Outing of the Heart (12 page)
Read Outing of the Heart Online
Authors: Lisa Ann Harper
Tenille received a goodly share of admiring glances which both brothers were alert to notice. It made Darren expand with pride. She charmed everybody; sparkling with lively interest, yet so unaffected. Nelson determined to keep his eye on this one. He knew she wasn't really attached. What had started out to be another routine party in the rather boring Christmas round, had suddenly brightened. Who knew what the night would render up?
Rum and eggnog seemed to be the go. Tenille had almost drunk her second and was beginning to feel a little light headed. Delicious as the savory pastries were, they were not lining her stomach. She needed to slow down. Darren noticed her glass and was prepared to be of service.
âEnough for now, thanks,' setting it down on an occasional table.
âWould you like to dance?' he asked, hopefully. She threw him a radiant smile of acceptance, tightening the bond of attraction which had been pulling him closer. He could really go for Tenille. She had beauty, brains and was fun to be with. This was his lucky night.
As they returned to the living room, she checked the hour. Almost midnight. Where had the time gone? Devon had hired a D-J who knew his way around techno-pop, getting everyone bopping to Alex Party â WRAP ME UP; Candy Girls â WHAM BAM, and La Bouche â SWEET DREAMS. Right now it was Tatjana's SANTA MARIA. It was then she spotted Devon, dancing with a much older man, the wealthy, well preserved type, rather in the style of Jerred, she was interested to note; still keeping himself fit and expensively groomed. Devon herself looked fantastic, shimmering and slithering to the music in a silver, lame sheath; the neckline low and scooped, finishing mid-thigh. Black, shear panty hose and high platform, wide strap, silver shoes completed the lower half. This time her hair was tinted pink and spiked. A doll of the twenty first century. With her thin arms and legs she could have been a model. Their eyes met and she sent her a broad, happy smile; said something to her partner and left him on the floor. She gave her a big hug.
âI see you and Nelson are hitting it off.' No matter that the two were dancing, she made them stop and took Tenille to one side. Nelson could do nothing but tag along.
âSupper's about to be served. I'll see you then, but I've got to go to the kitchen now. You look gorgeous.' She kissed her quickly then left them standing by the archway. The kiss had been fleeting, but it was on the lips and its softness remained. Now her stomach was turning over with her thoughts in disarray. Devon. So overwhelming, so unpredictable. She hadn't seen her all evening then suddenly she was there, making her feel special.
The D-J broke up the dancing with Christmas carols. Wafts of hot turkey tempted the palate, drawing people to the serviced buffet where staff were handing over prepared plates. The guests added their own extras. Dessert included traditional mince pies and pudding with a choice of brandy sauce or custard. Tenille was famished. She didn't attempt small talk but ate steadily. Devon came over at the end and took her away, promising to return her to the others soon.
âCome upstairs.' She followed, happy to put distance between her and the noise for a while. Also, she needed a washroom. Devon waited, then led her down the corridor. Inside her room she indicated a chair, then presented a small, beautifully wrapped gift. âOpen it.'
âNo ⦠Devon wait.' Tenille accepted the present. âI have something I want to give you. Where are the coats?'
âMy parent's room.' They retraced their steps to a large, femininely decorated bedroom. It took her some time to find her things, buried deep, but then she was able to hand Devon her quite large gift, topped off with a big yellow bow. They returned to Devon's room.
âYou first,' she insisted.
âNo, you,' Devon enjoined. âI gave you yours first.'
âAll right then,' she capitulated, laughing delightedly. She hated to spoil the wrapping, but had to tear it. Devon had given her three cassettes of Flamenco music. She was ecstatic.
âI was going to get CDs, but remembered in time you only have your little radio tape player,' she elaborated, not wanting to appear ungenerous.
âOh Devon, this is perfect.' She couldn't hold back from going over and throwing her arms around her. Devon twisted so they were standing face to face, causing their bodies to touch along their full length. The exuberant thanks became a lingering embrace, as Devon received her total compliance. She had felt powerless to be anything else. They just stood together, locked in each other's arms. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, enough to suffocate her throat.
Devon was the first to pull away. âI have a gift to open.' She sat on the side of her bed and carefully removed the bow. It wasn't in her nature to care, but she guessed Tenille had wrapped this herself so she would show her efforts some respect. Tenille watched anxiously as Googles was revealed. Devon knew from the feel, the gift would be some kind of toy and was so relieved it wasn't gross. It was this look of relief Tenille mistook for pleasure. She was made happy by it, so Devon did her best not to cause any disillusion, no matter she couldn't give a fig about stuffed toys. She called her over and pulled her down onto the bed beside her.
âThank you.' This time she put her hand under Tenille's chin and tilted it up. Slowly she approached her mouth and lowered her lips to hers. Tenille received the kiss in a state of shock. She didn't respond, but she didn't pull away either. Stunned, she simply sat there, Devon completely in control. Then she dropped her hand from her face.
âLets get back, the others will be wondering where we've gotten to.' They left their gifts where they lay. At their appearance Nelson approached and claimed Tenille for a dance. Later, she realized he must have been lying in wait, because almost immediately Darren came up and looked disappointed. He gallantly asked Devon to dance, but she made some excuse.
âSee you later,' she threw to Tenille as they moved apart. To her ears it sounded conspiratorial and her heart raced again as her eyes shone.
The frenetic pace of the earlier dancing had now changed to a mellower mood. Nelson took Tenille in his arms and held her close. Other couples in the dance space were similarly entwined, but they probably knew each other. She tried to get out of his vicelike grip. It seemed to make him hold her even closer.
âNelson.' She could smell his booze-laden breath as his head bent close to hers.
âRelax, Poppet. You know, you and I hit it off just great.' He began pressing himself against her. His erection was enormous and she recoiled.
âNelson. Stop this.' She needed help, but everyone was absorbed in their own world. She struggled more violently, resulting in collisions, but the couples took no notice, thinking they had drunk as much as they. Her clothing was becoming dishevelled; he was so strong. Suddenly, Darren was there, pulling his brother off, his voice loud with incensed indignation.
âGet lost, kid,' was the only reply, as Nelson swung them away from his range. Darren pursued.
âLet her go. Damn it.' He tried again to come between his brother and Tenille. This time Nelson did let go, as he made a big swing to his brother's head. Darren ducked the right hook and landed one of his own. She looked on, horrified at this confrontation, panic making her turn frantically, seeking Devon. What relief. She was approaching with that man. People began to realize a fight was in progress, as some of the punches landed squarely, winding the opponent who then exhaled with loud grunts.
âCut this out, you boys.' Devon's friend's voice carried a strong ring of authority and seemed to bring the young men to their senses. They pushed themselves apart, still belligerent, but no longer violent.
âNelson come with me,' Devon' cajoled. I'll get you a drink, help you cool off.' His face had turned blotchy red with the rise of his choler; his mouth, where Darren's knuckles had made contact, was beginning to swell. He turned away reluctantly, observing Tenille surrounded by a group of concerned guests.
Her body was still shaking from this unexpected, violent exchange, as a chill ran through her and she watched helplessly, hating this demonstration of male aggression. Hating too, that she had been the cause of it. Despite the warmth of the room, she felt cold. Darren placed his arm around her shoulders, protectively.
âCan I get you something?' he asked, his voice making it very clear he was feeling contrite over the whole thing.
âI ⦠I would like to go home, please, Darren.'
âOf course, I understand.' He felt very disappointed. This wasn't how he had pictured the evening would end. Nelson had always had a way of spoiling things for him. Older and more powerful, he always came out on top. He sighed. The others were drifting away; the excitement over.
As he drove they remained silent. She realized she had left without seeing Devon again. There were no parting words for her to cling to while she was away: no promise of phone calls. She'd not even been able to tell her she would miss her terribly. On second thought, perhaps that was just as well.
Soon they were outside #226 and Darren had turned off the engine. With diffidence he approached the subject of seeing her again.
âI leave for home tomorrow.'
âWill you be back in town for Devon's New Year's?'
âI don't know anything about that. She's not said.' Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion. They should have had time for a proper goodbye. Devon didn't even have her home phone number:
“The Lindsay one,”
she corrected herself.
Darren was speaking again; she had to force herself to pay attention. â â¦So I really would like to see you.' He was leaning forward earnestly, hoping not to be in pursuit of a lost cause.
âI can't say at this time what my future plans will be.' She turned towards him, but her hand was at the door: âThank you so much for rescuing me and for the lift home. I do appreciate your help.' Again she felt so formal, but how else could she be?
He walked her to the house. At least he didn't attempt to kiss her and for that she felt grateful, so she leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek.
âYou are a very nice person, Darren, and my thanks were not just me being polite.' He headed back to the car, then stopped and threw over his shoulder: âSee you New Year's.'
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Trying to think of all the last minute things she may need was not easy that Sunday. The late night, coupled with a restless, unrefreshing sleep had left her feeling woolly-headed and slightly tenuous. It was as if someone else were going through her motions and she, the real Tenille, was the observer. Despite this very strange state, she got herself to the noisy, crowded Bay Street terminal in good time.
Toronto had entered into a severe cold snap. As soon as she had stepped outside, the moisture in her nostrils froze, giving her that prickly sensation she always associated with winter. Everyone's breath held in clouds as they spoke. The exhaust from the vehicles passing by gave the same effect.
“Funny”
, she thought,
“how cars are putting out that pollution all the time, but we only see it in winter.”
She didn't have far to go and getting there was easy, but the waiting around was tedious. She joined the snaking line up for return tickets and hoped she'd be able to catch up on her sleep on the journey.
Leaning against the bar, she observed the contrast of those bustling about and those sitting, bored with waiting. This hustle and activity was making her head pound; no longer used to five thirty starts.
“How could all these people here be so jolly and excited?”
She grimaced. An old grumps today, where was her Christmas spirit?
She wasn't looking forward to this time with her parents. Not her parents; her mother. In close proximity, they were adept at rubbing each other the wrong way. Between her dad and herself it was much easier, less demanding; more accepting. But she would make a real effort for this to be a happy holiday.
Her business completed, she was free to move outside and station herself behind the Lindsay sign. Fumes from the idling coach engines were nauseating, but all that action inside was too much while in this fragile state. At least out here it was herself, the buses and the Salvation Army, shaking their bells and tambourines and singing out their hearts. She dropped loose change into the hat. Soon other people arrived.
The bus pulled up. She had watched it come from across the road, behind the Penatanguisheen coach. The driver jumped out to stow the baggage and she climbed aboard, selecting a window seat half way down, on the curb side. The coach pulled away and despite the early hour, took a long time to get to the Scarborough Town Centre. It only passed through. The second one would pick up the waiting passengers.
Out on the highway she let herself fall into somnolence, the magazine lying forgotten in her hands. She ruminated back over the party. She was experiencing a profound distaste for men's attention, finding them asinine in their antics to attract her and in their efforts to dominate. She hadn't noticed before how stupid they made themselves, trying to be macho and sexy. It was all a waste of time as far as she was concerned and she wished they'd just behave like normal human beings. But that was the trouble with men, she realized, if they were not interested sexually, then they weren't interested period. Even Darren, sweet as he was, was attentive because he found her attractive. Her real self he probably couldn't give a damn about. No, in Darren's case that was being too harsh. But when men were driven by their gonads, anything would do. She had even heard of them fucking a hole in the wall. And animals too. Really, why did women worry so much about their appearance? Men would have intercourse with them no matter what. All they had to do was drop their draws. Discrimination in reverse? But when the lust was upon them they were blind.
“Let's face it,”
she thought honestly,
“the lust is upon them pretty much most of the time.”
Love featured little in their way of being.
“Give them their due for their children though,”
she reflected,
“they can love them.”
What a jaundiced mood. What had brought all that on? She would have to lighten up before she hit Lindsay. âMom will send you packing girl.'
Rum and eggnog seemed to be the go. Tenille had almost drunk her second and was beginning to feel a little light headed. Delicious as the savory pastries were, they were not lining her stomach. She needed to slow down. Darren noticed her glass and was prepared to be of service.
âEnough for now, thanks,' setting it down on an occasional table.
âWould you like to dance?' he asked, hopefully. She threw him a radiant smile of acceptance, tightening the bond of attraction which had been pulling him closer. He could really go for Tenille. She had beauty, brains and was fun to be with. This was his lucky night.
As they returned to the living room, she checked the hour. Almost midnight. Where had the time gone? Devon had hired a D-J who knew his way around techno-pop, getting everyone bopping to Alex Party â WRAP ME UP; Candy Girls â WHAM BAM, and La Bouche â SWEET DREAMS. Right now it was Tatjana's SANTA MARIA. It was then she spotted Devon, dancing with a much older man, the wealthy, well preserved type, rather in the style of Jerred, she was interested to note; still keeping himself fit and expensively groomed. Devon herself looked fantastic, shimmering and slithering to the music in a silver, lame sheath; the neckline low and scooped, finishing mid-thigh. Black, shear panty hose and high platform, wide strap, silver shoes completed the lower half. This time her hair was tinted pink and spiked. A doll of the twenty first century. With her thin arms and legs she could have been a model. Their eyes met and she sent her a broad, happy smile; said something to her partner and left him on the floor. She gave her a big hug.
âI see you and Nelson are hitting it off.' No matter that the two were dancing, she made them stop and took Tenille to one side. Nelson could do nothing but tag along.
âSupper's about to be served. I'll see you then, but I've got to go to the kitchen now. You look gorgeous.' She kissed her quickly then left them standing by the archway. The kiss had been fleeting, but it was on the lips and its softness remained. Now her stomach was turning over with her thoughts in disarray. Devon. So overwhelming, so unpredictable. She hadn't seen her all evening then suddenly she was there, making her feel special.
The D-J broke up the dancing with Christmas carols. Wafts of hot turkey tempted the palate, drawing people to the serviced buffet where staff were handing over prepared plates. The guests added their own extras. Dessert included traditional mince pies and pudding with a choice of brandy sauce or custard. Tenille was famished. She didn't attempt small talk but ate steadily. Devon came over at the end and took her away, promising to return her to the others soon.
âCome upstairs.' She followed, happy to put distance between her and the noise for a while. Also, she needed a washroom. Devon waited, then led her down the corridor. Inside her room she indicated a chair, then presented a small, beautifully wrapped gift. âOpen it.'
âNo ⦠Devon wait.' Tenille accepted the present. âI have something I want to give you. Where are the coats?'
âMy parent's room.' They retraced their steps to a large, femininely decorated bedroom. It took her some time to find her things, buried deep, but then she was able to hand Devon her quite large gift, topped off with a big yellow bow. They returned to Devon's room.
âYou first,' she insisted.
âNo, you,' Devon enjoined. âI gave you yours first.'
âAll right then,' she capitulated, laughing delightedly. She hated to spoil the wrapping, but had to tear it. Devon had given her three cassettes of Flamenco music. She was ecstatic.
âI was going to get CDs, but remembered in time you only have your little radio tape player,' she elaborated, not wanting to appear ungenerous.
âOh Devon, this is perfect.' She couldn't hold back from going over and throwing her arms around her. Devon twisted so they were standing face to face, causing their bodies to touch along their full length. The exuberant thanks became a lingering embrace, as Devon received her total compliance. She had felt powerless to be anything else. They just stood together, locked in each other's arms. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, enough to suffocate her throat.
Devon was the first to pull away. âI have a gift to open.' She sat on the side of her bed and carefully removed the bow. It wasn't in her nature to care, but she guessed Tenille had wrapped this herself so she would show her efforts some respect. Tenille watched anxiously as Googles was revealed. Devon knew from the feel, the gift would be some kind of toy and was so relieved it wasn't gross. It was this look of relief Tenille mistook for pleasure. She was made happy by it, so Devon did her best not to cause any disillusion, no matter she couldn't give a fig about stuffed toys. She called her over and pulled her down onto the bed beside her.
âThank you.' This time she put her hand under Tenille's chin and tilted it up. Slowly she approached her mouth and lowered her lips to hers. Tenille received the kiss in a state of shock. She didn't respond, but she didn't pull away either. Stunned, she simply sat there, Devon completely in control. Then she dropped her hand from her face.
âLets get back, the others will be wondering where we've gotten to.' They left their gifts where they lay. At their appearance Nelson approached and claimed Tenille for a dance. Later, she realized he must have been lying in wait, because almost immediately Darren came up and looked disappointed. He gallantly asked Devon to dance, but she made some excuse.
âSee you later,' she threw to Tenille as they moved apart. To her ears it sounded conspiratorial and her heart raced again as her eyes shone.
The frenetic pace of the earlier dancing had now changed to a mellower mood. Nelson took Tenille in his arms and held her close. Other couples in the dance space were similarly entwined, but they probably knew each other. She tried to get out of his vicelike grip. It seemed to make him hold her even closer.
âNelson.' She could smell his booze-laden breath as his head bent close to hers.
âRelax, Poppet. You know, you and I hit it off just great.' He began pressing himself against her. His erection was enormous and she recoiled.
âNelson. Stop this.' She needed help, but everyone was absorbed in their own world. She struggled more violently, resulting in collisions, but the couples took no notice, thinking they had drunk as much as they. Her clothing was becoming dishevelled; he was so strong. Suddenly, Darren was there, pulling his brother off, his voice loud with incensed indignation.
âGet lost, kid,' was the only reply, as Nelson swung them away from his range. Darren pursued.
âLet her go. Damn it.' He tried again to come between his brother and Tenille. This time Nelson did let go, as he made a big swing to his brother's head. Darren ducked the right hook and landed one of his own. She looked on, horrified at this confrontation, panic making her turn frantically, seeking Devon. What relief. She was approaching with that man. People began to realize a fight was in progress, as some of the punches landed squarely, winding the opponent who then exhaled with loud grunts.
âCut this out, you boys.' Devon's friend's voice carried a strong ring of authority and seemed to bring the young men to their senses. They pushed themselves apart, still belligerent, but no longer violent.
âNelson come with me,' Devon' cajoled. I'll get you a drink, help you cool off.' His face had turned blotchy red with the rise of his choler; his mouth, where Darren's knuckles had made contact, was beginning to swell. He turned away reluctantly, observing Tenille surrounded by a group of concerned guests.
Her body was still shaking from this unexpected, violent exchange, as a chill ran through her and she watched helplessly, hating this demonstration of male aggression. Hating too, that she had been the cause of it. Despite the warmth of the room, she felt cold. Darren placed his arm around her shoulders, protectively.
âCan I get you something?' he asked, his voice making it very clear he was feeling contrite over the whole thing.
âI ⦠I would like to go home, please, Darren.'
âOf course, I understand.' He felt very disappointed. This wasn't how he had pictured the evening would end. Nelson had always had a way of spoiling things for him. Older and more powerful, he always came out on top. He sighed. The others were drifting away; the excitement over.
As he drove they remained silent. She realized she had left without seeing Devon again. There were no parting words for her to cling to while she was away: no promise of phone calls. She'd not even been able to tell her she would miss her terribly. On second thought, perhaps that was just as well.
Soon they were outside #226 and Darren had turned off the engine. With diffidence he approached the subject of seeing her again.
âI leave for home tomorrow.'
âWill you be back in town for Devon's New Year's?'
âI don't know anything about that. She's not said.' Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion. They should have had time for a proper goodbye. Devon didn't even have her home phone number:
“The Lindsay one,”
she corrected herself.
Darren was speaking again; she had to force herself to pay attention. â â¦So I really would like to see you.' He was leaning forward earnestly, hoping not to be in pursuit of a lost cause.
âI can't say at this time what my future plans will be.' She turned towards him, but her hand was at the door: âThank you so much for rescuing me and for the lift home. I do appreciate your help.' Again she felt so formal, but how else could she be?
He walked her to the house. At least he didn't attempt to kiss her and for that she felt grateful, so she leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek.
âYou are a very nice person, Darren, and my thanks were not just me being polite.' He headed back to the car, then stopped and threw over his shoulder: âSee you New Year's.'
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Trying to think of all the last minute things she may need was not easy that Sunday. The late night, coupled with a restless, unrefreshing sleep had left her feeling woolly-headed and slightly tenuous. It was as if someone else were going through her motions and she, the real Tenille, was the observer. Despite this very strange state, she got herself to the noisy, crowded Bay Street terminal in good time.
Toronto had entered into a severe cold snap. As soon as she had stepped outside, the moisture in her nostrils froze, giving her that prickly sensation she always associated with winter. Everyone's breath held in clouds as they spoke. The exhaust from the vehicles passing by gave the same effect.
“Funny”
, she thought,
“how cars are putting out that pollution all the time, but we only see it in winter.”
She didn't have far to go and getting there was easy, but the waiting around was tedious. She joined the snaking line up for return tickets and hoped she'd be able to catch up on her sleep on the journey.
Leaning against the bar, she observed the contrast of those bustling about and those sitting, bored with waiting. This hustle and activity was making her head pound; no longer used to five thirty starts.
“How could all these people here be so jolly and excited?”
She grimaced. An old grumps today, where was her Christmas spirit?
She wasn't looking forward to this time with her parents. Not her parents; her mother. In close proximity, they were adept at rubbing each other the wrong way. Between her dad and herself it was much easier, less demanding; more accepting. But she would make a real effort for this to be a happy holiday.
Her business completed, she was free to move outside and station herself behind the Lindsay sign. Fumes from the idling coach engines were nauseating, but all that action inside was too much while in this fragile state. At least out here it was herself, the buses and the Salvation Army, shaking their bells and tambourines and singing out their hearts. She dropped loose change into the hat. Soon other people arrived.
The bus pulled up. She had watched it come from across the road, behind the Penatanguisheen coach. The driver jumped out to stow the baggage and she climbed aboard, selecting a window seat half way down, on the curb side. The coach pulled away and despite the early hour, took a long time to get to the Scarborough Town Centre. It only passed through. The second one would pick up the waiting passengers.
Out on the highway she let herself fall into somnolence, the magazine lying forgotten in her hands. She ruminated back over the party. She was experiencing a profound distaste for men's attention, finding them asinine in their antics to attract her and in their efforts to dominate. She hadn't noticed before how stupid they made themselves, trying to be macho and sexy. It was all a waste of time as far as she was concerned and she wished they'd just behave like normal human beings. But that was the trouble with men, she realized, if they were not interested sexually, then they weren't interested period. Even Darren, sweet as he was, was attentive because he found her attractive. Her real self he probably couldn't give a damn about. No, in Darren's case that was being too harsh. But when men were driven by their gonads, anything would do. She had even heard of them fucking a hole in the wall. And animals too. Really, why did women worry so much about their appearance? Men would have intercourse with them no matter what. All they had to do was drop their draws. Discrimination in reverse? But when the lust was upon them they were blind.
“Let's face it,”
she thought honestly,
“the lust is upon them pretty much most of the time.”
Love featured little in their way of being.
“Give them their due for their children though,”
she reflected,
“they can love them.”
What a jaundiced mood. What had brought all that on? She would have to lighten up before she hit Lindsay. âMom will send you packing girl.'
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