Outing of the Heart (42 page)

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Authors: Lisa Ann Harper

BOOK: Outing of the Heart
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‘I like you a lot.' The words tumbled out in a rush. ‘I'd like to spend more time with you.' With this the porcelain face turned towards her.
‘I'd like that too.' The voice came out as a silver thread, the words hanging, suspended.
Those thickly lashed, intense blue eyes, the pupils once more nearly sea-green in that uncanny light, bore into the woman with an almost palpable force. This time her voice was slow, measured, each word dropped into the silence like one stone at a time into a deep well.
‘I mean … I mean … I … I like you how a man likes a woman.' She continued to look hard, her eyes never wavering from that strained, white countenance.
Tenille did not lower her eyes, although her heart pounded in her ears and her hands, clasped tightly in her lap, were clammy. Could it be after all, she had a special regard for her? Perhaps one that was the same as hers?
“It's not … love, but the attraction is oh, so strong.”
She could hardly get her breath. Turning to look up at the house, then gazing down at her hands she confessed: ‘I've missed you these past weeks, too … I … I like you in the same way. Oh no, not how a man loves a woman, though.' She had to hasten to clarify her words, not to create the wrong impression.
Sidonie let out a deep sigh. She had gone too far, she had been chasing a dream. She should never have spoken. Her whole body ached with regret and her heart squeezed in fear. “
It's done now and can't be un-done,”
her alter ego told her.
“Face it. You blew it. You and your lack of tact. Couldn't you have been more subtle?”
‘I'm sorry Tenille. I shouldn't have told you that about me. And definitely not like that. It's probably a disgusting revelation and certainly something that would have best been left unsaid.' Her voice faded away into a rough murmur, her face awash with anguish as tears ached unshed in her throat.
‘No … No Sidonie, I didn't mean that.'
‘I know what you meant.' The voice had turned rancorous and uncompromising. The eyes narrowed to a steely blue in her bitterness. ‘Your world of dance is so normal, so … so heterosexual. You probably look down on anything that doesn't conform to … to your conventions.' The voice became harsh, more emphatic. ‘Well, let me tell you, there are more of us out there than you would believe.' She determined to have her say now, contemptuous of ridicule, like a coiled fuse, already lit. ‘We're not weird perverts as the trashy papers would have you think.' She paused, her indrawn breath ragged and deep, then went on. ‘I've said I'm sorry. I know my place. I won't bother you again.' She made to open the door, but Tenille arrested her hand. Now she knew she had to get through to this stubborn, volatile girl. She was like a fire, ready to rage out of control.
‘Sidonie. Slow down please,' she entreated.
A nervous pulse beat at Sidonie's neck. She didn't remove her hand from the door, but she didn't keep going either.
‘Don't take on so. You're charging off in all directions. Will you stop for a moment and listen?' There was no mistaking her earnestness.
Sidonie did turn back, but the look was cold; the glittering brilliance of the eyes making Tenille flinch and drop her hand. Could she say now what she wanted to tell her?
“You'd better not stop.”
She could feel this as a defining moment; seated here next to this complex, angry, wrought up young girl whose temper, it was obvious could flare at the slightest provocation. Many layered, with intense emotions that ran deep, she was hard to handle. Was she woman enough, with resources sufficient to deal with someone so changeable? Well, there was too much at stake to back out now.
‘Sidonie,' she said softly, ‘look at me.'
She turned her head reluctantly, fearing some patronizing lecture from this better educated, socially elite woman. She would stop her ears. She must quell this sick feeling of alienation that was threatening to engulf her. “
Oh Tenille … Oh no.”
her heart cried out in desperation, fearing the ultimate rejection.
‘I wanted to say: “Not as a man likes a woman,” but as a woman likes a man.' There now, it was out on her side too. She watched the changing expressions tremble in confusion across Sidonie's face. The vivid eyes, no longer veiled, revealed the impact of this disclosure. Her face too, though still pale, showed cheeks tinged with dark red smudges. A muscle worked in her jaw. What was going through her head at this moment? She was willing herself to divine those unspoken judgements.
She could hardly believe her ears. A wave of dizziness spun her. Rather than the anticipated repulsion and contempt, it had been the reverse. Her mind, caught in a whirlwind of thoughts and her feelings, so jumbled, it was impossible to grapple with them all at once.
‘Aren't you going to speak to me?' Tenille was finally forced to ask. Then she too, fell silent. The women sat together in the confines of the car, that temple of truth, looking outward with their eyes, but totally absorbed in the world of their inner emotions. She wanted to reach out and take Tenille's hand, but couldn't command her body. It sat immobile, her tongue thick in her mouth, too scared to break the strands of these fragile threads, which had suddenly sprung up to bind them. If she voiced her feelings, she ran the risk of shattering the spell which had been cast in the last few moments. But she knew they couldn't go on like this … just sitting here. She brought herself to the point of expressing the obvious.
‘It's late. Why don't I call you tomorrow and we can talk some more, after we've had time to think?'
Tenille sensed this as a dismissal. Her words had been no help then? But she could see she was calmer. Perhaps some sober reflection was what they both needed.
‘Okay. Tomorrow.'
They got out and walked to the trunk. Sidonie opened it up. Reaching for Tenille's grip, their hands accidentally brushed, making them pull away as if stung, embarrassed by the contact. Sidonie experienced an electric bolt, sending shock waves through her and her body began to shake.
‘You got it?' she asked gruffly, as Tenille hefted the bag to the ground.
‘Yes.'
She moved back to the sidewalk as the girl slammed the trunk closed and lurched round to the driver's seat. She thought she looked anxious to be gone as she fumbled with the door. She wanted to wave goodbye, but didn't raise her hand. Sidonie would leave her at the side of the road without a backward glance. Sadly, she picked up her grip and walked slowly up the path, each step a dragging effort.
Sidonie drove carefully down the street and turned right at the first corner continuing until she found an opening and pulled in. Killing the motor, she let out a great sigh. Forearms across the wheel, she leaned her head on them and closed her eyes, finally resting her body. She'd been so tense; she needed this respite before making the journey home. She was rung out. So many thoughts had been churning through her mind these past days; living on her emotions, nerves stretched to breaking point. Now at last, she could let go. She sat back to rest her head on the seat, returning her hands to each thigh.
‘What were the words Tenille had said?' “ …
how a man likes a woman.”
Not that part, stupid,' she scolded herself impatiently: ‘The other bit, when her voice was all soft and velvety, caressing almost. When she looked into my eyes and said … yes that's the part:
“As a woman likes a man.”'
She groaned as she remembered. Great Goddess Sophia. She had said that to her? …The very words she had always hoped for. Well, almost. She hadn't said: ‘Loves', but the window had been opened. Not even: “
As a woman likes a woman.”
There could have been doubt there. She said aloud to the ears of the night: ‘Tenille, you are the answer to all my fantasies. Oh woman. How I can love you. I know I can be the one to make all your dreams come true.' She knew there had been something special about her. ‘I just know you can be awakened,' she breathed softly. ‘In my heart I know you. Know you intimately.' She recalled seeing her naked body in the sauna that day and how she had responded to the sight of it. Tenille had been very modest and obviously uncomfortable, carrying on a conversation under such circumstances, but she, Sid, had persisted. She resumed the dialogue with her alter ego.

You were very bad that day, Sid. You knew what you were doing.”
“But I also felt she wanted to be talking to me too,”
she objected hotly, in her defence.
“You know you embarrassed the hell out of her in the gym as well, leaning over her, so close, when she was lying on her back. You're just a gigolo,”
the voice sang out.
“I was love-lorn and heart-sick”
she told her alter ego soberly.
Time to go. She'd be lucky if she didn't sleep through the alarm as it was. She eased into gear and took her time. It was a safe, responsible drive back to the track. She had too much to lose.
*   *   *
Sidonie's heart was banging hard against her ribs. She had spent a lot of time dwelling on the matter of this call. Despite that, she hadn't collected her ideas together for this verbal meeting. The time was at hand and at any instant, she would be hearing that voice which had haunted her every waking moment.
‘She doesn't seem to be home yet. Can I give message?' asked the man.
Her disappointment was overwhelming. Why hadn't she considered such a possibility? Wait, was Monday one of her practise nights?
‘Do you expect her in soon or does she have a class tonight?'
‘Er..r, is Caravan. Can she call you?'
‘No. Thank you. I'll try again later.' As she hung up, she noticed the hand piece slippery from her nervousness. She was at the gym and had been toying with the idea of dropping into The Woman's Common; picking Tenille up and going for a meal. Well, that wasn't do-able. She'd drive over to 519 instead, check the notice boards and she could phone from there. She'd be downtown anyway.
Back to her workout. The routine had a settling effect. She needed to put in some good sessions. The Amazons' Competition was only two months away and the last few weeks would fly. She moved on to the leg weights, remembering that first day when she had helped Tenille. It made her heart race.
“Sid, you always play it cool, but inside you panic.”
“Cut that out, I'm not talking to you today. You don't help.”
She finished up pleased with the session. She had been in the zone, the weights building well; definite improvement in her lifting technique. She would have Serena spot for her, then she'd return the favor. Sometimes it would be Kelly. They were all coming along. It was as though this was the run down to the home stretch and their encouragement of each other just provided that extra incentive.
The swim was even better. The water felt good. Her muscles and joints welcomed the change in their activity. The unwind seemed to bring the different components back together, working in harmonious co-ordination. She was looking good too. The right amount of muscle development, smoothed out by her youthful layer of fat. She was well defined, but not too hard to the touch. Upgrading her diet to a higher protein intake had helped and now she was pushing the carbohydrates. Yes, it was all coming together nicely.
The water was beginning to work its magic. She let her mind enjoy the mental images of lamplight falling across sculptured planes, of eyes made even darker by uncertainty. She remembered the depth of penetration of those eyes as they had turned towards her, just before the lips had spoken so softly and sincerely. She remembered that split second touch, standing by the trunk. It brought another spasm of intense feeling to the pit of her stomach and she surged forward through the water as though all the dogs of Hades were snapping at her heels.
Worn out, as much by mental activity as the physical, she turned and swam two more leisurely lengths of backstroke, trying to return to some sort of equilibrium. Yes. This woman was unbalancing her, big time. She'd never been thrown into such a spin over a pretty face.
“But Tenille isn't just a pretty face. She's stunning, far beyond prettiness”
A face full of character, with the power to draw the gaze time and again, until caught completely under its spell. She recalled watching her dance and the excitement she had experienced when she had let her hips accentuate the beat as her heels had marked the complex rhythms. Her dress outlined the curve of her breasts and when she raised her arms, in that fluid way she had, they had been revealed as exciting and seductive. She knew she was spellbound. But not only that; the clamouring force of her desire was making her body harder and harder to control. She was being driven mad by her passions, but she couldn't let control slip, much as she longed to abandon herself to the physical touch of those beautiful breasts and thighs. To feel the pressure of that soft, rounded belly next to hers: to press her pelvis against the inviting mounds of her bottom, bending her over in front of her, the better to thrust …
If this swim was supposed to be her cool down, she had better stop this; get her mind back on track. Pulling herself out of the water, she checked her watch. The iridescent hands told her it was time to shower and dress. No sauna today; couldn't keep still long enough. She would phone again here and if no luck, try from downtown.
Mrs. Sandrelli answered. She explained that Tenille probably wouldn't be back 'til late, she was involved in Caravan.
‘I don't answer the telephone after ten o'clock. I in bed. I get up early, you understand?' She didn't want to sound unreasonable.
‘Yes, I understand. I'll try tomorrow. Good night.' Too disappointed, but she didn't want to upset the landlady. Tenille must have forgotten to tell her about this. Well, she had mentioned Toronto Caravan, but no detail. Changing her plan again she decided on an early night. Really, she needed one after yesterday. If she wasn't careful she would develop bags under her eyes.
“Old before my time,”
she thought:
“Then she won't find me attractive. Well, I hope she finds me attractive.”

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