Outing of the Heart (37 page)
Read Outing of the Heart Online
Authors: Lisa Ann Harper
âA penny for your thoughts.'
The voice broke into her reverie. Sidonie had watched the dejected and wistful expressions passing over the delicate face and divined brooding thoughts of despondency, relived through the prism of private experience. To begin, she had felt like an intruder, following that kaleidoscope of personal emotions superseding each other. However, as the mood had darkened, she had decided perhaps it was time this brown study came to an end.
âGee, I'm sorry. How rude of me. My thoughts? Oh, you wouldn't be interested in them. It was nothing.' She took another sip.
âNow Tenille, there you go again.' Sidonie looked sternly at her. âYou don't know that, unless you try me. Anyway, I don't want to pry, but I'd like you to feel free to express yourself. Do you hear me?' At these words, Tenille's head shot up. She looked into Sidonie's eyes, now almost violet in the subdued light. She wasn't used to being spoken to like this. She didn't mind though, there had been a world of understanding in her voice and she had meant it well.
âNow I'm not talking for my health's sake. But I've been through some bad times and I can recognize the signs of a soul, if not exactly in torment, at least not at ease.' She drank some Coke then sat back, leaving her glass on the table and continued to regard Tenille with a level, steady gaze.
âThere was someone there for me, one time. I know how much that support and concern helped me in my misery. This may not be the time and place for you to talk but remember â¦' and now she smiled, returning to the teenager she was: âI'll always be ready to lend you a helping hand.' This time she laughed: âOr a helping shoulder, for that matter. You've seen them, you know they're broad enough.' Inwardly she was thinking: “
I should be so lucky.”
âCool?'
âYes. Cool.' Tenille shrugged off her wretchedness, making an effort to be less morose. âI do hear you, but tonight we've talked so much about me. Don't you think it would be fair for you to have your turn?'
Sidonie told her a little of her background: her Ma being separated: Billy and Chelsey, but didn't go into detail, keeping it vague. She didn't know Tenille well enough and wouldn't risk saying anything that might turn her off. She loved her family very much, but she knew they would be totally different from anything she was familiar with. What a Judas. It didn't sit well. She moved from them and talked instead about her mother. âShe wants the best for me and, if it means I can't support her as much as I could if I were in the regular work force, then she's willing to accept it.' She looked down then up.
âShe understood a good education is more important for a woman than a man. Not, as it has long been held, that it's the boy who should go to University. A woman needs a profession or a good position if she is to live alone; especially if she's a single mother. Again, to avoid victimization or manipulation. Above all she needs her independence. Ma's encouragement has been unceasing.' She paused briefly, then continued.
âI feel badly I don't see Ma as much as she would like. I send her money regularly to help out, so we have a reasonably amicable arrangement. I visit once a month which gives her a bit of a break. She does get quite tired.'
âDoes your mother work?'
âYes. She has always worked. Being the eldest this has meant I had to look after the kids 'til she got home and usually I got dinner. Those were hard years and I had to grow up fast, but they were good years too. I always felt close to Ma.'
How different from her own sentiments Tenille thought. She envied this girl her family, even if life had been harder.
Sidonie began talking about herself. âI started to earn money early, to help out by taking on a paper route. The boys in the neighborhood knew we needed the dough, it wasn't just for my pocket. So they didn't pick on me too much. Just enough to be sure I knew my place and who was boss. Later we became good buddies and it continued like that until high school. In a way, I grew up feeling like one of them. Changing to high school I had to make new friends and somehow was never able to fit in so well.' Tenille looked concerned.
âOh, it was all right. It didn't really matter. Ma and me, we knew if I were going to âmake it', then I'd have to use my smarts. I sure couldn't use my face.' She smiled ruefully.
âNow who's putting herself down?' Tenille interjected. âI think you have a face of considerable character.'
âYeah, that's what I mean, character, but no beauty ⦠and character doesn't count in that big, nasty world out there,' she acknowledged with conviction.
Tenille looked directly into the face across the table and said: âIn my world character counts for more than beauty. Beauty is only skin deep, character goes right through to the heart.' Fleetingly, her mind gave her a cameo of Devon as she had seen her at the New Year's party, then it was gone. âAnyway, I'm not saying character means ugly. One could soon tire of vapid prettiness if one had to see it day after day.' She stopped and was held by Sidonie's intense gaze. Her eyes positively burned into her, plunging to the very core of her being. She continued falteringly as something stirred inside her: âI think your face is very ⦠handsome.' At this her voice trailed away and she dropped her eyes, veiling them behind her thick, lustrous lashes.
They both sat silent now, turning to look at the night sky, arching over the twinkling city, lost in their own thoughts. Sidonie didn't want to be talking about herself. She didn't feel her past life would create a good impression. Her brusque voice stated: âIt's time I got you home.'
âYes. And you'll have had no time for sleep,' observed a remorseful voice. âI've kept you up far too late.'
â I'm a big girl, Tenille. I can look after myself. I can pick and choose when I go to sleep,' was the sharp reprimand.
Tenille felt it and apologized contritely. âSorry, I didn't mean anything by that.' Distress showed on her grave face.
âIt's OK ⦠don't take on, I just don't want you to treat me like a child, that's all.' She felt badly now she'd upset her.
âOh, Sidonie, that's the last way I feel about you,' she exclaimed.
âGood. Well that's settled then.' “
How did she feel about her?”
she thought silently. âCollect your things and we'll go down.'
She left a generous tip, then stood decisively and stalked across the now nearly empty lounge to the elevator. Tenille followed at a slower pace, reflectively. One other couple rode down with them, totally involved with each other, but no one spoke. At ground level they followed them to the lobby.
âI can see from your expression that you're still upset,' Sidonie said. âDon't be,' she pleaded. âI'd hate for us to part on bad terms.' Outside, in the bracing night wind, they huddled into their jackets but did not walk any faster. Tenille liked how Sidonie looked dressed in leather. She found it very attractive; very different. It gave her a special âsomething' she was not able to define. She only knew she liked it ⦠a lot.
âTenille, tell me you're not going to stay upset.'
âNo. I'm not upset. Honestly.' A quick glance then she looked back at the sidewalk. âJust for a moment I felt mad at myself ⦠not you, for making you feel I was belittling you. I don't ever want you to think I would do that.' Again she looked up. âI respect you far too much. You have accomplished so much in your life already. In comparison, I've coasted along; pampered and protected.'
They reached the car and Sidonie searched for her keys, unlocked Tenille's door and made for the driver's side. A U-turn headed them back to Bay St.
âI get used to late nights on the weekend. My job finishes at noon, so I can play catch up later if need be.' She turned left at Bloor, continuing west until she reached the Walmer Road turn off.
âWhich number is it, again?'
â#226. Just here.'
She pulled into the curb, cut the engine, then retrieved the suitcase. She didn't want to let her go without fixing up something for another time, but felt too constrained to allow herself freedom to act. She waited in silence while the woman opened her purse and collected the keys.
âThis is a special night when my landlady isn't going to check on me. Usually she's strict about when I come home. I think she looks upon herself as a surrogate mother.'
They stood together in the yellow pool of light from the single street lamp, neither ready to say goodbye. Tenille smiled. âI don't mind her fussing; I appreciate that she cares. Anyway, I'm not usually a night bird so there's no bother.' She then gave the girl a curiously intense stare. âAfter what you've told me tonight, I'm beginning to think perhaps I should meet life more âhead on'. Thank you again for helping me out. Good night.' She picked up the case and walked to the front steps, turning to wave at the open door. Sidonie was still standing where she had left her, by the side of the trunk watching.
She headed off towards the 401. No date fixed. Would Tenille be too tired for the gym tomorrow? Once again the big rigs, trundling inexorably through the night, kept her company. She liked driving like this, in the âwee small hours', foot down, her mind roaming where it may. Tonight it was definitely on this disturbing woman. She ached to touch her. To feel her shape against her body; to stroke her cheek; touch her lips with her own, they looked so soft. She remembered how Tenille had tilted her head as she had looked up at her quickly one time; how her dark brown eyes had flashed in the flickering, ethereal light of the candle; her profile as she'd gazed out the window at Stop 33, taking in the stars and the city. How exquisitely beautiful had been the curve of her neck and throat as it rose from the open cowl of the sweater, its roseate colors enhancing the almond shades of her skin. A thought, hastily repressed:
“She must be that color all over.”
âBelfield,' she exclaimed, as she almost drove past. She should save this dreaming for when she was in bed, not driving at high speeds. She looked at her gas gauge and was tempted to go to the 24-hour Petrocan. Maybe not, she would have time tomorrow. Only two hours' sleep as it was. She slipped into her parking spot and hurried to the checkpoint.
Oh ⦠to shower. But the faucets banged too much throughout the residence, the system being antiquated and in its decrepitude made its presence felt, long and loud. Once between the sheets she let her body relax. She knew she could bring sexual release from her urgent loneliness, but really didn't want that solitary experience. She had to acknowledge it was most unlikely she would ever get together with this woman, physically that is. Almost certainly straight, apart from that one opinion of Raoul; nothing in all her life to give indications of lesbianism. Also ⦠she didn't strike her as the kind of woman who would be interested in sexual experimentation, just for novelty. More the old fashioned type, fervent when it came to commitment, with an underlying earnestness. Not into sexual games. Anyway, was that what she herself wanted? A roll and a stretch.
“Be honest, Sid. You're getting serious about this one.
” Eventually she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, knowing she didn't have much time. If all women were Lesbian and the Straights had to pick their way through the explosive minefield of uncertainty and error, wouldn't that make for a nice change? She was night dreaming at last.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Sidonie definitely did not want to open her eyes when the alarm called her to order. She was tempted to shut it off. It was her fault she felt like this. The thought of getting back home at noontime was the beacon that drove her on. She investigated her face after the shower ⦠damn. Fortunately youth was on her side.
Mornings were milder now, the sky developing some of its summer haziness, the high flung canopy blurring winter's sharp clarity. A light breeze fanned her cheeks, but she noticed little of her surroundings or the new smells of spring, too wrapped in her own thoughts to spare a glance at the changing season. During work she mulled over the situation and came to the conclusion she needed advice. She would call Milka.
With two quarters from her little mailbox, she went round to the phones.
âEdina, Sid. How are you?'
Edina was happy to hear her voice. Milka was out. âCan I get her to give you a call?'
âNo. You know I can't receive calls here.'
âYes sorry. You want to call back ⦠say in about an hour?'
âFine.'
âEverything okay with you â¦?'
âMm..m. Talk to you later.' She returned to her room with the intention of just a brief nap. Half an hour would recharge her. At almost two o'clock, she awoke with a start, not pleased. She must have slept through the radio.
Milka found her not very coherent. At the moment, what she was saying sounded like gobbledygook. âNow just slow down here and it's a good idea to start at the beginning.'
âMilka. I need to talk to you. I'm in a fix.'
âYou in trouble with the police again?' she asked suspiciously.
âNo, nothing like that. And anyway â last time it was nothing to do with me. Bloody hell. I just got rounded up with the others,' she protested, indignantly.
âOK, OK. No need to bite my head off. You big bear, you're not talking to a Gomer. So what fix are you in. You want I come round?'
âNo Milka. Sorry about flying off. I'm really tired just now. It's a very short fuse. No, I'll drive out if that's all right with you, after the gym. I need advice on a ⦠a personal matter.'
âOh, I see. An
âaffaire de la coeur'
. This is just up my alley. You know me. I've such vast experience. Isn't that right, Eddie?' Sidonie couldn't hear the reply, but the laughter and warm feeling came clearly down the line.
The voice broke into her reverie. Sidonie had watched the dejected and wistful expressions passing over the delicate face and divined brooding thoughts of despondency, relived through the prism of private experience. To begin, she had felt like an intruder, following that kaleidoscope of personal emotions superseding each other. However, as the mood had darkened, she had decided perhaps it was time this brown study came to an end.
âGee, I'm sorry. How rude of me. My thoughts? Oh, you wouldn't be interested in them. It was nothing.' She took another sip.
âNow Tenille, there you go again.' Sidonie looked sternly at her. âYou don't know that, unless you try me. Anyway, I don't want to pry, but I'd like you to feel free to express yourself. Do you hear me?' At these words, Tenille's head shot up. She looked into Sidonie's eyes, now almost violet in the subdued light. She wasn't used to being spoken to like this. She didn't mind though, there had been a world of understanding in her voice and she had meant it well.
âNow I'm not talking for my health's sake. But I've been through some bad times and I can recognize the signs of a soul, if not exactly in torment, at least not at ease.' She drank some Coke then sat back, leaving her glass on the table and continued to regard Tenille with a level, steady gaze.
âThere was someone there for me, one time. I know how much that support and concern helped me in my misery. This may not be the time and place for you to talk but remember â¦' and now she smiled, returning to the teenager she was: âI'll always be ready to lend you a helping hand.' This time she laughed: âOr a helping shoulder, for that matter. You've seen them, you know they're broad enough.' Inwardly she was thinking: “
I should be so lucky.”
âCool?'
âYes. Cool.' Tenille shrugged off her wretchedness, making an effort to be less morose. âI do hear you, but tonight we've talked so much about me. Don't you think it would be fair for you to have your turn?'
Sidonie told her a little of her background: her Ma being separated: Billy and Chelsey, but didn't go into detail, keeping it vague. She didn't know Tenille well enough and wouldn't risk saying anything that might turn her off. She loved her family very much, but she knew they would be totally different from anything she was familiar with. What a Judas. It didn't sit well. She moved from them and talked instead about her mother. âShe wants the best for me and, if it means I can't support her as much as I could if I were in the regular work force, then she's willing to accept it.' She looked down then up.
âShe understood a good education is more important for a woman than a man. Not, as it has long been held, that it's the boy who should go to University. A woman needs a profession or a good position if she is to live alone; especially if she's a single mother. Again, to avoid victimization or manipulation. Above all she needs her independence. Ma's encouragement has been unceasing.' She paused briefly, then continued.
âI feel badly I don't see Ma as much as she would like. I send her money regularly to help out, so we have a reasonably amicable arrangement. I visit once a month which gives her a bit of a break. She does get quite tired.'
âDoes your mother work?'
âYes. She has always worked. Being the eldest this has meant I had to look after the kids 'til she got home and usually I got dinner. Those were hard years and I had to grow up fast, but they were good years too. I always felt close to Ma.'
How different from her own sentiments Tenille thought. She envied this girl her family, even if life had been harder.
Sidonie began talking about herself. âI started to earn money early, to help out by taking on a paper route. The boys in the neighborhood knew we needed the dough, it wasn't just for my pocket. So they didn't pick on me too much. Just enough to be sure I knew my place and who was boss. Later we became good buddies and it continued like that until high school. In a way, I grew up feeling like one of them. Changing to high school I had to make new friends and somehow was never able to fit in so well.' Tenille looked concerned.
âOh, it was all right. It didn't really matter. Ma and me, we knew if I were going to âmake it', then I'd have to use my smarts. I sure couldn't use my face.' She smiled ruefully.
âNow who's putting herself down?' Tenille interjected. âI think you have a face of considerable character.'
âYeah, that's what I mean, character, but no beauty ⦠and character doesn't count in that big, nasty world out there,' she acknowledged with conviction.
Tenille looked directly into the face across the table and said: âIn my world character counts for more than beauty. Beauty is only skin deep, character goes right through to the heart.' Fleetingly, her mind gave her a cameo of Devon as she had seen her at the New Year's party, then it was gone. âAnyway, I'm not saying character means ugly. One could soon tire of vapid prettiness if one had to see it day after day.' She stopped and was held by Sidonie's intense gaze. Her eyes positively burned into her, plunging to the very core of her being. She continued falteringly as something stirred inside her: âI think your face is very ⦠handsome.' At this her voice trailed away and she dropped her eyes, veiling them behind her thick, lustrous lashes.
They both sat silent now, turning to look at the night sky, arching over the twinkling city, lost in their own thoughts. Sidonie didn't want to be talking about herself. She didn't feel her past life would create a good impression. Her brusque voice stated: âIt's time I got you home.'
âYes. And you'll have had no time for sleep,' observed a remorseful voice. âI've kept you up far too late.'
â I'm a big girl, Tenille. I can look after myself. I can pick and choose when I go to sleep,' was the sharp reprimand.
Tenille felt it and apologized contritely. âSorry, I didn't mean anything by that.' Distress showed on her grave face.
âIt's OK ⦠don't take on, I just don't want you to treat me like a child, that's all.' She felt badly now she'd upset her.
âOh, Sidonie, that's the last way I feel about you,' she exclaimed.
âGood. Well that's settled then.' “
How did she feel about her?”
she thought silently. âCollect your things and we'll go down.'
She left a generous tip, then stood decisively and stalked across the now nearly empty lounge to the elevator. Tenille followed at a slower pace, reflectively. One other couple rode down with them, totally involved with each other, but no one spoke. At ground level they followed them to the lobby.
âI can see from your expression that you're still upset,' Sidonie said. âDon't be,' she pleaded. âI'd hate for us to part on bad terms.' Outside, in the bracing night wind, they huddled into their jackets but did not walk any faster. Tenille liked how Sidonie looked dressed in leather. She found it very attractive; very different. It gave her a special âsomething' she was not able to define. She only knew she liked it ⦠a lot.
âTenille, tell me you're not going to stay upset.'
âNo. I'm not upset. Honestly.' A quick glance then she looked back at the sidewalk. âJust for a moment I felt mad at myself ⦠not you, for making you feel I was belittling you. I don't ever want you to think I would do that.' Again she looked up. âI respect you far too much. You have accomplished so much in your life already. In comparison, I've coasted along; pampered and protected.'
They reached the car and Sidonie searched for her keys, unlocked Tenille's door and made for the driver's side. A U-turn headed them back to Bay St.
âI get used to late nights on the weekend. My job finishes at noon, so I can play catch up later if need be.' She turned left at Bloor, continuing west until she reached the Walmer Road turn off.
âWhich number is it, again?'
â#226. Just here.'
She pulled into the curb, cut the engine, then retrieved the suitcase. She didn't want to let her go without fixing up something for another time, but felt too constrained to allow herself freedom to act. She waited in silence while the woman opened her purse and collected the keys.
âThis is a special night when my landlady isn't going to check on me. Usually she's strict about when I come home. I think she looks upon herself as a surrogate mother.'
They stood together in the yellow pool of light from the single street lamp, neither ready to say goodbye. Tenille smiled. âI don't mind her fussing; I appreciate that she cares. Anyway, I'm not usually a night bird so there's no bother.' She then gave the girl a curiously intense stare. âAfter what you've told me tonight, I'm beginning to think perhaps I should meet life more âhead on'. Thank you again for helping me out. Good night.' She picked up the case and walked to the front steps, turning to wave at the open door. Sidonie was still standing where she had left her, by the side of the trunk watching.
She headed off towards the 401. No date fixed. Would Tenille be too tired for the gym tomorrow? Once again the big rigs, trundling inexorably through the night, kept her company. She liked driving like this, in the âwee small hours', foot down, her mind roaming where it may. Tonight it was definitely on this disturbing woman. She ached to touch her. To feel her shape against her body; to stroke her cheek; touch her lips with her own, they looked so soft. She remembered how Tenille had tilted her head as she had looked up at her quickly one time; how her dark brown eyes had flashed in the flickering, ethereal light of the candle; her profile as she'd gazed out the window at Stop 33, taking in the stars and the city. How exquisitely beautiful had been the curve of her neck and throat as it rose from the open cowl of the sweater, its roseate colors enhancing the almond shades of her skin. A thought, hastily repressed:
“She must be that color all over.”
âBelfield,' she exclaimed, as she almost drove past. She should save this dreaming for when she was in bed, not driving at high speeds. She looked at her gas gauge and was tempted to go to the 24-hour Petrocan. Maybe not, she would have time tomorrow. Only two hours' sleep as it was. She slipped into her parking spot and hurried to the checkpoint.
Oh ⦠to shower. But the faucets banged too much throughout the residence, the system being antiquated and in its decrepitude made its presence felt, long and loud. Once between the sheets she let her body relax. She knew she could bring sexual release from her urgent loneliness, but really didn't want that solitary experience. She had to acknowledge it was most unlikely she would ever get together with this woman, physically that is. Almost certainly straight, apart from that one opinion of Raoul; nothing in all her life to give indications of lesbianism. Also ⦠she didn't strike her as the kind of woman who would be interested in sexual experimentation, just for novelty. More the old fashioned type, fervent when it came to commitment, with an underlying earnestness. Not into sexual games. Anyway, was that what she herself wanted? A roll and a stretch.
“Be honest, Sid. You're getting serious about this one.
” Eventually she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, knowing she didn't have much time. If all women were Lesbian and the Straights had to pick their way through the explosive minefield of uncertainty and error, wouldn't that make for a nice change? She was night dreaming at last.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Sidonie definitely did not want to open her eyes when the alarm called her to order. She was tempted to shut it off. It was her fault she felt like this. The thought of getting back home at noontime was the beacon that drove her on. She investigated her face after the shower ⦠damn. Fortunately youth was on her side.
Mornings were milder now, the sky developing some of its summer haziness, the high flung canopy blurring winter's sharp clarity. A light breeze fanned her cheeks, but she noticed little of her surroundings or the new smells of spring, too wrapped in her own thoughts to spare a glance at the changing season. During work she mulled over the situation and came to the conclusion she needed advice. She would call Milka.
With two quarters from her little mailbox, she went round to the phones.
âEdina, Sid. How are you?'
Edina was happy to hear her voice. Milka was out. âCan I get her to give you a call?'
âNo. You know I can't receive calls here.'
âYes sorry. You want to call back ⦠say in about an hour?'
âFine.'
âEverything okay with you â¦?'
âMm..m. Talk to you later.' She returned to her room with the intention of just a brief nap. Half an hour would recharge her. At almost two o'clock, she awoke with a start, not pleased. She must have slept through the radio.
Milka found her not very coherent. At the moment, what she was saying sounded like gobbledygook. âNow just slow down here and it's a good idea to start at the beginning.'
âMilka. I need to talk to you. I'm in a fix.'
âYou in trouble with the police again?' she asked suspiciously.
âNo, nothing like that. And anyway â last time it was nothing to do with me. Bloody hell. I just got rounded up with the others,' she protested, indignantly.
âOK, OK. No need to bite my head off. You big bear, you're not talking to a Gomer. So what fix are you in. You want I come round?'
âNo Milka. Sorry about flying off. I'm really tired just now. It's a very short fuse. No, I'll drive out if that's all right with you, after the gym. I need advice on a ⦠a personal matter.'
âOh, I see. An
âaffaire de la coeur'
. This is just up my alley. You know me. I've such vast experience. Isn't that right, Eddie?' Sidonie couldn't hear the reply, but the laughter and warm feeling came clearly down the line.
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