Outing of the Heart (58 page)

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Authors: Lisa Ann Harper

BOOK: Outing of the Heart
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‘You must have known by the way she looks at you.' Thea regarded her intently. ‘Or do you think she looks like that at every woman?'
‘I don't know,' Tenille said slowly. ‘I don't really know all that much about her. Especially not what she's like with other women.' A picture of Dearne flashed into her mind and gave her a sharp pang.
‘Well, I assure you, although Sid can have a roving eye, she's had eyes for no one but you, for the last three months.' She smiled at Tenille. ‘You know that song, ‘Hungry Eyes'?' She nodded. ‘Well, that pretty well sums up Sid and you are the one.'
Tenille couldn't stop the smile from broadening. Nor could she hold herself back from confessing impulsively: ‘I feel the same way.' Thea was the first person she had been able to tell. It felt wonderful. ‘Every time she looks at me I feel it's the way it should be between us. Do you know what I mean?' She searched Thea's face, her dark eyes large and enquiring. Thea could see the power of the pull Tenille would have on Sid. She could make her a very happy woman.
‘I do … I do,' she hastened to assure her. ‘Listen,' she added, in a changed voice: ‘Why don't you come back to our place, after the game? It will be much better for talking and getting to know each other. What do you say?' The eyes behind the thick lenses were keen and bright, the hair, still worn loose to the shoulders, was blowing in the wind and had to be brushed back impatiently. ‘We could order in Pizza or Chinese,' she added.
‘Sounds great, Thea, but I don't know what Sidonie's plans are. She may have to get right back.'
‘Oh, Sid'll agree. No problem there,' Thea confirmed her statement with definite nods. Tenille didn't share her confidence, remembering last time. “
We shall see,”
she thought and turned her attention to the game.
The teams played better this week, fewer fumbles, more accurate throws; even a few exciting moments. Sidonie didn't distinguish herself particularly, but the woman Tenille remembered as Trent did very well, hitting a spectacular home run in the closing moments, giving her team the winning score. When she came off the field, Trent looked up at her and smiled an acknowledgment. She felt herself blush. Now that was silly, just because Trent had given her a smile. She did have this strange effect on her though. She remembered all her confusion last week, when they first met, and at The Rose. Not a woman to easily forget. Her eyes followed her off the field and she knew they liked what they saw.
When the two players joined them, pleased they'd performed better, but disappointed they'd lost, Thea immediately came out with the suggestion they drown their sorrows at the apartment; St. Jamestown was very close. ‘What do you say?' She turned to Sidonie.
‘That's fine with me, what do you want to do Ten?'
Tenille could still see where the mask had been pressing into her brow. What a different reaction from last week. Well, she obviously didn't want to be alone with her tonight. This thought left her feeling disappointed, but she would go with the flow. She wanted to get to know her friends better.
‘Fine with me. Whatever you like.'
Sidonie continued, addressing Thea: ‘We can't stay late. Tenille has to get back.' She looked meaningfully at her, a slight frown on her face.
‘Yes,' Tenille endorsed and said no more.
‘Not a problem,' Reine acquiesced, cheerfully. ‘The pad's close, we'll be there in five.'
The apartment, although only small, was well appointed. The building complex itself in St. Jamestown, was quite old and by now a little run down, having suffered much wear and tear over the years. The apartment gave a feeling of warmth and caring. The couple had had a long time together in which to make their collection, resulting in a very eclectic assortment. Thea had an obvious love of plants, reflected by the number of pots, spilling their contents of leafy fronds and vines over every surface and numerous handsome jardinieres. Tenille estimated it would take at least an hour to water and this was only the living room. A glimpse of the balcony revealed an even greater profusion.
‘You guys want something to drink?' offered Reine, ‘ …or coffee?'
‘Mm..m great,' responded Sidonie. ‘I could really go a light OV.' She turned to Tenille: ‘How about you, Ten?' She nodded agreement, enjoying Sidonie's use of her shortened name.
She chose a soft cushioned chesterfield, one of the many seats arranged around the coffee table. Fashioned from an old wooden and iron weigh scale, some enterprising craftsman had refinished and marketed it into a new function. As Tenille admired, Sidonie dumped herself down beside her remarking in a low voice: ‘The sight of you gladdens my heart.'
She had changed into a fresh white shirt. It was open at the throat and had the collar turned up slightly. Tenille could feel the bright blue eyes fixed intently on her face as she turned her head and smiled, looking deeply into those strong, appealing features. Being so close, her warm breath brushed lightly across her cheek. She saw her lips curving into an answering grin and wished they were on her. At this moment Reine arrived bearing drinks, Thea in her wake with a bowl each of pretzels and chips.
‘You two look very cosy,' she observed, which resulted in their springing guiltily apart.
‘At ease,' commanded Reine, as she put out the drinks. They all had beers except Thea who preferred Coke.
Just then Scully appeared. No longer the little kitten, but a fully-grown, beautiful British Shorthair. She was a grey/torti, the markings very distinctive. She had a special air about her, knowing she was to spend her days being admired.
‘Hello Scully, come and meet Tenille,' Sidonie called out. As if understanding every word, she sashayed over and rubbed herself against her legs. Tenille scooped her up and gave her a cuddle.
‘Oh, isn't she darling.' she exclaimed, as she stroked the dense, but soft coat. Scully gave her a look, but didn't object.
‘Good game tonight,' Sidonie commented.
‘Lotsa room for improvement,' Reine warned then changed the subject.
‘Say, did you read about that dreadful case where a young woman, having been raped by two men and thrown over a brick wall, broke her ankle in the fall and couldn't move?'
‘Yeah, yeah,' acknowledged Sidonie, her eyes round in disbelief. ‘So awful.' She turned to the others and continued the story. ‘This guy was driving by and saw her in distress. He stopped, told her he was a nurse and would get help. In a little while he returned and proceeded to rape her himself. Can you believe it?'
‘The poor wretch got a triple whammy. Anyway …' this was Reine, ‘ …they apprehended him, but the other two got away.'
‘You know,' observed Thea, ‘I think women are in a worse position now than they have ever been.'
‘Why do you say that?' asked Tenille. ‘We have more independence. Rights are more equal too. We're not tied to the kitchen sink either.'
‘This is true, Tenille, but think again of those days gone by; a middle class family, the daughters very carefully nurtured and raised. The wives and mothers had help with domestic chores and male escorts protected most women; be they brothers or father. If not them then nanny or the governess. Today, the woman must rely on labor saying devices. If she wants equality with the male then it's expected it's fair game to use and abuse her, with no thought of the rights and decency which should be accorded to a human being.' Thea shook her head, sadly. ‘It's too bad equality legislation didn't come when women were still respected, just as our elders were. In my opinion, equality has arrived when the male view of womanhood is at an all time low. Now, in fact, is the time that we should be given more protection, not less.'
Thea stopped to draw breath. Her audience looked at her, somewhat stunned. ‘Well,' remarked Reine, ‘I'm glad I'm a woman for you and not a man.' They exchanged meaningful looks. Sidonie broke into this by observing: ‘That's as may be, but I'm more concerned about the practicalities.' She looked across at Tenille and confessed: ‘I've been very worried about your riding around on the TTC, late at night. I know …' she held up her hand to forestall any indignant outburst, ‘ …you say you're careful, but there are loonies out there.' She drew her eyebrows together and the storm gathering in her eyes was clearly visible. ‘You have no way of knowing what irrational behaviors could be let loose and you just jump into any carriage. Not even the guard's van.' The eyes were deepening in their blueness and now her mouth had a grim set. ‘You walk down Walmer Road late at night, absolutely vulnerable to attack,' she ended, heatedly, as she fought to keep her voice steady.
Thea was anxious to pour out the oil and deflect some of Sidonie's indignation. ‘Why is it that young males cause so much trouble in our society, do you think?' She looked at her, but she had sunk into her beer, still fuming. Thea persisted. ‘They're brought up in the family and through schools the same as we are, yet half the time, they seem like alien creatures.'
It was Reine who responded. ‘That's easy. Contrary to popular belief, they are the ones who are ruled by their gonads. They make little effort to curb their urges and desires, which are often fed by video games and magazines.' She was warming to the theme and took a large pull of her beer. ‘Unlike the days of yore, society puts few impediments in their way. In fact, I would say society compounds the problem by such attitudes as: ‘Boys will be boys' and condoning their sowing of ‘wild oats'. There's no reason for these double standards in this day and age.' Now she was really getting into it, while her audience was captive. ‘It's my belief …' she declared, looking at each in turn, ‘ …if troublesome young men could be placed on hormone control, get those testosterone levels down, until they've learned to behave in a socially acceptable manner, then our prisons would be mostly empty. Rape cases would be reduced to older men, probably to those who abuse children. For sure it's not the women of the world who require all these rules and regs. Just think who perpetrate the most traffic accidents. Who, in this society are the law-breakers?'
‘There are many women's prisons Reine and they're not standing empty,' noted Tenille.
‘I think you will find, my dear, that the women are usually downtrodden and have been apprehended on drug offences. They have to do something to make their miserable lives more bearable.'
‘Well, we sure trashed on half the human race,' Sidonie observed dolefully. ‘Now what?'
‘Now what, is time for us to learn more about our new friend,' Thea suggested. Reine was just opening her mouth to ask something as Thea said quickly. ‘Anyone want to order in?'
The other couple shook their head.
‘Ok–ay, more drinks?' Reine asked. Again they declined.
‘Driving,' Sidonie said directly. By now, after so much stroking, Scully's purr was audible and contented. She stretched languidly, changed position slightly, then opened one large, round amber eye to survey the scene. ‘It's funny how she does that,' Tenille laughed.
‘Picked up the habit from her other mom,' Thea explained. Now everyone laughed. She looked from the cat to Tenille and enquired how come she was wandering this fair city's streets so late at night, anyway?
‘Oh, Sid is concerned about my dancing classes.'
‘Dancing classes?' There was a question in Reine's voice. ‘What sort of dancing?'
‘She's a flamenco dancer,' Sidonie replied, proudly. ‘Spanish fire and all that.'
‘Oh, I really like that stuff,' said Reine as she turned to Tenille. ‘You have the looks for it, too,' she observed admiringly. ‘Where do you dance?'
‘At the Sancho Panza on Bloor at Bathurst, Saturday nights.' She pulled a face: ‘I'm just getting into it. I have a lot to learn,' she commented deprecatingly, then added: ‘But I do love it.'
‘I've been there to watch her,' Sidonie interjected, ‘and she steals the show.'
‘You're biased,' a delighted laugh.
‘Well – Raoul wouldn't pick you for the tour if he didn't think you were good enough, would he?'
‘A tour …?' prompted Thea.
‘Yes,' she replied. ‘We're going over the border for two or three weeks.'
‘When do you leave?' This was Reine's question.
‘This weekend.' Tenille's voice faded away. She rallied; she was being silly again. ‘Raoul, he's our director and teacher,' she clarified, ‘has some gigs booked. It will be a great opportunity. I'm very flattered he chose to ask me.' Thea looked across at Sidonie, her eyes behind her thick glasses, sympathetic, wondering how this turn of events was affecting the girl. She saw only a stony stare, the features impassive. Inside she would be hurting, she was sure of that. Still, not even Sid could hold back the tide of events inevitable.
‘Another beer?' Reine offered. She too, had been taken by surprise.
‘No. No thanks,' Sidonie declined. ‘I guess we should be going,' she observed decisively, looking at her watch. Tenille nodded in concurrence and as she stood, thanked her hosts for their hospitality. Sidonie had to shift Scully off her lap, much to that feline's indignation. She had thought to be settled for the night. With a little trilling cry, she scampered off to the bedroom, her other favorite resting-place … between the big pillows.
‘We were glad to have you along,' Reine enthused in her hearty way.
‘Yes,' added Thea. ‘We always enjoy stimulating discussions. And getting to know you better was a pleasure.'
“How warm and friendly these women are,”
Tenille thought.
Goodbyes over, they walked slowly down the hall to the elevator. There were no other occupants so Sidonie picked up the conversation where Tenille had left off. ‘When do you leave, exactly?'

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