Outing of the Heart (108 page)
Read Outing of the Heart Online
Authors: Lisa Ann Harper
Ten looked dubious. âIt's been a long day â¦'
Devon, observing the hesitation, hastened to take off the pressure. âWe'll see how we feel later?'
The dinner was lots of fun, as Devon had predicted. The dish did rather go to Ten's head though. Knowing she was now vegetarian, Devon had selected a meatless fondue. Cubes of fresh bread were dipped into a small glass of Pear William liqueur, then into the hot Emmenthal sauce. Very heady fare for an empty stomach. If Ten hadn't had such an innocent opinion of Devon, she could have suspected her of trying to get her a bit looped. As it was, she ate with enjoyment and began to forget her worries. When it came time for after-dinner coffees, Devon decided to press her advantage and made the suggestion they move on.
âLet's have a change of decor, Poppet. Something more lively than this.'
Ten was feeling good, not yet ready to have the evening end. She wanted to delay that inevitable time when she would be alone in the apartment; no escape for her tormenting thoughts, deep in the night.
Too early for the show, they made their way through the crowd to the back bar where a singer was playing standards from the 40's and 50's. They found two vacant high chairs and draped their things over the back. This time Ten made sure to keep her scarf, tying it around her neck and letting the ends drift down. The red gave her skin a luminous glow and herself a presentation of undeniable sophistication.
They ordered Irish coffees, at Devon's suggestion, and swivelled around to survey the scene. It was then Ten noticed the absence of women; men surrounded them.
She turned to Devon. âThis is a gay bar?'
âYepp..err. Isn't it cool. Us and all these guys' She observed Ten's startled look. âOh, don't worry, they welcome women.' She smiled encouragingly. âThey have the best drag show in town, too.'
âDrag show? Devon what are you thinking of?' she asked, astonished.
âRelax, Pet. They're really good, you'll see. Some you can't even tell from the real thing.' Ten's face still looked horror-stricken. This was not at all what she had expected for tonight. âLoosen up, Ten. You'll enjoy it. You'll see. Meanwhile, isn't this the greatest place?'
She had to admit, âTrax' had an atmosphere of pending excitement as more and more people continued to arrive. Old friends greeting each other; introductions made to new people and everyone either sporting the latest in fashion or a trained body in clothes to show it off. Male voices pitched in both low and high tones vied with each other for attention. She spotted a group of people sitting at a corner table, two men together and two women together, engaged in lively conversation. Much laughter and hugs. She liked this. It did her heart good to see. Yes, she could relax here. She turned to Devon, her spirits lifting.
âYou're a dear friend, Dev.' Her eyes widened in a most appealing way as she reached out and took her hand and held it a moment. Devon brought her other hand over to cover it, then gave a little press. Her spirits were lifting, too. They turned their attention to the pianist an older man, well preserved, looking stylish in plum-colored velour jacket and matching large, velvet bow tie. Acknowledging the applause, he looked around. âAny requests?'
Someone called out, SEND IN THE CLOWNS. Immediately his fingers gently stroked the keys and the haunting melody began to take shape. Ten found it a bewitching moment and sat back, giving herself up to its magic. Devon clasped her hand and this time didn't let go. Now and again she felt a squeeze, not quite sure what this meant, but its effect was to arouse her. Feeling this stirring deep inside, she looked guiltily across at Devon. It also made her feel disloyal to Sid so she began to pull her hand away. Devon let it go. The music came to an end and it was show time. By now the bar was packed and there were many more women.
Ten was transported to the glitzy world of the Drag Quean. Glittering displays, definitely over the top, entertained and diverted. They lip-synched to the female chanteuse but, in her opinion, it was there that any similarity to a real woman ended. These boys were, indeed, beautiful creatures, but they were not womanly. They brought to their allure that male energy which women lack and which, in a room filled with women, would always set them apart. But they were good. The presentation was superb; the music exciting and the dancing professional, although these young men were, for the most part, amateurs. The lighting effects, state of the art in high tech. were dazzling. They thoroughly enjoyed themselves, as did everyone else.
After the show the performers returned, still in full costume. (Who would miss a chance to parade some more)? One came up to Devon and kissed the air at the side of her cheek.
âHe..llo, da..rr..ling.' The voice was soft and throaty.
âHello Lavinia. May I introduce my friend, Tenille?' He turned to Ten, feathers fluttering and sequins rustling. He kissed the air again and she got a strong waft of a powerful perfume.
âHello Tenille.'
âHello.' She couldn't bring herself to say âLavinia', being too dumbfounded. To be actually in the company of a Drag Quean was beyond her wildest imaginings.
âFantastic show, Linnie. You were stunning.' Devon knew how to be lavish with her commendations and he preened with pleasure. âCan I buy you a drink?'
âNo, darling. On my way to respond to a âbillet-doux', sent over from this divine man who's been coming every week to see the show and has finally plucked up the courage to contact me. Isn't it just too, too thrilling?' He fluttered his false eyelashes and pursed his big red mouth. âThis could turn out to be the love of my life.' He kissed the air once more beside Devon's head and said: âBye darlings. Lovely to meet you, Tenille,' then was off, teetering precariously on impossible, stiletto heels, hips sashaying dissolutely; his exit as florid and flamboyant as the entrance.
“Phew ⦠what an encounter. Not to be forgotten in a hurry.”
Ten thought back to the woman she had been only a single year ago. She couldn't see the Tenille of that time dropping into a place like this and actually enjoying herself, let alone accepting the differences in their lifestyles. Her mother's fears seemed positively bigoted. Yes, she had come a long way.
âHow do you know her ⦠him, Dev?' she enquired, her thoughts returning to the immediate, as she sipped her drink. She was onto a Perrier, believing the Irish Coffee had been her undoing earlier.
âHe's my hairdresser. He introduced me to this place ⦠oh, about three months ago. How did you like the show? Isn't it wild?' Devon looked about her, taking in all the sights and sounds. âI know another bar where we can dance. Wanna?' She cocked her head inquiringly, her viridescent eyes aglitter in the flashing colored lights, spinning crazily on their hyperbolic axes.
âNo Dev. I've had enough for one night. It must be getting late. I think I'd like to go home now.' She looked at her watch, it was almost one.
âOh phooey. Party-pooper. We're just getting into our swing.'
âGoodness, where do you get all your energy? No Dev, really, I'd like to go now.' Her look was earnest. Devon relented.
âOkay, okay.' She held up her hands. âI get the message. Drink up, then.'
They chatted pleasantly on the way back. She felt the evening had gone well. She and Ten were existing comfortably in their shared space and this augured well for future intimacy. In the habit of getting what she wanted Devon had no doubts. Pulling up outside the house she voiced the suggestion that they do this again some time. Ten only nodded, not quite sure if she really wanted to repeat the experience.
âI'll get your door,' she offered and jumped out, walking round to the passenger side and gallantly opening up. As Ten stood she came body to body with Devon. She couldn't move anywhere. As Devon closed the door, she pressed her against the car's side.
âI'm glad you had a good time tonight, Ten. I certainly enjoyed taking you out, it was like old times,' she leaned closer: âWasn't it?' She put her arms around Ten's shoulders and lowered her mouth to her lips. Ten struggled, their bodies swaying slightly before she managed to exclaim: âDev, don't. This spoils everything.'
She pulled back, giving only a fraction more space. âYou couldn't wait for my kisses before. What's different now?'
âSidonie.' She stared steadily back at Devon, saying no more. Then, after a short pause: âPlease, let me go.' Her voice was strained, but determined.
Sitting upstairs, still nursing a beer during her prolonged vigil, was a silent observer of the scene being played out in the street below. It was after one o'clock. She had spent her time staring into the past, her thoughts racing out of control in her speculations on what was happening. Now all was explained. Tears burned her eyes, clouded by the horrible images visible in the midst of the darkness. She blinked and pushed back those tears, slowly re-focusing on the couple by the car. She hated to look, but couldn't turn her head, as though mercilessly held in the grip of iron hands. Every image was like a knife-cut into her heart, but she couldn't stop torturing herself; compelled to watch, torn apart by her own demons.
Tenille had been the faceless lover she had longed for; to whom she had totally subjugated her heart. The mate of her soul with whom she could share her innermost dreams. Now everything was crashing down around her. No longer loved in return. Much as she tried to subdue the mounting misery rising within her, she was failing, hopelessly. A look of silent grief crossed her face as emotion fought with reason and won. She heard a light tread on the stair, but at a slow and measured pace.
Ten was lost in thought as she opened the door and dropped her jacket on the chair at the entrance. Suddenly her mind was yanked to attention ⦠Sid's grip on the floor ⦠Sid here? She turned her head and saw her sitting by the window, looking out.
âSid. I didn't think you were coming down this weekend,' her voice breathless with surprise. Then the pain of revelation crossed her face. Sitting there, she must have seen everything. Sorrow emanated like a tangible aura. Sid turned her head. It was like watching a movie in slow motion. She could see the tragedy in the eyes looking into hers. Total despair and desolation was writ large, as they began to water with unshed tears, before she looked quickly away. She would do nothing to betray her unhappiness, but Ten sensed it, like an underlying turbulence.
Sid felt as if her heart had been roughly gripped and was about to be torn out. A hard knot lodged in her chest as the woman moved forward to where she sat immobile. Ten's eyes, darkly intense never wavered from that face before her, concentrating on nothing except the agony she discerned.
Sid's first sight of Ten had caught her breath in her throat and her heart had held a beat. She had struggled to remain impassive, but inside was experiencing a swift, betraying flame of desire that seared her gut and brought a hot wetness to her crotch. Her cheeks had seared with a shameful heat, that her body should betray her so. Her belly clenched with burning excitement. In that first look, after such a long time, she had taken in every detail outlined by the skin-tight dress. The scarlet scarf, now draped over her shoulder, revealed the fullness of her breasts, ready to spill over in a shameless exposure of forbidden fruit. Her gaze had followed the red line down to the fabric stretched tightly across the roundness of her belly, to the seductive curve of her hips, so deliciously feminine. The tight skirt, too short, took her eyes upward again to where the hollow in the dress pointed to Ten's own soft centre of desire.
“Desire for another woman,”
was the bitter thought, as she wrenched her eyes away. She had never experienced pain with such clear definition until now. She feared her face would reveal the truth of her feelings. But of all times not now. She did not want this woman to see how powerful was the force of her attraction. A power to dominate and hold. A force that despite her resolve to resist with all her being, in the end, she was powerless to override. She felt the heat of passion dead centre, then the slow burning of her desire rise to her breasts. Her need was traitorous to her mind and her eyes pooled with the effort of holding back her emotions. At Ten's approach her body stiffened.
âDon't ⦠don't come ⦠any nearer,' she ordered, her voice tight and cold. Fury closed off her face. But still she could not trust herself not to break down and cry out for Ten's love; not to beg her, in abject humiliation, on her knees if necessary, to love her again as she had done before.
Ten stretched out her hand, as if in supplication for understanding, but didn't touch. Tears, painful as vinegar, stung her eyes. âLet me explain, Sid,' she implored, wanting so much to take the hurt away from this suffering girl; to find some way of appeasing her.
Sid swiftly turned her body, her face hardening, removing all signs of weakness. Only a steely anger was visible, making Ten take an involuntary step back from the force of this hostility. With her tongue thickened in her mouth, Sid was compelled to articulate slowly, the effect on Ten being to lock her brain into disbelief, confronted as she was by something so sickening. Was she really hearing these words from those lips?
âNow listen to me, and listen good. I'll only say this once, then I'm leaving.' There was a hard edge of brittleness. âI see only too clearly how things are. I didn't come down with the last shower that I need you to explain things to me.' Heavy sarcasm dripped like poison into her ears. âI don't plan to stay around here to be humiliated by lies and cover up.' She took a deep breath then continued in the face of Ten's shocked stare and tear filled eyes.
âLook at you,' she spat out: âDressed up like a tart on the make ⦠showing off everything you've got. It's disgusting ⦠and not what I am wanting.' Though the words hurt to the point where she could have drowned in a torrent of tears, she was driven to devalue everything that a moment ago she had so overwhelmingly desired. She had to kill this wanting inside, any way she knew how. She was fighting for the survival of her sanity. If she had to live without Ten then she had to make her worthless. A look of bruised bitterness invaded her eyes and her raging flared again.
Devon, observing the hesitation, hastened to take off the pressure. âWe'll see how we feel later?'
The dinner was lots of fun, as Devon had predicted. The dish did rather go to Ten's head though. Knowing she was now vegetarian, Devon had selected a meatless fondue. Cubes of fresh bread were dipped into a small glass of Pear William liqueur, then into the hot Emmenthal sauce. Very heady fare for an empty stomach. If Ten hadn't had such an innocent opinion of Devon, she could have suspected her of trying to get her a bit looped. As it was, she ate with enjoyment and began to forget her worries. When it came time for after-dinner coffees, Devon decided to press her advantage and made the suggestion they move on.
âLet's have a change of decor, Poppet. Something more lively than this.'
Ten was feeling good, not yet ready to have the evening end. She wanted to delay that inevitable time when she would be alone in the apartment; no escape for her tormenting thoughts, deep in the night.
Too early for the show, they made their way through the crowd to the back bar where a singer was playing standards from the 40's and 50's. They found two vacant high chairs and draped their things over the back. This time Ten made sure to keep her scarf, tying it around her neck and letting the ends drift down. The red gave her skin a luminous glow and herself a presentation of undeniable sophistication.
They ordered Irish coffees, at Devon's suggestion, and swivelled around to survey the scene. It was then Ten noticed the absence of women; men surrounded them.
She turned to Devon. âThis is a gay bar?'
âYepp..err. Isn't it cool. Us and all these guys' She observed Ten's startled look. âOh, don't worry, they welcome women.' She smiled encouragingly. âThey have the best drag show in town, too.'
âDrag show? Devon what are you thinking of?' she asked, astonished.
âRelax, Pet. They're really good, you'll see. Some you can't even tell from the real thing.' Ten's face still looked horror-stricken. This was not at all what she had expected for tonight. âLoosen up, Ten. You'll enjoy it. You'll see. Meanwhile, isn't this the greatest place?'
She had to admit, âTrax' had an atmosphere of pending excitement as more and more people continued to arrive. Old friends greeting each other; introductions made to new people and everyone either sporting the latest in fashion or a trained body in clothes to show it off. Male voices pitched in both low and high tones vied with each other for attention. She spotted a group of people sitting at a corner table, two men together and two women together, engaged in lively conversation. Much laughter and hugs. She liked this. It did her heart good to see. Yes, she could relax here. She turned to Devon, her spirits lifting.
âYou're a dear friend, Dev.' Her eyes widened in a most appealing way as she reached out and took her hand and held it a moment. Devon brought her other hand over to cover it, then gave a little press. Her spirits were lifting, too. They turned their attention to the pianist an older man, well preserved, looking stylish in plum-colored velour jacket and matching large, velvet bow tie. Acknowledging the applause, he looked around. âAny requests?'
Someone called out, SEND IN THE CLOWNS. Immediately his fingers gently stroked the keys and the haunting melody began to take shape. Ten found it a bewitching moment and sat back, giving herself up to its magic. Devon clasped her hand and this time didn't let go. Now and again she felt a squeeze, not quite sure what this meant, but its effect was to arouse her. Feeling this stirring deep inside, she looked guiltily across at Devon. It also made her feel disloyal to Sid so she began to pull her hand away. Devon let it go. The music came to an end and it was show time. By now the bar was packed and there were many more women.
Ten was transported to the glitzy world of the Drag Quean. Glittering displays, definitely over the top, entertained and diverted. They lip-synched to the female chanteuse but, in her opinion, it was there that any similarity to a real woman ended. These boys were, indeed, beautiful creatures, but they were not womanly. They brought to their allure that male energy which women lack and which, in a room filled with women, would always set them apart. But they were good. The presentation was superb; the music exciting and the dancing professional, although these young men were, for the most part, amateurs. The lighting effects, state of the art in high tech. were dazzling. They thoroughly enjoyed themselves, as did everyone else.
After the show the performers returned, still in full costume. (Who would miss a chance to parade some more)? One came up to Devon and kissed the air at the side of her cheek.
âHe..llo, da..rr..ling.' The voice was soft and throaty.
âHello Lavinia. May I introduce my friend, Tenille?' He turned to Ten, feathers fluttering and sequins rustling. He kissed the air again and she got a strong waft of a powerful perfume.
âHello Tenille.'
âHello.' She couldn't bring herself to say âLavinia', being too dumbfounded. To be actually in the company of a Drag Quean was beyond her wildest imaginings.
âFantastic show, Linnie. You were stunning.' Devon knew how to be lavish with her commendations and he preened with pleasure. âCan I buy you a drink?'
âNo, darling. On my way to respond to a âbillet-doux', sent over from this divine man who's been coming every week to see the show and has finally plucked up the courage to contact me. Isn't it just too, too thrilling?' He fluttered his false eyelashes and pursed his big red mouth. âThis could turn out to be the love of my life.' He kissed the air once more beside Devon's head and said: âBye darlings. Lovely to meet you, Tenille,' then was off, teetering precariously on impossible, stiletto heels, hips sashaying dissolutely; his exit as florid and flamboyant as the entrance.
“Phew ⦠what an encounter. Not to be forgotten in a hurry.”
Ten thought back to the woman she had been only a single year ago. She couldn't see the Tenille of that time dropping into a place like this and actually enjoying herself, let alone accepting the differences in their lifestyles. Her mother's fears seemed positively bigoted. Yes, she had come a long way.
âHow do you know her ⦠him, Dev?' she enquired, her thoughts returning to the immediate, as she sipped her drink. She was onto a Perrier, believing the Irish Coffee had been her undoing earlier.
âHe's my hairdresser. He introduced me to this place ⦠oh, about three months ago. How did you like the show? Isn't it wild?' Devon looked about her, taking in all the sights and sounds. âI know another bar where we can dance. Wanna?' She cocked her head inquiringly, her viridescent eyes aglitter in the flashing colored lights, spinning crazily on their hyperbolic axes.
âNo Dev. I've had enough for one night. It must be getting late. I think I'd like to go home now.' She looked at her watch, it was almost one.
âOh phooey. Party-pooper. We're just getting into our swing.'
âGoodness, where do you get all your energy? No Dev, really, I'd like to go now.' Her look was earnest. Devon relented.
âOkay, okay.' She held up her hands. âI get the message. Drink up, then.'
They chatted pleasantly on the way back. She felt the evening had gone well. She and Ten were existing comfortably in their shared space and this augured well for future intimacy. In the habit of getting what she wanted Devon had no doubts. Pulling up outside the house she voiced the suggestion that they do this again some time. Ten only nodded, not quite sure if she really wanted to repeat the experience.
âI'll get your door,' she offered and jumped out, walking round to the passenger side and gallantly opening up. As Ten stood she came body to body with Devon. She couldn't move anywhere. As Devon closed the door, she pressed her against the car's side.
âI'm glad you had a good time tonight, Ten. I certainly enjoyed taking you out, it was like old times,' she leaned closer: âWasn't it?' She put her arms around Ten's shoulders and lowered her mouth to her lips. Ten struggled, their bodies swaying slightly before she managed to exclaim: âDev, don't. This spoils everything.'
She pulled back, giving only a fraction more space. âYou couldn't wait for my kisses before. What's different now?'
âSidonie.' She stared steadily back at Devon, saying no more. Then, after a short pause: âPlease, let me go.' Her voice was strained, but determined.
Sitting upstairs, still nursing a beer during her prolonged vigil, was a silent observer of the scene being played out in the street below. It was after one o'clock. She had spent her time staring into the past, her thoughts racing out of control in her speculations on what was happening. Now all was explained. Tears burned her eyes, clouded by the horrible images visible in the midst of the darkness. She blinked and pushed back those tears, slowly re-focusing on the couple by the car. She hated to look, but couldn't turn her head, as though mercilessly held in the grip of iron hands. Every image was like a knife-cut into her heart, but she couldn't stop torturing herself; compelled to watch, torn apart by her own demons.
Tenille had been the faceless lover she had longed for; to whom she had totally subjugated her heart. The mate of her soul with whom she could share her innermost dreams. Now everything was crashing down around her. No longer loved in return. Much as she tried to subdue the mounting misery rising within her, she was failing, hopelessly. A look of silent grief crossed her face as emotion fought with reason and won. She heard a light tread on the stair, but at a slow and measured pace.
Ten was lost in thought as she opened the door and dropped her jacket on the chair at the entrance. Suddenly her mind was yanked to attention ⦠Sid's grip on the floor ⦠Sid here? She turned her head and saw her sitting by the window, looking out.
âSid. I didn't think you were coming down this weekend,' her voice breathless with surprise. Then the pain of revelation crossed her face. Sitting there, she must have seen everything. Sorrow emanated like a tangible aura. Sid turned her head. It was like watching a movie in slow motion. She could see the tragedy in the eyes looking into hers. Total despair and desolation was writ large, as they began to water with unshed tears, before she looked quickly away. She would do nothing to betray her unhappiness, but Ten sensed it, like an underlying turbulence.
Sid felt as if her heart had been roughly gripped and was about to be torn out. A hard knot lodged in her chest as the woman moved forward to where she sat immobile. Ten's eyes, darkly intense never wavered from that face before her, concentrating on nothing except the agony she discerned.
Sid's first sight of Ten had caught her breath in her throat and her heart had held a beat. She had struggled to remain impassive, but inside was experiencing a swift, betraying flame of desire that seared her gut and brought a hot wetness to her crotch. Her cheeks had seared with a shameful heat, that her body should betray her so. Her belly clenched with burning excitement. In that first look, after such a long time, she had taken in every detail outlined by the skin-tight dress. The scarlet scarf, now draped over her shoulder, revealed the fullness of her breasts, ready to spill over in a shameless exposure of forbidden fruit. Her gaze had followed the red line down to the fabric stretched tightly across the roundness of her belly, to the seductive curve of her hips, so deliciously feminine. The tight skirt, too short, took her eyes upward again to where the hollow in the dress pointed to Ten's own soft centre of desire.
“Desire for another woman,”
was the bitter thought, as she wrenched her eyes away. She had never experienced pain with such clear definition until now. She feared her face would reveal the truth of her feelings. But of all times not now. She did not want this woman to see how powerful was the force of her attraction. A power to dominate and hold. A force that despite her resolve to resist with all her being, in the end, she was powerless to override. She felt the heat of passion dead centre, then the slow burning of her desire rise to her breasts. Her need was traitorous to her mind and her eyes pooled with the effort of holding back her emotions. At Ten's approach her body stiffened.
âDon't ⦠don't come ⦠any nearer,' she ordered, her voice tight and cold. Fury closed off her face. But still she could not trust herself not to break down and cry out for Ten's love; not to beg her, in abject humiliation, on her knees if necessary, to love her again as she had done before.
Ten stretched out her hand, as if in supplication for understanding, but didn't touch. Tears, painful as vinegar, stung her eyes. âLet me explain, Sid,' she implored, wanting so much to take the hurt away from this suffering girl; to find some way of appeasing her.
Sid swiftly turned her body, her face hardening, removing all signs of weakness. Only a steely anger was visible, making Ten take an involuntary step back from the force of this hostility. With her tongue thickened in her mouth, Sid was compelled to articulate slowly, the effect on Ten being to lock her brain into disbelief, confronted as she was by something so sickening. Was she really hearing these words from those lips?
âNow listen to me, and listen good. I'll only say this once, then I'm leaving.' There was a hard edge of brittleness. âI see only too clearly how things are. I didn't come down with the last shower that I need you to explain things to me.' Heavy sarcasm dripped like poison into her ears. âI don't plan to stay around here to be humiliated by lies and cover up.' She took a deep breath then continued in the face of Ten's shocked stare and tear filled eyes.
âLook at you,' she spat out: âDressed up like a tart on the make ⦠showing off everything you've got. It's disgusting ⦠and not what I am wanting.' Though the words hurt to the point where she could have drowned in a torrent of tears, she was driven to devalue everything that a moment ago she had so overwhelmingly desired. She had to kill this wanting inside, any way she knew how. She was fighting for the survival of her sanity. If she had to live without Ten then she had to make her worthless. A look of bruised bitterness invaded her eyes and her raging flared again.
Other books
The Jongurian Mission by Greg Strandberg
Civilly Disobedient (Calm Act Genesis Book 1) by Booth, Ginger
The Lady Confesses by Carole Mortimer
Gospel by Sydney Bauer
Team Lucas (The Saints Team #1) by Ally Adams
Life Below Stairs by Alison Maloney
Broken Vessels (volume 2 of Jars of Clay) by Strauss, Lee, Elle Strauss
The City of Palaces by Michael Nava
Counting Backwards by Laura Lascarso