by K A Moll
“What about your brother?” Coy asked gently. “He’s younger, right?”
“Yeah,” Coby answered, pressing her lips together, “by five years.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t have any idea where to look for him.” When the cab came to a halt outside the front door of their hotel, they got out. Coby piled Coy’s treasures onto a cart, pulled them onto the elevator, and then moved them to the other queen sized bed. When she finished, she looked up. “Sit down with me for a few minutes,” she requested softly, “I want to tell you a couple things.” They settled onto the small sofa near the door, sitting quietly. “I don’t know how this is gonna go,” she began, “because I’ve never really talked about it with anyone, not even Dane.” Her voice lowered, trembling. “I guess I’ll just start by blurting it out and we’ll see.” She took a breath. “He took pictures of me from the time I was twelve until I was seventeen,” she said. “He didn’t force me or anything.” She shook her head, meeting her gaze. “I let him.”
Coy touched her shoulder.
“He said he wanted to take ‘em cause I was beautiful,” Coby continued, “Said it was so he could show his friends just how beautiful I was.” She shook her head. “What a bunch of malarkey he fed me,” she muttered. “I wasn’t beautiful; I was a freak.”
Coy’s eyes teemed with tears. “You’re not a freak,” she choked.
“When I found out that he was selling the pictures to perverts just like him on the Internet,” she continued, “I told him he had to stop.” She resumed shaking her head. “He slapped me and I let him continue.”
“Oh, baby,” Coy responded, holding her close, “I’m so sorry.”
Coby swallowed hard, continuing. “It wasn’t until that night, the one I told you about, the one when Tameka came up to my room, and the one that got me beat senseless. It wasn’t until that night that it all came to a head.” She took a breath and exhaled. “God,” she muttered, “I don’t know why she got that upset. I mean I know I looked gross, but she knew me. She knew I wouldn’t hurt her. Dear God…I wouldn’t have forced myself on her for anything. I think maybe it was because she thought I was part boy or something and it scared her.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “So anyway, when she ran out crying, she ran right past my mom and the pervert.” Their gazes met as she took her next breath. “My stepdad stormed up the stairs and into my room. My mom came in right behind him.” She shook her head. “And I could see it in his eyes,” she went on. “And hers.” She clenched her jaw and her fists. “He was jealous. The sick bastard was jealous of my sixteen-year-old girlfriend. And my mom, the one who was supposed to make sure I was safe…” Her words broke. “Dear God, she knew everything. She knew and didn’t lift a finger to stop him; not one finger did she lift to protect me. It was like I was their little fuckin’ family business.” She sucked in a deep breath, desperate to stifle an insistent sob. “I was so mad, so fucking mad that I ran out crying. I ran, bawling, all the way down the street, around the corner, and into the police station. I told ‘em everything. When they took his computer, they got it all. Child protective services showed up that night, and placed my brother and me in foster care. I let ‘em keep me until I testified, and then I took off. That was the last time I saw Mason.” She swallowed, her eyes moist when she met Coy’s gaze. “I heard he got adopted by some people downstate. I heard they changed his name.” She shook her head. “But I don’t know; you can’t always believe what you hear on the street. Sometimes people will just say stuff to be mean. Anyway, long story short, my testimony, plus all the pictures they found on the Internet and his computer, was enough to get my mom and the pervert sent to prison.
“Oh sweet baby, I’m so sorry,” Coy cooed, stroking through her hair and holding her close.
“Like I said, it’s okay,” Coby choked. “I was a mess for a long time, but I’m better now.” Their eyes met in a gentle kiss. “I’m so much better…since you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Four cabs had passed before one pulled over. Coy wrinkled her nose as they slid in behind the driver. The seats were worn, the floor mats filthy, and gum and candy wrappers were strewn all over.
“You want to wait for the next one?” Coby asked.
“No,” Coy responded, “for us to have time for a drive through your old neighborhood, we need to go now.” She brushed down her navy skirt, checking to be sure that she was sitting on one of the few clean spots. “It’s fine,” she added, “I shouldn’t have dressed up so much.”
Coby leaned forward as the meter ticked on the dashboard. “You know where the Fellowship Hall is, the one on South Halsted?
“Sí,” the dark-haired man responded. “Are you in a hurry, amiga?” he asked in broken English. He reminded her of Diego. She missed her friend and resolved to call him.
“Yeah, we kind of are,” Coby responded, knowing that they were in for a quick ride.
Coy handed the driver an extra twenty when they got out. “So it’s in the basement?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Coby answered, “it’s a nice big room.” She smiled, taking in Coy—her skirt and matching jacket, her white blouse with ruffles, and her shiny black pumps. She would be the only one in attendance wearing a three-hundred dollar outfit, and the only one who looked like a million bucks. The chairs were arranged in a circle, and they hung their jackets on the back of two, side by side.
“So, do you expect to know anyone,” Coy asked, “I mean other than Dane?
“Yeah, maybe,” Coby said, “I haven’t attended a meeting here for years, but this was my home group.”
Coy rubbed her neck, a habit when she was stressed or nervous.
“If I do see anyone I know,” Coby said, “I can’t wait for them to meet you.”
“Do you think I’m over-dressed?” Coy asked.
“No,” Coby responded, “people come dressed however they want to.” She smiled at her. “I think you’re beautiful.”
***
Coby caught her eye the second she entered the room. She’d been watching for her. Her expression was hard, like the path she’d walked through life. She had the reputation of being the toughest sponsor in the group, a genuine hard-ass, and she liked it. She didn’t let many get close enough to know her, but those who did knew that inside her hard exterior was a spongy-sweet marshmallow. You’d be hard-pressed to find a person as kind and loving as she was, a person who’d take the shirt right off her back and give it to you. Coby knew that from first-hand experience. She was also a person who you’d never, no not ever, would want to lie to or cross, one of those people who could kick your ass so hard that you knew it. Coby knew that from first-hand experience too. Her face still looked young from a distance, but up close she looked every one of her fifty-one years.
Coby turned to Coy as she stood. “Come on, sweetie,” she said, taking her by the hand, “I want you to meet Dane.” With that, they were on their way across the room. “Oh my God,” she greeted, extending her hand, “it’s so damn good to see you. They shook, hugged, and then hugged again.
“So you’re going to meetings now?” Dane confirmed.
“Yeah,” Coby said, nodding, “three times a week.”
“And it’s a good group?” Dane continued, holding her eye firmly.
“Yeah,” Coby answered, “it is. But I haven’t found anyone like you, no one I’d want to sponsor me, at least not yet.”
“S’pose I’ll have to do it from here then,” Dane answered, almost smiling. “It’ll be hard with that kind of distance, but don’t you worry, I’ll manage.”
“I’m sure you will,” Coby responded with a quiet chuckle. “I was hoping you’d say you would.”
“You had a doubt?” Dane asked, deadly serious.
“No, I guess not,” Coby answered, looking to Coy. “Where are my manners?” she asked, nodding to Dane and taking Coy’s hand. “Dane, meet my girlfriend.” She smiled, meeting her eye. “This is Coy.”
Da
ne pulled Coy in for a hug saying she was glad to meet her in person and adding, “You’re good for her, I can tell.”
Coy smiled, glancing to Coby with twinkling eyes. “We’re good for each other,” she said.
“Even better,” Dane responded, looking over as people were beginning to take their seats. “S’pose it’s about time we head on over and sit down.”
***
Dane made her way to sit across from Coby and Coy. She opened her satchel, digging out what she needed to open the meeting. Then, she read from chapter five of the AA Big Book. “Alcoholics Anonymous is a fellowship of men and women who share their experience, strength and hope with each other that they may solve their common problem and help others to recover from alcoholism. The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking. There are no dues or fees for AA membership; we are self-supporting through our own contributions.” She looked up, asking for volunteers to read the twelve steps and twelve traditions.
Coby raised her hand.
Coy glanced over, her expression telling of the fact that she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“Coby?” Dane asked, lifting an eyebrow. “You want to read?”
“Yeah,” Coby answered. She opened her AA Big Book and stood. “My name is Coby and I’m an alcoholic. I used to come here, but now I go in Alabama. Step one,” she read, “We admitted we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable.”
Coy rested her hand on Coby’s thigh when she sat down. Their gazes met and she smiled. When visitors were asked to introduce themselves, she introduced herself as ‘Coy.’
Coby looked up when a newcomer made her way through the entrance. They held one another’s gaze as the shapely woman looked for a vacant seat. Finding one on the opposite side of the circle, she sat down.
Coy looked to Coby, to the biracial woman about her age, and then back to Coby.
Coby tugged at the neck of her lightweight hoodie, looking away and back, away and back.
The woman bit her lower lip, doing the same.
When Coy glanced up, she caught Dane’s eye, noticing that she too had a keen interest in the unfolding set of circumstances.
Coby sucked in a breath, still twisting and tugging at her clothing.
Coy leaned into her, again resting her hand on her leg. “Tameka, I assume,” she whispered. “She’s pretty.”
Coby swallowed, nodding slowly. She raised her hand without making eye contact. When Dane called on her, she volunteered to read The Promises. “…We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace…” As she sat back down, she glanced over to Tameka, and then off again. At the close of the meeting, all were asked to join hands and recite the Serenity Prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr together. She held Coy’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference…”
Coy stood, meeting Coby’s gaze. “You should talk to her,” she encouraged. “She’s clearly waiting, hoping to talk with you.”
“I don’t know,” Coby responded, looking down to her shuffling feet. She swallowed again, adding, “Not unless you come with me.”
“Of course I’ll come with you,” Coy said. “Go on, honey, lead the way.”
***
Coby took Coy’s hand, gently pulling her toward Tameka.
“Hey Cobester,” Tameka greeted with a smile. “Long time, no see.”
“Hey, Meka,” Coby responded. She was undecided as to whether or not to gather her in for a hug. In the end, she did. It was stiff and a little awkward. She looked to Coy and made introductions.
Coy tilted her head, just slightly, smiled, and took the woman’s hand. “Coby Lee has spoken of you,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to finally put a face with your name.” They locked gazes for a long, uncomfortable moment before she turned to Coby. With a squeeze around Coby’s middle and an unexpected kiss on her lips, she excused herself, saying, “Be right back darlin’. I need to visit the lady’s room before we go.”
“Okay,” Coby responded, raising an eyebrow. “You know where you’re going?”
“I sure do,” Coy said, knee deep in drawl. “I saw the sign when we came in the door.”
With Coy out of earshot, Tameka spoke up. “She’s pretty,” she said quietly.
“Yes, she is,” Coby responded, shaking her head with a soft chuckle.
“What?” Tameka asked. “What are you laughing about?”
“Oh it just hit me; that’s all,” Coby answered. “That’s the same thing she said about you.” It was an odd situation to find oneself.
“Looks like you did well,” Tameka said.
“Yeah,” Coby responded, “better than I deserve.”
Silence.
Tameka spoke up. “I looked for you…afterward,” she said, “but you were gone.”
Coby swallowed, breaking eye contact.
“It was that night,” Tameka continued, “but a police car was in your driveway and I was afraid to knock.” She shook her head, adding, “I’m so sorry about how things worked out.”
“It’s okay,” Coby answered. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I heard you got taken,” Tameka continued, “put in foster care.”
“Yeah,” Coby responded, “and my brother too.” She reached out to Coy as she joined them.
“I know,” Tameka said. “I see him once in a while,” she added. “He always asks if I’ve heard from you and I always tell him no.”
Coby cocked her head, her mouth dropping open. “He’s still around?” she asked. “Do you know where he lives?”
Tameka shook her head. “No,” she answered, “but he’s always on foot so it must be kind of close.”
Coy caught Coby’s eye as she reached into her purse.
“Yeah, go ahead,” Coby responded, almost inaudibly. Then she met Tameka’s eye. “Coy’s gonna jot down our address and phone number on the back of her old business card. If you see Mason, I’d really appreciate it if you’d let him know how he can find me.”
“Yeah, I will,” Tameka promised, sliding the card into her pocket.
“Thanks,” Coby said, her gaze lingering for a moment. “Good to see you again,” she added as she threaded her fingers through Coy’s.
“Yeah, you too,” Tameka responded.
***
“I enjoyed meeting your friends,” Coy said as she turned back the covers, “especially Tameka.”
“Was she what you expected?” Coby asked, climbing under.
“In some ways, yes,” Coy said, “and in some ways, no.”
“What do you mean?” Coby asked, meeting her eye.
“I mean I expected her to be beautiful and feminine, but not necessarily soft-spoken and kind.” She shook her head with a thin smile. “I’m glad I didn’t know that we’d see her or I would’ve been as nervous as a mouse with its tail in a trap.”
Coby rolled toward her, propping onto an elbow to meet her eye. “No way,” she responded. “Why would you have been nervous? You have her beat in looks and everything else, hands down.”
“I would’ve been nervous, darlin’,” Coy answered, “because she was your first love.”
“No, sweetie,” Coby countered, “she wasn’t.” She shook her head slowly as their gazes locked. “I was attracted to her,” she continued, “enough that I would’ve slept with her at the drop of a hat, enough that it crushed me when she was grossed out, but I didn’t love her.” Her head continued to shake as her mouth opened. “God, back then,” she went on, “I didn’t even know what love was.” She took a soft breath as she palmed Coy’s cheek. “But I do now,” she cooed. “It’s you baby, just you. You’re my one and only love.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Oh shit,” Coby exclaimed, “they’re already here.”
�
�That’s a good thing, honey,” Coy responded with a kiss on her cheek. “Being on time is a good thing. It means those of us who expect it aren’t left frustrated.”
“Ha!” Coby responded. “Very funny.” She swatted Coy’s butt cheek. “You know what I meant.”
“Ooooo,” Coy squealed, “aren’t we frisky this morning.”
“What can I say? Moving brings out the best in me,” Coby responded.
“I can see that,” Coy said, nodding toward the second driveway. “But don’t you fret,” she added with a wink, “daddy’s all over it. See, he’s over there right now moving that ol’ van out of your way.”
“That’s good,” Coby said with a deep breath, crossing and uncrossing her arms. She exhaled as the moving truck beeped its way backward into the driveway.
“This’ll all turn out okay,” Coy assured, reaching over to gently rub her back.
“I know, you’ve told me,” Coby said as she met her gaze. “It’s just that I’ve never done it this way before. I’m used to packing and moving myself, down a couple blocks or whatever, but never cross-country.”
“It’ll be fine, I tell ya,” Coy said. “You’re not bringing that much.” Her eyes widened. “Oh my God,” she blurted out with a gasp, “I don’t think we closed our bedroom door.”
Coby shook her head slowly, smiling. “Midnight’s not gonna eat Kathy Bird,” she said. “If anything, I should be worried that that bird of yours might peck my cat’s eyes out.”
“I’ll be right back,” Coy called out, already on the move, “I’ve gotta go shut our door.”
***
By noon, the movers were gone, unpacking was in progress, and lunch was in the making. “Taste this,” Coby said, holding out a spoon.
“Mmm, looks good,” Coy responded, taking the utensil. “What is it?”
