Outing of the Heart (72 page)
Read Outing of the Heart Online
Authors: Lisa Ann Harper
âYou sound like my Ma, Mr. Fenech. She always told me to get my priorities clearly worked out and to know the difference between a bit of fun and life-long security. You see, she had nothing. Married too young and did it the hard way, bringing up three kids on her own. I'm the eldest, so as soon as I was able to help out, I had to look after the little ones while Ma went to work. She used to work all hours ⦠afternoons, nights. I would get our dinner together, then settle down to my homework. I wasn't free to go out and play because of babysitting Billy and Chelsey, but it worked out OK, 'cause it resulted in good marks at school and the discipline to get me my entrance to George Brown.'
She looked across at him and saw he was still listening attentively. âMam always encouraged me too. She'd ask me questions about my homework â what I was studying and that. Although she didn't know what I was talking about, I always felt the sincerity of her interest.'
âAnd how does your mother manage now?' Alexander asked. This was a life story he was not in the habit of encountering in his world.
âIt's easier for her now. The youngest is thirteen. She's got a Government house, so less money goes on rent. Also, I earn pretty good, so I can send her something every two weeks.'
âThat's excellent, Sidonie,' he admired. âI can see you're a very capable young lady.'
âI'd like to be able to accept your good words, Mr. Fenech, but I have to admit, I'm living in subsidized rental, so I only have to pay $50:00 a week. Yes, it's all worked out very well for me,' she acknowledged with satisfaction. âBut I don't take my position in life for granted. I know I could've come under the influence of timewasters and joy riders. I've heard of other girls from my neighborhood who've fallen out with their families and now are on the streets, relying on their peers for support. The lifestyle is a hard and bitter one. There seems little to look forward to in their future except more of the same or perhaps worse.'
As the end of the day drew near, the last exchanges of the Redwings began to fill the air. The twilight softened the features of Sidonie's face and Alexander noticed the contrasting brilliance of her eyes with the warm, sun bronzed tones of her skin.
“She really is a striking looking young woman,”
he thought. At first glance one would dismiss her, but there were depths here which one could spend considerable time exploring.
“Yes,”
he mused,
“a very good companion for my little girl. Despite her youth she has experienced life in a way quite beyond Tennie's limited exposure. I like her a lot,”
he acknowledged to himself. He hoped the two of them would develop a firm friendship. He knew Tenille needed someone in her life with whom she could share.
As they approached the back door, the scent of Lime trees filled the mild evening air. Alexander sneezed. âI love the fragrance, but I'm afraid it's no good for my sinuses.' He got out his handkerchief. âBut I wouldn't have the trees cut down ⦠never.' he ended emphatically.
The kitchen was a hive of activity on their return, mother and daughter busy with dinner preparations and the smell of the lime flowers was replaced by the mouth watering aroma of pork chops, simmering in an orange sauce. Doris continued on about her tasks, but Tenille stopped her chore of peeling apples for the pie and greeted her two favorite people with a warm smile. Betsy had to remain in her special area, a covered-in space just outside the back door, until invited. The kitchen was definitely out of bounds at meal time.
âWhere've you two been? Was dad showing you the garden?' She turned toward Sidonie on this last, her eyes sparkling.
âYes â¦' he replied, as he took a seat at the table, â â¦and she liked the wild part too.'
âI'm surprised to see you up already Ten,' Sidonie smiled back as she stood to the side of her chair and looked down, noticing how shiny her hair was now. She wanted to reach out and touch it, but not here. âSo soon out of hospital it could be a good idea to get an early night tonight.' Tenille was still looking up at her and simply nodded her agreement.
Sidonie turned to Mrs. Fenech. âIs there anything I can do to help? I'm good at laying tables and fetching and carrying.'
âOh, are you a waitress then?' Doris asked derisively, thinking this would be just the sort of work she'd expect from someone like her. A shocked silence hung in the room. All eyes turned to Doris at the kitchen sink where she was washing and slicing string beans. At last Tenille broke into the amazement with: âNo Mom.' Her voice had a longsuffering tone. âSidonie is a very helpful person, that's all,' forced to her defence. Really, sometimes she could be too much. âShe's quite a good cook too,' she endorsed: âOnce you pin her down,' she amended truthfully. She was hoping to take the sting out of her mother's words. She'd noticed how her dad had squirmed. Sidonie said nothing, taking a seat at the table, feeling it best to leave well enough alone.
Doris, to defuse the tension, decided to play the gracious host.
“Really, so much fuss over nothing.”
She declined Sidonie's offer and suggested instead her husband open the bar.
âGood idea,' he responded cordially, relieved to have the moment over and something to do. âWhat can I offer you,' he enquired amiably of Sidonie. She looked a little taken aback, not knowing quite what to say. She was used to being offered a beer, but in this household her confidence was slipping and she wasn't sure if she should be asking for some sort of cocktail. Open the bar?
Tenille came to her rescue again. âSid likes light beer Dad. Old Vienna if you've got it.' She looked inquiringly across to see if she had the right one.
âYes, that's my brew, otherwise any one will do.' She smiled her thanks. She would give Mrs. Fenech the benefit of the doubt. Anyway, there was nothing wrong with waitressing. She had in fact done a stint of it, when she'd been anxious to complete her car payments. It was just the way Mrs. Fenech had said it.
âSorry Sidonie. Will Labbatts Blue do you for now? I'll pop to the beer store tomorrow. I've got a load of empties to return, anyway.'
âNo problem, Labbatts is fine. I don't want to put you to any trouble,' she said disarmingly.
âIt's no trouble, I pass right by it. Now Tennie,' he turned his attention to his daughter: âWhat do you fancy tonight? Your first evening home, the sky's the limit.'
She could see her dad's excitement. He enjoyed being bartender. It was something his wife didn't complain about, so he could do it without censure.
âI'm on medication Dad, so I'll just have a mineral water, thanks.'
âListen, I've got a non-alcoholic Lemon, Lime and Bitters here. Why don't you try that?'
âAll right. You twisted my arm,' she acquiesced readily.
âGood. Usual sherry for you, Doris?' Alexander turned to his wife who didn't look back, but merely shook her head saying: âI think I'll have a Dubonnet tonight.'
After Mr. Fenech went to attend to drinks, Sidonie asked Tenille how she was feeling.
âQuite well Sid. I stayed down as long as I was able, but then I began to get restless. Hearing mom in the kitchen, I decided to join her. I had a leisurely bath too, hanging my leg over the side. It worked very well.' She turned and looked at her mother then back to Sidonie. âMom was just catching me up on the local gossip â are these enough apples?' She held out the bowl, but Doris couldn't see inside.
âI'll take it over,' Sidonie stated.
When Doris looked again, she decided that was ample. Soon the pie was in the oven. âLets join Dad in the living room. Everything's under control here.'
Alexander was setting the drinks tray on the coffee table. âGood timing, everybody.' They settled in, choosing the same places as earlier in the day.
âWhat do you like to drink, Mr. Fenech?' Sidonie inquired.
âI'm a Rye and 7-Up man myself. It's usually Seagram's.' The conversation continued, mostly around Tenille's accident and its aftermath. âSo what will you do about your dancing now?' Alexander asked with concern. âYou never said when we talked earlier; just left it in the air.'
âWell Dad, I think I have to get my head around the fact that it's probably at an end ⦠at least the performance side of it. I thought at first I'd get right back. Now I know I have a lengthy rehabilitation period, which means Los Flamencos will replace me. And where would I find another group like them?' Tenille's voice faltered and one side of her mouth began to tremble. Sidonie reached out her hand and gave a gentle squeeze. It was hard to watch her so tormented; having to come to terms with the realization there would be no future for this particular dream.
âListen Tennie. We went through this before,' Doris said, with thinly disguised impatience. âYou were being unrealistic to think that dancing could be a foundation stone for your career.' She saw her daughter's face begin to crumple. âYou know I'm thinking only of you, Tennie, but you've got to find something more practical.' Her voice became more assertive. âThis dreaming of fame and fortune through dance ⦠at your age,' she added waspishly, âjust can't work.' She took a sip from her glass and a new tack. âWhy don't you go back to your nursing studies? You were doing so well.'
âI would be a qualified nurse,
now
,' she stated with heavy emphasis. Her ire was up. âIf you hadn't persuaded me it wasn't necessary to continue, then I'd have something worthwhile to help me live independently ⦠and comfortably,' she added bitterly. âBut no. You were so sure I need only snare a rich husband.' Her voice had risen in her distress, regret for the past spilling out.
âIt wasn't my fault,' Doris retorted in her defence. âYou could have continued.'
âHow could I? Between you and Jerred, I thought I was doing the right thing. And look at me now. No skills; no job prospects; one leg in a cast, hopping around on crutches.' Tenille's voice cracked as she ended on a sob.
âThere there, my dear,' her dad tried to console her. âDon't distress yourself. Something will turn up, you'll see.'
Tenille's retort was vehement: âNothing will turn up Dad. Stop fooling yourself ⦠and me.' She spoke from a hopeless perspective, adding cruelly: âIt's time you took your head out of the sand.' Alexander remained quiet, the silence becoming heavy and drawn out. Doris judged it expedient to put dinner on the table, indicating such to her husband who rose and followed her. They didn't speak, only moving around each other, he laying the table in the dining room, she bringing out the meat and vegetable dishes. The girls joined them.
âPlease serve yourself,' Doris indicated the silver utensils to Sidonie. Feeling most uncomfortable at being witness to this family conflict, she began the process then passed the bowls to Mr. Fenech. He passed them on to Tenille, but she couldn't eat a thing. A lump was sitting inside her chest, threatening to choke the back of her throat. Once her mother had served herself, she said grace. The silence resumed.
âI can't eat this.'
Tenille pushed the plate away, her expression grim, face blotchy. A frown creased her forehead into deep furrows. âI guess I'm overtired. Excuse me everyone. I'm going to my room.' She stood and reached for the crutches. Sidonie, looking on sympathetically, made no move to assist, feeling it judicious to let her exit under her own steam; cloaking herself with as much dignity as she could muster. Alexander on the other hand, jumped up knocking his chair over in his clumsy haste to reach her side.
She turned, giving him a cold stare. âI can manage on my own,' she stated icily, the look daring him to lay a hand on her. He backed off in confusion, setting himself to righting the chair and regaining his own composure. Doris sat impassive, but very angry inside at her daughter's resistance. There had been a battle of wills ⦠she had lost. One last rallying charge, perhaps?
âTenille, you need to eat. Stop this nonsense.'
She was at the door now, the look on her face one Sidonie had not seen before; mouth hard set, jaw clenched and her usually soft and beguiling eyes, narrowed into a steely hardness against her mother. Respect for her grew. About to speak, instead she turned back to the hallway and headed towards the staircase, leaving behind a setting of wax images, ready to partake of a late supper. No one had moved, only staring after her disappearing figure, knife and fork in hand. A door closed after what seemed a long time, not with a loud bang, but a quiet firmness. A collective release of breath from the three remaining at the table signalled the end of tension and Alexander offered to refill Sidonie's glass.
âThank you,' she accepted. There was more than enough wine, but she couldn't deny this man his attempt to head them back to normalcy. Doris resumed her meal. She wouldn't try to explain things; she may never see this person again. Alexander had not offered his wife more wine, she only ever drank one glass. Returning to his seat he asked if she still wanted to invite Tarquam and Eron for dinner tomorrow. They were a young Irish couple, friends of Tenille's with whom she liked to keep in touch.
âOh yes. I don't see that Tennie will stay like this all day. You know what she's like â up and down.' Her dismissal of the severity of their argument implied Tenille was just being juvenile.
The meal drew to a dismal close, Alexander making all the effort to preserve a semblance of social entertaining; Sidonie doing her best to respond appropriately and give him support. Doris was no help. What a relief when it was over and she could help clear away.
âCan I lend a hand with the washing up?' she asked vaguely, to no one in particular.
âOh thank you, my dear.' It was Alexander who answered. âI give Doris a break when she entertains. She doesn't like to leave dishes overnight.'
She looked across at him and saw he was still listening attentively. âMam always encouraged me too. She'd ask me questions about my homework â what I was studying and that. Although she didn't know what I was talking about, I always felt the sincerity of her interest.'
âAnd how does your mother manage now?' Alexander asked. This was a life story he was not in the habit of encountering in his world.
âIt's easier for her now. The youngest is thirteen. She's got a Government house, so less money goes on rent. Also, I earn pretty good, so I can send her something every two weeks.'
âThat's excellent, Sidonie,' he admired. âI can see you're a very capable young lady.'
âI'd like to be able to accept your good words, Mr. Fenech, but I have to admit, I'm living in subsidized rental, so I only have to pay $50:00 a week. Yes, it's all worked out very well for me,' she acknowledged with satisfaction. âBut I don't take my position in life for granted. I know I could've come under the influence of timewasters and joy riders. I've heard of other girls from my neighborhood who've fallen out with their families and now are on the streets, relying on their peers for support. The lifestyle is a hard and bitter one. There seems little to look forward to in their future except more of the same or perhaps worse.'
As the end of the day drew near, the last exchanges of the Redwings began to fill the air. The twilight softened the features of Sidonie's face and Alexander noticed the contrasting brilliance of her eyes with the warm, sun bronzed tones of her skin.
“She really is a striking looking young woman,”
he thought. At first glance one would dismiss her, but there were depths here which one could spend considerable time exploring.
“Yes,”
he mused,
“a very good companion for my little girl. Despite her youth she has experienced life in a way quite beyond Tennie's limited exposure. I like her a lot,”
he acknowledged to himself. He hoped the two of them would develop a firm friendship. He knew Tenille needed someone in her life with whom she could share.
As they approached the back door, the scent of Lime trees filled the mild evening air. Alexander sneezed. âI love the fragrance, but I'm afraid it's no good for my sinuses.' He got out his handkerchief. âBut I wouldn't have the trees cut down ⦠never.' he ended emphatically.
The kitchen was a hive of activity on their return, mother and daughter busy with dinner preparations and the smell of the lime flowers was replaced by the mouth watering aroma of pork chops, simmering in an orange sauce. Doris continued on about her tasks, but Tenille stopped her chore of peeling apples for the pie and greeted her two favorite people with a warm smile. Betsy had to remain in her special area, a covered-in space just outside the back door, until invited. The kitchen was definitely out of bounds at meal time.
âWhere've you two been? Was dad showing you the garden?' She turned toward Sidonie on this last, her eyes sparkling.
âYes â¦' he replied, as he took a seat at the table, â â¦and she liked the wild part too.'
âI'm surprised to see you up already Ten,' Sidonie smiled back as she stood to the side of her chair and looked down, noticing how shiny her hair was now. She wanted to reach out and touch it, but not here. âSo soon out of hospital it could be a good idea to get an early night tonight.' Tenille was still looking up at her and simply nodded her agreement.
Sidonie turned to Mrs. Fenech. âIs there anything I can do to help? I'm good at laying tables and fetching and carrying.'
âOh, are you a waitress then?' Doris asked derisively, thinking this would be just the sort of work she'd expect from someone like her. A shocked silence hung in the room. All eyes turned to Doris at the kitchen sink where she was washing and slicing string beans. At last Tenille broke into the amazement with: âNo Mom.' Her voice had a longsuffering tone. âSidonie is a very helpful person, that's all,' forced to her defence. Really, sometimes she could be too much. âShe's quite a good cook too,' she endorsed: âOnce you pin her down,' she amended truthfully. She was hoping to take the sting out of her mother's words. She'd noticed how her dad had squirmed. Sidonie said nothing, taking a seat at the table, feeling it best to leave well enough alone.
Doris, to defuse the tension, decided to play the gracious host.
“Really, so much fuss over nothing.”
She declined Sidonie's offer and suggested instead her husband open the bar.
âGood idea,' he responded cordially, relieved to have the moment over and something to do. âWhat can I offer you,' he enquired amiably of Sidonie. She looked a little taken aback, not knowing quite what to say. She was used to being offered a beer, but in this household her confidence was slipping and she wasn't sure if she should be asking for some sort of cocktail. Open the bar?
Tenille came to her rescue again. âSid likes light beer Dad. Old Vienna if you've got it.' She looked inquiringly across to see if she had the right one.
âYes, that's my brew, otherwise any one will do.' She smiled her thanks. She would give Mrs. Fenech the benefit of the doubt. Anyway, there was nothing wrong with waitressing. She had in fact done a stint of it, when she'd been anxious to complete her car payments. It was just the way Mrs. Fenech had said it.
âSorry Sidonie. Will Labbatts Blue do you for now? I'll pop to the beer store tomorrow. I've got a load of empties to return, anyway.'
âNo problem, Labbatts is fine. I don't want to put you to any trouble,' she said disarmingly.
âIt's no trouble, I pass right by it. Now Tennie,' he turned his attention to his daughter: âWhat do you fancy tonight? Your first evening home, the sky's the limit.'
She could see her dad's excitement. He enjoyed being bartender. It was something his wife didn't complain about, so he could do it without censure.
âI'm on medication Dad, so I'll just have a mineral water, thanks.'
âListen, I've got a non-alcoholic Lemon, Lime and Bitters here. Why don't you try that?'
âAll right. You twisted my arm,' she acquiesced readily.
âGood. Usual sherry for you, Doris?' Alexander turned to his wife who didn't look back, but merely shook her head saying: âI think I'll have a Dubonnet tonight.'
After Mr. Fenech went to attend to drinks, Sidonie asked Tenille how she was feeling.
âQuite well Sid. I stayed down as long as I was able, but then I began to get restless. Hearing mom in the kitchen, I decided to join her. I had a leisurely bath too, hanging my leg over the side. It worked very well.' She turned and looked at her mother then back to Sidonie. âMom was just catching me up on the local gossip â are these enough apples?' She held out the bowl, but Doris couldn't see inside.
âI'll take it over,' Sidonie stated.
When Doris looked again, she decided that was ample. Soon the pie was in the oven. âLets join Dad in the living room. Everything's under control here.'
Alexander was setting the drinks tray on the coffee table. âGood timing, everybody.' They settled in, choosing the same places as earlier in the day.
âWhat do you like to drink, Mr. Fenech?' Sidonie inquired.
âI'm a Rye and 7-Up man myself. It's usually Seagram's.' The conversation continued, mostly around Tenille's accident and its aftermath. âSo what will you do about your dancing now?' Alexander asked with concern. âYou never said when we talked earlier; just left it in the air.'
âWell Dad, I think I have to get my head around the fact that it's probably at an end ⦠at least the performance side of it. I thought at first I'd get right back. Now I know I have a lengthy rehabilitation period, which means Los Flamencos will replace me. And where would I find another group like them?' Tenille's voice faltered and one side of her mouth began to tremble. Sidonie reached out her hand and gave a gentle squeeze. It was hard to watch her so tormented; having to come to terms with the realization there would be no future for this particular dream.
âListen Tennie. We went through this before,' Doris said, with thinly disguised impatience. âYou were being unrealistic to think that dancing could be a foundation stone for your career.' She saw her daughter's face begin to crumple. âYou know I'm thinking only of you, Tennie, but you've got to find something more practical.' Her voice became more assertive. âThis dreaming of fame and fortune through dance ⦠at your age,' she added waspishly, âjust can't work.' She took a sip from her glass and a new tack. âWhy don't you go back to your nursing studies? You were doing so well.'
âI would be a qualified nurse,
now
,' she stated with heavy emphasis. Her ire was up. âIf you hadn't persuaded me it wasn't necessary to continue, then I'd have something worthwhile to help me live independently ⦠and comfortably,' she added bitterly. âBut no. You were so sure I need only snare a rich husband.' Her voice had risen in her distress, regret for the past spilling out.
âIt wasn't my fault,' Doris retorted in her defence. âYou could have continued.'
âHow could I? Between you and Jerred, I thought I was doing the right thing. And look at me now. No skills; no job prospects; one leg in a cast, hopping around on crutches.' Tenille's voice cracked as she ended on a sob.
âThere there, my dear,' her dad tried to console her. âDon't distress yourself. Something will turn up, you'll see.'
Tenille's retort was vehement: âNothing will turn up Dad. Stop fooling yourself ⦠and me.' She spoke from a hopeless perspective, adding cruelly: âIt's time you took your head out of the sand.' Alexander remained quiet, the silence becoming heavy and drawn out. Doris judged it expedient to put dinner on the table, indicating such to her husband who rose and followed her. They didn't speak, only moving around each other, he laying the table in the dining room, she bringing out the meat and vegetable dishes. The girls joined them.
âPlease serve yourself,' Doris indicated the silver utensils to Sidonie. Feeling most uncomfortable at being witness to this family conflict, she began the process then passed the bowls to Mr. Fenech. He passed them on to Tenille, but she couldn't eat a thing. A lump was sitting inside her chest, threatening to choke the back of her throat. Once her mother had served herself, she said grace. The silence resumed.
âI can't eat this.'
Tenille pushed the plate away, her expression grim, face blotchy. A frown creased her forehead into deep furrows. âI guess I'm overtired. Excuse me everyone. I'm going to my room.' She stood and reached for the crutches. Sidonie, looking on sympathetically, made no move to assist, feeling it judicious to let her exit under her own steam; cloaking herself with as much dignity as she could muster. Alexander on the other hand, jumped up knocking his chair over in his clumsy haste to reach her side.
She turned, giving him a cold stare. âI can manage on my own,' she stated icily, the look daring him to lay a hand on her. He backed off in confusion, setting himself to righting the chair and regaining his own composure. Doris sat impassive, but very angry inside at her daughter's resistance. There had been a battle of wills ⦠she had lost. One last rallying charge, perhaps?
âTenille, you need to eat. Stop this nonsense.'
She was at the door now, the look on her face one Sidonie had not seen before; mouth hard set, jaw clenched and her usually soft and beguiling eyes, narrowed into a steely hardness against her mother. Respect for her grew. About to speak, instead she turned back to the hallway and headed towards the staircase, leaving behind a setting of wax images, ready to partake of a late supper. No one had moved, only staring after her disappearing figure, knife and fork in hand. A door closed after what seemed a long time, not with a loud bang, but a quiet firmness. A collective release of breath from the three remaining at the table signalled the end of tension and Alexander offered to refill Sidonie's glass.
âThank you,' she accepted. There was more than enough wine, but she couldn't deny this man his attempt to head them back to normalcy. Doris resumed her meal. She wouldn't try to explain things; she may never see this person again. Alexander had not offered his wife more wine, she only ever drank one glass. Returning to his seat he asked if she still wanted to invite Tarquam and Eron for dinner tomorrow. They were a young Irish couple, friends of Tenille's with whom she liked to keep in touch.
âOh yes. I don't see that Tennie will stay like this all day. You know what she's like â up and down.' Her dismissal of the severity of their argument implied Tenille was just being juvenile.
The meal drew to a dismal close, Alexander making all the effort to preserve a semblance of social entertaining; Sidonie doing her best to respond appropriately and give him support. Doris was no help. What a relief when it was over and she could help clear away.
âCan I lend a hand with the washing up?' she asked vaguely, to no one in particular.
âOh thank you, my dear.' It was Alexander who answered. âI give Doris a break when she entertains. She doesn't like to leave dishes overnight.'
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