Outing of the Heart

by Lisa Ann Harper

  When they pulled up outside the house it was hard to say good night. Tenille took the firmer stand, saying she’d let Sidonie go get her much needed sleep. She would count the hours until they would be together again. Before she could alight, Sidonie took her hand and raised it to her lips, brushing the backs of her fingers and then said: ‘’Til tomorrow my darling.’

  It was all she could do to remove herself from the seat, but Sidonie helped by jumping out to get her things. She placed the gym bag at her feet. Thus they stood, neither willing to cut the invisible strings which bound them, keeping them rooted to the spot in this somnolent, suburban neighborhood, in the heart of the big city. An oasis of quiet tranquillity, so close to the frantic bustle of Bloor and Yonge.

  ‘’Til tomorrow,’ she said once more, then turned abruptly. She would tell her about the place she’d gotten for them tomorrow night. Perfect.

  Tenille watched her drive away before she, too, turned back to the house and the solitude of her apartment. She was alone again, but not lonely. In her heart was her knowledge of Sidonie, the essence of her; her overwhelming physicality and her exciting sexual attraction. Sidonie’s caring made her feel wonderful. It was a heady combination, an all-encompassing sense of well being. She had made her body sing for her, as it had never done before. She would be eternally grateful … “If not her slave for life.” She gave a sardonic smile at this. There she went again … so fanciful.

  Being with Sidonie made her feel beautiful and desirable. In her presence life was more exciting; living more intense. The world was an environment to be savored and enjoyed to its fullest. She climbed into bed and lay there in languid relaxation. Now she could indulge her imagination and let her thoughts roam over every aspect of her. Tonight had been especially good at the gym because she knew her eyes had been attentive. She had loved watching her work out too. Delight in her body was like coming home; so right, so fulfilling. At last her eyelids dropped and she floated off across the clouds, in Sidonie’s arms.

  * * *

  Next morning, Mrs. Sandrelli’s knocking awakened Tenille. Thinking it could be a call from Sidonie, she jumped up and grabbed her robe. To her disappointment it was Raoul. He wanted to see her that afternoon. He’d invited some of the others to his apartment too. Could she be there by three o’clock? She agreed to attend and hung up, wondering what this was about. Not tonight and nothing he felt he could discuss on Sunday. It must be the tour. “Is it coming up soon,” she wondered. The thought struck her. If this would turn out to be the case then she would be leaving just as they were getting to know each other. Sidonie was becoming so important in her life. But dancing was important too. A roller coaster of turbulent emotions seemed to possess her. Up or down, never in the middle. No wonder she was so tired by bedtime, but that was a good sleep she’d had last night. She looked at her clock. Sidonie would have been on the job four hours by now and here she was, just about to make her first cup of coffee.

  Going through the routine of chores freed her mind to dwell on other things. So … she would be going to a gay bar. She couldn’t say she relished the thought, but she was looking forward to dancing. It would be exciting and certainly different. Oh, she’d danced with girls in the gym at Lindsay High, but they’d giggled their way through and been silly about who was going to lead. How would she feel, being in the arms of a woman instead of a man? The thought of her body being close to Sidonie’s intrigued her and set her heart thumping. Enough. She’d be letting time slip away with nothing accomplished, especially with a chunk taken out for Raoul’s meeting. How did she feel about this tour? She honestly didn’t know.

  Arriving as Devon was manoeuvring in the visitor’s parking lot, she waited in the lobby, for them to go up together. Devon thought she looked lovelier than ever. That effulgent glow, the sparkle to her eyes, made her so desirable. In an embrace, she looked like she’d just melt and all she would be left with was a yielding softness. The elevator doors opened with Tenille complaining she’d not listened to a word she’d said.

  ‘Sorry Ten, what was it?’

  In a long suffering voice she reiterated: ‘I was asking if you had any suggestions as to the reason for this meeting?’

  As she passed her, Devon was momentarily enveloped in her perfume, which she remembered so well from their earlier days. She realized she desperately wanted those times back. If this meeting were to do with the upcoming tour, then it would be perfect for them to renew those ties. Perhaps in a motel room she could bring Tenille round? How eager she’d been at the beginning of this year. It would be the same still, if only she’d been less self-absorbed; had realized how it would hurt, her going off with Justin like that. But that was all behind her now. She’d not seen him for nearly a month and really, she hardly missed him. At the time she’d thought he was her serious affair and that Tenille was just a little dalliance on the side. Now she knew differently and she’d learned her lesson. As she followed behind, she observed how her hips swayed gracefully to the natural cadence of her walk. The little coulotte dress, more revealing of her figure than the jeans she usually wore, being all in one, draped beautifully from perfect breasts in front, to the gentle swell of hips and bottom in back. Being short, it revealed how shapely were her long legs. The soft salmon color of the flowers seemed to enhance her natural skin tones; her flesh the picture of health. It made her want to reach out, caress the curving shoulders and back. She reached out and pressed the buzzer, the door opening immediately. As they stepped over the threshold they saw everyone was here.

  Raoul’s small apartment was located near Summerhill subway. When a train went by the noise was deafening. In a break of silence, he told them confirmation of the tour had come through. They would be leaving in two weeks.

  Tenille drew in a sharp breath. So soon.

  ‘All of you gathered here are the people for the tour.’

  They looked around at each other. Amaia would be coming along with Stavros and would help out with their costumes and any other odd jobs that needed doing. They had two bookings. The first at a Spanish Restaurant and the second at the Travellers’ Rest Resort. They had to find their fare, but accommodation and all meals would be paid. Also, they would be paid per performance, at the end of the week. Two different shows each night were expected. This would use up all their current material so new stuff would have to be worked on whilst down there. It was all very exciting and she loved the prospect of seeing new places. Before this she had only been to Miami.

  Carried away on the collective tide of enthusiasm, there was no second thought to her earlier misgivings. Everyone talked at once and as excitedly as she. This opportunity was fabulous. She looked at Devon and smiled, a lambent happiness shining through, which both Devon and Raoul appreciated. Each kept their own dark secret locked in their heart, but each felt this was their chance and smiled back at her, with equal satisfaction.

  The meeting broke up amid animated exchanges regarding details of packing for the show and personal packing. Raoul would hire a special props trunk for their clothes and accessories. Their appearance on stage was half the appeal to the audience. He took Tenille on one side, looking handsome and predatory and began talking to her volubly, in close proximity. He wanted to use these two remaining weeks to have another dress made. This time he would choose the color. White … with different colored shawls and flowers; colored crinolines would complement the accent colors. He was florid in his description of her beautiful skin. White would enhance the loveliness of her dark eyes and hair. She felt uncomfortable with this attention, but said nothing. Being picked to go on the tour carried a price tag.

  After the meeting Devon issued an invitation for coffee. Tenille declined. She had so much to do, so little time. Her hunter’s eyes narrowed and she moved on to offer to drop her off wherever she wanted … Stitsky’s to select the fabric. They piled into her little red car after saying their goodbyes. She couldn’t understand why Devon would want to do this. Of course, she still enjoyed her com
pany, but she was over the infatuation. How many months now? Older and wiser.

  ‘A penny for them,’ Devon broke into her reflections.

  ‘Oh, nothing. I was just thinking.’

  ‘I could see that, but the big sigh made me wonder what about. You’re not getting cold feet, are you?’

  ‘No … no. It was nothing really, just lost in thought. Just think,’ she added, to make conversation: ‘The last time we did this, it was freezing cold and we were bundled up in our winter gear. Now here we are, doing the same thing in our shorts and tops. Really, Canadian weather is so extreme, yet tourists seem to think we have nothing but degrees of cold.’

  Being late in the afternoon Devon had no problem parking, she knew the little back alleys of this neighborhood. It didn’t take long to find something suitable; a wealth of choice was available in such an easy color. A glazed cotton would starch up well.

  She drove back to the apartment and as Tenille got out, arranged to pick her up about a quarter of ten.

  Before going down she spoke to Mrs. Sandrelli, needing to know if she should look for another dressmaker. Serafina was delighted with the tour news and gladly agreed to make the new dress. The first one had been such a success.

  ‘The same pattern as before?’

  ‘Yes please. I’ll iron the pieces and bring them up to you tomorrow, if that’s all right?’

  ‘Certo, Cara.’

  She went to her room, lighter than air. Everything was going to be so wonderful. What an exciting adventure. Getting out of Lindsay had been the best thing. Mom and Dad. A guilty jolt reminded her she’d not called them for some time. She would do so tonight after six and give them the news.

  It wasn’t until well after seven that she got to the phone. Alexander answered. She could hear the delight in his voice. He was full of encouragement and enthusiasm for this new venture, but Doris kept finding obstacles. By the time she hung up she was feeling less sure. As usual her mother had succeeded in unsettling her. Earlier, she had felt like preparing a special dinner, now her appetite had gone. Quick noodles and a package of frozen pieces of red and green peppers would do.

  During the meal, she did some serious thinking. What to wear for a gay bar. She wondered guiltily if the men would be in dresses.

  “Don’t be silly,” she chastised herself silently, “they don’t all want to do that sort of thing.”

  A simple, white cotton dress, since Raoul had stressed how well white set off her color. The simplicity she felt would allow her to fit in anywhere. A sleeveless shirtwaister fastened with black buttons from collar to hemline. Being a summer dress it finished above the knee and draped nicely from her hips with a little flare. She threaded a black, braided silk cord through the loops and laid it on the bed.

  After showering and washing her hair she looked at her dress selection critically. No, she wouldn’t change her mind. Her little white sandal shoes would go well for dancing. To travel to Sancho Panza she could wear old shorts and a T-shirt. Usually, she liked to do her make up there. If she travelled on the train fully made up people stared as if she were a hooker. Tonight, with the ride from Devon, she could apply it before dressing.

  Devon seemed to be coming back into her life. Did she want them to be like they were before she wondered? Was Devon really lesbian? Was she, herself a Lesbian? She didn’t want to be. She didn’t want that label either. She didn’t want to be different from the norm. All she knew for sure was that she loved being with Sidonie. She loved how she made her feel and wanted to make her feel that way too. There was fire between them. Last time it had seemed to consume their bodies. Away from her she felt an emptiness and an ache, which sometimes seemed impossible to control.

  As she finished her eyes and prepared to dress, a surge of searing, intense feeling rushed through her, centreing in her belly. Her body had a longing again for Sidonie’s touch. These feelings could border on unbearable, making her feel almost sick inside, but she liked them too; taking her breath away, just from a passing thought. Although, when were her thoughts of Sidonie purely passing? She smiled. “You face it Ten, you’ve fallen hopelessly and helplessly for that girl.”

  Her two reigning passions were on a collision course. What would she say when she told her she’d be going away for two or three weeks? Raoul had also hinted that more bookings might accrue; in which case, she could be off again. She recalled stormy eyes, when Sidonie had been crossed. She feared those blazing eyes being turned on her, yet at the same time found that stern, almost forbidding look very attractive. It wasn’t soft or feminine; not associated with womanly attributes, but it excited her. She dreaded those looks, yet loved them too. She shook her head. Really, what was she going on about? There was nothing she could achieve with this idle speculation. As to the other matter, she would just have to face up to it. She would find the right time this evening, when the mood was light.

  The last thing Tenille did was dress. She’d packed up all the things she needed for the show and her date. Right on time, she heard the beep of Devon’s horn. She didn’t get out, but opened the trunk from inside and after stowing her gear, Tenille jumped in and they were off.

  She told Devon of her conversation with her parents. Her only comment was: ‘She’ll get used to it. She’ll have to face it sooner or later that her little girl is a ‘woman grown’.

  ‘True,’ agreed Tenille, ‘but I hate it when Mom doesn’t like something. She has a way of putting me down and making me feel seven again.’ She told her not to worry and to change the subject asked if she’d spoken to Mrs. Sandrelli. The rest of the journey to the Bodega. went quickly.

  Raoul arrived with a new girl who had recently joined him. He had spoken about her, but this was their first meeting. She would be observing tonight. Janine had come from a dance troupe in the States, her husband being transferred to Toronto. She was obviously quite smitten by Raoul, judging from the way she kept looking at him from under lowered lids. She picked up his routines easily and Tenille judged that someone, trained in Spanish Dance from an early age, could do this. She had to learn the Flamenco style while learning the dances at the same time. Janine must be good too, since Raoul was planning to have her dance with them next week.

  ‘Almost time,’ someone reported, returning from front side. It was a full house, Diego would be pleased. Sometimes it could get quiet in summer, with people taking off to the cottage or on trips. Tenille hoped Sidonie would be able to find a seat.

  * * *

  Sidonie had left in ample time, not going to be held up this evening. Taking advantage of an early finish, she’d caught up on sleep, then afterwards had gone over to the local St. Hubert’s, next to the track, for a substantial dinner. She began the process of getting ready for Tenille. Black jeans, silver studded, leather belt and, keeping it simple, a white, high-necked, sleeveless T-shirt. A black leather vest over top completed the look. The dolphin tattoo on the point of her right shoulder would be visible, but on a hot night she liked to look cool … even if she didn’t feel it.

  She hoped Tenille would like The Rose. The women there were quite a mixture. She felt this was good. The varied cross-section kept the bar interesting and the music eclectic. Romaine was competent at interspersing the oldies but goodies, with up-tempo, high energy, house music. Later in the evening she played the slower, romantic numbers.

  Dancing close with Tenille. She’d be a good follower. She hoped she had what it took to be a good leader, not having had much experience. There had not been that many since Karen. “I wonder if she and Mitch will be there?” she pondered. “Hope not. But I expect we’ll see Trent, the Rose is her cruising beat. Well, she’d better not cruise in my space,” she threatened silently: “Or she’ll get more than she bargained for. An extended trip around the world.’

  Ten minutes to show time when the waiter ushered Sidonie in. He apologized for standing room only and with a shrug of his expressive shoulders, as if to say, ‘that’s life’, let her pass through into the now fami
liar, poorly lit room, doing its best to suggest association with a Spanish barrio, nestled somewhere in the back streets. The spluttering candles and smoke filled atmosphere were genuine enough. Asked if she’d like a drink, she shook her head.

  The house lights dimmed, stage lights came up; Los Flamencos took their positions, the guitarist sitting with the cantor by his side. The dancers seated themselves on the other side, with Raoul at the end. The first number was a Soleares, but instead of dancing to the singer, they maintained their places and developed complicated, contrapuntal rhythms in their palmas. It was short and effective and she found herself caught up in the mounting tension. She noted there was no fancy stuff from Tenille, but with Devon, she maintained a steady rhythm, the others creating the embellishments.

  When it came to the dance she was impressed yet again by Tenille’s ability. Somehow she just had that god given talent; the music seemed to resonate through her body. She really could have gone far, if only she had started earlier; so dramatic in her rippling dress, a corona of light about her undulating form. She was one hell of an exciting woman.

  After the show she didn’t have to wait long. Tenille appeared and the sight took her breath away. She was radiant, the flush of success still with her. What she didn’t know was that the warm candescence, as if lit from within by a glowing torch, came from the prospect of being with her.

  Tenille spotted her at once, close to the side exit.

  Sidonie delighted in observing her as she threaded her way through the tables, noticing the heads turn to watch. Tenille’s eyes had lit up when she’d seen her and the smile that came to her lips had given Sidonie’s heart a most disconcerting lurch. As she reached her side, she whispered in her ear: ‘You were great, Honey.’

  Tenille whispered back, looking pleased, ‘I’m glad you enjoyed the show.’

  ‘I enjoyed you,’ she corrected gallantly. ‘Let me take that. I’m parked out back. Any problems getting away?’