Outing of the Heart (45 page)

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Authors: Lisa Ann Harper

BOOK: Outing of the Heart
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‘This is serious Reine.' She wanted to be sure Reine understood how momentous this was.
‘OK, what's it about?'
‘Not much to tell really, but let's say there's potential.'
‘Mm..m?'
She gave in a little. ‘Look, it's like this. We're new friends, so I don't know much about her.'
‘Except you think she's pretty hot stuff, but you need more time,' interjected Reine. ‘I know your type. I'm forever telling Thea to stay away from dykes like you.' She gave a deep belly laugh. Reine was always the one who enjoyed her own jokes the most.
‘Reine, quit that. This is pivotal,' she growled. ‘She's a really nice woman. Not like those chicks you tell Thea you're never eyeing up,' she got back. ‘It's just I don't know her background. I suspect she's not out and hasn't mixed much with Lesbians, if at all. I don't want her scared off by someone like Phyl or Dee giving her the hard word.'
‘Mm …m. Get your drift.'
‘I just thought Thea could keep the mood light and sort of act like an early warning system. Apart from which, she'll really like Tenille. She's got a lovely nature and is really fun to be with,' she finished.
‘And of course, that is your unbiased opinion – OK, OK, don't answer that.' Reine took the mirth out of her voice and said: ‘Yes, sure. We'll be happy to help out. I owe you anyway for that little ah … em, scrape I got into. I really appreciate you taking that one on for me. Thea could have gotten very upset over her and I know she wasn't worth a super woman like Thea. So what time are you getting there?'
‘Just about on time. I'm going to pick her up. She doesn't drive and I don't want her turning up to the park before me in case this is a new scene. I didn't really want this to happen, but she pretty well forced my hand.'
‘You, forced?' Reine snorted. ‘Now I've heard everything. This Babe must be someth'n special. I'm looking forward to meeting her. Okay Buddy, time to split. My sandwiches will be curly instead of cheesy.'
Sidonie hung up feeling more confident. Returning to her quarters her step was jaunty and she whistled softly between her teeth. She realized she felt better than she had in a long time.
*   *   *
Tenille watched the movement of the hands on the clock with impatience. She wanted five o'clock in the worst way. She pictured Sidonie sitting in the car, that white shirt with the buttons undone, her strong neck rising from the collar, her light, tawny hair gleaming like minted gold. She longed to feel it. What would it be like to put her hand at the nape of her neck and draw her face towards hers? Closer, she could see her lips …
‘Tenille. Have you finished stacking those boxes?'
The afternoon had been quite cooperative in speeding by and now it was time to pack up. If she was lucky with her connections she could be home and showering in an hour. She seemed to need more time to get ready when she was going to see Sidonie.
Calling out to Mrs. Sandrelli as she let herself in, she hoped there'd been a message. That good lady responded by poking her head round the living room door. ‘No, there's been no phone call today.'
The rest of Serafina followed. ‘Are you expecting some nice young man to ring you? I wouldn't be at all surprised. You look that pretty these days. I was a bit worried about you a while back, but now you look
bellissima.
' Tenille's color rose quickly, but she carried it off with a laugh.
‘Mrs. Sandrelli, what things you say. No I'm not expecting a man to call, I just want to know if I'm going to a softball game tonight.'
‘Oh, you like baseball do you? Furio used to love going to the Skydome to see the Blue Jays. I don't follow myself. I had to live through the World Series when Toronto was playing the Atlanta Braves. It was a relief when the Blue Jays won and we could get on with our lives.'
Tenille had picked up a Mr. Submarine when she'd changed trains at Bloor and now settled down to eat, alert for the phone, wanting to beat Mrs. Sandrelli if possible. Spooning up yoghurt, she thought she heard the buzzing and leaped to her feet, wrenching open the door.
‘Hello'?' she said breathlessly.
‘Hi Tenille.'
‘I thought it would be you,' she responded, words tumbling over themselves. ‘So – we're still on for tonight?'
‘Sure thing. I'll be at your place about six-thirty. Okay?'
‘Yes. Yes, I'll be ready.'
She didn't want Tenille to go yet so she asked about her day. There wasn't much to tell except she'd met Devon for lunch. She had phoned her at work that morning. Sidonie fumed inside. “
She did, did she? What's her angle, I wonder?”
Her voice had a chilliness to it as she said: ‘Oh yes?'
‘Yes, we'd not had time for a chat recently so she thought this would be a good opportunity to catch up. No dance classes, you see.' Quickly she added: ‘But that's not important. Anything I should know about tonight?'
‘The practise goes 'til about eight-thirty. After that some of us drift off for drinks or whatever, for a chat.'
‘Not a problem.' She updated her on the news Devon had passed on to her. ‘Raoul has got bookings for the middle of July, over a three-week period, so I put in for my vacation today. I don't think there will be a problem. Phyllis is going to get back to me tomorrow.'
‘This will be a great opportunity for you.' Sidonie tried to rally her sinking spirits. ‘I can see why you consider this so important. Tenille, I have to go now, someone wants the phone. Catch you later.'
As Sidonie hung up she knew she must face the fact that Tenille had a life of her own. She had no right to consider ruling it, or dictating to her. Her alter ego whispered that she was taking things too much to heart. “
She's an independent woman. She likes you, yes, but you have no place in her life. She wants to be a dancer. Stop wanting to make unreasonable demands.”
Sidonie knew this to be sound advice.
“But I find her stunningly attractive; want to be with her all the time and want desperately to take her to bed.”
“That's no reason for you to behave like some lovesick schmuck. It will only serve to turn her off. And you are worried about the other dykes queering your pitch? It looks like you could do a good job of it all by yourself. Get a grip Sid and grow up.”
While Sidonie got herself ready she selected a Moody Blues CD and played, I KNOW YOU'RE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE. She couldn't resist but follow this with Chris Isaak's, THERE SHE GOES and then his re-make of Roy Orbison's, ONLY THE LONELY. By now she'd be lucky if she could catch a football, let alone a softball.
*   *   *
Before entering the shower, Tenille looked through her closet, trying to decide what would be appropriate to wear for a ball practise. She had no idea what to expect and was fearful of standing out like the proverbial thumb. There were a number of possibilities, but she couldn't make up her mind. Best get in the shower, she thought and then decide.
The day had been hot; the cool shower was relaxing. Thinking over her telephone conversation with Sidonie she wondered if she would always be so … what was the word she wanted … so ‘on edge' with her. Why couldn't she be like the friends she'd had in the past at the hospital, or the new ones she'd made through dancing? There always seemed to be tension between them and she couldn't figure out where it came from. She reached for the shampoo. It was true, sometimes she could be a tad uneasy. She had to acknowledge that, but surely that wasn't enough to make Sidonie go so prickly. Yes, that was it. She was ‘prickly'.
Now that she really thought about it, the change had come since they'd had that spell of separation. Prior to that, she remembered Sidonie had been happy and out-going. Even joking with her and teasing her sometimes. That had been the time when she had really enjoyed being in her company. She had made her feel so good about herself. Sometimes she'd caught a look in her eye that had shown a lot of admiration. Not admiration of her accomplishments, but of herself. Something she'd not felt with anyone else.
She reached for her towel. No, that wasn't quite true. Jerred had had that ability in the beginning, making her feel like that. Yes, in a way, Sidonie's company, her attention, made her feel very aware of herself; as a woman. She liked it. But sometimes it was hard to handle. That was when she'd begun to feel ill at ease. It was this awareness of herself as a woman, a woman whom someone found attractive, that made her tense.
It was funny. She wanted to be with Sidonie all the time, but she didn't necessarily make her feel happy or even content, the goal so many people strove for through drugs or alcohol, or whatever. She made her feel period. There was an intensity to her living she couldn't experience any other way. When she knew she'd pleased her, it felt so good inside.
Looking at Sidonie's face gave her pleasure, too. Those intense, glowing eyes, pierced right through to her core; the lightly tanned skin that crinkled even now, at the corners of her eyes, when she threw her head back in an unselfconscious laugh. Her muscled arms and legs were the color of a ripe apricot, but with a rose's bloom. She had noted the fine blonde hairs on her forearms and legs, details which made her even more desirable.
There was no artfulness in Sidonie's nature. She, herself, could dissemble to a degree. At least make an attempt to keep her feelings from public awareness, but not Sidonie. If she felt it, she showed it.
Their mothers must be very different women. Sidonie would soon have learned how dangerous such self-expression would be around her mother.
“Mom would delight in putting you in your place if she felt you were differing in any measure from her.”
Tenille sighed. That was her mother's way.
She had wanted some time to spend on her hair, now she would have to go with it wet. So much for looking her best. The wide brimmed straw hat might do. She always kept her face shaded anyway. Yes. She would tie a bandana round her hair first, then put on the hat, that way it would dry more controlled than just loose in the wind; she hated tangles. Checking herself in the closet mirror, she burst out laughing at the sight. Not a stitch on, the towel now about her feet and the sun hat. At least no one else could see this.
In the end, she selected a long sleeved, white muslin shirt which would keep her arms protected and since it had two patch pockets in the front, she wouldn't need to wear a bra. On such a hot night like tonight it would feel so much freer. Although she believed her breasts were getting to be a little droopier now than when she was Sidonie's age. They were not overly large, full perhaps, but wouldn't attract attention if left unbound. So far, so good. The skirt, of the same Indian muslin, held by a long tie in front, was a pale turquoise, one of her favorite colors and made her white blouse look all the fresher.
Almost six-thirty. Did she have time to do anything to her face? Mrs. Sandrelli's voice called to her. ‘There's that plan in ruins,' she said under her breath before she called out: ‘Thank you. I'll be right up.' She tied her bandana and jammed on the hat, grabbing her raffia shoulder bag as she rushed upstairs.
‘I might be a bit late, Mrs. Sandrelli. I don't know what time the game will finish. Okay?'
‘Have a good time,
Cara.
Is okay,' Serafina told her, as she came to the door to say goodbye and saw Tenille disappearing down the path towards a blue Tercel. She was seeing that car a lot these days.
“Pity she couldn't find a nice young man to go out with,”
she thought.
“She's such a lovely woman. Those dark looks could turn many a head.”
What a shame, all her nephews were married.
*   *   *
Sidonie had decided to wait by the car today rather than hang about in the hallway. She was leaning back against it, arms folded, as she watched Tenille trip lightly down the steps. The second thing she noticed was that she was not wearing a bra and it immediately gave her a rush of desire which, at this precise moment and for this evening, she could well have done without.
The first thing she had noticed was how lovely she looked in those colors and how the hat suited her. That Spanish one had been good too.
She was glad she had set out with more than enough time to spare. The traffic had been heavy. With the day oppressively sultry, everyone was on the move to find an air-conditioned eating-place. She had skipped on the gym this afternoon, opting to let herself get her fill of sleep, then had awakened feeling refreshed and taken her time getting ready. She had thought to pack a change of clothes in case they did go somewhere afterwards. For now she was wearing a blue muscle shirt and navy stretch bike pants. When the competitive games started, the Riverdale Flyers had their uniform in the team colors of navy and white. Some wag had said they should be named the Riverdale Sailors rather than ‘Flyers'.
Watching her approach, she sensed how Tenille became more desirable each day. So enchanting, the strain on her self-restraint was becoming intolerable. She wasn't sure, despite the earlier resolve, that she could continue the ‘good guy'. She sighed, thinking how in this life it wasn't given to have what you want when you wanted it.
‘Hi there.' she greeted as she opened the door. An exotic attar assailed her senses. An essential oil? She was so close she could reach out and touch her … right now. She closed the door and walked back; taking her seat she turned saying: ‘You are so beautiful.'
Tenille was bowled over. She didn't know what to say, but her body did. The coolness from the shower was lost in an all-encompassing heat, flooding like a tempest through to her dark places. An extraordinary moment of desire, intense and insistent, had pierced her under the ribs and taken her breath away. With Devon it had never been like this.

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