Outing of the Heart

by Lisa Ann Harper

  Tenille dressed casually for the Mall, but since April is still a cool month chose a woolly sweater for over top, with matching hat and mitts. She had decided to help. They were likeable people and being involved appealed. The walk to Spadina subway provided an opportunity to enjoy the crisp air. It felt good to be alive, a feeling she’d not experienced since becoming more deeply involved with Devon. Now she was her own woman; getting out, making friends. She was close to realizing a wonderful dream and it looked like getting better and better … and yes, she was looking forward to seeing Sidonie again and to see how body builders put it all together.

  Swinging round the corner, she skipped down the subway steps and dropped her token in the turnstile. She wandered up to the front of the platform, the Yorkdale exit being at the far end. The athletes must be so disciplined she believed, as she contemplated their self-denial and dedication. Maintaining a regular in-take of special foods. Resisting temptation. “It must be like being on a diet, but in reverse. But even eating a lot could be a strain if you didn’t really want to.” ‘I could never do it, or be that single minded,’ she declared, shaking her head.

  The train arrived. Plenty of seats. Tenille did a re-think. What was she doing with her dancing? To someone else it could look like she was obsessed. Well, perhaps that’s what it takes to be an achiever in this world, total ‘heart and soul’ commitment and hopefully some enjoyment along way.

  She followed the crowd, not having been to Yorkdale before. Nothing to see outside, but inside was a huge, gleaming fantasy world. An amazing array of desirable things. Something for all tastes and ages. Sidonie’s clear, simple directions kept her on track. The shows were to be held in front of the main entrance to Eaton’s, on the first level, so people could look down from above too. She would see the stage with the catwalk in front. Holiday fashions with sport and swimwear would be featured, then their aerobics team. The body builders would bring the show to a close. She looked again at the large hand writing, liking its bold clarity and lack of flourish.

  Leisurewear was in progress; no sign of BODYSHAPE. Shortly before one, she saw the group, weighed down with their grips. She edged over to the back of the spectators, towards the little marquee, set up as a change room and forming a backdrop to the stage. There was no point calling out over the music and the P.A. voice. Lifting the flap, pandemonium assaulted her ears. Just like back-stage at the Shriners’.

  BODYSHAPE were congregated together under their banner. Other sponsors had their own sign. When Sidonie saw her approach, she caught her breath and her face lit up with pleasure. The smile raised the corners of her perfectly shaped mouth, lifting it into a most enchanting curve and brought sparkling laughter to her gleaming eyes. She had been hoping so much and at the same time hardly daring to hope. Tenille’s eyes lit up in response, becoming more vivid and eager at each step. She moved forwards as in a dream, stopping short of bumping into her, suddenly tongue-tied. Swallowing hard, she took firm control of her racing emotions.

  ‘Hi.’ Her voice came out a strangled squeak.

  ‘Hidy. You made it.’ Sidonie, who had frozen at the sight of Tenille, now put down her grip and began rummaging through it.

  ‘I’ll distribute for you … if you like.’ This time the voice came in a rush, but less strained. ‘Give me a bundle and I’ll leave you to get ready.’ Back to normal.

  Sidonie straightened up. ‘That’s great.’ Tenille was so close, she could see the high-lights playing in the luxuriant waves of her hair which today hung loose below her little woolly hat. ‘Can you go to Ashley? She’ll give them to you.’

  ‘Will do.’

  As she made to turn away, Sidonie added: ‘Come back after the show and we’ll have time for lunch, OK?’ Tenille only nodded as she made her way over to the older woman, but her heart was singing.

  Armed with the flyers, she established herself at the back and watched the rest of the show. Swimwear. There were a number that caught her eye. She was glad the two piece bikinis were out, but some of those high-cut suits were too much. Still, on skinny models they looked good, but how many women were like that? Low-cuts for her. At least they were not featuring bottomless today, probably in deference to the location. The girls left the cat walk and the smooth talking MC moved on to the spiel for BODYSHAPE: “The women’s work-out gym at the High Park Centre.” People drifted away, but many stayed, just happy to be entertained and new folk came along to fill up the seats.

  Tenille moved forward at this time and got an unobstructed view.

  “They are good,” she thought, as she watched the aerobic team swing into action. Dressed in eye catching fluoro colors, accented by black, they jumped into their routines as slick as any show on TV. Ashley was their leader, calling the moves in that professional patter, although it was obvious everyone knew their stuff inside out.

  ‘Don’t go away,’ the announcer instructed, as the music died. ‘The girls will be back, but right now, here are the ‘creme de la creme’ of BODYSHAPE.’

  Even more people gathered and a big cheer went up from the crowd as the body builders presented themselves, following a fanfare and the disco music changed to a slower, heavier beat, a combination of Jam and Spoon’s latest hits with some from the Candy Girls. The MC continued to read from a prepared script.

  Each one was to do her stuff as they crisscrossed the stage and down the ramp. At the end, out into the audience, they would strike their pose, accentuating the muscle group from a different part of the body. A cheer went up for each one, but Sidonie received the greatest applause. This was something different for a Saturday’s shopping. She noticed how superb her definition was and yet when she relaxed, she just looked well toned and athletic, not ponderous or cumbersome, which was the unfortunate look Serena had. Her muscle strength had moved her body toward the big and fat. It was a delicate balance to achieve; being the same problem experienced by shot put and discus throwers. Kelly on the other hand, although showing excellent definition, had muscles which tended to be stringy. Leonie, too, had this appearance, but she was a smooth presenter. Sidonie was not as big as the others, in fact was the shortest there, but was compact; in perfect proportion. The black one piece with a red belt and the cut outs showed off her gleaming skin, like polished ivory and her pale, blonde hair shimmered under the lights as she strutted her stuff. She knew she looked good, taking her time when striking a pose. Turning slowly, she would raise the arm; bend the knee; make the muscles stand out in the most perfect of fluid movements. She made it look like dance.

  Striking a pose, her back to the onlookers, suddenly her head turned, swinging her gaze directly into Tenille’s watching eyes, catching her with that riveting stare. The intensity of her so alive eyes held Tenille transfixed. Captured. Impaled and helpless and yes, weak at the knees, her heart began to pound enormously, a rush of feeling heating her dead centre. She was totally unsettled.

  Sidonie broke the spell and released her, swinging full circle and moving back up the ramp.

  For the whole of that time Tenille had held her breath. Now it slowly expelled, as she brought her wildly bouncing heart back to a regular rhythm, taking deep gulps of air. “Sidonie is one special girl,” she thought, as she watched them leave, amid an overwhelming appreciation from the spectators. The body beautiful certainly was the ‘in’ thing right now. This should bode well for the club.

  ‘I do hope she will want to be my friend,’ she whispered softly to herself, as she started to hand out leaflets to anyone who would accept them. Most people were drifting away with a smile on their face, some in animated conversation. Her worry over cross-questioning had been unfounded. She didn’t have to say much, the most common enquiry centred around the performers: ‘Yes, they were all members of the club.’

  ‘You too?’

  ‘Yes.’

  As she made her way to the marquee, she heard the MC announce the next show in an hour’s time, meanwhile it was the turn of the fashion models.

  When Tenille
entered the change tent again, the women were engaged in noisy exchanges. The consensus seemed to be favorable. Now they just hoped the flyers would bear fruit. She received a share of appreciation for her part in it all. She was happy for this, but wished she could have done more. ‘Well, perhaps one day you’ll be up there on stage, with the aerobics team.’

  ‘Or with the body builders. Its never too late,’ Sidonie’s friend Serena, added with a chuckle.

  She was beginning to feel self-conscious with their focused attention. The color rose in her cheeks as she stammered out she could never achieve their physique, she was much too skinny. Sidonie caught the tail end of this exchange and smiled to herself, remembering the sauna when she had been able to feast her eyes on those beautiful curves. Not every one had to show muscle definition. No Siree … not in her book, anyway. Vivre la difference. As soon as she’d changed and stowed away her gear she moved over to Tenille’s side.

  ‘Let’s get outta here,’ voice rough and gravely, her recent memories having a greater impact on her than she’d realized. She grabbed Tenille’s hand, dragging her through the onrush of bodies entering the tent. She was glad of Sidonie’s forcefulness; the tide against which they battled would have daunted her.

  ‘I don’t have much time. Would you mind if we just picked up something and took it to the car?’

  Sidonie’s request broke into her thoughts. ‘Not at all. I’d appreciate an oasis of quiet after all this.’ She waved her hand to indicate the chaotic surroundings.

  ‘Good. There’s SNACKS TO GO just by the side door, which is where I parked. My treat. What’ll you have?’ This time Tenille didn’t spend time on protests, accepting graciously.

  ‘Just coffee.’

  ‘Not enough for a busy day. How about I choose something for us both?’ Too bold? But she was feeling ‘up’ from the show and … she’d seen an expression on the woman’s face that told her volumes. Tenille had scrutinized her the whole time she’d been walking and posing. In fact she had performed for her. Today the crowd had not existed, only Tenille. She knew for sure, Tenille favored her, at least, her looks. How much she liked her as a person still had to be divined. She looked directly at Tenille who answered with a shy smile and a nod.

  With a peremptory: ‘Wait here,’ she strode off.

  The wait was somewhat protracted so Tenille spent her time looking at Florsheim Shoes, in an attractively laid out store in front of which she found herself. Beautiful footwear, but too expensive. Although loving good leather shoes, she spent most of her time in joggers and slippers. One day perhaps. She returned to her post.

  ‘All done.’ Sidonie pulled to a halt from a quick run. ‘I’m just down this way.’ At the exit they shrugged into their outdoor gear. Although the sun was shining with greater zeal, it didn’t yet have real warmth. The cloudless sky was a breathtakingly intense blue as sunlight reflected off the tops of the cars and their windscreens, dazzling the eyes. Tenille took out her sunglasses.

  ‘We’re not going far,’ Sidonie told her.

  ‘Oh, don’t mind me,’ she replied. ‘I think I must have a photophobia. I put on sunglasses at the slightest hint of brightness.’

  ‘Here we are – my blue baby.’ She unlocked and they piled into the front seats, winding down their windows. Sidonie opened up the paper bags. ‘I remember you like your coffee white, no sugar so that’s yours.’ She handed over the Styrofoam cup. ‘Now for eaties. I selected croissants, one alfalfa sprouts and egg salad, the other ham and celery with red pepper rings. Which would you like?’

  ‘You choose, they both sound nice and I really don’t mind.’

  ‘I thought this might happen so I asked for them to be cut in half. That way we get a taste of each, right?’ Her bright eyes sparkled with delight as she smiled happily. Her heart was so light. She opened her first offering, nestled in a paper napkin. Tenille laughed, feeling vivacious, tucked up in Sidonie’s car, eating a tasty lunch and being kept warm by the coffee.

  In this relaxed and companionable environment, she blurted out, seemingly from nowhere: ‘I’ll be dancing this evening at the Sancho Panza Restaurant. Would you like to see the show? I remember you expressed an interest in Flamenco, that day we went for coffee.’ The dark centres of her eyes widened as she watched the other girl’s face.

  Sidonie did some rapid thinking. She had said she would meet Karen at the bar. It had been a casual: ‘See you later,’ but she knew Karen. She could take it as a personal affront, then the proverbial shit would hit. Phone and postpone? It would be a difficult call … but what the hell, she had been pussyfooting around Karen long enough. Always trying to make up for the terrible wrong she claimed she’d done.

  Tenille observed the changing expressions, chasing in sequence across the intelligent face. She berated herself for being gauche; laying herself open like this. To cover her discomfort she conceded that of course there was no need for her to commit herself. It had just been a thought … if she had nothing on.

  ‘At this late date I should have known you would have your evening planned.’ She felt she’d been silly and gulped down the last of her coffee, a sour taste in her mouth, declaring their time was up.

  ‘Now hold on a cotton pickin’. I didn’t say my evening was booked did I?’ Sidonie looked severe, her almond-shaped eyes almost violet. Tenille gazed back, saying nothing, feeling reprimanded. She could hear her heart in her ears.

  ‘I’d love to see Flamenco, Tenille.’ Her voice softened and her look warmed. ‘Just give me the details.’ She checked her watch. ‘There’s time. I have pen and paper in the glove box.’ She wrote down the information. As Sidonie took the pad and glanced over the particulars she said: ‘Now I can’t guarantee that I’ll be there, but I would love to see you dance, so I’ll do my best.’

  She felt less foolish now and the disappointment of a moment ago turned to hope, but all she said in acknowledgment was: ‘That’s fine.’

  Sidonie’s heart swelled. She was exulting in the chance to see Tenille again. However, holding to her earlier resolve of not making waves, she kept their amplitude down to an unthreatening minimum, trying not to appear too eager. She couldn’t let on that, ‘come hell or high water,’ as the saying goes, nothing would get in her way of being at the Sancho Panza at eleven that night.

  ‘Okay, let’s head back. Leave the garbage; I’ll deal with it later. I have to clean the car this weekend anyway. Now the weather’s staying fine, I’ll take it through the car wash. They have a good one at Canadian Tire at a reasonable cost.’ She could hear herself babbling, but it seemed the only way to release her pent up feelings. “Oh hell, she’ll think me even more juvenile. Shut up, dummy,” she thought, annoyed with herself.

  They made a quick return to the Mall. Inside Tenille turned to her: ‘I’ll say goodbye. I hope the second show goes well. I’m sure it will, judging by the first. Oh … and thank you for lunch.’

  ‘My pleasure. And thank you for coming out.’

  They stood together awkwardly, a stiff silence between them, then Tenille said goodbye again and turned towards the exit.

  Sidonie retraced her steps to the marquee, already thinking of the phone call she must make. She’d only said yes to meeting Karen because she had been so persistent. She didn’t want to hurt her anymore than she had already. Now she must try to get out of it. Or could they meet earlier? She almost tripped over a stroller, so lost in thought, but apologies made, she returned immediately to her dilemma. It would mean driving from downtown out to Bathurst. She’d probably be able to make it in half an hour, so long as Karen didn’t try to hold her back. She would be sure to want to know why she was leaving. Even if she didn’t ask, she’d be speculating. Then that doleful look would come to her face, meant to soften her heart and make her change her mind.

  She rushed into the tent and began stripping off. “Why did life have to be so complicated?” she worried to herself. Leonie’s voice broke her thoughts, jolting her back.

  ‘My, you
’re cutting it fine. We’re on in ten minutes.’ The voice sounded disapproving.

  Sidonie knew she must put her problem on hold. She had a job to do.

  CHAPTER 6

  Once Tenille had alighted from the train, she couldn’t wait to get into her practise shoes and mark her routine one more time. Especially with the prospect of Sidonie being there. “Oh, she probably won’t make it. You’re just over reacting,“ she thought, as she inserted her key. Serafina heard her arrive and called out. She stopped at the top of her stairs and told her about the show and her first night nerves.

  ‘I will cook you a nice light pasta, just right for a fluttery belly. You like that?’

  She jumped at the offer, happy to sample Mrs. Sandrelli’s food again, but she was still anxious to get to her practise; the best way to settle down and take away this jangled feeling in her nerves.

  Eventually she got away to change into a loose T-shirt and her practice skirt, not forgetting the damned hat. She had a bit of business with it halfway through. She was to lift it up, high above her head, then skim it across the floor. It was just before she and Raoul would be dancing very close. More at ease now, with the run through over and no mistakes, she was about to get organized for the night when Mrs. Sandrelli called her name … the telephone … it was Raoul.

  ‘There’s going to be a get together at Manuel’s for a light supper. Would you like to come? About seven-thirtyish.’ She couldn’t mistake the eager note in his voice, despite the thick accent. She had to decline and explained her landlady was cooking tonight.

  ‘But thank you for inviting me. We’re still to be there at ten, o’clock?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. It gives us enough time to get settled.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll see you then.’

  She returned to her room and started the packing. It was amazing how many bits and pieces were needed. She would put her makeup on there; Raoul had stage foundation. Deodorant; she would suffer from excess perspiration. “Try to keep the nerves in check, Ten.” It was good she would be with Mrs. Sandrelli; so nurturing and she built up her self-esteem. In the end it was done. She would feel very Spanish tonight. The phone rang again. Mrs. Sandrelli commented the line was running hot. This time it was Devon.