Outing of the Heart (52 page)

Read Outing of the Heart Online

Authors: Lisa Ann Harper

‘Sid. Nice to see you here. You've not been around for a while.'
‘Hi – well, I'm not surprised to see you,' responding in a surly tone. Trent ignored the rebuff and smiling, turned to Tenille.
‘Hi. We met at the ballpark.'
Yes. Tenille remembered this large, striking woman, but the name had escaped her. ‘Hello.' She smiled her greeting.
Trent thought she looked stunning, her arresting face so dramatic in this light and those black eyes, too compelling. Tenille was fresh and soft amongst these hard edged women … the bar regulars. She turned back to Sidonie. ‘I'd like to ask Tenille to dance.' The statement turned into a question by the way she looked at her.
‘Sure. Go ahead,' she replied, unable to halt the inevitable. At least it was a fast one. But she didn't look friendly. Trent spoke again to Tenille.
‘Would you like to dance?'
Tenille was flustered … and flattered. She looked at Sidonie then nodded. They moved onto the small square of parquetry and began to dance to Toni Childs', STOP YOUR FUSSIN.'
Trent wore an open necked shirt, cream, with a fine, dark green stripe running through, tucked into khaki pants. She only wore shorts at the cottage, in front of a few, very old friends. Tenille thought she looked debonair. Sort of part of the old school.
They'd left their entry rather late so the song soon finished.
‘Are you on for one more?' Trent's eyes devoured the delicious womanliness before her and when she wasn't looking, slipped their gaze down to the perfect proportions of her body.
Again Tenille didn't speak but nodded. She wasn't sure how Sidonie would take all this, but conjectured it would be okay, they seemed to know each other well. As luck would have it, Romaine selected I WANNA BE THE ONLY ONE by Eternal, a slower, romantic song. Trent moved forward and took Tenille in her arms and drew her close to her body. She could feel the pressure of Trent's ample bosom against her breasts and her belly against hers. Unfamiliar with slow dancing like this, she felt embarrassed and awkward, constantly getting out of step.
Eventually Trent pulled back and said: ‘It's OK, just relax,' but she maintained some distance between them this time. The beautiful song came to an end at last, much to Tenille's relief, too frazzled to enjoy the words. Trent released her saying: ‘I'll take you back,' then added: ‘Thank you. Perhaps we could do that again, later?'
Feeling less than adequate as a dance partner, Tenille was still too shy to say anything, so she nodded again.
“This woman is going to think I'm a dumb bunny, for sure.”
Back with Sidonie Trent asked how things were going.
‘Oh, just the same,' she replied noncommittally.
‘Did you like the game, Wednesday?' Trent continued, trying to prolong her proximity to Tenille.
‘We're all too out of practise yet,' was her curt response. She wished this woman would butt out. She picked up her beer and looked at the dance floor. Trent got the hint.
‘Well … yes.' She turned to Tenille: ‘Thanks again for the dance,' then moved into the crowd.
Tenille took a few sips from her drink, her face glowing deep red. She struggled to control it as she watched the dancers, feeling disconcerted, but without knowing the reason. They said nothing for a while until Sidonie asked if she wanted to go.
‘No. Why would I want that? We've not been here very long.' She was unsettled.
‘Just checking,' she responded. What she really wanted was to know how it had gone. She had wanted to be the first to dance with her, now that damned Trent had come along and spoiled everything. She scowled at the floor. Tenille observed the dark, impatient profile; the expression grim, and felt sorry for her. There was nothing she could do, it had happened, but she didn't want her to be hurt. She moved closer and put her arm around her waist, leaning her head on her shoulder.
‘I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else,' she assured softly in her ear. The body relaxed and the expression on the face softened. Tenille had such a breathless charm, she turned and gave her a big hug.
‘How's your drink?'
‘It's fine, but I'd like to have a mineral water, if I may. I'm thirsty and I can't just gulp this.'
‘Consider it done.' She moved away then turned back, briefly, to look at Tenille. She knew she would remember, always, how she looked tonight in her white dress, her eyes star-studded.
As Tenille watched Sidonie make her way through the crowd, she saw a bright young thing bounce up to her and give her a big kiss on the lips. She saw Sidonie turn and smile at the girl. It sent a knife thrust through her heart as she watched them move up to the bar and saw her arm go around her waist.
“I suppose she knows lots of women,”
she concluded to her chagrin, adding salt to the wound as she speculated on her rich, full existence before they'd met. There must be many facets of her life in which she played no part. Indeed, was excluded. By the time Sidonie returned she was totally dejected, that closed look back on her face; the eyebrows drawn together and the mouth firmly shut.
“I wonder if someone has said something she didn't like,”
she deduced. ‘Has someone taken liberties?” she asked as she placed the mineral water before her.
‘No. Why would you think that?' Tenille replied and gave a small smile. What a transformation to her countenance. She took the stars from the silver ball and her eyes glistened.
‘Oh – you didn't look too happy and I thought maybe someone had said something to upset you,' she smiled back at her, she looked so desirable. ‘I noticed a free table when I was over there, if you would like to sit.'
‘Yes, thanks.' She picked up her glass and Sidonie collected her beer and the water. Settled at the table, located at the back of the room away from the speakers, it was possible to hear themselves talk, except they both remained silent. At last a good song was being played.
‘Would you like to dance to this?' It was Cher's BELIEVE. They threaded their way to claim a small circle of parquetry as their own. Tenille was more relaxed this time. She could see how fluid were Sidonie's movements. She didn't dance in a sexy, hippie way but made her moves strong and definite, in time with each beat. Nor was she a bouncy dancer. Not being light on her feet, she gave more a feeling of moving over the floor, not leaving it. Tenille found her easy to dance opposite. Her sense of rhythm was perfect. In contrast, she herself tended to move her hips and shoulders a lot more and sway to the music. She enjoyed their varied styles and wouldn't have liked Sidonie to dance the same as she.
The night being advanced, Romaine was playing slower numbers; Brian Adams sang, A NIGHT TO REMEMBER. This time Sidonie moved forward and took Tenille's right hand and gently encircled her waist with her left. She didn't pull her close the way Trent had, but left enough space between them to move easily together, until they had their measure. Keeping the steps small, there was more movement in their torsos than feet. Tenille liked dancing with her so much more than Trent. Now she was able to compare the two, she realized how considerate she was.
As the music took hold, she moved in closer, much to Sidonie's pleasure and she responded by holding her tighter. Their bodies seemed to unite, moving as if they'd danced together for years. Tenille, being the taller, rested her head against Sidonie's soft hair and they danced thus to the end, reluctant to part when it finished. Immediately it was replaced by, LOVE DOESN'T ASK WHY. All the women loved Celine Dion, so they moved back into each other's arms and continued the communion of their bodies, enjoying the sanction to dance together, with others on the floor who felt the same.
It was a wonderful evening. Time passed all too quickly. Last call came, but it didn't mean they had to leave. Management offered coffee to those who stayed on. They returned to their table, Tenille on decidedly shaky legs. Sidonie moved her chair closer and sat with her arm around her shoulders while they drank their drinks and watched other couples slow dancing.
‘I like seeing women dance together,' Tenille remarked.
‘Was this what was bothering you about coming out tonight?'
‘Oh no, not this. The thought of the men looking at us. And I did wonder if I'd see some outrageous sights.'
Sidonie laughed at this. ‘The cross dressers have their own bars. You may see the odd one here, but as people, you know they're usually quite gentle and non-threatening. Anyway, I wouldn't take you to one of those unless you wanted to go. I mostly frequent lesbian bars. I'm really not into parading and posturing,' she added.
‘I guess I have a lot to learn,' Tenille acknowledged.
Sidonie took her hand. ‘Don't worry Babe, it's a new life style to you, I guess. But it's a nice one,' she assured her. ‘Learning new things also makes life more interesting, doesn't it?' she questioned. Tenille looked lovingly at her and Sidonie felt that now was the time to give her the good news. ‘Tenille?'
‘Mm..m'
‘You remember last Wednesday evening …?'
She nodded, watching her closely.
‘Well I've been able to find a place for us … where we can be together alone.' She stopped abruptly, taking a deep breath. Finding this hard going; her face had flushed with the thought of what she was suggesting and her eyes had an extra glitter to them. She was willing Tenille to understand her meaning without spelling it out.
She was not disappointed. Her face lit up in the most positive way. She knew exactly what this meant. Indeed, was very happy.
‘That's wonderful. Can it be soon?' she enquired, eagerly.
‘Not as soon as I would like,' Sidonie asserted. ‘Two friends of mine, Dale and Shaneen, will be visiting people at Muskoka Lakes for the weekend, unfortunately not this coming one but next.' She looked sincerely at Tenille, leaning over to take her hand and kiss it, palm upward. ‘What do you think of that? A whole weekend to ourselves.' Her pleasure turned to consternation as she watched the woman's expression cloud over.
‘What's the matter? What is it?' she enquired, uneasily. Had she had a change of heart now that being together was so close to a reality?
‘Sidonie, I have news for you tonight, too,' she disclosed.
‘Tell me,' she said abruptly, but continued to hold the hand.
Tenille's voice dropped to a whisper. ‘As you know, Raoul has arranged for Los Flamencos to go on tour. I'm to be a part of it.' Her voice trailed away even further. ‘We leave that weekend.' She looked up at the girl now, her big black eyes seemed to reach out – for what? Approval? Patience? She had no way of knowing how she would react.
She sat back, releasing the captive hand and took a long swig of her beer, draining the bottle. Then began a systematic stripping off of the label.
‘How long will you be gone?' she delivered in a flat voice, her fingers still working.
‘Two weeks, I think. Maybe three.' She looked across at the stricken face. ‘Sidonie, it's a wonderful chance for me,' she tried to explain the situation from her viewpoint; persuade her of its merit. ‘It could lead to more bookings. Raoul said …' She was stopped by the fractured look of disappointment she saw before her.
‘Two weeks.' Sidonie repeated, feeling the ground slipping away. At this moment she hated Raoul … and the dancing. She wished Tenille had never gotten involved with him or Devon. As quickly, she knew how irrational she was being; how unfair. She had been looking forward to what she'd come to think of as ‘their weekend' too much. Well, it wasn't to be and she'd better pull herself together and act her age. Making a supreme effort to marshal her coping skills, she looked at Tenille and said, pleasantly: ‘Yes, it's a great opportunity,' and managed a smile. ‘So long as you don't forget me, we can always get together some other time.'
‘Don't be silly. Of course I wouldn't forget you.' Tenille's assurance was impatient. She felt guiltily responsible for bringing Sidonie's elation crashing down; hated to be the one to burst the perfect bubble. This gave a harder edge to her voice than she'd intended, but Sidonie picked up on this, though did not understand the reason. Her response was to suggest they leave.
‘It's getting late.' She stood, expecting Tenille to follow suit, which she did, leaving her drinks undrunk.
Outside in the fresh air, they both took deep breaths. Jasmine scented the wind from nearby Cabbagetown gardens. Walking to the car, Tenille reflected that such a short time ago they were in each other's arms, so close, swept away by the romance of the music and their happiness. Now they were poles apart, not touching; not speaking.
Sidonie drove in silence to McPherson. Tenille was surprised to see so many people still on the streets so late in the night.
“That's Toronto in summer for you. No one wants to go home.”
In the quiet cluster of the old Toronto houses where Tenille lived, all was tranquil and serene. Sidonie pulled up jerkily. ‘I'll get your things.'
Mrs. Sandrelli knew she was back late on a Saturday night, but Tenille had never been this late before. It was now almost three and she hoped everyone would be asleep, her arrival unnoticed. She alighted from the car and took her grip from Sidonie.
‘Shall I see you at the gym tomorrow?' she asked, diffidently.
‘I don't know. I may have to sleep in the afternoon.' Sidonie's reply was delivered in a brittle voice.
‘Oh, I see,' she responded. ‘Well, thank you for a lovely evening. I really liked The Rose and being there with you.' She was trying to bring her round, but there was no lightening of the mood.
‘Well then …' she faltered, ‘ … it's possible I may see you tomorrow at the gym …?' She stopped speaking, but continued standing there.

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