open. “You need to watch yourself.”

  Coy suppressed a smile. “I’ve seen plenty of folks in their hospital gowns,” she said with a soft chuckle, “but just for you, I’ll step out.” She shook her head. “I need to review your discharge orders anyway.”

  “I’m sure that’s true, Coy Annabelle,” Cyrus called out, “but you ain’t seen up your daddy’s, and you’re not gonna, not as long as he’s got anything to say about it.”

  Coy poked her head back in, smiling. “Good to see your piss and vinegar is back to full strength,” she responded. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

  ***

  “So, you’ll continue your cardiac rehab program, pretty much as is from home,” Coy said. “It’s just a plan for structured exercise, some occupational therapy, and of course the dietary restrictions that you love so much.”

  Cyrus pinched his brow. “All of it, the same as here?” he asked, shaking his head. He’d clearly hoped for a reduction of some sort.

  “Yes,” Coy responded kindly. “All of it.” She sat down on the edge of his bed, resting her hand on his leg. “Eating right and regaining physical strength is critical to your recovery,” she said. “Your bypass surgery resolved your blocked arteries, but it didn’t cure what caused them, namely heart disease.” She held his eye. “I want my daddy to be around five years from now,” she continued gently, “and to do that he has to make some drastic changes in his diet and lifestyle.”

  Cyrus nodded, ever so slightly.

  “It won’t be so bad,” Coy added. “Just wait until you taste some of the low-fat, low-sodium entrees that Coby’s created for you.”

  “I’ll bet you’re ready to get out of this place,” the young nurse chirped on her way through the door.