‘Yes. How are you?’
‘Fine. I thought this might be a good time to give you a buzz.’
‘Yes.’ She was beginning to feel nervous. Why was it when they talked it seemed to be so difficult? Nothing flowed. They would stop and start; speak at the same time. “If we have this much trouble communicating, why do we bother?’ She could hear Sidonie breathing heavily at the other end then suddenly, exploded in her ear the words: ‘Have you eaten?’
‘No … No I haven’t. Not yet. I just got in from practise.’
‘Well. Why don’t I drop by your place and pick you up. We can go somewhere for a bite?’
‘Yes, cool. What time do you think you’ll be over?’
‘It’ll take me probably about forty-five minutes to reach you from here,’ she surmised. ‘How does that sound? Okay by you?’
She thought rapidly. A shower. And change into something more attractive. She would like to wash her hair too. She wanted to look better than just passable, but she’d not have enough time to make much of a transformation. ‘Wowing’ was what she had in mind, but she’d have to settle for average. She was carrying on as though this was a date.
‘Fine,’ was her only response.
‘See you soon, then.’
Looking at the hand piece … that was it? Well, she couldn’t just stand there, she needed to get a move on and raced downstairs, hoping Mrs. Sandrelli wouldn’t catch her and want to chat.
She ripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower. While soaping up, thoughts turned to what to wear. As her hands slid over her body she was aware of how excited she was, her skin so sensitive. Just the slightest touch. Sidonie wasn’t even here, yet it was like she was the flowing water, the bubbling soap, smoothing her flesh and caressing her. She raised her arms to wash her hair and became aware of her breasts engorged, carrying the burden of her desire. She recalled thinking of Sidonie in the shower with her. This time she wouldn’t be trying not to bump into her. This time their bodies would be melded together, the water flowing over them as though they were one.
‘Do get on Ten,’ she scolded. It was hurry, not daydream. Back to what to wear. She selected something very simple; she didn’t know where they were going. A high necked, cap-sleeved, tight-fitting top in fine ribbing. The color was the palest mauve, teamed with soft lemon, drawstring, palazzo pants. The top accentuated her breasts, but the pants had a little matching bolero, long enough to cover the breasts, but short enough to show off a slim waist. She put it all together and checked in the mirror. Had she gained weight since she wore this outfit last summer? Her bosom looked larger than she remembered.
‘But … rather nice.’ She hoped Sidonie wouldn’t think she was being forward. Low heeled cream sandals completed the picture. Okay next. She moved to the dressing table, put on her watch, checking how much time was left. While she styled her hair up using the beaded tie, just leaving a few curling strands to hang down in front of and behind her ears, her mind raced along its own track.
Going over Friday night she realized she had never actually accosted the fact of her sexual preference so squarely. When she had been seeing Devon, she had kept the relationship in a separate box, admitting only to strong feelings; Devon being a special person.
She squinted into the mirror. “You have to stop fooling yourself Ten.”
As she moved on to make-up she reflected with candour, she was physically attracted to this girl. “For the same reasons as Devon?” No. Sidonie was nothing like Devon. She needed to consider … could this attraction happen again … with another woman?
Done. The effect she wanted for tonight should be relaxed/casual, although her insides were wound up tighter than those of a rubber ball. She looked at herself again. Should she change? The tight-fitting top really was that. Everyone was wearing them, but was it too revealing? Yes, she should.
The door bell. Mrs Sandrelli’s answers. Her pulse began to race and her throat went tight. Her lips were so dry … a quick application of cherry lipgloss. Mrs. Sandrelli’s raised voice: ‘Tenille. Someone at the door for you.’ Mrs. Sandrelli’s voice in the conversational tone. ‘Step inside. Wait. She be here soon.’ She nodded to the girl, deciding she wasn’t a dancing friend; didn’t look the type. She wasn’t sure what type she was, but she had outstanding eyes. She went back to her living room and closed the door. Sidonie was left feeling displaced. “Like ‘cap in hand’” she thought: “Except I don’t have a cap.” She had not been told to go ahead to Tenille’s quarters. ‘Who is this landlady anyway her keeper?’ she grumbled under her breath.
Tenille appeared at the bottom of the short flight of stairs and looked a sensation. She gazed down on her, standing as one transfixed. The reality far outstripped her imaginings and the breath locked in her throat. Under Tenille’s spell again, she just barely managed to croak out: ‘Hello.’ her whole body rocked by the intensity of its physical response to this woman. Those body-shaking feelings reawakened once more.
Tenille stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. She loved what she saw as her eyes touched the girl everywhere. She had brushed her hair carefully, the sheen from its highlights giving her head a golden radiance, under the fluorescent whiteness in the hallway. The halo showed off the arresting delineation of her bone structure; well formed cheekbones, a square chin, softened by the small curve at the point. Her eyes were a startling blue tonight as she stood looking down, the fair eyebrows followed so perfectly the upward slant of her eyes.
The white cambric shirt, open at the throat, with its small collar lifted a little, reinforced the muscularity of her sturdy neck and the breadth of her robust shoulders. She had a golden tan extending over her chest, revealed by buttons left carelessly undone. Overall, she looked crisp and athletic, full of unspent energy. Yes, powerful too, yet gentle at the same time: a body capable of tackling any job: hands that could turn to any task. The face was vital, revealing a capacity for sympathy and generosity.
Well cut, forest green shorts could not hide the rugged build of her thighs, despite their bagginess. Her legs were made, not for distance, but to enhance the strength of her upper body. Tenille’s gaze raked over her again. She had a flat, hard stomach which blended into the square bones of her pelvis. Her sturdiness accentuated her boyishness, which was overwhelming Tenille. She felt herself drawn toward this body through the faint cruelty of arousal.
Sidonie turned away to open the door as Tenille neared her. Standing well back to let her pass, still she was close enough to catch that seductive perfume. Earthy, musky and thrilling. She closed the door as she felt passion stir within her, causing her legs to move shakily, operated by an automaton. Tenille was smooth gracefulness in comparison.
‘Turn left. I couldn’t get a park closer,’ her voice came out rough.
She fell into step with Tenille, on the outside of the sidewalk. They didn’t speak, acutely aware of each other’s presence. Small talk seemed impossible. Perhaps given time, they could begin to communicate, Tenille pondered, as they approached the familiar, blue auto.
‘Here it is,’ Sidonie said almost in relief, with a slight tremor. Now she would have something to occupy her, help her to some semblance of normality. She was feeling so hopeless in all of this. She unlocked the passenger door, but didn’t wait to close it, instead walking round to her own side. Once in place, she realized she was still too aware of this woman next to her. She had to get moving before her clammy hands made it impossible to control the wheel.
‘Any place special … you like?’ The words came out in guttural hesitation, as she kept her eyes ahead. ‘Or would you prefer somewhere … for a drink?’
‘No. I don’t know the city that well to pick a restaurant.’ She had to look at Sidonie again. She didn’t want to take her eyes off her, but she didn’t want to be a gawk either. Attention returned to the passing traffic, but the heart was still frantic. ‘Do you have a favorite?’ she managed.
Sidonie thought of some of the neat little eatin
g houses in the gay ghetto, along Church Street. She and Karen used to go there sometimes, but decided they were too blatant. Her first thought of The Woman’s Common was probably still the best.
‘Well, you liked the atmosphere of the last place I took you to … I think … Didn’t You? We didn’t eat I know, but the food is pretty good.’
‘Yes. It was relaxing.’ “And how we need some place like that,” she mused sardonically.
That decided, Sidonie felt easier. ‘It’s actually more than a restaurant. They sometimes have art and photography displays of women’s work and a very lively notice board.’
That was it for their verbal exchange. From then on nothing more was said; no more words to be found to lubricate the contact between them. One concentrated on the road, the other admired the stylish windows of the exclusive stores along Bloor.
She picked the same table as before, but a different waitress took their orders. They started off with drinks. Tenille reckoned she could do with some Dutch courage and shot to the top with a Black Russian. Sidonie played it cool with a light OV.
They looked fair set for another silent evening, but Tenille didn’t want a repeat performance. She determined to start them off by revealing that she had given Sunday a lot of thought and asked direct, had she?
Sidonie admitted she had, then clammed up. Here was the ideal moment, she could sense it, but she just didn’t know how to frame the words. The smile was hesitant, just a little lift to the corners of the mouth, as she ran nervous fingers through her hair. Tenille smiled back. She too, looked tense.
What a pair they made, Sidonie thought. Resolving to accomplish something … anything, she began falteringly: ‘Ten … Tenille?’ her eyes pleaded for understanding as her heart thudded.
‘Yes?’ eyes growing large and round with enquiry.
‘You understand what I was trying to say … in the car … on Sunday?’ Her eyes, an intense indigo through her heightened emotion, flicked between the glass and Tenille’s face, unable to rest.
She looked steadily back, her whole being concentrating on this girl as she smothered her own, urgent thoughts. ‘Yes … I think so. Do you understand what I was telling you?’ her voice had a deep huskiness she had not heard before. Now she returned her gaze.
‘Well, not exactly. I’m a bit confused … or slow … or something,’ she finished lamely.
‘Sidonie, it’s not hard … but you are making it difficult.’
‘How’s that?’ The eyebrows arched upwards as the eyes levelled on her. ‘I’m not trying to.’ She experienced a wrenching feeling. Her hold was slipping.
‘Well, I told you I understand what you’re telling me.’ Her voice had an impatient edge, but the arrival of their orders gave her a chance to calm down. Unfortunately, neither of them felt like eating now. She played with the food then resumed, in a gentler tone.
‘Sidonie, why do you think we’re here, together again, tonight?’ Her eyes were gentle, too. ‘I wouldn’t be here with you, like this, if I didn’t want to be, would I?’
She put down her fork. ‘No.’
‘So – where’s your problem?’ now sounding long suffering.
This was it. Her back against the wall and nowhere to run. In a ragged voice she said: ‘It’s just … well, I know you like my company. What I don’t know is how much you really like me.’ Her tortured mind began groping for words. ‘The person me …. What I am …. The way I am …’ She stopped, unwilling to say more and looked down at her plate.
‘Sidonie. I like, ‘the person you,’ as you put it. Why do I have to say more? Isn’t that enough?’ Tenille was feeling anxious. ‘What more do you want?’ There was something else in the blue centres of those eyes, which she couldn’t fathom.
Meanwhile, Sidonie was churning inside, feeling disconnected. She wanted this woman to admit she was lesbian; wanted to melt her heart and hear her say: ‘I love you.’ Facing up to it, she could see she was being unreasonable. Could deep emotion alone, ever hope to bridge such a chasm? Why couldn’t she wait, let things unfold as they might? The voice inside supplied the answer. “Because you’re too damned demanding and bull-headed by half. That’s why.”
‘You’re right Tenille. You don’t have to say anything more.’ Her voice was constrained in the effort to hide her wounded heart. ‘I’m just happy you’re here with me tonight. Try your sole before it gets cold.’ She saw the relieved look on the face opposite, chase the strain-lines away and the shoulders visibly relaxed.
“Good. You’ve said the right thing for a change, Sid. Now don’t screw up.” She didn’t feel like her steak, but made an effort.
They ate in silence for a while then Sidonie steered the conversation away from choppy waters by asking about Toronto Caravan. She thought she might get to it, otherwise she would see her dance again some Saturday.
On a calmer sea, Tenille told her about Raoul’s plan to tour the States for two weeks. She wasn’t sure when it was to be, but she was very excited at the prospect. She felt it an honor to be invited; to be considered good enough.
Sidonie tried to sound encouraging in the face of this blow. She would be gone for two whole weeks. No Tenille in her life. Tenille saw a shadow darken her face. Had she said something? Quickly she changed the subject. ‘What do you like to do with your spare time?’
She told her about Volleyball and Softball … and of course, she knew about the gym. ‘Volleyball is over for the time being, so it’s Softball now. We have to start getting serious. Matches will be coming on stream. Skye has made up the leagues already.’
‘I’ve never played it seriously. Just a bit of exposure at school and then nothing. I enjoy watching it though.’ Tenille lifted her eyes to the girl. ‘Perhaps I could come and watch you play?’
The number of dykes on her team flashed into Sidonie’s head. Some were really hot stuff, both on and off the diamond. She wasn’t too sure she wanted them to meet, although she’d love to show her off. It would be okay if they really were together, but right now nothing was certain.
‘Er..r. Yes. I’ll let you know when the games start,’ she replied in a breaking voice, her color high.
‘What about one of your practise nights,’ she persisted, unaware of the discomfort she was causing.
In a stricken voice she hastily advised: ‘No. Don’t come to those. We’re still too rusty.’
‘No? Well, whatever you say.’
“Phew. That was close. Thought she was going to give me a hard time,” she mused. “Lucky she wants to please and isn’t stubborn, just for the sake of it. Not like me, thank God.”
When the waitress came to remove their plates it was Gayland. ‘Do you fancy dessert tonight, guys?’ Tenille shook her head.
‘Just the bill please, Gay.’ She began rummaging through her pockets for her wallet when Tenille broke in: ‘I’ll pay. It’s my turn.’
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ she objected. ‘Anyway, you paid last time.’
‘Only drinks,’ she corrected, but didn’t insist. They rose as Gayland returned and she asked where the washrooms were. Sidonie said she would wait at the desk. After Tenille had gone Gayland observed: ‘She’s sweet, isn’t she? What beautiful eyes,’ then threw her an inquiring look.
‘Just good friends,’ smiling ruefully. Next she spoke to Colleen: ‘Quite a good turn out for a Tuesday, eh?’
‘Not bad. We’re keeping our collective head above water. The special events help.’ When Tenille returned, Sidonie could see she had brushed her hair and touched up her face. She really had the most perfect complexion. Her skin, in this aureate light had the shading of a peach, the bloom just right. Her heart lurched to behold this woman’s beauty. She was mesmerized in her presence. Her physical appeal had an elemental pull that drew her. To ignore it was becoming too impossible. She quivered with longing. The light colors she was wearing set off the very dark brown of her hair and piled on top of her head like that, it enhanced the slender silhouette of her graceful neck. Sh
e could hardly tear her eyes from the full curves of her breasts, as she came towards her. Man, but she was some chick. The outfit so provocative, yet nothing exposed in an obvious way. As they walked she was tempted to take Tenille’s arm and guide her past the tables in a rather proprietorial way, but she held herself in check. Hadn’t she just resolved to back-off and see where the chips would fall? Jeez. How was she to handle all this?
Although the night air still met them as hot and humid, it was not sluggish, nor was breathing hard. A recent summer downpour, brief but intense, had laid the dust and left the earth refreshed. Perfumes of the night flowers still hung in the air to delight their senses: Geraniums, Chinese honeysuckle, night-scented stocks.
‘It’s a magical evening,’ Tenille remarked as they strolled down in the direction of the car. Sidonie looked up and saw the pinpoint stars glittering in the dark void. A half moon lay cradled against pearlized clouds.
‘Did you know, the first star we see in the evening isn’t in fact a star but a planet?’
‘No, I didn’t. You mean the one we see whilst the sun is still up?’
‘Yes, that one.’
‘Which planet is it?’ intrigued now.
In a soft voice she replied, almost reverently: ‘Venus.’
Tenille said nothing, but the idea glowed in her consciousness as they strolled on in companionable silence. At the car, Sidonie unlocked the passenger door, then walked round to the driver’s side.
‘I’ll take you straight home, I think.’ Her words fell heavily into the suddenly muted silence of the car’s interior.
‘The evening gets late fast,’ Tenille acknowledged, trying to stay light. Again no words were exchanged during the drive segregated, as they were, by their own isolating thoughts. The lights of the city and traffic flashed past, unheeded. Driving was automatic, the signals followed by appropriate moves until they were outside #226. She turned off the engine and only then, swung round towards her passenger, her face drained of color.
Outing of the Heart Page 35