Outing of the Heart

by Lisa Ann Harper

  ‘Honey.’ She waited. No change. She leaned over and kissed her cheek. ‘Honey … it’s time to wake up.’ Eyelids fluttered and opened. She was immediate in her coming round.

  ‘Mm..m, I smell coffee.’ She smiled happily up at Ten and kissed her briefly, thinking there would come a time when this could be a daily occurrence. To be awakened by Ten; for her face to be the first sight to her eyes … bliss.

  ‘You’ll have to come and get it my love,’ she told her apologetically.

  ‘Of course, Babe, no trouble,’ she replied affably.

  ‘Do you always wake up so … so … together?’

  ‘Yep–err. One minute asleep, the next awake and ready to go.’ She brought over the coffee and they both enjoyed its reviving properties. ‘I know,’ she continued, ‘people envy me. I never have to go through that awful half awake stage when you want people to stay at arm’s length. Not me. It will be nice for you too,’ she added: ‘No morning grouchies.’

  Ten smiled at the idea of their mornings together. ‘Sid, this is lovely but we must get organized.’ She was businesslike. ‘I’ll shower whilst you finish your coffee and then the bathroom will be all yours while I dress.’ She nodded as she sipped. Ten turned on her bedside radio in time to catch the six-thirty news. As it happened Toni Braxton was singing the Spanish version of BREATHE AGAIN.

  ‘Oh, I love that song.’ Sid looked up, her blue eyes shimmering with life.

  ‘Me too,’ affirmed Ten, ‘but I’ve not heard it in Spanish before.’ She paused where she stood, then went on excitedly. ‘When we get settled, can we buy a CD player, start a collection? I know there’s lots of other things we need too, but music is important, isn’t it?’

  ‘Sure we can. CD players are quite reasonable these days. It’s the discs which cost an arm and a leg. Two arms and a leg, I figure.’ They hummed along with Toni, Sid harmonizing quite pleasantly, whilst they got themselves ready. By seven o’clock, they looked ‘the beautiful couple’. Ten had selected her white muslin top and skirt, but this time chose a yellow Spanish shawl, fringed with white to tie over her right hip, the point of the shawl falling free down her left side. To complement the look, she added a long string of small amber beads.

  ‘As pretty as a picture,’ Sid admired gallantly, her eyes lighting up with pleasure at the sight of her woman. Tonight she carried a small beaded purse over her shoulder, containing some toiletries she guessed. She had settled for white chinos with navy espadrilles and a rather, for her, flamboyant over-shirt in the Hawaiian style. Definitely in holiday mood. Checking herself in the mirror she asked: ‘Will I do for an evening out?’ She turned towards Ten, one eyebrow raised in enquiry.

  ‘Do I breathe?’ was the retort.

  Laughter was carefree, as they headed out the door.

  * * *

  ‘Come in, it’s open,’ came the response to Sidonie’s knock.

  After the beer store, they’d stopped off at the liquor store to pick up a Friexenet. Tenille hopped through as Sidonie held open the door. Thea poked her head around the kitchen divider and told them Reine was just washing up and would be out directly.

  ‘Here’s a bottle to help us celebrate our move. It needs chilling so I’ll pop it into the freezer but … don’t forget it.’ Sidonie moved over to the fridge as Thea said: ‘I’ll delegate that responsibility to you.’ Before Sidonie could think of a suitable comeback she jumped in with: ‘I’m making Sbaglioni for dessert.’ This stopped her dead in her tracks.

  ‘Oh you spoil me, Thea. My favorite. You know I only ever get to taste it here,’ she disclosed.

  ‘You should learn to make it yourself Sid,’ she chided. ‘It’s not hard.’

  ‘I know you’re right, but I can never get the eggs to go properly.’

  ‘What’s Sabaglioni?’ enquired Tenille, ‘I’ve never heard of it.’

  Sidonie explained. ‘It’s a most delicious Italian dessert. Light and frothy; made with eggs and Marsala, a sweet Italian wine.’ Her eyes sparkled in anticipation.

  ‘Mm..m sounds good,’ she said eagerly.

  ‘The problem is you have to stand for ages beating the egg yolks and I can never get the mixture nice and smooth,’ she grumbled.

  ‘I should ask Mrs. Sandrelli. I bet she’d have a few tips for you,’ Tenille contributed.

  ‘Don’t listen to her, Ten,’ Thea advised. ‘Sid could do it. It’s just her way of getting out of it.’ She came forward to give her a big hug and got a smacking kiss back for her disparaging remarks.

  ‘I could tell her a thing or two that would keep you in your place, woman … but I’m too nice,’ she retorted, enjoying the banter, as she let her go.

  Thea turned to Tenille. ‘Come Ten, sit yourself here …’ she indicated a high stool at the counter, ‘ …and we can talk. Fix your woman a drink,’ she charged, looking at Sidonie. ‘I don’t know what’s happened to Reine.’ Sidonie threw Tenille an inquiring look.

  ‘Is red wine possible?’ she turned to Thea.

  ‘Sure thing. We’ve got the lot. The opener’s in that drawer.’ She pointed. ‘So … how’s the move going? Ready to tear your hair out by the roots?’ Despite her bulk, Thea moved neatly between sink and cook-top as she expertly prepared her vegetables for a stirfry.

  ‘Everything is under control, so far. Neither of us seems to have accumulated mountains,’ replied Tenille. ‘It’s a wonderful feeling to know we’ll soon be settled in our own place.’

  Sidonie observed: ‘It feels funny to have some things here and some there, though,’ as she handed Tenille her glass of wine. ‘What about you, Thea, aren’t you going to join us?’

  ‘Listen Honey, I’m already ahead of you.’ She picked up her half empty glass. ‘I drink Spritzers now. They help me stay the course.’ She was taking a big swallow as she caught sight of Reine.

  ‘Well, here she is, at last. Were you saving yourself for a grand entrance, darling?’ They all turned as Reine appeared at the kitchen archway.

  ‘Smart-ass,’ was all she would deign to say and turned pointedly to Tenille and Sidonie. ‘Hello my darlinks,’ and embraced them with Gallic effusiveness. ‘I’m glad to see you both looking so well. Although I must add it’s no more than I’d expect of Pumpkins your age. Wait ’til you’re mine …’ she added with heavy emphasis.

  ‘Come off it, Reine,’ Sidonie expostulated, amicably. ‘Just ‘cause you’re old enough to be our grandmother, doesn’t give you license to curry sympathy.’

  ‘You know where you can go, newt … back to the swamp.’ Reine glowered, this time turning her back on Sidonie and smiling graciously at Tenille.

  ‘Don’t listen to her my dear, she’s jumped up.’

  ‘That’s the second time tonight I’ve been told not to pay attention to Sid. She must be bad news,’ she observed, diverted.

  Sidonie, smiling, approached Tenille and put her arms round her waist where she sat on the stool. She leaned into her and said in a stage whisper: ‘They know not of what they speak,’ and gave her a proprietorial squeeze.

  ‘OK you two,’ and Thea meant Sidonie and Reine, ‘I want you out of my kitchen. Make yourselves useful. Set the table and leave us to talk.’

  ‘0k–ay,’ Sidonie held up her hands in mock defeat. ‘We know when we’re not wanted …’ she turned to Reine, ‘ … don’t we good Buddy?’ They took off, leaving them to get down to some serious discussion. Thea, especially, wanted time to explain about the counselling centre. She knew she couldn’t talk business when they were all together.

  ‘You remember, Ten, last time you said you were interested in my work with the youth groups and that you fancied to do something along those lines?’ she reminded her.

  She nodded. ‘Yes, and I still am.’

  ‘Good. Well, I’ve heard via the grapevine that the Counselling Centre for Lesbians and Gays is looking for a receptionist. I straight away thought of you.’

  ‘But I know nothing of reception work,’ Tenille protested.

  ‘
Not a problem. You would be instructed in your duties. And anyway, you wouldn’t be doing the job alone. There’s always two on the desk,’ she clarified. ‘No, what they are looking for is a bright and reliable Lesbian. Someone with good interpersonal skills. I’d like to suggest you go for an interview. See if you like their set up too,’ she concluded. She had just added the last of the herbs to her stir fry, so she held out the spoon for Tenille to taste the sauce.

  ‘Mm..m delicious. What a good cook you are Thea. Can turn your hand to anything,’ she admired, deference in her voice.

  ‘Oh, it’s just experience, my dear. I’ve been doing it for so long.’

  ‘What’s with you and Reine tonight, harping on age?’ she enquired, in puzzlement. ‘Is it because of Sid’s birthday, Saturday?’

  ‘No, nothing like that. It’s coming up to our 23rd anniversary next week and we’ve been doing a bit of reminiscing. It’s made us realize how we are, in fact, ‘getting on’.’

  ‘Your 23rd,’ she exclaimed. ‘Oh how I’d love to be able to say that.’ She looked at Thea enviously.

  ‘Don’t wish them away, Tenille. Years pass only too quickly. Just make the most of each moment as it comes,’ she advised. ‘I know this is easier said than done.’ She sighed: ‘When you’re young, emotions can get so much in the way. Often you waste precious time in useless, even destructive argument. Reine and I have gotten passed that. I hope we can value the time we spend together.’ She stopped to look at Tenille. ‘Well, if after 23 years we still haven’t got the mix right, then we must be awfully unobservant.’

  Tenille picked up her glass, remaining attentive. Thea returned to her cooking and continued, still in philosophical vein. ‘Also, as you get older, you get to know what you really like and how you like it. Consequently there’s less margin for error and, therefore, it is to be hoped … disappointment.’ She sighed again. ‘Unfortunately the trade off is, there’s less excitement too.’ She smiled wistfully at the younger woman. ‘You youngsters are probably on a roller-coaster ride of emotions.’ Tenille nodded in agreement. Thea frowned. ‘But I’m not sure I’d want that back. Maybe sometimes,’ she amended, as she transferred the veggies to a serving dish and popped them in the oven with her pork kebabs. Tenille, glimpsing the rows of skewers, felt her mouth begin to water. ‘The main thing is … enjoy as much as you can. Time never runs backwards,’ she finished, experiencing a momentary sadness, swift and fierce as a flying dart. She left, leaving Tenille wondering what that was all about? Yet more to digest when she had a quiet moment. On her return she told Tenille the places were set. ‘Choose any seat,’ she advised.

  Sidonie was coming in as she emerged from the kitchen, Reine in tow, ready to collect the steaming food. Once seated, she gave Tenille’s hand a little squeeze, then observed: ‘Everything looks so good, Thea, and smells delicious.’ They tucked in with a will, thoroughly enjoying the food, the company and the easy conversation.

  The hot topic was the impact of Feminism in today’s world. Sidonie was all for it, being an ardent supporter at all the rallies and marches. She recalled the heady buzz of excitement, the feeling of solidarity had given them, that day of the ‘Take Back The Night’ march. She felt the feminists had accomplished much since their early days, and definitely the lesbian contribution had been of great value.

  ‘I remember when the straights were so against us,’ Reine recalled. ‘Lesbian was a dirty word in those days. The women thought they were each going to fall victim to some artful lesbian wiles. As if they were worth looking at twice,’ she scoffed. ‘Our taste was far too discerning for that.’ she declared vehemently.

  ‘That’s all well and good,’ Thea acknowledged: ‘I agree that women today have moved further into the man’s world. My question is, at what cost?’

  Tenille was enjoying this lively exchange, but needed to interject for clarification.

  ‘Well, think of this,’ declaimed Thea. ‘Today, women have the freedom to come and go as they please. In times gone by, the twenties and the thirties even, women were to be escorted. They were protected from assault, from harm. Today, they take not only their virginity, but in some cases, their life in their hands. And what is society’s attitude toward this?’ She looked around the table at their intent faces. It wasn’t often one heard a Lesbian criticizing the feminist movement.

  ‘Do they say: “It’s a disgrace that men have so little respect for women” or: “Men shouldn’t give way so easily to the dictates of their gonads”? Or do they say: “It’s the woman’s fault. Either she shouldn’t have been there or, she was asking for it.” Whichever way you look at it, it’s her fault.’ There were slow nods of agreement to this assertion.

  ‘But wouldn’t you rather be able to do the things you do now, Sweetie?’ Reine asked, ‘than return to the dependence of a patriarchal society.’

  ‘Yes, indeed I would,’ she responded with asperity. ‘But … why does a feminist society have to lose all that women had before? It’s as though men have said: “Yes, you can have equality, but don’t expect us to treat you like we did.” No more door opening: offering of seats: swearing and gross behavior must be tolerated. Men still call the shots. We’re still not looked upon as equals and, to add insult to injury, we’ve lost the respect we had as the weaker sex. I’m not sure we’re living in a better world,’ she concluded. They all continued their meal in silence for a while, pondering the debate, then a new topic was launched – about the time Melissa Etheridge and her ex-lover, Julie had created that stir in the lesbian community. Reine fetched the controversial photograph which Thea had cut out of the paper.

  ‘I like it,’ Tenille was positive.

  ‘Me too,’ Sidonie agreed. ‘In fact I think it’s very tasteful.’

  ‘It has successfully drawn attention to the plight of fur-bearing animals,’ Thea announced.

  ‘Melissa was always a strong one,’ Reine observed. ‘I for one, admire her for it.’

  The evening wound up early. As they stood on the threshold saying their goodbyes, Thea reminded Tenille to give her a call regarding the interview.

  ‘I’ll set it up for a time that suits you, then I’ll take you over. How soon do you expect the phone?’

  ‘It should be some time Monday or Tuesday,’ Sidonie informed her. ‘Any last minute things you need a hand with, Sid?’ Reine enquired. ‘Ready to be of service.’

  ‘No thanks, Reine, we’ve everything under control … I think.’

  ‘We’re going to look for some bedroom furniture tomorrow and we’ll get the store to deliver,’ Tenille elaborated. She had managed to leave her purse across the back of the dining chair and fortunately, Sidonie had not remarked it’s absence.

  The evening remained mild after a light summer rain and for a change, the air smelled fresh and clean; the roads glistening in the intervals of light shed by the lamps. It was a dreamy night, and after their visit, they felt in mellow mood. Good times with good friends. Hard to beat. Before Sidonie dropped Tenille off, they organized themselves for Friday. She knew of a few second hand stores along Queen Street West, fairly close to each other. She pulled up to the curb and cut the engine.

  ‘How did you enjoy the evening?’ she asked, putting an arm round Tenille’s shoulders. Tenille kissed the end of her nose as she told her she’d had a dreadful time. ‘What was that about an interview … are you thinking of changing jobs?’ There was a note of concern in her voice. With this new rental undertaking they couldn’t afford to risk only one income, if she lost it.

  ‘No Honey, relax.’ She rested her head on Sid’s shoulder. ‘Thea thinks I’d make a good receptionist at a counselling centre. She suggested I go along with her to see what it’s all about.’ She looked dubious. ‘But I don’t know if I’m cut out for that type of work. I do like the idea of volunteering to a worthwhile cause.’ She settled in a little closer. Sid was stroking her thigh over her skirt. She was wishing her hand could be underneath. Soon now, she’d have everything her heart and body desi
red.

  ‘Oh darling,’ Ten sighed, as she turned her face to her love, a slight quaver in her voice. Her imaginings had made her hot and her longing had made her weak. She was aware of Sid’s immediacy, her breathing soft, her presence strong.

  ‘I know, Babe,’ she murmured into her tousled tresses, as she fully embraced her. Then she kissed her hard on those red-brown lips, their bodies fusing in mutual desire. Her voice thickened as she tried to speak. She felt a dark pulse throbbing deep inside her. Suddenly she was so hot.

  ‘I want us to be together as much as you, darling,’ she breathed, huskily. ‘I know how hard it is to wait.’ She let her mouth work against Ten’s so her lips opened and at last her tongue tasted her. Every nerve in her body felt stretched. She let her hand rise up toward the soft, round swell of Ten’s belly, just above her thighs. As Ten felt the heat from her palm, a sweet fire ran through her veins that made her groan into her mouth. She experienced a stab of desire transmitted directly to her soft, vulnerable centre, then came the slippery wetness of her longing. How she melted for this girl. One touch and she was her slave. Incongruously she thought, where’s your pride? There was no answer.

  Their passion left them breathless; helpless in the force of their attraction. Reluctantly they drew a short distance apart. Sid wanted to be all over Ten. To envelop her in her own body which had tightened with desire. To encompass her, and take her into herself. “Chop it Sid,” she protested silently. Ten is better than that. “Groping in a car, out in the street.” She pulled back, hands dropping onto the wheel her face grim, as she crushed down on her restive feelings.

  ‘Gotta go,’ was all she said in a tight voice, breathing raggedly.

  Ten turned away too, feeling an acute sense of loss; of emptiness. A cloud seemed to have gathered about her, surrounding her in a torment there seemed no way of resolving. She felt she was going down into a spinning, free-fall and could see no end to it.