‘Problems at home?’
‘No, nothing like that. Just a houseful of tiresome relatives. Sometimes I think Italian families are too extended.’ She laughed with the pure pleasure of being with this woman again. ‘There’s a lot to be said for the North American nuclear set-up.’
Tenille liked the idea of the extended one, herself, but didn’t say so. Instead she grabbed Marissa’s arm. ‘Let’s go in.’
The exhibition rewarded their efforts. The artist favored stylised, rotund, happy people doing quite the most unexpected activities: walking a tightrope: ballet dancing. They were so jolly; she had a way with her characters.
Afterwards it was on to a little Café-bar that Marissa knew and each enjoyed a savory, puff pastry parcel. Tenille’s filling was a mixture of sweet potato, pumpkin and vintage cheese; Marissa’s, chicken, broccoli and Camembert. Both were served with sour cream and garnished with mesclun, a little radicchio and watercress sprouts in a lemon dressing. This time they drank mocha coffees and indulged themselves with a slice of Cappuccino Cream, Bavarian cheesecake. Where they found the space amazed them. Tenille felt she might never eat again. By the time they left it was dark.
‘This was so much fun,’ Marissa gushed: ‘I hope we can do it again.’ Tenille had been very happy today too and readily agreed. ‘Well, I’ll see you Tuesday.’
They parted company at the Cumberland entrance to Bay Subway. Tenille headed back briskly, her thoughts turning toward Christmas shopping. All these festively decorated store windows. They made them look so attractive; so wealthy too, she reflected. Poor people would have a hard time trying to emulate all that opulence. Christmas was a difficult season for the less fortunate. “We should count our blessings and not become complacent,” she mused. She would use this week to get herself organized. She must get out to Scarborough Bluffs … look for something for Devon’s party: time was running out. She had better phone her mom too. She knew she wouldn’t be pleased, but as Devon had said, one day couldn’t hurt. Yes, she would phone as soon as she got in; get it over and done with.
* * *
It was the last week before break up. Tenille was feeling well satisfied with her efforts, having accomplished all she had set herself. For some of the gifts she had been positively inspired. Her visit to the Bluffs had been a real treat. Carmel and Roger would be spending their vacation with Russell and the new granddaughter. Carmel couldn’t wait.
The living room had looked spectacular. Cedar boughs with pine cones and red ribbon decorated the picture rails; a magnificent tree in the corner, the gifts piled haphazardly beneath. The adorning silver balls reflected their bright colors. Carmel had made an early Christmas dinner in honor of her visit, choosing an oyster stuffing for the turkey, knowing it was her niece’s favorite. For dessert, pumpkin pie and freshly whipped cream.
After dinner came the gifts. Carmel’s was a potpourri for her dressing room; dried rose buds mixed with pearls, scented with strawberry essence. Uncle Roger had been more difficult, but finally, a small print of a Toronto street scene in a snow storm, for his study. They both seemed genuinely pleased. She herself was totally delighted with their choice for her. They had put their heads together and presto … a beautifully tooled leather and canvas holdall for her trips home. It was obviously of excellent quality.
The evening at an end, it was hard to say goodbye. She was to deliver their gifts to Lindsay, so like the other travellers on the train, she was loaded down with Christmas parcels.
Now she was wishing Alana, Beris and the others a Merry Christmas and Phyllis was closing up. Those who didn’t have to go away would return Boxing Day for the sale, but she wouldn’t see them ’til next year.
Tonight was Devon’s party and she would give her her gift. She couldn’t help the thrill of excitement at this thought, which sent tingles to the tips of her fingers and toes. She had deliberated long and hard over what to get a woman who has everything; something different and special. In the end, it had jumped out at her from the shelf, as she walked through Eaton’s. An endearing, fluffy toy called Googles: soft beige coloring with a white chest, a large floppy head, dominated by a big, wide bill. Round black eyes were partially hidden under his long, thick, artificial coat. Googles neck was super floppy on a round tummy. Big fat paws stuck out from the side of his body. He was too cute, she couldn’t resist his cuddly charm. There were no other stuffed toys on Devon’s bed, so she was sure he would be loved.
* * *
Tenille dressed her hair up for the evening; piled high, thin strands falling in curling cascades. She had found an elaborately decorated comb, similar to those used to keep a lace Mantilla in place; black filigree, studded with little glass beads giving it a jewelled look. Not having the money to buy a stunning evening dress, she decided to wear her new top with a long skirt. To that end she had looked up second-hand clothing stores and found one on Yonge Street at Lawrence, specializing in cast-off clothing from wealthy women. She saw exactly what she wanted; a slim-line, full-length skirt in soft, burgundy-colored velvet. It fell to the floor about her legs in gentle folds, very plain, but the velvet needed nothing more.
She put the ensemble together and slipped on the shoes. Yes. Simple, but chic. She had expensive jewelry from her married days which she no longer wore, but tonight would be appropriate. A pair of small, sapphire and diamond earrings, a matching bracelet, and her diamond engagement ring, placed on her right hand. She would blend in with Devon’s friends. She’d not feel let down by her.
Devon had arranged for someone by the name of Darren, to be her escort. She had said she would like him, but that remained to be seen. As it turned out, Devon was right. Darren was a personable young man. He had unruly, sandy colored hair and alert, bushy eyebrows which jiggled animatedly, as he talked. Furio opened the door to him, then knocked on Tenille’s saying: ‘Someone for you.’ He’d given Darren an unfriendly stare, judging him to be the boyfriend and thinking, if that was how the land lay, then his turn would come.
She slipped into her coat as she called out and grabbed up Devon’s gift and her purse. Darren was in excellent spirits as he drove over to South Drive, keeping the chatter going. Tenille enjoyed the unfolding panorama of Christmas lights decorating the houses and gardens.
‘How do you know Devon?’
‘I don’t know her that well, actually,’ he confessed. ‘She used to go out with my older brother, so for a while was coming round to the house. They’re good friends now and still play squash.’ He paused, wondering if he could make a bold leap. “What the hell, she can only cut me. But I don’t think she will, she seems too nice.”
He had been mightily impressed with this first meeting; the way she spoke, the warmth of her nature and how her eyes shone like the evening stars. ‘Nelson has a date for tonight, but I haven’t, so I got to be the one to pick you up,’ chuckling: ‘Lucky me, I say.’ He threw her a quick, expectant glance, the eyebrows working overtime. ‘I’m right in that you don’t have a date, either?’ He looked at her again, the curly hair positively bristling.
Tenille remained silent then relented. ‘Are you saying you want us to walk in together?’
‘Well …’ Darren had wanted more than that, but he wasn’t going to spell it out. He would accept what he could get with this attractive woman. It would do his image no end of good.
She laughed, he was so transparent. They arrived in good time, Darren taking them along the back roads, up Bedford and across to Crescent. The house was easy to pick. Apart from the huge conifer in the front yard, lit up for identification from outer space, the music blasting from doors and windows left no doubt this was, indeed, the place to be. Too many limousines along the sidewalks for parking, meant Darren had to drop Tenille off.
‘Wait for me, I won’t be long.’ He hoped not, anyway, otherwise she would go in without him. Despite the cold, Tenille was true to her promise and waited. Her coat may no longer be stylish, but it was warm.
The guests were already he
re, spilling noisily into every room. Of interest to see where Devon had grown up, Tenille observed a house full of security, but was it also full of happiness? Certainly her childhood had been a privileged one. She would have liked to meet her parents, but they had gone to a function of their own. Darren joined her and they went in, she with her hand on his arm. Hired help took their coats at the door, then spirited them away as they proceeded through to the living room. It was huge, plushly carpeted, with large mullioned windows giving out onto a wide deck which overlooked the garden. Spotlights illuminated manicured stretches of lawn and landscaped garden beds.
Animated chatter enveloped them as she checked around. Fashion magazines had come to life. She would feel better if she could see Devon.
Nelson observed his brother’s arrival. Normally he would have ignored it, but the attractive woman on his arm made him approach for an introduction.
‘My brother Nelson. This is Tenille Fenech.’ They nodded.
‘This is Barbara Cousintine.’ Nelson introduced the young woman next to him and beamed at Tenille. ‘The date,’ she guessed. Very different from Devon; short, a little on the plump side, possibly Greek heritage; also more bubbly. Barbara was very pretty. Her dress, a Christmassy red, off the shoulder style, revealed quite an expanse of voluptuous bosom. She warmed to Tenille right away as she did to her.
‘Come, I’ll show you where the drinks are.’ Nelson lead them through to the dining room where a bar had been set up and, at the moment, the table was covered with cold hors d’oeuvres, with a large bowl of hot spicy punch in the centre; cinnamon sticks on the side. Sprigs of holly with red berries filled in the spaces around the platters and uniformed attendants circulated trays of hot finger food. This was a popular spot, the crush giving excitement to the occasion. She still hadn’t seen Devon. Meanwhile, her little group was swelling in number, more friends arriving; more introductions.
Tenille received a goodly share of admiring glances which both brothers were alert to notice. It made Darren expand with pride. She charmed everybody; sparkling with lively interest, yet so unaffected. Nelson determined to keep his eye on this one. He knew she wasn’t really attached. What had started out to be another routine party in the rather boring Christmas round, had suddenly brightened. Who knew what the night would render up?
Rum and eggnog seemed to be the go. Tenille had almost drunk her second and was beginning to feel a little light headed. Delicious as the savory pastries were, they were not lining her stomach. She needed to slow down. Darren noticed her glass and was prepared to be of service.
‘Enough for now, thanks,’ setting it down on an occasional table.
‘Would you like to dance?’ he asked, hopefully. She threw him a radiant smile of acceptance, tightening the bond of attraction which had been pulling him closer. He could really go for Tenille. She had beauty, brains and was fun to be with. This was his lucky night.
As they returned to the living room, she checked the hour. Almost midnight. Where had the time gone? Devon had hired a D-J who knew his way around techno-pop, getting everyone bopping to Alex Party – WRAP ME UP; Candy Girls – WHAM BAM, and La Bouche – SWEET DREAMS. Right now it was Tatjana’s SANTA MARIA. It was then she spotted Devon, dancing with a much older man, the wealthy, well preserved type, rather in the style of Jerred, she was interested to note; still keeping himself fit and expensively groomed. Devon herself looked fantastic, shimmering and slithering to the music in a silver, lame sheath; the neckline low and scooped, finishing mid-thigh. Black, shear panty hose and high platform, wide strap, silver shoes completed the lower half. This time her hair was tinted pink and spiked. A doll of the twenty first century. With her thin arms and legs she could have been a model. Their eyes met and she sent her a broad, happy smile; said something to her partner and left him on the floor. She gave her a big hug.
‘I see you and Nelson are hitting it off.’ No matter that the two were dancing, she made them stop and took Tenille to one side. Nelson could do nothing but tag along.
‘Supper’s about to be served. I’ll see you then, but I’ve got to go to the kitchen now. You look gorgeous.’ She kissed her quickly then left them standing by the archway. The kiss had been fleeting, but it was on the lips and its softness remained. Now her stomach was turning over with her thoughts in disarray. Devon. So overwhelming, so unpredictable. She hadn’t seen her all evening then suddenly she was there, making her feel special.
The D-J broke up the dancing with Christmas carols. Wafts of hot turkey tempted the palate, drawing people to the serviced buffet where staff were handing over prepared plates. The guests added their own extras. Dessert included traditional mince pies and pudding with a choice of brandy sauce or custard. Tenille was famished. She didn’t attempt small talk but ate steadily. Devon came over at the end and took her away, promising to return her to the others soon.
‘Come upstairs.’ She followed, happy to put distance between her and the noise for a while. Also, she needed a washroom. Devon waited, then led her down the corridor. Inside her room she indicated a chair, then presented a small, beautifully wrapped gift. ‘Open it.’
‘No … Devon wait.’ Tenille accepted the present. ‘I have something I want to give you. Where are the coats?’
‘My parent’s room.’ They retraced their steps to a large, femininely decorated bedroom. It took her some time to find her things, buried deep, but then she was able to hand Devon her quite large gift, topped off with a big yellow bow. They returned to Devon’s room.
‘You first,’ she insisted.
‘No, you,’ Devon enjoined. ‘I gave you yours first.’
‘All right then,’ she capitulated, laughing delightedly. She hated to spoil the wrapping, but had to tear it. Devon had given her three cassettes of Flamenco music. She was ecstatic.
‘I was going to get CDs, but remembered in time you only have your little radio tape player,’ she elaborated, not wanting to appear ungenerous.
‘Oh Devon, this is perfect.’ She couldn’t hold back from going over and throwing her arms around her. Devon twisted so they were standing face to face, causing their bodies to touch along their full length. The exuberant thanks became a lingering embrace, as Devon received her total compliance. She had felt powerless to be anything else. They just stood together, locked in each other’s arms. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, enough to suffocate her throat.
Devon was the first to pull away. ‘I have a gift to open.’ She sat on the side of her bed and carefully removed the bow. It wasn’t in her nature to care, but she guessed Tenille had wrapped this herself so she would show her efforts some respect. Tenille watched anxiously as Googles was revealed. Devon knew from the feel, the gift would be some kind of toy and was so relieved it wasn’t gross. It was this look of relief Tenille mistook for pleasure. She was made happy by it, so Devon did her best not to cause any disillusion, no matter she couldn’t give a fig about stuffed toys. She called her over and pulled her down onto the bed beside her.
‘Thank you.’ This time she put her hand under Tenille’s chin and tilted it up. Slowly she approached her mouth and lowered her lips to hers. Tenille received the kiss in a state of shock. She didn’t respond, but she didn’t pull away either. Stunned, she simply sat there, Devon completely in control. Then she dropped her hand from her face.
‘Lets get back, the others will be wondering where we’ve gotten to.’ They left their gifts where they lay. At their appearance Nelson approached and claimed Tenille for a dance. Later, she realized he must have been lying in wait, because almost immediately Darren came up and looked disappointed. He gallantly asked Devon to dance, but she made some excuse.
‘See you later,’ she threw to Tenille as they moved apart. To her ears it sounded conspiratorial and her heart raced again as her eyes shone.
The frenetic pace of the earlier dancing had now changed to a mellower mood. Nelson took Tenille in his arms and held her close. Other couples in the dance space were simil
arly entwined, but they probably knew each other. She tried to get out of his vicelike grip. It seemed to make him hold her even closer.
‘Nelson.’ She could smell his booze-laden breath as his head bent close to hers.
‘Relax, Poppet. You know, you and I hit it off just great.’ He began pressing himself against her. His erection was enormous and she recoiled.
‘Nelson. Stop this.’ She needed help, but everyone was absorbed in their own world. She struggled more violently, resulting in collisions, but the couples took no notice, thinking they had drunk as much as they. Her clothing was becoming dishevelled; he was so strong. Suddenly, Darren was there, pulling his brother off, his voice loud with incensed indignation.
‘Get lost, kid,’ was the only reply, as Nelson swung them away from his range. Darren pursued.
‘Let her go. Damn it.’ He tried again to come between his brother and Tenille. This time Nelson did let go, as he made a big swing to his brother’s head. Darren ducked the right hook and landed one of his own. She looked on, horrified at this confrontation, panic making her turn frantically, seeking Devon. What relief. She was approaching with that man. People began to realize a fight was in progress, as some of the punches landed squarely, winding the opponent who then exhaled with loud grunts.
‘Cut this out, you boys.’ Devon’s friend’s voice carried a strong ring of authority and seemed to bring the young men to their senses. They pushed themselves apart, still belligerent, but no longer violent.
‘Nelson come with me,’ Devon’ cajoled. I’ll get you a drink, help you cool off.’ His face had turned blotchy red with the rise of his choler; his mouth, where Darren’s knuckles had made contact, was beginning to swell. He turned away reluctantly, observing Tenille surrounded by a group of concerned guests.
Outing of the Heart Page 9
