Outing of the Heart (15 page)

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Authors: Lisa Ann Harper

BOOK: Outing of the Heart
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All this banging had disturbed one of the boys, plus the kettle had come to a boil with a piercing whistle. She made her escape and went to see to the child, quietening him down and giving reassurance there was nothing the matter. On her return, he had unplugged the kettle and she saw him back in the living room, nursing his head. She went to phone then decided against, instead putting on her boots and collecting her ski jacket, preferring to walk home through the glacial winter, than wait another moment in the same house as this asshole.
The night air was chilling, but bracing too. She welcomed the cold on her burning face as she stamped through the snowdrifts, each step helping her regain her composure. How could he have behaved so? Like some animal. No, that wasn't true. In the animal kingdom, the male of the species only made sexual advances when the female was receptive. In fact it was her very readiness which spurred him on, not her resistance. Rape was almost unknown in the natural world. It was mankind who perpetrated these violations, not animals. There was only one exception that she knew of and that was the cheetah. There the female needed some roughing up first, but still, she was never raped. Not that she had been and perhaps he would have done nothing, but who needed this kind of aggravation? She was so mad. Just helping out and doing her mother a favor. What was she going to tell her folks?
She let herself in. Her parents were still watching the news.
‘Hi Tennie. Everything go okay?' her dad enquired, already confident of the answer.
‘Yes, fine. I'm tired though, so I think I'll toddle. ‘Night Mom, Dad.' She gave them each a peck and went to say good night to Betsy. As soon as she opened the door to the back enclosure, Betsy's head popped out of her dog house.
‘Hello girl,' she cried, her own pleasure equalling that of the pooch. They took comfort from each other's presence and she began to feel calmer, as Betsy worked her doggie magic.
“People who labor with and for animals must lead wonderful lives,”
she speculated.
“Animals are so natural, so honest and without guile. They love you for what you are.”
‘If we have integrity, you reward us by your undying faithfulness,' she murmured in Betsy's ear, as she hugged her close and rested her head on her thick, brown neck.
‘See you in the morning, Bets.'
*   *   *
The plan for the next day was for them all to get out of the house and take a drive up to Kawartha Lakes for some rejuvenating fresh air. The weather was perfect. There had been a new fall of snow over night and everything looked sparklingly picturesque in its pristine covering. All angles had been rounded by the white cushions now settled on them: split rail fences, gate posts, even the tines of the barbed wire.
Behind the wheel Alexander observed how he liked to see the winter outline of the majestic old trees. ‘Summertime, the nobility of the branches is masked by their burden of leaves. It's in winter when its true beauty and dignity are revealed.' Tenille looked at the trees she had taken for granted, with a new awareness. Funny what her dad came out with sometimes.
Alexander had to concentrate. Driving could be quite treacherous this time of year. After a mild thaw, the road surface would freeze over into glare ice. It was invisible until the wheels hit and went into a skid. One time this had happened to him. He'd finished up on the other side of the road, in the ditch, facing the opposite direction. He'd done a 360 spin, tried to recover and that had been the result. Fortunately, there'd been no other traffic, this being out in the country and he'd been in a four-wheel drive at the time. Today, they were following the maintainer so the road was ploughed and salted.
On the return journey they decided to drop into Fenelon Falls for a late lunch. It was a country cottage set-up. In the warm light from a flickering log fire, the floral table clothes with their dried flower arrangements gave an ‘old world', country ambience. A craft display was off to one side. Doris loved this sort of thing and felt quite expansive.
‘Tennie, what do you think you will do with your life? You don't intend to remain a store clerk for the rest of your days, do you?'
‘I don't know Mom,' she answered casually, with the surface of her mind only. Inside, she had this restless feeling, but could not pinpoint any cause. She should have been happy over the Christmas break; everything was going well between her and Doris. Perhaps her mother had the right idea after all. She should marry again. Was this her destiny? Surely there could be more. She had thought so, once. Oh, she was missing Devon too much. She would definitely telephone when they got back. She couldn't go another day without hearing her voice. She returned herself to the present and released a long sigh.
‘I don't want to stay where I am now forever, but at the moment I have nothing to take its place. I'll just have to wait and see what turns up.'
Back at the house she took Betsy for an energetic romp in the snow. This time her dad came too. Enjoyment abounded, the cold air, nippy and invigorating.
‘You know, Tennie, I should take Betsy myself more often … try to make it a routine when I come home from work. For sure she needs the exercise and I could do with the relaxation.' Alexander threw the stick again, his face alight with youthful enthusiasm. It did her heart good to see them like this.
When they got in and had divested themselves of all their winter gear, Doris called them to the kitchen where they savored a hot, creamy, turkey soup. This was about the last thing she could think of to finish off the remains of the carcass. It was tasty and disappeared in no time.
In the replete lull which follows a satisfying meal, Tenille judged it to be a good time to broach what was on her mind. As casually as she could, she informed them she wanted to phone Toronto.
‘Of course I'll do it after six,' she submitted: ‘If that's all right with you?' looking at each in turn.
‘You don't have to ask, Cherub,' Alexander answered immediately. ‘Go right ahead.'
‘No, I can wait, Dad.' She went up to her room to look for Devon's number then stretched out on the bed. Time crawled by, probably because she kept checking her watch. When Tenille returned to the kitchen Doris was still puttering about, but she was oblivious, too wrapped up in what she had to do. Heart pounding, the numbers were punched in, then her bright color faded as suddenly the thought,
if she's not there?
popped into her mind.
Mrs. Armstrong answered. ‘Hello.'
‘Hello. Is Devon there?'
‘Who is this? Oh … No, she's out. Can you try again later?'
Unaware of how much store she had set by this call she was totally deflated. She needed so desperately to talk to Devon. Doris could see by her distraction she was upset.
‘Mom?' putting her hand over the mouthpiece: ‘Okay with you if I make another call later?'
‘What is it you need to speak to this girl about that you have to phone now?' Her mother's lips had compressed into a thin line. She knew this look and was on the spot, trying frantically to think of some plausible reason. She couldn't say, “I need to hear her voice.” ‘I want to check when classes begin,' she provided lamely.
‘Do you have to find that out now?'
She remained silent. A message then.
Tenille let herself out to spend time with Betsy. She would talk to her instead. Betsy loved listening to her mistress and they would keep each other warm. Eventually though, she had to return to the fold. By nine o'clock there was still no call. In despair, she was just gearing up to try again, despite her mother's impatience, when the phone buzzed'.
‘That's probably for you,' Doris observed frigidly.
Devon's voice sounded bright and breezy. ‘Tenille, how nice of you to call. I'm not too late am I?'
‘No, of course not. How are you? How was Christmas?'
‘Good, thanks. To tell the truth, Christmas has been a bit dull. Really, I can't wait to get back into the swing of things again. Listen, I'm sorry I missed saying goodbye to you at the party. Darren got you home in one piece I gather?'
‘Oh yes, no problem.'
‘Cool. Would you like him to pick you up for New Year's? He's keen, I know that.' Devon was such a tonic for her. Already she felt more like her old self.
‘Yes, that will be fine.' She was glad to go along with anything. Only four days and she would be seeing her again.
‘Okay, gotta go. This is Mumsy's.' Tenille was just about to sign off too when she remembered to ask when classes started again. Devon was surprised at the question.
‘Not sure. Tell you when I see you. Okay?'
‘Will you be home Sunday? Can I call you then?'
‘Sure. Bye.' There it was, over. She joined her parents.
‘When do they start?' her mother jumped right in. On the spot again.
‘I've got a week's grace.' That was sufficiently vague, she guessed.
‘You could stay longer then?' she persisted.
‘No Mom. I have to go back tomorrow,' she insisted. ‘I need a day to get sorted out before work.' Alexander backed her up in this, even though he would have liked her to stay too.
‘I'll be catching the late bus, as it is. It doesn't leave 'til four.'
Saturday was a bit of a down day. Doris wished they'd had more time to talk. ‘Oh, I forgot. Timea dropped this off for you.' She handed over an envelope. ‘It must be your babysitting money. I thought she would have given it to you already.' Doris looked searchingly at her daughter.
Should something be said about that night? So close to leaving … perhaps it would be best to stay quiet. She would be here again – a small town. If this sort of thing ever came up in conversation in future, then she couldn't be the one to say:
“Girls should come forward and speak out.”
Both Alexander and Doris took her to the depot. It was crowded and noisy with so many offspring returning to the big city. Doris's nose twitched as the odor of musty clothing, hot and damp, assailed her delicate nostrils. Not used to rubbing shoulders with humanity at this level, she felt better waiting outside in the clean air, a faint smell of wood smoke to it.
‘When will you be able to make it up again, Tennie?'
‘I'm not sure. The weekends get pretty booked up, but I'll keep in touch by phone.' The bus pulled into its parking bay.
‘Tennie, it's been a wonderful Christmas.' This was her dad. He put his arms around his daughter and gave her a tremendous hug. Doris came forward for a kiss and presented her cheek. She looked earnestly into Tenille's eyes and said: ‘We'll miss you, Tennie, you know that, don't you?'
‘Yes Mom, I know that. I miss you both too, but … life goes on.' She shrugged and smiled wanly at them. There was nothing she was willing to do to change the situation. She handed her luggage to the driver and climbed in. With little choice of seat, (but at least she didn't have to stand), she was on the far side. Her parents came round to keep the contact. She looked out at the middle-aged couple standing there, side by side, but somehow not together, made twice their size by the winter clothing. Her heart went out to them. She knew how sad they were at her leaving, but she had to harden herself against giving in. She must assert her independence; make her own life. If she stayed here she would be swamped. Tears started in her eyes as she felt a lump in her throat. A big swallow to move it. There they were, standing in the cold, smiling and waving, forced to wait for the coach to pull away, to be released from this frozen moment in time. Thus all three were held by outside forces beyond their control, powerless to bring about change. Finally the driver called out: ‘Destination, downtown Toronto. ETA seven o'clock.'
She waved again, one last time, resolving to call more regularly. They had her best interests at heart and she loved them dearly. She watched them turn away and this time her mother took her father's arm as they walked back to the station wagon.
CHAPTER 3
When Tenille got back to her apartment it really was like coming home. She set down the holdall and other extras she had acquired. Everything was so familiar, so welcoming. She gave Montmorency a big hug, then pirouetted around clutching him to her chest. She would miss Betsy, but right now there were so many other things in her life. She thought of her dad going out with her for walks and knew she would be well taken care of.
Mrs. Sandrelli had given her a warm welcome when she heard her key turn. Tenille had thought she looked careworn, although she claimed to have had a nice family time. Judging by her appearance however, much of the responsibility must have been on her shoulders, leaving her drained. She invited her to visit.
‘Can I make you a cup of tea? Sit here a while.' She indicated the wicker chair.
‘Grazie Bella
, that would be very welcome.'
Tea went down well and Tenille was happy to have company while she unpacked. After her guest had departed it was time to phone Lindsay; let them know she was home safe and check on them. She also gave Carmel and Roger a call. Their time with Russell had been great and Carmel was crazy over the new baby. After all this she felt too tired to do more than make herself a cup of soup and collapse into bed.
First thing the next morning Tenille would have liked to phone Devon, but knew she wouldn't appreciate an early call on Sunday.
It had been worth her patience. Devon had no plans for the evening and invited her for dinner at a new Italian restaurant she had discovered; new to her that was. The Quo Vadis. She would meet her there because she was coming in from out of town.
‘That's cool', Tenille happily assured her. When she hung up she was on cloud nine. She had the day ahead and an evening with Devon to look forward to. What a wonderful world to live in.
She arrived early, finding it more easily than she'd expected. Getting around this city was a breeze. Ordering a Sub Zero, she took in her surroundings. As an eating house, Quo Vadis was very stylish. The decor, unmistakably Italian, highlighted the contrasting colors of green and black. The clean lines, featuring triangles or squares were accentuated by polished chrome. She liked it. Soft, ambient music played in the background. The drink went down too easily and before she knew it, along came a second.
People noticed her at the bar, alone. A few nudges passed between the men and even the wives checked her out while she sat so unselfconsciously, a delight to the eye, lost in anticipation of her imminent meeting. Her sultry good looks were undeniable; hair glossy and sleek, piled high on her head, the Spanish comb in place. This style gave her sophistication, yet emphasized the innocence of her face. It was a combination hard to beat, especially when her whole body radiated a joy of being which simply drew the eye, regardless. Wearing the new shell her grandparents had given her, over a black, long sleeved silk shirt, this time she had her black pants tucked into the new boots.
A time check. She had been early, but now Devon was late. She looked yet again at the front entranceway, willing her to appear … she did. Her heart lurched in her chest; taking her breath away. It was so wonderful seeing her. The pounding inside continued, causing her to hear nothing, see nothing, except this coveted woman coming towards her.
‘Devon,' she breathed, her voice deep and husky.
Devon leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She smelled expensive and looked a million dollars. Her cropped hair was no longer pink, but strawberry blonde. Much better.
‘Tenille, you are a beautiful woman.' She could not hold back from the exclamation. ‘It's so good to see you.' She was as excited as Tenille at their being together again, but outwardly she remained her cool, collected self. She had missed seeing her so much and had broken speed limits to get here, cursing every traffic light which had gone against her.
Their table was ready and the two women moved together, hardly knowing how they accomplished the transition from A. to B. The evening was a great success; the talk non-stop. They devoured each other with their eyes in an orgy of delight, food a secondary consideration.
‘Tenille. Do you remember my telling you about Belen having an annual commitment to put on a show for the Shriners?' She had been smiling, but now her voice took on a serious tone. ‘It's a big fund raising ball at the downtown Sheraton Centre?' Tenille nodded, never taking her gaze from Devon's face.
‘When classes start, she will begin looking for likely candidates for the dances.' Devon took another sip from her wine glass and returned it carefully to the side of her plate. All her movements had a deliberation about them which added weight to the words.
‘I'm still keen for you to be on her short list. I know we never got together before the break and Christmas has resulted in an extended interruption but … are you still interested?'
She leaned forward, her attention keen. ‘Devon, a show. Of course I am.' Concern furrowed her brow. ‘I don't think I can be ready in time.' Her caution was prudent, but the heartfelt hope was for her to be proved wrong.
The viridian eyes narrowed almost to slits. ‘I know what Belen is looking for … and I know you've got it. You work with me and together we can do it.'
‘I don't know.' She caught her bottom lip, still incredulous. She wanted to be a believer, but she couldn't take that extra step. Not yet. She looked back at Devon, perturbed and uncertain, her large, lustrous eyes so dark, so trusting. Devon felt ‘that close' to what she wanted. She continued to urge her objective.
‘Look, I know you have the will to put in the time. You have a quick mind for steps and, above all, you look so right. Do you never dream a little? Wouldn't you like to be a part of this?'
‘Oh Devon, I would.' Her face clouded; how could she doubt her?
‘Well now, classes don't start 'til week after next. Tomorrow is the party.' She was in organizational mode. The iron was hot and she would strike.
‘We'll need Tuesday to recover, so let's say we'll have our first session Wednesday, then we can continue each week after that?' She raised her expressive eyebrows inquiringly to the face before her, suffused and glowing in rapture. When Devon had spoken of this before she had hardly dared hope, now she couldn't hold back the tide of excited anticipation, ready to erupt. Yes, she had had dreams and perhaps now they were going to come true.
*   *   *
Although returning to work was not something to be looked forward to, Tenille's day went fast. Everyone had stories to share, happy to see each other again. Because some were having a two week break, others had to take on extra responsibilities. The day passed rapidly and all were eager to get away on time, it being New Year's Eve.
At home there was a message under her door to call Marissa. She divested herself of work clothes and settled comfortably into an old sweater and track pants. The basement apartment was usually a pleasant temperature, but it could be chilly standing in the hallway on the phone. From where she stood she could hear the Sandrelli's TV. Probably they could hear her too, in the silences.
‘Could I speak to Marissa, please?' … Hi.'
‘Tenille. How are you? How was your Christmas?'
‘Great. Yours?'
‘Good.'
A pregnant silence which she felt impelled to fill. ‘You wanted to speak to me, Marissa.' She was intrigued. Such stilted conversation. What could she want?
‘Yes.' Another silence. Whatever it was she was finding it hard going.
‘Tenille, do you have plans for New Year's?' she asked quickly. ‘Would you like to come over to my house?' Now the words came in a rush. ‘I tried to get you last night. I'm having some of the gang over and I hoped you could come too.' She could hear her breathing hard.
‘Marissa, thank you for thinking of me, but I'm going to a party … at Devon's. Silence again as she digested this.
‘I see.' The voice flattened. ‘Well, I guess I'll see you at class then.' The disappointment was acute. She started to say something then changed her mind.
‘Oh yes, for sure. See you then.' Tenille returned to her room feeling sorry for Marissa. She judged her to be a lonely woman, but she couldn't be in two places at once, not even for her.
Prudence urged her to make a light snack. Just a fried egg, crinkle-cut French fries and frozen peas. After eating, time for a leisurely bath while listening to the radio. Toni Braxton was singing YOUR MAKING ME HIGH. The words made her think of Devon and their evening together. It really had been a magic time. Next came CHILDREN; more like New Age music. It was Robert Miles' dream version, so divergent, it held her attention to the very end.
Devon had arranged for Darren to pick her up at nine o'clock. She hadn't made any suggestions about her wardrobe, so it appeared she had gotten the message. Now she was left with fathoming out how to ring the changes on her scraps in the closet. The beaded top again, but this time with the pants she wore last night. She left her hair down, but tied back at the nape of the neck with a wide, black velvet bow. Not the greatest, she assessed as she checked herself in the mirror, but not bad either.
She dabbed a little
‘Karma Sutra'
behind her ears and at her wrists. She was ready. No jewelry tonight.
Seeing Darren again was a pleasure. He was as charming as ever and the bushy eyebrows were as animated. She hadn't invited him in, meeting at the door as they did, she clutching her shoes in their bag and he making space for her to pass.
‘New coat?' He offered a little peck and took her arm.
‘You noticed. New boots too.' She held up a well-shod foot, under the street lamp.
‘Very nice.'
‘And you?'
‘What I asked for, a sports' pistol, for target practise.'
‘That's unusual. Is it your hobby?'
‘Yes. I've reached competitive level, but it wreaks havoc with my social life. Meets are always on the weekend.' Tenille didn't pursue this.
The party was being held at a friend's house in Deer Park. It was a collaborative effort. Devon had felt she couldn't impose on her parents again, so Justin had offered his place. He turned out to be the
older
man. Tenille wondered what part he played in Devon's life. A pretty important role by the looks of it, she reflected sourly.
Despite starting off feeling a degree of antagonism toward him, she realized he was very personable, with a most delightful house. The decor showed him to be well travelled, favoring the Middle and Far East. Amazement took hold when she discovered the outside totally belied the inside. Exotic rugs, handcrafted artefacts and soft furnishings established their presence throughout. This opulence revealed an eclectic taste of a quirky nature. Gruesome masks stared from the washroom walls. Engraved brass and copper objects were much in evidence, all the while North African music played … torrid and mysterious. She liked it. It was multifarious and fun.
The house was noisy with people. Hosts and guests alike, looked after drinks. The whole atmosphere was more laid back than at Devon's. Tenille felt comfortable here, recognizing faces from before and Darren stayed close. Nelson and Barbara said hello agreeably enough and she let bygones be bygones.
Devon was more in evidence, like a good hostess, circulating and chatting. She caught up with them, but couldn't stay long, leaving Tenille with the cryptic whisper: ‘See you at midnight.' Her outfit was as outrageous as before, only this time the long sleeved, lime-green dress was a full length sheath with a bare mid-riff, top and bottom being joined by straps of fabric. It gave a foreign allure, the dress stopping immediately under her bosom and starting again at the hips. She had decorated her exposed navel-ring with a large jewel and wore tinkling costume bangles.
‘Trust Devon,' Darren remarked sardonically, but the expression on his face was fond.
At the countdown Tenille discovered Devon standing next to her on the other side from Darren. He had expected to claim the first kiss of the New Year, but found himself beaten by her. She had been ready and waiting; he had been counting seconds.
‘Happy New Year.'
Balloons fell from the ceiling; people blew noisemakers and threw streamers. Pandemonium broke out. The music changed to a disco beat and Devon took Tenille off to dance. Darren was left standing at the post, yet again. She gave him a shrug as if to say: ‘Better luck next time,' as the other dancers closed in on them, gyrating in abandon to the powerful beat of Diddy's Jammin' Hot Mix and the DJ Peewee Nic Fish E-pic Mix. Tenille felt drugged by the music … and Devon's presence. She smiled dazzlingly back at her, her brilliant eyes flashing such looks of enchantment, Devon could not mistake the feelings. They danced apart, sometimes bumping into each other, loving the contact, shouting out the words where they could hear them. Not caring about anyone else, existing solely for each other … they were transported.
Eventually Devon supposed she should spread herself around and Tenille went off to get a drink at the makeshift bar. There Darren found her. He had been dancing too and was hot.
‘I thought you guys were never going to leave the floor,' he remarked wryly, taking a long drink from the bottle. ‘Sometimes I don't understand Devon at all,' he continued in a tight, hard voice as he stood, watching the dancers, the eyebrows working overtime. It was obvious he was quite put out.
Tenille laughed, her voice deep and throaty; her face flushed: ‘That makes two of us,' but it was obvious she was not the least out of countenance, quite the reverse.
‘Would you be ready yet to dance again?' He wanted to see Tenille's lithe body moving in front of him and to take pleasure in her beauty. She obliged. The revellers continued to party well on into the night, but she had work the next day. Darren got her home shortly before three. Normally, Mrs. Sandrelli was strict about her lodgers not coming back too late; she had had some bad experiences, but at New Year's … she understood.

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