âDon't listen to her my dear, she's jumped up.'
âThat's the second time tonight I've been told not to pay attention to Sid. She must be bad news,' she observed, diverted.
Sidonie, smiling, approached Tenille and put her arms round her waist where she sat on the stool. She leaned into her and said in a stage whisper: âThey know not of what they speak,' and gave her a proprietorial squeeze.
âOK you two,' and Thea meant Sidonie and Reine, âI want you out of my kitchen. Make yourselves useful. Set the table and leave us to talk.'
â0kâay,' Sidonie held up her hands in mock defeat. âWe know when we're not wanted â¦' she turned to Reine, â ⦠don't we good Buddy?' They took off, leaving them to get down to some serious discussion. Thea, especially, wanted time to explain about the counselling centre. She knew she couldn't talk business when they were all together.
âYou remember, Ten, last time you said you were interested in my work with the youth groups and that you fancied to do something along those lines?' she reminded her.
She nodded. âYes, and I still am.'
âGood. Well, I've heard via the grapevine that the Counselling Centre for Lesbians and Gays is looking for a receptionist. I straight away thought of you.'
âBut I know nothing of reception work,' Tenille protested.
âNot a problem. You would be instructed in your duties. And anyway, you wouldn't be doing the job alone. There's always two on the desk,' she clarified. âNo, what they are looking for is a bright and reliable Lesbian. Someone with good interpersonal skills. I'd like to suggest you go for an interview. See if you like their set up too,' she concluded. She had just added the last of the herbs to her stir fry, so she held out the spoon for Tenille to taste the sauce.
âMm..m delicious. What a good cook you are Thea. Can turn your hand to anything,' she admired, deference in her voice.
âOh, it's just experience, my dear. I've been doing it for so long.'
âWhat's with you and Reine tonight, harping on age?' she enquired, in puzzlement. âIs it because of Sid's birthday, Saturday?'
âNo, nothing like that. It's coming up to our 23rd anniversary next week and we've been doing a bit of reminiscing. It's made us realize how we are, in fact, âgetting on'.'
âYour 23rd,' she exclaimed. âOh how I'd love to be able to say that.' She looked at Thea enviously.
âDon't wish them away, Tenille. Years pass only too quickly. Just make the most of each moment as it comes,' she advised. âI know this is easier said than done.' She sighed: âWhen you're young, emotions can get so much in the way. Often you waste precious time in useless, even destructive argument. Reine and I have gotten passed that. I hope we can value the time we spend together.' She stopped to look at Tenille. âWell, if after 23 years we still haven't got the mix right, then we must be awfully unobservant.'
Tenille picked up her glass, remaining attentive. Thea returned to her cooking and continued, still in philosophical vein. âAlso, as you get older, you get to know what you really like and how you like it. Consequently there's less margin for error and, therefore, it is to be hoped ⦠disappointment.' She sighed again. âUnfortunately the trade off is, there's less excitement too.' She smiled wistfully at the younger woman. âYou youngsters are probably on a roller-coaster ride of emotions.' Tenille nodded in agreement. Thea frowned. âBut I'm not sure I'd want that back. Maybe sometimes,' she amended, as she transferred the veggies to a serving dish and popped them in the oven with her pork kebabs. Tenille, glimpsing the rows of skewers, felt her mouth begin to water. âThe main thing is ⦠enjoy as much as you can. Time never runs backwards,' she finished, experiencing a momentary sadness, swift and fierce as a flying dart. She left, leaving Tenille wondering what that was all about? Yet more to digest when she had a quiet moment. On her return she told Tenille the places were set. âChoose any seat,' she advised.
Sidonie was coming in as she emerged from the kitchen, Reine in tow, ready to collect the steaming food. Once seated, she gave Tenille's hand a little squeeze, then observed: âEverything looks so good, Thea, and smells delicious.' They tucked in with a will, thoroughly enjoying the food, the company and the easy conversation.
The hot topic was the impact of Feminism in today's world. Sidonie was all for it, being an ardent supporter at all the rallies and marches. She recalled the heady buzz of excitement, the feeling of solidarity had given them, that day of the âTake Back The Night' march. She felt the feminists had accomplished much since their early days, and definitely the lesbian contribution had been of great value.
âI remember when the straights were so against us,' Reine recalled.
â
Lesbian was a dirty word in those days. The women thought they were each going to fall victim to some artful lesbian wiles. As if they were worth looking at twice,' she scoffed. âOur taste was far too discerning for that.' she declared vehemently.
âThat's all well and good,' Thea acknowledged: âI agree that women today have moved further into the man's world. My question is, at what cost?'
Tenille was enjoying this lively exchange, but needed to interject for clarification.
âWell, think of this,' declaimed Thea. âToday, women have the freedom to come and go as they please. In times gone by, the twenties and the thirties even, women were to be escorted. They were protected from assault, from harm. Today, they take not only their virginity, but in some cases, their life in their hands. And what is society's attitude toward this?' She looked around the table at their intent faces. It wasn't often one heard a Lesbian criticizing the feminist movement.
âDo they say: “It's a disgrace that men have so little respect for women” or: “Men shouldn't give way so easily to the dictates of their gonads”? Or do they say: “It's the woman's fault. Either she shouldn't have been there or, she was asking for it.” Whichever way you look at it, it's her fault.' There were slow nods of agreement to this assertion.
âBut wouldn't you rather be able to do the things you do now, Sweetie?' Reine asked, âthan return to the dependence of a patriarchal society.'
âYes, indeed I would,' she responded with asperity. âBut ⦠why does a feminist society have to lose all that women had before? It's as though men have said: “Yes, you can have equality, but don't expect us to treat you like we did.” No more door opening: offering of seats: swearing and gross behavior must be tolerated. Men still call the shots. We're still not looked upon as equals and, to add insult to injury, we've lost the respect we had as the weaker sex. I'm not sure we're living in a better world,' she concluded. They all continued their meal in silence for a while, pondering the debate, then a new topic was launched â about the time Melissa Etheridge and her ex-lover, Julie had created that stir in the lesbian community. Reine fetched the controversial photograph which Thea had cut out of the paper.
âI like it,' Tenille was positive.
âMe too,' Sidonie agreed. âIn fact I think it's very tasteful.'
âIt has successfully drawn attention to the plight of fur-bearing animals,' Thea announced.
âMelissa was always a strong one,' Reine observed. âI for one, admire her for it.'
The evening wound up early. As they stood on the threshold saying their goodbyes, Thea reminded Tenille to give her a call regarding the interview.
âI'll set it up for a time that suits you, then I'll take you over. How soon do you expect the phone?'
âIt should be some time Monday or Tuesday,' Sidonie informed her. âAny last minute things you need a hand with, Sid?' Reine enquired. âReady to be of service.'
âNo thanks, Reine, we've everything under control ⦠I think.'
âWe're going to look for some bedroom furniture tomorrow and we'll get the store to deliver,' Tenille elaborated. She had managed to leave her purse across the back of the dining chair and fortunately, Sidonie had not remarked it's absence.
The evening remained mild after a light summer rain and for a change, the air smelled fresh and clean; the roads glistening in the intervals of light shed by the lamps. It was a dreamy night, and after their visit, they felt in mellow mood. Good times with good friends. Hard to beat. Before Sidonie dropped Tenille off, they organized themselves for Friday. She knew of a few second hand stores along Queen Street West, fairly close to each other. She pulled up to the curb and cut the engine.
âHow did you enjoy the evening?' she asked, putting an arm round Tenille's shoulders. Tenille kissed the end of her nose as she told her she'd had a dreadful time. âWhat was that about an interview ⦠are you thinking of changing jobs?' There was a note of concern in her voice. With this new rental undertaking they couldn't afford to risk only one income, if she lost it.
âNo Honey, relax.' She rested her head on Sid's shoulder. âThea thinks I'd make a good receptionist at a counselling centre. She suggested I go along with her to see what it's all about.' She looked dubious. âBut I don't know if I'm cut out for that type of work. I do like the idea of volunteering to a worthwhile cause.' She settled in a little closer. Sid was stroking her thigh over her skirt. She was wishing her hand could be underneath. Soon now, she'd have everything her heart and body desired.
âOh darling,' Ten sighed, as she turned her face to her love, a slight quaver in her voice. Her imaginings had made her hot and her longing had made her weak. She was aware of Sid's immediacy, her breathing soft, her presence strong.
âI know, Babe,' she murmured into her tousled tresses, as she fully embraced her. Then she kissed her hard on those red-brown lips, their bodies fusing in mutual desire. Her voice thickened as she tried to speak. She felt a dark pulse throbbing deep inside her. Suddenly she was so hot.
âI want us to be together as much as you, darling,' she breathed, huskily. âI know how hard it is to wait.' She let her mouth work against Ten's so her lips opened and at last her tongue tasted her. Every nerve in her body felt stretched. She let her hand rise up toward the soft, round swell of Ten's belly, just above her thighs. As Ten felt the heat from her palm, a sweet fire ran through her veins that made her groan into her mouth. She experienced a stab of desire transmitted directly to her soft, vulnerable centre, then came the slippery wetness of her longing. How she melted for this girl. One touch and she was her slave. Incongruously she thought, where's your pride? There was no answer.
Their passion left them breathless; helpless in the force of their attraction. Reluctantly they drew a short distance apart. Sid wanted to be all over Ten. To envelop her in her own body which had tightened with desire. To encompass her, and take her into herself.
“Chop it Sid,”
she protested silently. Ten is better than that
. “Groping in a car, out in the street.”
She pulled back, hands dropping onto the wheel her face grim, as she crushed down on her restive feelings.
âGotta go,' was all she said in a tight voice, breathing raggedly.
Ten turned away too, feeling an acute sense of loss; of emptiness. A cloud seemed to have gathered about her, surrounding her in a torment there seemed no way of resolving. She felt she was going down into a spinning, free-fall and could see no end to it.
âI'll get your crutches,' Sid spoke hurriedly.
âDamn those things,' Ten burst out fiercely. âI hate them.' Sid studied her face, her gaze intuitive and direct, noting the increased color in the cheeks, but said nothing. She walked round to the curb side and helped her out by holding the door and the crutches. There was no physical contact. Keeping her voice neutral, she reminded her they were going to pick up the canes tomorrow. âNo more crutches.'
They stood together by the side of the car, so close they could feel each other's breath on their face, but their bodies did not touch. Sid felt a slight trembling of her hand as she closed the passenger door.
âSee you tomorrow,' she said dully, almost stupefied, as she turned away heading for the driver's side, but her eyes showed a fierce light.
âBye, Sid,' Tenille called out, lost in the night's shadows as she headed up the path. She had the key in the lock as Sidonie wheeled away into the darkness. For a moment she experienced a sense of timelessness. She would be forever reaching her front door as Sidonie would be driving away to be swallowed up by the night, with her thoughts plunging after her.
This was such a difficult time. The lament was forlorn. She felt so lonely; abandoned almost. How silly she was being. She made her way to her apartment hoping Mrs. Sandrelli wouldn't appear, wanting to chat. She didn't feel up to small talk. She remembered when she had felt this way before. Lindsay. She had persuaded Sidonie to make love to her, despite her reluctance and her mother had caught them. She was flooded with the shame of it. Too tired to do more than her teeth, being a nightly ritual, she then climbed into bed, thoughts still rushing on, in the form of questions ⦠and questions demanded answers. Although her body was beginning to unwind her mind would not let her go. Now she and her mother were no longer speaking. She couldn't talk to her father on his own, so in essence, was cut off from them. All she had was Sidonie and her new friends, Thea and Reine. Was this how life was going to be? Did being lesbian mean renouncing all that went before? She could blend the two couldn't she? Kirsten was still her friend and she knew about Sidonie, but they didn't see each other regularly. What about her dancing friends, Ingrid, Daphne and Wendy? Could she still go about with them the same if they knew? Perhaps Wendy, but she wasn't sure about the others. She and Marissa had talked, but she probably wouldn't want to spend time with her, not once she found out about Sidonie, hating to know she'd been successful where she'd failed.