Outing of the Heart (14 page)
Read Outing of the Heart Online
Authors: Lisa Ann Harper
How was she enjoying her Christmas? Perhaps a call tomorrow? She had to hear her voice again. Surely Boxing day wouldn't be too soon?
Doris's dinner was a great success. Enough rum and eggnog and sherry did the trick. Port with the nuts afterwards and Doris was able to relax and have a good time. Tenille would have been happier to have her Gran and Gramps with them, but they lived in Hull making it too cold to travel. They had sent her a delicate mohair shell in shades of soft pink, starting from plum at the waist to almost white at the shoulders. She loved their thoughtfulness. The evening broke up just before ten o'clock, with everyone in mellow mood.
As it transpired, there was no impediment to Tenille visiting with Kirsten. They were able to get together Boxing Day, Doris content to have a quiet time at home. Tenille helped with the house, then was free to do as she pleased. She took it easy too. There was enough time for her to call Devon, but when she reached out to pick up the hand set, her courage failed her.
Alexander warmed up the car in advance and drove Tenille over. They left it that she would call when she was ready. Kirsten opened the door at the first knock. She had cut her hair since the last time and now light brown curls framed her face. It suited her, Tenille thought. Although her weight was still considerable, she was one of these women whose cherubic looks kept her young.
âI know you've probably mince pied yourselves to death already, but here's another eight from my house,' Tenille offered, as she stepped over the threshold.
Kirsten laughed. âCome in, come in. We'll love to have them,' leading the way towards the back of the house where most of their time was spent, Shania's support systems being much in evidence. Toys piled in large, carpet-covered boxes and nursery pictures on every wall. She was having fun jumping from bean seat to bean seat, but stopped as soon as she saw Tenille and ran to her.
âIf it's okay with you, Ten, we'll visit with Shania first while she has her supper, then I can put her to bed and it'll be just us.'
âWhere's Dietmar?'
âOh, he'll be in later, but he's over watching the hockey at his friend's.'
After Shania was in bed and Tenille had read her a story, her Christmas treat, the two women returned to the kitchen where Kirsten began preparing dinner. A glass of white wine accompanied their exchanges.
âHow are you enjoying motherhood, Kirsten? Any problems?'
A frown of concern creased her forehead. âIt's not easy, this day and age, Ten. There are so many influences over which we have no control. I want Shania to grow up with certain values, but already I feel I'm being undermined.' She began to grate some fresh Parmesan. âTelevision is very important in her life. I can't not let her watch. All her friends talk about the TV characters. Just by osmosis almost, she knows which are the current products that everyone has to have. She is able, at her young age, to bring pressure to bear. It's difficult for me to slow the pace of her budding consumerism.'
âYou make it sound so desperate, Kirstie.'
âNo, it's not that bad, but I don't see the situation getting any better as she gets older. There was a time when respect for ones' elders kept the young behaving in a socially acceptable manner. Even just the use of people's surnames maintained a respectable distance. Today, youngsters not only don't have respect, often they positively hold in contempt, those who should have sobering influences over them.' She refilled their glasses. âThis is the culture Shania will grow up into. Where young people are developed by other young people, who have had no time to learn the value of deliberation of opposing viewpoints. All they know is how they feel and their feelings are so wayward and egocentric.'
âYes, it will be a difficult process, but she'll have you to help her through,' Tenille consoled. âDespite what you say, there are many well balanced and socially acceptable young people about.'
âThis is true, but I fear the trend is moving in the opposite direction. The number of homeless is increasing. It seems their expectations in life are so unrealistic, fed as they are on a steady diet of âmust have' products. If you're not trendy, you're out and for the young today that is the worst place to be. Here we are.' Plates of steaming hot pasta with Bolognese sauce and a large bowl of green salad were set before her.
âTell me about you.' She sat opposite and sprinkled some cheese. Tenille retold, with great happiness, how well she was coming along with her dancing and about her new friends. She talked of Devon too, and it felt good. The wine had loosened her tongue enough for her to tell her how much she missed her.
âI wanted to phone today, but got cold feet. I don't know what it is, but I get so nervous around her.'
Kirsten laughed. âI know what you mean. I used to be the same with you.'
She looked across at her, amazed. âDo you mean, you felt about me how I feel about Devon?'
âI don't know if that is exactly the case,' she demurred, âbut I do know you always had this unsettling effect on me.'
Tenille was truly surprised at this. She looked at Kirsten through new eyes, the revelation giving her confidence to confide. âI felt such jealousy when I watched her dancing at the Christmas party. I saw those men's eyes on her, hungrily staring and I hated it. I felt she was being violated.'
âI went through that with you. You were always so popular. Being on the outside, you never noticed me.'
Tenille finished her dinner and dabbed her lips with her napkin. âHow unthinking I was in those days. You don't hold it against me now though, do you?' She took another sip from her glass and looked expectantly at her friend.
âNot now. I'm married and have the love of a good man. I guess it was just a phase I was going through.' Kirsten chuckled to herself at her memories. âI remember contriving to be on my break when you were on yours. Sometimes I had to do some pretty fancy talking to accomplish it. Well, in the end we did become friends, didn't we?' She got up and came to Tenille to put her arms around her and give her a squeeze. âIt'll be the same for you, Tennie, you'll see. In time you'll meet someone who will really sweep you off your feet and he'll make you forget these feelings.' She began clearing away. âWould you like one of your pies?'
âNo thanks.' Tenille seemed lost in thought.
âHere's a plate of shortbreads, then.' She resumed her seat.
âBut Kirstie, I'm not a schoolgirl or student any more,' she observed, reaching for a cookie. âI'm thirty now. I should be over all that girlish, infatuation stuff.'
âWell, at the time of course, it feels pretty important and overwhelming. I was devastated one day when I asked if you'd like to see a movie with me that night. It was the beginning of our friendship and you just looked at me blankly. It was as if you had no concept that to go out with another girl could be on the cards. I remember I went home and didn't do anything on my day off, just moped around the house.'
âOh Kirstie.' This time it was she who got up and extended her arms. Kirsten twisted in them and gave her a kiss. Her lips missed the mouth and landed half on her cheek. Nonetheless, she felt the feeling in it. She pulled back and looked directly into the other woman's eyes. They were glistening with emotion.
âPay no attention, Tennie,' she advised: âOld memories are making me a sook.'
Tenille was bemused. To think she had been oblivious of these undercurrents. She felt foolish. Kirsten did seem over it however, although the memories still ran deep.
Soon after this, Dietmar came in. The two women couldn't talk freely and Tenille felt it was time to go. She gave her dad a call and very quickly he was knocking at the door. It was an emotional farewell, Kirsten finding it hard to let her go.
âCan you come again? Before you return to Toronto.'
âI'd like to say yes, Kirstie, but I doubt it really. Anyway, I've got your number now, so we'll be able to stay in touch.'
Kirsten looked crestfallen. At least they'd had this time together and she had told Tenille something of her feelings ⦠not all. Seeing her the other night had brought so much back. She was even more beautiful. The years had given her face character. Not hardened it, but let the sensitivity show through. In the depth of her eyes it could be seen that she too, had weathered adversity. They showed a sympathy of understanding that warmed the heart. Perhaps she could make some free time to visit Tenille?
âHow was your evening, Tennie?' Alexander asked as they drove home.
âVery nice, Dad. We pretty well had all the time to ourselves so we really could chinwag.' What a way to describe what they had been through, but she couldn't say more.
âYour mother took a call while you were away. A friend of hers has been let down at the last minute by her babysitter. She tried getting a replacement, but it's too short notice. Could you do it? Doris said a provisional yes on your behalf.' He shot her a quick glance, then continued hastily: âIf it's not okay, give her a call when you get in, the number's by the phone.'
âWho is it Dad? Do I know them?' She didn't mind much, either way.
âI'm not sure. The Harlands. Your mother and Timea met when she signed up for a Seminole Patchwork course at the college. You know ⦠those nice place mats and cushions she's made.'
âWell, it's all right with me. I just hope the kids are not little monsters,' she observed disparagingly. âI'll phone anyway, just to get a few more details.'
Mrs. Harland was relieved. The children, who turned out to be two little boys five and seven, would be ready for bed, watching TV. At the end of the program they were to go to bed directly ⦠severely lectured that there was to be no fuss. Tenille was not to be bothered.
Alone in her room, she undressed slowly, thinking over what Kirsten had told her and how she'd looked at her. She couldn't settle for sleep so drew back the drapes and sat gazing out the window. It was a clear, bright night, the stars twinkling down at her, cold and impartial. Just so they would look, whether one was happy or sad. She felt dejected. To have caused Kirsten so much hurt, albeit unknowingly. But Kirsten had suffered. Perhaps she too, would suffer over Devon. Devon didn't know about her feelings for her, indeed, she wasn't sure herself. It was all such a muddle. The impact of the cold became too insistent to ignore. Time to bury herself under the duvet. Perhaps she would phone tomorrow, but just the thought made her heart pound in her ears.
Alexander dropped her off at the Harland's the next evening. She should get her driver's license, but now she had no access to a vehicle. Mr. Harland was at an office party and Timea was going to a dinner with the Curling Club at The Country Squire.
âMake yourself something to eat Tenille. We have piles of leftovers. I've put coffee on the counter. I'm not sure what time I'll be back, but it's certain to be before midnight. Gerald should get back before me and he'll, run you home. Thank you so much for doing this. I really appreciate it.'
There was a toot out front. âThat'll be Agnes. Bye ⦠and thanks again.'
The boys acknowledged Tenille's presence with a perfunctory: âHi,' but otherwise were too absorbed in their program. They were good at bedtime though, and scampered off without trouble, telling her they'd already cleaned their teeth, so she let it pass.
The evening was quiet. She had brought a book to read if there was nothing on the box, but in fact she got sucked into The X Files, a rerun. Totally absorbed, she was surprised when she heard curses at the front door and someone trying to get the key in the lock. It must be Mr. Harland. He stood there a little unsteadily, surprised to see her. There was no sign of his car or a taxi; someone had delivered him then?
âHello. Where's Sonia?' He dropped his keys as he fumbled for his pocket and bent down to retrieve them. While down there he twisted around to look up at her. What a funny sight, contorted like a chimpanzee. She started to laugh. He laughed too. It was obvious he'd had too much to drink, but it was a jolly mood. There would be no lift home from Mr. Harland though. She would call her dad.
âI'm Sonia's replacement ⦠Tenille.'
âSonia's replacement, could you make me a coffee? My head's pounding.' He proceeded into the living room and let himself collapse onto the chesterfield. Gerald could hear her moving about the kitchen, getting everything together. What a beauty, he thought. When he'd looked at her from below he'd seen the prominent swell of her breasts as she'd gazed down at him, those big, dark eyes shining brightly in their laughter. His arousal had been instant. He got himself up off his seat, but his walk was awkward as he sought her out and leaned against the doorframe to watch her. The girl was irresistible. Her black tights showed off the curve of her delightful butt, especially when she bent down. He'd like to go there.
âEverything go smoothly with the boys?' He decided to move in closer. âCan I help you?' He stood right next to her.
She was surprised by his proximity. âNo, I can manage, thanks.'
Now he reached out for her and his strong hands grasped around her slender shoulders.
âMr. Harland. What are you doing? Let me go.'
âSuch a pretty mouth. I thought I'd sh â¦steal a ki â¦sh,' he slurred, as he swung her around to face him and pressed himself against her. She could feel his bone and was repulsed. She tried to pull away, but the more she struggled the more he came on. So close, she could see the lust in his eyes. He was grabbing for her breasts under the sweater and kissing any part of her face within reach. A big man, she feared she would never escape, but the drink had unsteadied him, giving her a chance to get in a really good shove. He lost his balance. By now she was so angry, fury flushed her cheeks and her eyes glittered with indignation. Her hair fell loose about her face in cascading curls and he wanted her more than ever. He would have her. He lunged and missed, crashing into the kitchen table, hitting his head, knocking over one of the chairs and finishing in a heap on the floor.
Doris's dinner was a great success. Enough rum and eggnog and sherry did the trick. Port with the nuts afterwards and Doris was able to relax and have a good time. Tenille would have been happier to have her Gran and Gramps with them, but they lived in Hull making it too cold to travel. They had sent her a delicate mohair shell in shades of soft pink, starting from plum at the waist to almost white at the shoulders. She loved their thoughtfulness. The evening broke up just before ten o'clock, with everyone in mellow mood.
As it transpired, there was no impediment to Tenille visiting with Kirsten. They were able to get together Boxing Day, Doris content to have a quiet time at home. Tenille helped with the house, then was free to do as she pleased. She took it easy too. There was enough time for her to call Devon, but when she reached out to pick up the hand set, her courage failed her.
Alexander warmed up the car in advance and drove Tenille over. They left it that she would call when she was ready. Kirsten opened the door at the first knock. She had cut her hair since the last time and now light brown curls framed her face. It suited her, Tenille thought. Although her weight was still considerable, she was one of these women whose cherubic looks kept her young.
âI know you've probably mince pied yourselves to death already, but here's another eight from my house,' Tenille offered, as she stepped over the threshold.
Kirsten laughed. âCome in, come in. We'll love to have them,' leading the way towards the back of the house where most of their time was spent, Shania's support systems being much in evidence. Toys piled in large, carpet-covered boxes and nursery pictures on every wall. She was having fun jumping from bean seat to bean seat, but stopped as soon as she saw Tenille and ran to her.
âIf it's okay with you, Ten, we'll visit with Shania first while she has her supper, then I can put her to bed and it'll be just us.'
âWhere's Dietmar?'
âOh, he'll be in later, but he's over watching the hockey at his friend's.'
After Shania was in bed and Tenille had read her a story, her Christmas treat, the two women returned to the kitchen where Kirsten began preparing dinner. A glass of white wine accompanied their exchanges.
âHow are you enjoying motherhood, Kirsten? Any problems?'
A frown of concern creased her forehead. âIt's not easy, this day and age, Ten. There are so many influences over which we have no control. I want Shania to grow up with certain values, but already I feel I'm being undermined.' She began to grate some fresh Parmesan. âTelevision is very important in her life. I can't not let her watch. All her friends talk about the TV characters. Just by osmosis almost, she knows which are the current products that everyone has to have. She is able, at her young age, to bring pressure to bear. It's difficult for me to slow the pace of her budding consumerism.'
âYou make it sound so desperate, Kirstie.'
âNo, it's not that bad, but I don't see the situation getting any better as she gets older. There was a time when respect for ones' elders kept the young behaving in a socially acceptable manner. Even just the use of people's surnames maintained a respectable distance. Today, youngsters not only don't have respect, often they positively hold in contempt, those who should have sobering influences over them.' She refilled their glasses. âThis is the culture Shania will grow up into. Where young people are developed by other young people, who have had no time to learn the value of deliberation of opposing viewpoints. All they know is how they feel and their feelings are so wayward and egocentric.'
âYes, it will be a difficult process, but she'll have you to help her through,' Tenille consoled. âDespite what you say, there are many well balanced and socially acceptable young people about.'
âThis is true, but I fear the trend is moving in the opposite direction. The number of homeless is increasing. It seems their expectations in life are so unrealistic, fed as they are on a steady diet of âmust have' products. If you're not trendy, you're out and for the young today that is the worst place to be. Here we are.' Plates of steaming hot pasta with Bolognese sauce and a large bowl of green salad were set before her.
âTell me about you.' She sat opposite and sprinkled some cheese. Tenille retold, with great happiness, how well she was coming along with her dancing and about her new friends. She talked of Devon too, and it felt good. The wine had loosened her tongue enough for her to tell her how much she missed her.
âI wanted to phone today, but got cold feet. I don't know what it is, but I get so nervous around her.'
Kirsten laughed. âI know what you mean. I used to be the same with you.'
She looked across at her, amazed. âDo you mean, you felt about me how I feel about Devon?'
âI don't know if that is exactly the case,' she demurred, âbut I do know you always had this unsettling effect on me.'
Tenille was truly surprised at this. She looked at Kirsten through new eyes, the revelation giving her confidence to confide. âI felt such jealousy when I watched her dancing at the Christmas party. I saw those men's eyes on her, hungrily staring and I hated it. I felt she was being violated.'
âI went through that with you. You were always so popular. Being on the outside, you never noticed me.'
Tenille finished her dinner and dabbed her lips with her napkin. âHow unthinking I was in those days. You don't hold it against me now though, do you?' She took another sip from her glass and looked expectantly at her friend.
âNot now. I'm married and have the love of a good man. I guess it was just a phase I was going through.' Kirsten chuckled to herself at her memories. âI remember contriving to be on my break when you were on yours. Sometimes I had to do some pretty fancy talking to accomplish it. Well, in the end we did become friends, didn't we?' She got up and came to Tenille to put her arms around her and give her a squeeze. âIt'll be the same for you, Tennie, you'll see. In time you'll meet someone who will really sweep you off your feet and he'll make you forget these feelings.' She began clearing away. âWould you like one of your pies?'
âNo thanks.' Tenille seemed lost in thought.
âHere's a plate of shortbreads, then.' She resumed her seat.
âBut Kirstie, I'm not a schoolgirl or student any more,' she observed, reaching for a cookie. âI'm thirty now. I should be over all that girlish, infatuation stuff.'
âWell, at the time of course, it feels pretty important and overwhelming. I was devastated one day when I asked if you'd like to see a movie with me that night. It was the beginning of our friendship and you just looked at me blankly. It was as if you had no concept that to go out with another girl could be on the cards. I remember I went home and didn't do anything on my day off, just moped around the house.'
âOh Kirstie.' This time it was she who got up and extended her arms. Kirsten twisted in them and gave her a kiss. Her lips missed the mouth and landed half on her cheek. Nonetheless, she felt the feeling in it. She pulled back and looked directly into the other woman's eyes. They were glistening with emotion.
âPay no attention, Tennie,' she advised: âOld memories are making me a sook.'
Tenille was bemused. To think she had been oblivious of these undercurrents. She felt foolish. Kirsten did seem over it however, although the memories still ran deep.
Soon after this, Dietmar came in. The two women couldn't talk freely and Tenille felt it was time to go. She gave her dad a call and very quickly he was knocking at the door. It was an emotional farewell, Kirsten finding it hard to let her go.
âCan you come again? Before you return to Toronto.'
âI'd like to say yes, Kirstie, but I doubt it really. Anyway, I've got your number now, so we'll be able to stay in touch.'
Kirsten looked crestfallen. At least they'd had this time together and she had told Tenille something of her feelings ⦠not all. Seeing her the other night had brought so much back. She was even more beautiful. The years had given her face character. Not hardened it, but let the sensitivity show through. In the depth of her eyes it could be seen that she too, had weathered adversity. They showed a sympathy of understanding that warmed the heart. Perhaps she could make some free time to visit Tenille?
âHow was your evening, Tennie?' Alexander asked as they drove home.
âVery nice, Dad. We pretty well had all the time to ourselves so we really could chinwag.' What a way to describe what they had been through, but she couldn't say more.
âYour mother took a call while you were away. A friend of hers has been let down at the last minute by her babysitter. She tried getting a replacement, but it's too short notice. Could you do it? Doris said a provisional yes on your behalf.' He shot her a quick glance, then continued hastily: âIf it's not okay, give her a call when you get in, the number's by the phone.'
âWho is it Dad? Do I know them?' She didn't mind much, either way.
âI'm not sure. The Harlands. Your mother and Timea met when she signed up for a Seminole Patchwork course at the college. You know ⦠those nice place mats and cushions she's made.'
âWell, it's all right with me. I just hope the kids are not little monsters,' she observed disparagingly. âI'll phone anyway, just to get a few more details.'
Mrs. Harland was relieved. The children, who turned out to be two little boys five and seven, would be ready for bed, watching TV. At the end of the program they were to go to bed directly ⦠severely lectured that there was to be no fuss. Tenille was not to be bothered.
Alone in her room, she undressed slowly, thinking over what Kirsten had told her and how she'd looked at her. She couldn't settle for sleep so drew back the drapes and sat gazing out the window. It was a clear, bright night, the stars twinkling down at her, cold and impartial. Just so they would look, whether one was happy or sad. She felt dejected. To have caused Kirsten so much hurt, albeit unknowingly. But Kirsten had suffered. Perhaps she too, would suffer over Devon. Devon didn't know about her feelings for her, indeed, she wasn't sure herself. It was all such a muddle. The impact of the cold became too insistent to ignore. Time to bury herself under the duvet. Perhaps she would phone tomorrow, but just the thought made her heart pound in her ears.
Alexander dropped her off at the Harland's the next evening. She should get her driver's license, but now she had no access to a vehicle. Mr. Harland was at an office party and Timea was going to a dinner with the Curling Club at The Country Squire.
âMake yourself something to eat Tenille. We have piles of leftovers. I've put coffee on the counter. I'm not sure what time I'll be back, but it's certain to be before midnight. Gerald should get back before me and he'll, run you home. Thank you so much for doing this. I really appreciate it.'
There was a toot out front. âThat'll be Agnes. Bye ⦠and thanks again.'
The boys acknowledged Tenille's presence with a perfunctory: âHi,' but otherwise were too absorbed in their program. They were good at bedtime though, and scampered off without trouble, telling her they'd already cleaned their teeth, so she let it pass.
The evening was quiet. She had brought a book to read if there was nothing on the box, but in fact she got sucked into The X Files, a rerun. Totally absorbed, she was surprised when she heard curses at the front door and someone trying to get the key in the lock. It must be Mr. Harland. He stood there a little unsteadily, surprised to see her. There was no sign of his car or a taxi; someone had delivered him then?
âHello. Where's Sonia?' He dropped his keys as he fumbled for his pocket and bent down to retrieve them. While down there he twisted around to look up at her. What a funny sight, contorted like a chimpanzee. She started to laugh. He laughed too. It was obvious he'd had too much to drink, but it was a jolly mood. There would be no lift home from Mr. Harland though. She would call her dad.
âI'm Sonia's replacement ⦠Tenille.'
âSonia's replacement, could you make me a coffee? My head's pounding.' He proceeded into the living room and let himself collapse onto the chesterfield. Gerald could hear her moving about the kitchen, getting everything together. What a beauty, he thought. When he'd looked at her from below he'd seen the prominent swell of her breasts as she'd gazed down at him, those big, dark eyes shining brightly in their laughter. His arousal had been instant. He got himself up off his seat, but his walk was awkward as he sought her out and leaned against the doorframe to watch her. The girl was irresistible. Her black tights showed off the curve of her delightful butt, especially when she bent down. He'd like to go there.
âEverything go smoothly with the boys?' He decided to move in closer. âCan I help you?' He stood right next to her.
She was surprised by his proximity. âNo, I can manage, thanks.'
Now he reached out for her and his strong hands grasped around her slender shoulders.
âMr. Harland. What are you doing? Let me go.'
âSuch a pretty mouth. I thought I'd sh â¦steal a ki â¦sh,' he slurred, as he swung her around to face him and pressed himself against her. She could feel his bone and was repulsed. She tried to pull away, but the more she struggled the more he came on. So close, she could see the lust in his eyes. He was grabbing for her breasts under the sweater and kissing any part of her face within reach. A big man, she feared she would never escape, but the drink had unsteadied him, giving her a chance to get in a really good shove. He lost his balance. By now she was so angry, fury flushed her cheeks and her eyes glittered with indignation. Her hair fell loose about her face in cascading curls and he wanted her more than ever. He would have her. He lunged and missed, crashing into the kitchen table, hitting his head, knocking over one of the chairs and finishing in a heap on the floor.
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