Outing of the Heart (49 page)
Read Outing of the Heart Online
Authors: Lisa Ann Harper
Poor Sidonie. Sudden tears smarted her eyes. She would now enter a darkening of the light. Eros had deserted her and the love that had transformed her world and carried her to blissful heights would now turn inward to breed a pitiless self-loathing. Destructive acrimony would poison her every breath.
The hardness of cold steel tempered her blue eyes. It had been confirmed why there was no Tenille to answer her call. She felt her chest constrict as a solid lump came into her throat. Her heart was aching with hurt and regret; tears blurred her vision. Old memories were disorienting her, knocking her backward into a spinning vortex. Tenille had been her dream come true and her reality. Nothing had meaning without her. She blinked away tears in the dim light and cursed herself aloud for being blinded by love. She'd make sure it didn't happen again. Tenille had wounded her too much. That beautiful, vibrant woman, with the smile on her lips and the dreams in her eyes, was just like all the others, interested only in her own gratification and selfish desires. Those smiles, combined with her ravishing looks, it was they, which had so captured her heart and filled the empty places of her soul. Her shoulders hunched with the effort to stay in control, but in the face of all these memories she couldn't. Breaking down she wept, the tears of anguish unheeded, brimming over and spilling down her cheeks. Utterly wretched, desolation and alienation consumed her.
This was no good, carrying on like this. “
Harden your heart.”
One woman, no matter how desirable, would not be allowed to fell her to her knees. With what blinding passion she had loved her.
She would bring this night of bewilderment to an end. More tears welled in her eyes, but she dashed them away with an impatient hand. Last night had meant more to her than she realized, but now, confronted by Tenille's perfidy, all that would change. All memory of those ardent feelings, when her heart had burst with love; when every look from those dark, liquid eyes, fringed with impossibly long lashes had melted her, would be wiped out. Those transcendent experiences, so piercingly joyful, she had wanted to worship at her feet, filled only with adoration, would be erased, as of no account. She would smother this love.
The blinkers were off. Knotting her fists in frustration, she banged the wheel. Now she knew the woman for what she was ⦠unfeeling ⦠manipulative. She had seemed warm and sensitive; an understanding person for whom the finer sensibilities were important. But she was impervious; callous even, leaving you in the lurch ⦠uncaring. Well she was not about to hang around where she wasn't wanted. Two could play at that game. Her vision cleared as she began the process of emptying her soul.
Her composure once more in place, the engine gunned as a heavy foot, goaded by haunting images depressed the pedal and she took off at an impossible warp factor. Heading downtown, the trembling ceased, her racing heartbeat slowed and her thoughts became coherent. She would drop into The Rose, see who was there. Thursday nights could be quiet. It was late now and parking was easy when she reached Parliament. She anticipated limited patronage. Very true â a quiet night.
Blair greeted her warmly: âLong time no see,' but noting the stormy look on the girl's face cut the chitchat, asking simply what she would like: âA light beer as usual?'
âNo. Make it a Regal and soda,' came the curt reply.
Blair raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Fixing the drink, she slid a bowl of peanuts towards her. Sidonie ignored them and shoved the money across the counter, leaving a generous tip. Taking her drink, she moved off to a table at the back. A few couples were on the floor, slow dancing to the jukebox. It was playing Extremes' MORE THAN WORDS. She tried to close her ears, the emotion too much.
Dim lights provided shadowy corners for couples who sought discretion. Nursing her Scotch, she tried to figure it out, getting nowhere except dizzy from the concentric circles that spiralled in her head. She needed to get out of this black hole.
She went downstairs to check the pool table, ordering a Scotch to go. Blair followed her with her eyes, shaking her head. One of the girls from Softball, observing her arrival, jumped up.
âHello Sidonie. I never expected to see you here tonight. Twice in one week.' She laughed nervously, but barrelled on: âWe'll have to stop meeting like this.' She really, really liked her. It was only a joke, but she looked slyly sideward, under her eyelids, assessing its reception.
Sidonie smiled, although it went no further than the corners of her mouth and her blond brows were still dipped, forbiddingly. âSaucy Pumpkin. And what are you doing here?'
Santina gave Sidonie the distraction she needed. It was obvious this one was available. She was pretty too, in a girlish way. Full of gushing eagerness and very willing to please.
She accepted her offer of a nightcap at her place. Santina rushed around in embarrassment, trying to find somewhere to sit. There was only beer. On top of two doubles, what difference did it make? She didn't care. They started to make out on the chesterfield. She knew what was expected, but she had no heart for this. Santina was a nice kid, but she was just using her. She would be playing with her feelings. She may be hating herself right now, but that was no excuse to get an innocent girl involved in her messes. Yes, she had drunk too much, but it hadn't lightened her mood and she could still tell the difference between right and wrong. She had to cut it off before it got out of hand. Santina couldn't understand the change, but she controlled her disappointment and accepted it. They would see each other again, for sure.
Sidonie's feeling of desolation was complete and added to that, she felt contemptible. She had not managed to get out from under the cloud of doubt and frustration that enveloped her and now she had to hope to avoid breathalization. She was way over the limit. Perhaps it was so late, the cops wouldn't be thick on the ground. She knew enough not to drive like a maniac.
Glad to be home, she unlocked her door and a little note fluttered to her feet. It was written on security notepaper.
PLEASE CALL 924-1696 AS SOON AS YOU GET IN, NO MATTER HOW LATE. TEN. Maybe she had squared it with Mrs. S, just for tonight. Tapping the note on her thumb, she had to decide if she would or would not phone. Feeling so hurt, she couldn't organize her ambivalent emotions and come up with a decision. She didn't want to give her the satisfaction of having her run as soon as she beckoned, yet she didn't not want to hear what she would say. Above all, she felt guilty because of her selfish behavior with Santina. All round it was a pretty low opinion of herself in the air, whichever way you cut it. Could she cope with talking to her tonight? Should she wait 'til she was sober? Talk to her at the gym tomorrow ⦠if she saw her. She was aware of an unsettled jangle to her nerves. If Tenille got stubborn and didn't show at BODYSHAPE, they'd not be talking 'til who knew when. Indecision lay heavily upon her. She blew out her cheeks, collecting a quarter and trudged off to the kiosk. One ring and the phone was picked up immediately.
âTenille, Sid,' she said curtly, still fighting to overcome the disaffection festering inside.
She heard Tenille's intake of breath before she said: âSidonie, I became so worried. You said you'd call me. I waited and waited. Did something happen? Not an accident, I hope?'
She could hear concern in her voice, but still was abrupt. âI did call you about half past five,' delivered with over controlled iciness: âMr. Sandrelli answered. He told me you were not home yet, so I decided to try later.'
Tenille sensed the estrangement and was bewildered. âHe doesn't know my routine like Mrs. S., but you know Thursday is class night.'
Sidonie caught her breath. âWere you dancing tonight?'
âSidonie, you know I'm not home 'til later. I got a lift from Devon to be as early as possible.' In a flash it came to her. She'd been annoyed she wasn't home and that was why she'd not phoned again. But she had given up too easily. Not wanting to make matters worse, but she couldn't stop from suggesting that one more call could have been tried ⦠âif you really wanted to speak to me?' she responded recklessly.
Stung by this retort, Sidonie demanded what she meant by, “really wanted to speak to her” ⦠âOf course I did.'
Tenille heard the note of fury in her indignation. âSidonie, let's not argue on the phone,' she pleaded, hating difference between them. âThat didn't come out how I meant. I just thought you'd try again, that's all,' she explained, feeling edgy.
After a moment Sidonie continued, her voice still resentful. âI decided to drive down and wait for you. That was what I did.' There was heavy silence at her end, sending out under currents, deep enough to drown in.
So that was it. She had seen Devon drop her off. âIt was your car I saw driving away then,' she confirmed. âYou didn't want to speak to me?' She must have seen the kiss. Although it had only been on the cheek, perhaps from her angle it looked like more.
âI didn't realize the circumstances,' voice thinner as understanding enlightened her. âI'd forgotten all about dancing. I just reacted to appearances.' She took a deep breath before voicing the fear she hoped to have denied. âI thought you'd gone out with someone else. That last night had not been ⦠been significant. And yes, I'll admit it. I was hurt, so I took off,' she finished lamely, feeling wretched.
âI wouldn't go out like that after ⦠after last night. How could you think such a thing?' she asked in a broken voice.
Instantly contrite, she felt worse than when she'd left Santina's. If she'd gone all the way with her � At least her integrity was intact, if not her self-respect.
âYou're too quick to jump to conclusions. Could your heart not tell you there must be an explanation?' She dropped her voice and with a husky catch added: âYou know you are very important to me, don't you?'
Her disaffiliation was beginning to slip away, to be replaced by so many emotions she couldn't tell what she felt. âOh Tenille, I'm sorry. My damned temper. I try to control it ⦠somehow it gets the better of me, then reason flies out the window. Please forgive me.' Remorse colored her tone. âI should have realized there was an answer. It's just ⦠just ⦠well, after last night I thought ⦠I believed â¦'
Sensing her distress, quickly she tried to alleviate it. âI understand.' There was relief for her too. She had been so distraught with worry; propped by the telephone for almost two hours. But she would have waited all night for this call. How she wished she had a car of her own.
âIs everything understood between us now? I hate it when we're at cross purposes.' Inside, she ached for the return of intimacy ⦠that sweet exchange, at times so elusive.
âYes.' Her throat constricted. âI'll see you at the gym. We can talk some more when it's not so late.'
âI'm real glad you didn't wait to call.'
âYes, I'll let you go. I really am sorry about this evening. I was ⦠childish.'
âWe'll get to know each other better,' she assured her. âGoodnight.'
âGoodnight,' She closed off and added under her breath: “
Please forgive me, dear heart.”
They hung up and went their separate ways. Both felt better; more positive about their relationship. A profound understanding was developing between them that would help in negotiating any deep water which might lie ahead. Sidonie knew she had nearly ruined everything by her insanely hot-headed over-reaction. She would need to develop some maturity, learn to weigh situations and try to apply reason, even logic, before flying off in all directions in rash surrender to wild impulses.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Re-uniting gave them solace and their natural desire was to embrace. This being impossible, they stood instead, searching the face of the beloved, unsmiling and intense. The need to touch lay unspoken between them and intimacy held their eyes. Such irony; if they had felt less, they could have demonstrated more, their consciences clear. This very sincerity robbed them of spontaneity whilst in the public gaze and heavy constraints bound their every move. To present a persona of, if not indifference, at least of âgood friends', would take its toll, especially on Tenille. She did not yet know the rules of the game.
Courage, Sidonie realized, must be summoned to invite Tenille out. A place where they could be natural; enjoy uninhibited freedom. But would she agree to go? She would have to get over the hurdle of the label ⦠accept it even. What would be her reaction? Would it be âmake or break', for them?
Sidonie needed the feeling of solidarity with lesbian sisters, which the Chez-Moi or The Rose gave her. Being butch, socializing in an environment where she could feel at ease was especially important; where the truth was known and there was not only acceptance, but even esteem. She knew she was watched and talked about. At eighteen it was important what people thought. They could talk about her in the straight world too, of course, but not with the same admiration.
The two women had good workouts and swims together. Sidonie felt the omens propitious for broaching the delicate subject. She would assess her reaction over dinner. With her new eating regimen they decided to go Italian. La Focaccia, at Christie and Bloor was on the way back to Tenille's.
Dusk was falling as they went out to the car, like a dropped shade, deepening the shadows about them. Tenille noticed how the early evening sun caught Sidonie's hair and as it dried in the breeze, turned the strands into short tresses of brilliant copper. She took in every detail of this changeable, even moody girl and was aware of her own arousal.
Wheeling away from the row of cars, Sidonie headed eastward. In their newfound intimacy Tenille ventured to reach out her left hand towards the bare thigh, so close. Contact was light, hesitant. Sidonie turned and looked at her as she experienced a shiver, nothing to do with cold.
The hardness of cold steel tempered her blue eyes. It had been confirmed why there was no Tenille to answer her call. She felt her chest constrict as a solid lump came into her throat. Her heart was aching with hurt and regret; tears blurred her vision. Old memories were disorienting her, knocking her backward into a spinning vortex. Tenille had been her dream come true and her reality. Nothing had meaning without her. She blinked away tears in the dim light and cursed herself aloud for being blinded by love. She'd make sure it didn't happen again. Tenille had wounded her too much. That beautiful, vibrant woman, with the smile on her lips and the dreams in her eyes, was just like all the others, interested only in her own gratification and selfish desires. Those smiles, combined with her ravishing looks, it was they, which had so captured her heart and filled the empty places of her soul. Her shoulders hunched with the effort to stay in control, but in the face of all these memories she couldn't. Breaking down she wept, the tears of anguish unheeded, brimming over and spilling down her cheeks. Utterly wretched, desolation and alienation consumed her.
This was no good, carrying on like this. “
Harden your heart.”
One woman, no matter how desirable, would not be allowed to fell her to her knees. With what blinding passion she had loved her.
She would bring this night of bewilderment to an end. More tears welled in her eyes, but she dashed them away with an impatient hand. Last night had meant more to her than she realized, but now, confronted by Tenille's perfidy, all that would change. All memory of those ardent feelings, when her heart had burst with love; when every look from those dark, liquid eyes, fringed with impossibly long lashes had melted her, would be wiped out. Those transcendent experiences, so piercingly joyful, she had wanted to worship at her feet, filled only with adoration, would be erased, as of no account. She would smother this love.
The blinkers were off. Knotting her fists in frustration, she banged the wheel. Now she knew the woman for what she was ⦠unfeeling ⦠manipulative. She had seemed warm and sensitive; an understanding person for whom the finer sensibilities were important. But she was impervious; callous even, leaving you in the lurch ⦠uncaring. Well she was not about to hang around where she wasn't wanted. Two could play at that game. Her vision cleared as she began the process of emptying her soul.
Her composure once more in place, the engine gunned as a heavy foot, goaded by haunting images depressed the pedal and she took off at an impossible warp factor. Heading downtown, the trembling ceased, her racing heartbeat slowed and her thoughts became coherent. She would drop into The Rose, see who was there. Thursday nights could be quiet. It was late now and parking was easy when she reached Parliament. She anticipated limited patronage. Very true â a quiet night.
Blair greeted her warmly: âLong time no see,' but noting the stormy look on the girl's face cut the chitchat, asking simply what she would like: âA light beer as usual?'
âNo. Make it a Regal and soda,' came the curt reply.
Blair raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Fixing the drink, she slid a bowl of peanuts towards her. Sidonie ignored them and shoved the money across the counter, leaving a generous tip. Taking her drink, she moved off to a table at the back. A few couples were on the floor, slow dancing to the jukebox. It was playing Extremes' MORE THAN WORDS. She tried to close her ears, the emotion too much.
Dim lights provided shadowy corners for couples who sought discretion. Nursing her Scotch, she tried to figure it out, getting nowhere except dizzy from the concentric circles that spiralled in her head. She needed to get out of this black hole.
She went downstairs to check the pool table, ordering a Scotch to go. Blair followed her with her eyes, shaking her head. One of the girls from Softball, observing her arrival, jumped up.
âHello Sidonie. I never expected to see you here tonight. Twice in one week.' She laughed nervously, but barrelled on: âWe'll have to stop meeting like this.' She really, really liked her. It was only a joke, but she looked slyly sideward, under her eyelids, assessing its reception.
Sidonie smiled, although it went no further than the corners of her mouth and her blond brows were still dipped, forbiddingly. âSaucy Pumpkin. And what are you doing here?'
Santina gave Sidonie the distraction she needed. It was obvious this one was available. She was pretty too, in a girlish way. Full of gushing eagerness and very willing to please.
She accepted her offer of a nightcap at her place. Santina rushed around in embarrassment, trying to find somewhere to sit. There was only beer. On top of two doubles, what difference did it make? She didn't care. They started to make out on the chesterfield. She knew what was expected, but she had no heart for this. Santina was a nice kid, but she was just using her. She would be playing with her feelings. She may be hating herself right now, but that was no excuse to get an innocent girl involved in her messes. Yes, she had drunk too much, but it hadn't lightened her mood and she could still tell the difference between right and wrong. She had to cut it off before it got out of hand. Santina couldn't understand the change, but she controlled her disappointment and accepted it. They would see each other again, for sure.
Sidonie's feeling of desolation was complete and added to that, she felt contemptible. She had not managed to get out from under the cloud of doubt and frustration that enveloped her and now she had to hope to avoid breathalization. She was way over the limit. Perhaps it was so late, the cops wouldn't be thick on the ground. She knew enough not to drive like a maniac.
Glad to be home, she unlocked her door and a little note fluttered to her feet. It was written on security notepaper.
PLEASE CALL 924-1696 AS SOON AS YOU GET IN, NO MATTER HOW LATE. TEN. Maybe she had squared it with Mrs. S, just for tonight. Tapping the note on her thumb, she had to decide if she would or would not phone. Feeling so hurt, she couldn't organize her ambivalent emotions and come up with a decision. She didn't want to give her the satisfaction of having her run as soon as she beckoned, yet she didn't not want to hear what she would say. Above all, she felt guilty because of her selfish behavior with Santina. All round it was a pretty low opinion of herself in the air, whichever way you cut it. Could she cope with talking to her tonight? Should she wait 'til she was sober? Talk to her at the gym tomorrow ⦠if she saw her. She was aware of an unsettled jangle to her nerves. If Tenille got stubborn and didn't show at BODYSHAPE, they'd not be talking 'til who knew when. Indecision lay heavily upon her. She blew out her cheeks, collecting a quarter and trudged off to the kiosk. One ring and the phone was picked up immediately.
âTenille, Sid,' she said curtly, still fighting to overcome the disaffection festering inside.
She heard Tenille's intake of breath before she said: âSidonie, I became so worried. You said you'd call me. I waited and waited. Did something happen? Not an accident, I hope?'
She could hear concern in her voice, but still was abrupt. âI did call you about half past five,' delivered with over controlled iciness: âMr. Sandrelli answered. He told me you were not home yet, so I decided to try later.'
Tenille sensed the estrangement and was bewildered. âHe doesn't know my routine like Mrs. S., but you know Thursday is class night.'
Sidonie caught her breath. âWere you dancing tonight?'
âSidonie, you know I'm not home 'til later. I got a lift from Devon to be as early as possible.' In a flash it came to her. She'd been annoyed she wasn't home and that was why she'd not phoned again. But she had given up too easily. Not wanting to make matters worse, but she couldn't stop from suggesting that one more call could have been tried ⦠âif you really wanted to speak to me?' she responded recklessly.
Stung by this retort, Sidonie demanded what she meant by, “really wanted to speak to her” ⦠âOf course I did.'
Tenille heard the note of fury in her indignation. âSidonie, let's not argue on the phone,' she pleaded, hating difference between them. âThat didn't come out how I meant. I just thought you'd try again, that's all,' she explained, feeling edgy.
After a moment Sidonie continued, her voice still resentful. âI decided to drive down and wait for you. That was what I did.' There was heavy silence at her end, sending out under currents, deep enough to drown in.
So that was it. She had seen Devon drop her off. âIt was your car I saw driving away then,' she confirmed. âYou didn't want to speak to me?' She must have seen the kiss. Although it had only been on the cheek, perhaps from her angle it looked like more.
âI didn't realize the circumstances,' voice thinner as understanding enlightened her. âI'd forgotten all about dancing. I just reacted to appearances.' She took a deep breath before voicing the fear she hoped to have denied. âI thought you'd gone out with someone else. That last night had not been ⦠been significant. And yes, I'll admit it. I was hurt, so I took off,' she finished lamely, feeling wretched.
âI wouldn't go out like that after ⦠after last night. How could you think such a thing?' she asked in a broken voice.
Instantly contrite, she felt worse than when she'd left Santina's. If she'd gone all the way with her � At least her integrity was intact, if not her self-respect.
âYou're too quick to jump to conclusions. Could your heart not tell you there must be an explanation?' She dropped her voice and with a husky catch added: âYou know you are very important to me, don't you?'
Her disaffiliation was beginning to slip away, to be replaced by so many emotions she couldn't tell what she felt. âOh Tenille, I'm sorry. My damned temper. I try to control it ⦠somehow it gets the better of me, then reason flies out the window. Please forgive me.' Remorse colored her tone. âI should have realized there was an answer. It's just ⦠just ⦠well, after last night I thought ⦠I believed â¦'
Sensing her distress, quickly she tried to alleviate it. âI understand.' There was relief for her too. She had been so distraught with worry; propped by the telephone for almost two hours. But she would have waited all night for this call. How she wished she had a car of her own.
âIs everything understood between us now? I hate it when we're at cross purposes.' Inside, she ached for the return of intimacy ⦠that sweet exchange, at times so elusive.
âYes.' Her throat constricted. âI'll see you at the gym. We can talk some more when it's not so late.'
âI'm real glad you didn't wait to call.'
âYes, I'll let you go. I really am sorry about this evening. I was ⦠childish.'
âWe'll get to know each other better,' she assured her. âGoodnight.'
âGoodnight,' She closed off and added under her breath: “
Please forgive me, dear heart.”
They hung up and went their separate ways. Both felt better; more positive about their relationship. A profound understanding was developing between them that would help in negotiating any deep water which might lie ahead. Sidonie knew she had nearly ruined everything by her insanely hot-headed over-reaction. She would need to develop some maturity, learn to weigh situations and try to apply reason, even logic, before flying off in all directions in rash surrender to wild impulses.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Re-uniting gave them solace and their natural desire was to embrace. This being impossible, they stood instead, searching the face of the beloved, unsmiling and intense. The need to touch lay unspoken between them and intimacy held their eyes. Such irony; if they had felt less, they could have demonstrated more, their consciences clear. This very sincerity robbed them of spontaneity whilst in the public gaze and heavy constraints bound their every move. To present a persona of, if not indifference, at least of âgood friends', would take its toll, especially on Tenille. She did not yet know the rules of the game.
Courage, Sidonie realized, must be summoned to invite Tenille out. A place where they could be natural; enjoy uninhibited freedom. But would she agree to go? She would have to get over the hurdle of the label ⦠accept it even. What would be her reaction? Would it be âmake or break', for them?
Sidonie needed the feeling of solidarity with lesbian sisters, which the Chez-Moi or The Rose gave her. Being butch, socializing in an environment where she could feel at ease was especially important; where the truth was known and there was not only acceptance, but even esteem. She knew she was watched and talked about. At eighteen it was important what people thought. They could talk about her in the straight world too, of course, but not with the same admiration.
The two women had good workouts and swims together. Sidonie felt the omens propitious for broaching the delicate subject. She would assess her reaction over dinner. With her new eating regimen they decided to go Italian. La Focaccia, at Christie and Bloor was on the way back to Tenille's.
Dusk was falling as they went out to the car, like a dropped shade, deepening the shadows about them. Tenille noticed how the early evening sun caught Sidonie's hair and as it dried in the breeze, turned the strands into short tresses of brilliant copper. She took in every detail of this changeable, even moody girl and was aware of her own arousal.
Wheeling away from the row of cars, Sidonie headed eastward. In their newfound intimacy Tenille ventured to reach out her left hand towards the bare thigh, so close. Contact was light, hesitant. Sidonie turned and looked at her as she experienced a shiver, nothing to do with cold.
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