Outing of the Heart

by Lisa Ann Harper

  ‘This is different,’ she observed to Rani. Partners were arranged in a circle round the floor, following line dance moves, but holding hands, side by side, while they did them in what is called ‘carriage’ or ‘sweetheart’ position.

  ‘Later,’ Rani explained ‘the floor will be taken over by couples doing the ‘Texas Two Step’. That’s couple dancing to country music. It’s great to see the guys and gals dancing with their partners, or somebody new. Sometimes, depending on the music, it can get quite raunchy. Especially the guys. They sleaze up a two-step rock and really get down and dirty.’

  The next dance the DJ called was ‘The Country Lambada’. The women enjoyed this one. It was fantastic to watch. Instead of side by side, the couples arranged themselves one behind the other, in the ‘shadow’ position, holding left hands, but the leader’s right arm around her partner’s waist. Ten noticed she held their bodies really close so when they walked forward or back, there wasn’t a crack of light between them. In the dance sequence, they had to swing their hips around in a circular motion, then finally the follower would be thrown back over her partner’s arm, almost it seemed to break her back, but no, they would be off again from the beginning, doing that funny, crab-like Lambada walk. A round of applause went up when they finished, then it was back to the line dancing.

  Don tried to engage Ten in further conversation, but rather than put up with this persistence, she got up for the dances. This forced her to pay attention and get involved. She picked them up, no trouble, after someone helped her out the first time or two. Returning to the table, this dance being too hard and fast, she found her seat taken and a stranger deep in conversation with Serge. Picking up her glass she went to stand on the periphery with the other spectators. Soon a tall, handsome woman addressed her, maybe her age, looking very much the part. Her shirt even had fringing and her boots, silver toe and heel caps. She wore a white, woven linen Stetson.

  ‘Hi, my name’s Galina.’ She changed her drink to the other hand and they shook.

  ‘Tenille.’

  ‘I’ve not seen you here abouts, before. Is this your first time?’

  ‘That’s right. Some friends invited me along to have a look see.’

  ‘ …And what do you think … Tenille?’

  ‘I like it,’ she said simply.

  They stood together and watched the dances unfold.

  ‘Can I get you another drink? What’ll you have?’ The woman was already reaching for the glass.

  ‘No, thanks. This is fine,’ she replied, then she looked down at her glass and saw what the other woman had already noticed. It was empty.

  They both laughed. ‘Thank you. A Carlsberg … light.’

  ‘Stay at this spot. I’ll be right back.’ The woman was authoritative. Her return was not prompt, but Ten wasn’t going anywhere.

  ‘Sorry about the delay. I’d forgotten what the crush could be like this time of night.’ She handed over the glass, but drank from the bottle herself. Like Sid, Ten remembered, as if struck by a blow. No, don’t go there. It seemed the line-dancing bracket was coming to an end.

  ‘When they play a Two-Step, may I have the pleasure of dancing with you?’

  Ten was taken aback. ‘I … I … don’t know how,’ she stammered.

  ‘I’ll pick one that’s not too fast and I’ll show you. You need only follow my lead.’ The expression in her eyes was gentle as she smiled down into the compelling black ones, whose irises sparkled up at her as they caught flashes from the colored lights.

  ‘I must admit, I would like to try it,’ she replied.

  They continued to stand, side by side, watching the couples whirl around, as many women on the floor now, as men. Suddenly, Galina took Ten’s glass, saying: ‘This is the right one for us.’ Some couples were leaving, others taking their places. She lead her onto the floor, turned her in towards her body, then drew her close.

  ‘Just relax,’ the young woman said: ‘Lean your body into mine and move with me.’ Ten did as she was told. The room darkened. Only the large, silver faceted ball provided light, as it spun slowly on its axis and they danced close, like the other couples. The music was Patsy Cline’s, I FALL TO PIECES.

  Ten had a wonderful experience, loving the sensation of moving to the romantic music. She was a sensitive follower and Galina, a superb leader. They moved together as if of long practise. Galina had never had a partner who responded to her so perfectly. This music should never stop. She could dance forever with this woman in her arms; her body so pliant against hers, she had an overwhelmingly strong attraction to this stranger. She had better exercise control.

  “Try not to make a fool of yourself like last time,” she thought ruefully. They stayed on the floor for the next one too, COME NEXT MONDAY, sung by K. T. Oslin, another slow and sensual number. Ten knew the woman had held her body intimately and she had responded. This, in public view, no matter that she was a stranger; knew nothing about her. It seemed the woman wanted to remain on the floor for another, but she pulled away and looked up without smiling … but something special still hung between them.

  ‘I’d like to sit down.’

  ‘Of course.’ Galina escorted her back to the table. ‘Thank you for the dances. I enjoyed them very much.’ Again she looked deeply into Ten’s eyes. ‘You too, I hope.’ It was a moment before she let go her hand.

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ “This woman has everything to make my bubble shine.” Ten conjectured. She began to blush. Galina was getting to her.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ Moira said, relieved. ‘We wondered where you’d gotten to.’

  ‘Moira, Rani, this is Galina.’ Ten made the introductions.

  ‘Galina. That’s a Ukrainian name, isn’t it?’ Moira asked.

  ‘That’s right. I’m second generation, but I have to admit, I don’t even speak the language.’ The men had moved away so the women took over the seats.

  ‘Have you been dancing long?’ This was Rani.

  ‘Quite a while, but I’m not as regular now as I used to be so I’ve slipped back a bit on the latest dances.’

  ‘Same here,’ Moira concurred, ‘but Rani keeps it up. You can see the size of her waist compared with mine,’ she joked.

  Galina turned to Ten. ‘Do you think you’re interested?’

  She hesitated. ‘I don’t know. How do you get started?’

  ‘That’s an easy one,’ Rani chipped in. ‘They have beginners’ sessions Tuesday and Wednesday, the first part of the evening, then level one follows. Thursday is partner dance and two stepping night, followed by level two.’

  ‘Goodness.’ She was amazed at how specific it all was.

  ‘Yes. It really is quite easy once you’re shown,’ Rani explained, ‘but it’s very hard to pick up just by watching or joining in. Consequently, they don’t move you on to the next level until you’re considered ready.’ She paused. ‘Then if you really show promise, they invite you on to their ‘demo’ team. It seems to me it stops being fun then and becomes hard work.’

  The women chatted comfortably for a while longer, but Ten was beginning to fade. Moira suggested they call it a night and make their farewells to the others. This was easier said than done since the men had become scattered throughout the crowd. In the end, Rani found Serge talking to the stranger. She excused her interruption.

  ‘We’re off. Please say goodbye to the others for us, will you?’

  ‘Sure thing, Rani.’ They kissed. ‘Call you in the week.’

  Galina told Ten what a pleasure it had been meeting her. ‘Any chance I’ll see you here again?’ she asked pointedly.

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it,’ she replied, frowning and Galina noticed how her eyes darkened, introspectively.

  “Outstanding.” she thought. She hoped this woman would like line dancing well enough to take it up. She’d start back at the beginners’ night herself, if it would bring her closer to Tenille.

  ‘Listen, here’s my card.’

 
; She glanced at the business information. Galina Dudikoff, Senior Corporate Services Officer. Treasury Foreign-exchange Department. Toronto Dominion Bank. Heavens-to-Betsy, you never knew who you would meet in this gay world.

  ‘Call me if you want to get involved and I’ll introduce you around.’ Ten nodded and putting the card in her purse, went to join her friends, waiting at the bottom of the stairs. As the three of them made their way to the car, Rani suggested they round the evening off with a nightcap at ‘Reflections’, on Church.

  ‘I’m sorry to bring the evening to an earlier close than you would have wished, Rani, but I’ve not danced in quite a long time and feel totally zipped,’ Ten apologized. ‘But you have been so kind. I do appreciate all your efforts.’

  ‘That’s okay, Tenille. We understand,’ Moira commiserated with her. ‘Rani here never knows when to quit. I’m with you, girl.’

  They arrived home safely, pleasantly fatigued and well satisfied with the evening. Ten had been rather quiet in the car. She knew that soon she would be alone with her thoughts and she didn’t relish the prospect. Moira dropped her off at her door, then drove around to park the car at the back.

  As Ten let herself inside she heard the phone and dashed upstairs as fast as possible. By the time she reached the kitchen, it stopped. Close to midnight, surely that could only have been Sid ‘phoning this late. Her heart gave another lurch at the prospect of Sid wanting to be in touch with her. Perhaps all was not lost? Her mind had been so wrenched about by misgivings and doubts, she couldn’t trust herself to believe anything. A new wariness had developed in her. Things could seem so perfect and then turn out to be horribly wrong. She got ready for bed, prepared to wait and see. She didn’t want to raise her hopes only to have them cruelly dashed.

  After cleaning her teeth, she studied her face in the mirror. She noticed fine lines had formed round her eyes. From her nose to the corner of her mouth, a line was visible on each side. She sighed. Not wrinkles exactly, but she was obviously no longer young. That gnawing fear returned. Perhaps the difference in their ages was too significant. Sid was so emotional. Her mood swings were hard to keep track of and she could shoot off at a tangent in the blink of an eye.

  Brushing her hair at the dressing table, she recalled that special time when Sid had asked if she may do it. It was etched in her memory. That precious moment. It touched deep inside to her heart, back to an innocent time and a sweet purity, now long gone. It could never be recaptured. They had been so happy then. Seemingly nothing could mar their joy. Her mouth opened in a silent cry of despair. Big tears came again, pooling in her eyelids then spilling over to splash down onto her cheeks. She put down her brush and bent her face to her hands. This time she let the tears flow, letting down all the defences she had been at such pains to construct. Now she was weeping for what might have been and for what was lost, her body racked by sobs.

  Tenille’s desolation was complete.

  * * *

  The following week must have been the worst of Ten’s life. Sunday, she expected the phone to ring at any moment. Come Tuesday she knew it wouldn’t happen. Lyndall picked her up as usual for her stint at the Counselling Centre. Her heart wasn’t in it, but she knew it was the best thing for her at this time. On the way back, Lyndall could sense she was not a happy woman. She tried to get her to talk, but she was reluctant to open up. ‘You remember, Ten, you were going to try to mend some fences?’

  ‘No. What are you talking about?’ she asked. Lyndall could be so obscure sometimes. She was looking very sharp tonight. Soft camel tones in her sweater and pants with a russet colored silk scarf at the neck, tied on the side. Ten herself felt lacklustre, dressed in grey and black.

  ‘Last time we talked, you mentioned that all was not as rosy as you would have wished between you and your mother,’ she reminded her.

  ‘Goodness, you do have a good memory. I’d forgotten,’ she confessed.

  ‘So you didn’t call her?’

  ‘No. I didn’t plan to, did I?’ She couldn’t recall any such suggestion, but then she had been so frazzled this past weekend, anything could have gone awry.

  ‘No you didn’t. I just wondered if you might have.’ It had been a shot in the dark on Lyndall’s part. She just wanted to get Tenille talking. She pulled up at the house, hoping Ten would invite her in. No luck this time.

  ‘Lyndall, I have to get an early night. Sorry. Is that okay with you?’

  ‘No problem.’ She was disappointed, but covered her feelings. There was always next week.

  Ten was in bed when the phone rang. This time she dragged herself out. It would not be Sid. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hi Ten, it’s me. Sorry to call so late, but I knew you would be out this evening.’ Devon made her excuse.

  ‘Oh … hello.’ Ten’s voice was flat.

  ‘I’ve been trying to get you. I called Saturday, I was sure I’d be lucky, but you were out.’

  ‘Oh, so it was you who called. I’ve been wondering.’ She realized she should have thought of Devon before, but in truth, all thoughts of her had flown from her head.

  ‘Yes. I felt badly about Friday. I wanted to apologize. I’d had a fair bit to drink and I’d gotten carried away. No hard feelings, I hope?’ Her voice held an anxious note.

  ‘Dev, I can’t talk about that now. Some other time, perhaps. I do want to say that I value your friendship, but anything more than that will only come between us. Do you understand me?’ She didn’t want to close all the doors, but that one was to remain firmly shut from now on. She needed to talk to someone, but it couldn’t be Devon.

  ‘Can we get together again soon?’ she asked. ‘Gene has to go away on business for a week so I’ve all kinds of time,’ she suggested, hopefully.

  ‘I don’t know about this week,’ beginning to get that pressured feeling. ‘I’ll let you know, okay?’

  ‘Cool. You know you can always reach me at the office?’

  They said goodbye and Ten poured herself a glass of mineral water and returned to bed. On the way she collected Monty from the corner of her dressing table and gave him a cuddle. It was a comfort just to hold him. She wished Betsy could be with her, missing her a lot, imagining those devoted eyes meeting hers, filled with love. Sleep eluding her, she tried to lose herself in her book. A fruitless endeavor, this time her mind returning to thoughts of her mother. Lyndall had sown the seed. Perhaps she should be the one to make contact again. She was her mother after all and she, her only child. Now the rift between herself and Sid had developed into a chasm, her mother would feel better about the situation. As her eyelids finally began to close, she made the resolution to be in touch tomorrow.

  The call wasn’t a huge success, but her mother didn’t hang up. She wanted to talk to her dad too, but Doris made some excuse that he couldn’t come to the phone. Ten suspected he wouldn’t be told she’d called, her mother could be like that. However, once it was understood that she was living on her own, Sidonie away studying, the mood softened perceptibly. Doris opened up about their ‘doings’. By the end, the tone of the exchange was cordial. They had come a long way from: “I never want to speak to you again.”

  It did make Ten feel better. Lyndall had been a great help after all. Perhaps she could be the one to confide in? Yes, Lyndall was already a counsellor; had taken her under her wing so to speak. She was also mature.

  ‘Look dear, this must be costing you,’ her mother said, full of concern. ‘I’ll call you next time. I’m so glad you’re walking properly again. I hated seeing you on those crutches. They made you look so ungainly. Not like my graceful girl at all.’

  ‘Yes, Mother.’

  Thursday, Ten found a letter in her mailbox. It was from Sid. She couldn’t wait ’til she was inside, but tore open the envelope where she stood, heart pounding fair set to burst her rib cage. It was brief.

  University of Guelph

  Mon. Sept. 27th

  Tenille,

  Please find enclosed a cheque to cover the ren
t for next month. I plan to pick up my things from the apartment on Saturday afternoon. It will probably be better if you are not there at that time. I will contact you again about my future plans.

  Sidonie.

  A sharp exclamation with the sickening impact. She could only stand and stare, unable to believe she was reading this. That was all there was? Like a letter to a stranger. Worse. She didn’t even want her to be in the house. What was this about ‘future plans’? Anger and animosity bristled from the page like a chill wind, numbing her heart. Did she hate her that much? Well, she would be damned sure she wasn’t around.

  This was it. The final slap in the face and she didn’t need to be made to feel any more worthless. She would write a note of her own suggesting she take on the apartment herself. Now she was working full time she could probably come to some arrangement with Rani and Moira. Get someone else to share, even. Rage rose inside her against this attitude of Sid’s and she was left feeling furious. The final insult. For so long to be carrying the heavy burden of remorse … she would cast it away; no longer be heartsick over a lost love. Too many tears had been wasted over Sidonie Henderson. She could live without her. Perhaps Karen Olhovski had been right all along. In the face of her drunken outburst she had felt so self-satisfied. Full of confidence that she had all the answers; would succeed where she had failed. What a laugh. She berated herself with the realization that she’d not even lasted as long as Karen. What had Karen said? “You’ll find out about her and she’ll break your heart, too.” Something like that.

  Turning slowly, she walked up the path to the side door. Having stood so long, she was cold and shivering and she looked up. The sky, which had been clear and blue earlier, was now washing over with a dark, forbidding grey. A choking silver mist clung to the rooftops. A grey, dark day, she thought, and shivered again, pulling her jacket close about her neck, quickening her pace. She curled her lip and took a deep breath to buttress her resolve, reflecting rebelliously that she wasn’t going to let her break her heart; hostage to that golden smile. Her spirit had been too heady and intoxicating, but oh no, she could remain remote and elusive, sharpening the focus of this fresh understanding. She could harden herself just as easily, but her soul was weeping silently within her.