She leaned into Sidonie, feeling the soft warmth of her mouth on hers. She began to caress the back of her neck, running her hand through the short strands at the nape, loving to feel the silky fineness through her fingers. Sidonie pulled away to go through the ritual of collecting the crutches and helping her out. Opening the door for her she heard Mrs. Sandrelli calling out. âIs that you,
Cara
?'
Tenille turned and said quickly, âI'll see you tomorrow. Thank you for a wonderful day,' just as Mrs. Sandrelli appeared.
â
Allo
Sidonie,' she greeted with a warm smile. â
Cara
,' attention turned to Tenille: âYour Mama phoned. Can you call her tonight? She suggested that so you can make the most of the cheaper rates.'
She groaned inwardly. Now what? This must be because she'd left Lindsay without seeing her. Hadn't called since she'd gotten back. An uneasy feeling tugged at her conscience.
âWill you be all right, Ten?' Sidonie enquired anxiously, in an under tone. âI can wait,' she added.
âNo. No Sid. It's okay.' Her reply was more curt than she'd intended, but already the prospect of facing up to her mother was beginning to unnerve her. Turning to Mrs. Sandrelli she thanked her for the message.
âGood night,' said one.
âSee you,' said the other.
Tenille's heart raced as she dialled. She didn't want this conversation. She sighed; it still had to be lived through. How to end a perfect day. Not. She listened to the dial tone. It would be great if her father answered, but she knew he wouldn't. He'd know it was she and leave the call to Doris.
âHello,' came her mother's voice in a remote, imperious tone. She was obviously not prepared to impart friendliness.
âHi Mom. Sorry I didn't call you sooner. How are you?'
Doris didn't bother to answer this, but dove right to the point. âThis situation is not acceptable, Tenille. Your father said you would call and here it is Tuesday night. What is going on?'
âI'm moving out of Mrs. Sandrelli's to a very nice house just north of St. Clair at Oakwood. I'm renting the whole of the first floor. It's an older style, with a good-sized garden in a very respectable â¦'
âI'm not interested in that,' her mother snapped. âAre you with that creature?' Her anger was rising rapidly as they faced off, already with division and disappointment between them.
âMom, her name is Sidonie, as you well know. There's no point in making this a contentious call,' she declared in exasperation. âYou know what I am,' she said defiantly. âYou know with whom I wish to live. Let's not argue over this. Dad thought it best that I leave and give you time to adjust to the situation and â¦.'
âOh, your father.' Doris interrupted dismissively. âHe's always indulged you, since you were little. You have no thought for my feelings.' She was beginning to whine. âHow could you do this to me? After all I've done for you?' Why did she have to be saddled with such a daughter she thought resentfully. One consolation was that it was all happening far away and not here on her doorstep. âYou're not a ⦠a ⦠one of those.' She couldn't bring herself to say the word. âYou've been married.'
âThe biggest mistake of my life,' she stated bitterly. âAnd yes, I am,' she finally admitted. âMom, the word is Lesbian, and it's only a word, not a sentence.'
âIt's disgusting.' Her loathing was palpable. In a rising register she continued. âIt's unnatural and horrible. Don't expect me to visit you. I want nothing of that depraved life style.'
Tenille could feel her face flushing at the stinging words and at her own suppressed anger. Never had she thought she would hear her mother speak to her in such a way. What she and Sidonie felt for each other was beautiful and wonderful. Her mother's words were polluting their love. She felt contaminated, just by listening to them, wanting to stop her ears, but she couldn't hang up: this was her mother talking.
âYour father and I have brought you up to respect and uphold the traditional family values.' Doris was well and truly launched, determined to have her say. âWe did our best to develop in you a high moral character as befits a devoted God-fearing Christian, always teaching by example where we could. Whatever influence we had over you has now been completely undermined in a few short months by that ⦠that ⦠No wonder I hate her.' she spat out vituperatively. Tenille was speechless. What could she say to this? Her mother was being completely irrational. She felt the blood leaving her face.
âYour father and I have lost the daughter we knew. Now you are going to join those weird people who have no sense of right and wrong; dress in outlandish clothes and are probably spaced out on drugs most of the time. Oh yes, I know about them, we've seen them on TV.'
âMom â¦' in despair she stumbled on. Her mother just didn't understand and she could feel the whole fabric of their relationship tearing apart.
But Doris would not be stopped. âI've seen how they get bashed and beaten up. Women and men. Society hates them.' Her voice shook perilously, her throat too tight from an excess of righteous indignation. Despite everything Tenille knew she was experiencing unmitigated hurt. If only she could make her see that it wasn't like this ghastly picture she was painting?
âDecent folk despise them and they will you. You, my own daughter, my own flesh and blood, will become one of these damned souls, victims of their aberrant desires. Oh, it's too much. Doris's moral outrage overwhelmed her. She had reached her limit.
âThat's it. You're no more a daughter of mine. I don't deserve this.' Her voice, high and hysterical, was replaced by a hard-edged anger. What comfort could Tenille give whilst she was in this intractable state? She wouldn't listen to reason. However much she may deny that she and Sidonie were not part of a bizarre, dope crazed fringe. Her ears would not hear it.
âWell?'
Was she beginning to regret the severity of her outburst? What to say?
âHave you nothing to say for yourself?'
Was that a note of entreaty? Perhaps the window had opened a crack.
âMom â¦' she tried again. âCan you understand that Sidonie is a very special person? She means the whole world to me.' This was marvellous. To be able at last to tell her about Sid. Everything would be all right between them. âMom, we need to be together. We want to be together, just like you and dad.'
âIt's not at all like your father and me. Don't say that,' Doris bit back outraged.
She was making a botch of her chance. Try again. âMom. I still maintain the values you and dad taught me. I'm still the same person you raised all those years â¦' She stopped. How could she find the words to explain her feelings for Sid? They overwhelmed her, herself. She would do anything to be with her; would give her life if she had to. In a state of war, she would. She couldn't give her up and she wouldn't be parted from her. There was nothing she wouldn't do. Sid would never ask her to do anything that was morally indefensible either.
âMom, try not to take on so. This isn't such a dreadful thing as you think.' She spoke calmly, trying to placate her, but Doris broke in.
âIt is, it is. How can I face my friends? The people at church? Our family now has to hide this guilty secret.' In her agitation she was dragging her hand jerkily through her permed hair. She continued: âYou will be forcing me to tell lies, to cover up the life you're living. Me. Telling lies.' Her voice rose again to a shrill pitch.
âMom, there's no need for that. I'm just sharing with a friend. You don't have to go into detail,' she proposed, trying to make her see.
Doris rushed on as if she hadn't spoken. âI'd rather you'd gone on the street than this. At least that would be ⦠normal, not ⦠freakish.'
Tenille started to say something in retaliation, but caught herself. âMother, I can't talk to you when you're like this. I'll call you when I've got my new phone number,' resigning herself to defeat on round one. Perhaps next time she'd have more success. âBy then you might feel more at ease with the situation,' she counselled.
âNever. This is the limit.' came back the implacable response. As far as Doris was concerned things couldn't get any worse. Alexander was no help at all; never had been. She should have seen the weakness in him from the beginning. No, she was alone to bear these unbearable burdens. Grief clawed at her and shredded her soul.
âMom, I'll call you after the move. Try to get some sleep.'
âSleep. Hah.' she rejoined, caustically.
These were the last words Tenille heard as her mother slammed down the receiver.
How absolutely awful. She would be lucky to get any rest this night herself. What a cock-up she'd made of it all. Hadn't she known from the start that no good would come of this? Now she attempted to quieten her mind. She had tried to keep her voice down so Mrs. Sandrelli would not hear, but she didn't think she was the type to be a prying eavesdropper; she certainly hoped not. She wanted to leave this house with a better feeling than she'd left her own.
What a relief to sink down onto her bed; take the weight off her fatigued leg and the strain off her tired mind. She felt so utterly drained and exhausted. Hollowed out, but totally. What had started as a perfect day had gone completely downhill. In this miserable state she berated herself for causing her mother such distress. But she had not meant to, it was not done on purpose. The ache in her heart, as she got ready for bed brought her to her lowest ebb.
She thought of Reine and Thea. Such lovely women. They were nothing like what her mother was picturing. It was her mother's ignorance causing the heartache. She only knew stereotypes.
Tenille stopped in her train of thought. Hadn't she herself, been like that at one time? Probably not so bigoted, but certainly influenced by lurid stories in the tabloids. Admit it. There had even been a time when she had denied her own lesbian tendencies. Persuading herself she wasn't like those âothers'. No. She couldn't really blame her mother. It would be up to her to try to help her to see behind the stereotypes, to open her eyes to the real people behind the facades. Yes. She'd come a long way herself, from the naive woman who'd arrived in Toronto, almost a year ago, to begin her life over again: independent of both parents and husband. She climbed into bed and stretched out her limbs.
It had taken her a long time to shed the blinkers. She was glad they had finally come off; however, more through the agency of her heart than intellectual endeavor. If she'd not been given the push by her own emotions, could she not still be mouthing the opinions of the uninformed?
She rolled over onto her side, checking the time. She hoped the night would be a dove and not a hawk. It was getting very late, but still the thoughts continued to roll around, her mind buzzing from this latest encounter. These reflections chastened her and struck a resonant chord. She remembered Reine telling her about Thea's work at the Youth Centre. Perhaps she, too, could do something to help the youngsters? Young people confronted by parental intolerance, and worse, psychological or physical violence. She knew she couldn't counsel, but she might be able to fulfil some other kind of support role. When she finally dropped off, she felt more positive. She would do something to help and she didn't mind in what capacity. She and Thea would talk.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
True to her word, Thea was ringing the doorbell at nine sharp. Tenille had told Mrs. Sandrelli she'd be coming by, so when she opened the door she beamed at Thea, saying: âYou must be Thea, Tenille is expecting you. Go straight through to the stairs. Her door is at the bottom.' Serafina turned, indicating the way to go. Thea thanked her and moved through, the rustle of floral draperies with the accompanying waft of perfume providing quite a heady experience to Serafina's senses.
She knocked lightly and hearing Tenille's invitation went in. She was just collecting last minute items. Going out with Thea she had decided to wear a dress. It seemed to her that she'd been living her life in shorts. The dress was a shirtwaister in pastel yellow with white trim to the collar and cuffs, a white belt at the middle. Her white leather casual didn't look too bad with the cast either; her inevitable shoulder purse; the two crutches and she was ready.
They set off happily and with the worst of the rush hour traffic gone, progress wasn't too slow. âWhere do you want to shop, Ten?'
âI thought The Bay would give me a good selection and possible inspiration. Is that okay?'
âSure, no problem. I'll drop you at the escalator then park.' Thea slowed down for two J-walkers then continued. âThere's public parking on Hayden so it's just a short distance up to Bloor, if you don't mind waiting?'
âOf course not. I really appreciate your helping me like this,' she smiled. Thea waived her hand. âI'm going to use this trip to choose something for Sid from us, too. So you see we'll both make good use of our time.'
She dropped her off, then made a loop round to the parking lot. She didn't enter the shopping complex through the Subway concourse, but stayed above ground to join Tenille at the corner of Bloor and Yonge. They proceeded slowly since pedestrians made no allowances for someone on crutches. Hopping onto the escalator was hazardous too. Thea stood in back, making sure Tenille didn't fall at the top.
âWhat are you looking for?' she asked, as they entered the store.
âI'm not sure, perhaps something in silver?'
âA bracelet or a ring?' she supplied. Tenille didn't reply, giving all her attention to the business of hopping off the escalator. She decided not to use her crutches, her balance on one leg being pretty good. She made it ⦠but only just.