Outing of the Heart (20 page)

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Authors: Lisa Ann Harper

BOOK: Outing of the Heart
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‘See you in the morning.'
She lay still beside the sleeping woman, thinking things over. She shouldn't have drunk so much, nor smoked. She had spoiled her first experience with her foolishness. She was very disappointed and unhappy. She turned towards Devon, making out her slim form in the dim light cast by the moon's rays. She looked so lovely and at peace. She was satisfied, she consoled herself. That was important because then Devon would want more. Next time, perhaps, there could be a slow wandering through the feel and fragrance of lovemaking. At last her body relaxed and she was able to drift off. She would have liked to cuddle, but lacked the confidence to approach. She stayed on her back, on her own side.
In the morning, they made love again. This time she was feeling better. Her head had cleared and she had not vomited in the night. They enjoyed seeing each other's body but, like last night, Devon was in a hurry to be penetrated. She was trying for Tenille to climax at the same time, but too bruised and upset, she couldn't.
‘Listen, Kiddo. It can take time. That's natural.' She wanted her to be happy, not moping about. She'd try to brighten.
Over breakfast, Devon began talking about the impact a singer would have on Los Flamencos. ‘Manuel will make all the difference to our professionalism.' She was happy and enthusiastic. Tenille's mood couldn't match hers, but she did her best to keep up.
Devon had promised her parents she would go over for Sunday lunch, they were having a few friends in. It was time to take Tenille home. Just before she dropped her off, Tenille asked when she would see her again.
‘You want to come to my place for dinner tomorrow? We can order in. I know you won't be able to stay over, but we could have the evening together.'
‘Devon, that would be wonderful. Then we'll have lots of time. Not be so rushed.' She thought everything would be better if only the clock were not against them.
‘Good. Shall we say seven then?' She didn't usually see a conquest so soon afterwards. Liked a little time for the heat to build, but this woman was different. She really did things to her.
Sunday finished up being a quiet day, but Tenille didn't mind. This had been enough excitement to last her quite a while. She listened to the radio while she ironed and did some thinking. Alone with her thoughts she could take a longer look at Devon. Yes, she was very attracted to her, but now she realized that everything might not be so easy. Perhaps what she saw and what she wanted had more to do with her imagination than reality? She wasn't lesbian, she knew that. She just found Devon utterly fascinating. The sex part, for all her arousal, had not been a success. She still loved being in her company though. It would be wonderful to have tomorrow evening together. In fact she couldn't wait. Maybe the love-making would get better, as she had said.
*   *   *
The next day Tenille was very excited, her mind buzzing with what lay ahead. She would be more relaxed. Everything would go well. She found a note under her door. The message read: PLEASE phone DEVON AT YOUR EARLIEST CONVENIENCE, in Mrs. Sandrelli's foreign hand; very correct and curly. What could this mean? She felt a lurch of uneasiness.
‘Tenille. I'm glad you called so soon. Listen, Justin wants me to go with him on a business trip.'
She took in a lungful of air in disbelief. They were just getting together. ‘Sorry, Ten, but it's important to him.' She must have heard the gasp and went on to explain.
‘We're flying to Washington then to some other cities. But listen, all is not lost.' She ploughed on purposefully. ‘I've been on the, phone to Raoul.'
‘Raoul Losada? What for?'
‘I don't want you to miss your practises. He's willing to take you on in my place.'
‘Devon.' A wail of distress. ‘I only want to dance with you. I don't know this person. You said we would work together.' She felt wretched. ‘I can miss one week.'
‘Sorry, Kiddo. We leave tomorrow, that's why I can't see you tonight. I'm really disappointed too, but this is business and … we don't get back 'til a week Saturday. I'm really sorry, Ten.'
She just didn't know what to say; was totally devastated. Not back for two weeks. She couldn't think straight, but Devon was continuing.
‘Don't worry; he's good. And he likes you. He'll be happy to do it. Trust me. It'll work out, you'll see. I've fixed everything. Just be there Wednesday, at the usual time.'
Close to tears, she felt so let down and now this. Was she being silly?
‘Promise me you'll be there.'
She couldn't go against Devon; she was too important, but her compliance came at a very high price.
‘Sorry, sorry. I've got to go now. We'll be together when I get back,' she dropped her voice. ‘That's my promise to you.'
With this she had to be content, but still felt battered and dazed. Justin snaps his fingers and she comes running. She felt totally crushed. Disconsolately moving about the apartment, all the heart was taken out of her. She wouldn't go to the studio, Wednesday. It was all well and good for her to say, but she would be on the receiving end. She had seen him dance. He was spectacular on stage, but he could be a tyrant in the studio; make her feel inadequate and foolish. She should have told her ‘No.' right away, but she had been too stunned.
Everything had been going so well. Sitting on the side of the bed, she picked up Montgomery for a cuddle. Did she really want to continue with this Flamenco? She rubbed her cheek against his. Perhaps it was all just a pipe-dream, this becoming a dancer. Perhaps her mother was right? Maybe she didn't have what it takes? With sagging shoulders, she sighed deeply. Right now she was ready to chuck it all in. What was the use?
Someone at her door. It had better not be Furio.
‘Can you spare me a few minutes, Tenille?' Mrs. Sandrelli stood on the threshold. ‘Come up for a glass of wine. I'm alone. The men had to go to Canadian Tire, something to do with a new part for the block heater. We look fair set for a really severe winter this year.' The older woman's chatter had a calming effect. The talk of everyday things brought her out of herself.
‘Give me a moment to change and I'll be right there.' She had thought she would be dressing up for a romantic liaison but instead, here she was slipping into old track pants and sweater. They sat in the living room this time and her hostess poured them each a glass of Lambrusco. Serafina had noticed Tenille's strained expression, but now she seemed more relaxed. This was good because she wanted to broach the subject of last Friday. It made Tenille feel very self-conscious.
She told her she had cross-examined her son, then she asked for her story. Tenille did her best to give a clear account. She was heard out in silence.
‘Well. I don't want trouble and I don't want you to go.' She studied her wine glass then took a drink. ‘Enrico and I have agreed that Furio is going to have to leave.'
‘Oh no.' she was shocked. ‘This is his home. He'll blame me.'
‘Is all right. His father has been wanting him to get himself organized for some time. No work and just lying about at home is not good. Enrico, he wants Furio to get a job and make something of himself.' Discomfort grew. She had never expected such a reaction. Should she feel guilty? But she had done nothing.
‘His uncle, in Montreal, has a contact in the construction business. Furio will be moving there next weekend. He didn't want to go into construction, but he's not done so well at his studies. For now, this will do. He's not pleased, but in these difficult times, at least it's a job. He should come out of this with some enlightenment.
‘I feel so badly about all this.' Tenille's brow furrowed.
‘Don't
, Cara
. My son must learn to accept responsibility for his actions. Enrico and I are just glad nothing developed further and that you were not seriously compromised.'
“Yes,”
she thought:
“Thank goodness for that.”
She would have had to move, then who knew how widespread the repercussions could have been?
It suddenly seemed only a small hitch, Devon being away. Instruction from Raoul could be just the training she needed. She was lucky to have him spend time with her, an accomplished performer like him. She didn't even have to pay. This fill-in was a favor to Devon. Yes, on reflection, she was quite fortunate.
Reconciled over Furio, the two women went on to talk about the dress. Since the turquoise was an intense color, Serafina suggested white fringing. This would trim the neckline and provide an interesting feature for the shoulders. The three tiers of flounce, from hips to just below the knee could each be given a white binding.
‘Now, to make it stand out from the rest, what do you think of red lining to the frills?'
‘Oh yes, that would be dramatic. On second thought; the red wouldn't be too much of a contrast, would it?'
‘Well, the effect is obviously theatrical but then, that's what you want, isn't it?'
Tenille smiled in sudden amusement, just a little twist to her lips. ‘The next thing will be living up to the dress. When people see it they'll expect more of the performer,' she observed wryly.
Serafina regarded her frankly. ‘You will more than do it justice, of that I'm sure,' her smile full of kindness and understanding.
‘This week, then, I'll look for the lining and a flower for my hair and the earrings.' She was getting back to her usual self.
“Red shoes could be another idea.”
Her problems no longer seemed so insurmountable. ‘How long do you think it will take?'
‘Hard for me to say, Tenille. Do you have a deadline?'
‘The show is at the end of March, so we do have lots of time.'
‘
Bene
. I won't have to rush and we can be sure that everything is right.' She left feeling better. It was not in her nature to dwell on the negatives if she could help it. Just sometimes she became too over-burdened. This was not to say she was an out and out Pollyanna. Her optimism was tempered with the good sense of a realist.
*   *   *
With the expectation that Raoul would be a demanding taskmaster, she devoted her spare time to making sure she was solid on the sequences.
A call came from Marissa, Tuesday night when she was heavily into it. She knew they were back at class Thursday, but thought she'd call her to see if she would like to go out again, Friday. She laughed, trying to make light of it. ‘I want to catch you before you get booked up.' Tenille didn't want to go out. She would have been out the previous two nights and that would be enough. What could she say ? ‘By week's end I'm pretty bushed Marissa. Can I let you know?'
She accepted this without demur, hearing refusal in the woman's voice.
Tenille was not sure how well the dance session went. She had done her best, but ended up being stiff and awkward. Raoul's presence was like a deluge, exuding an overwhelming animal strength. His style, although he probably didn't realize it, was forceful and intimidating. He was trying to help, but when she attempted to do as he bade, it fell apart. With his demanding eyes, he made her look at him as they moved around each other. Feeling rushed and bullied, she didn't dance well.
This session with Raoul brought the realization that she had moved out of the sphere of male domination, finding it strange to interact at this level. Now, appreciating more than ever how much it suited her to be with Devon, she already began to look forward to her return.
For Raoul the time had been a delight. He knew talent when he saw it and he knew a beautiful woman when he met one. Tenille had the face and figure a man would find irresistible. At one time he'd thought Devon would be for him, he had slept with her. Just the once. She really wasn't his type. But Tenille … now there was an armful of woman.
“Leche. She sets a man's blood on fire.”
he thought. Out loud he said: ‘We do this again next week, yes.'
Tenille knew this was not a question, but a statement. Despite her discomfort, she was aware the value of his tuition was immeasurable.
As they were dressing for outdoors, he asked if she would like to go out with him on the weekend.
‘Aren't you dancing at the Sancho Panza?'
‘That is only Saturday night. What about Friday?'
She began to feel cornered. Accepting his offer to teach surely didn't mean she had to say ‘yes' to a date? She remembered Marissa.
‘Do you know Marissa Sevese? She dances with Belen.' She rushed on, not giving him time to speak. ‘We've plans, Friday. Sorry, I have to go now. Thank you for the lesson. Perhaps I'll see you at the restaurant.' That should be sufficient to keep him mollified.
She grabbed her stuff to make her escape, but he hurried to the subway with her. Now she couldn't get rid of him. They were both going south to change at Yonge. He sat uncomfortably close, but he was being pleasant, asking questions about where she wanted to go with her dancing. Many eyes turned in their direction. They made a striking couple. He was quite happy to settle for seeing her after the show on Saturday. Devon wouldn't be there with her knowing glances.
She alighted at Spadina; Raoul changed to go north to Lawrence. He had only taken the long way round to spend more time with her.
The next day, when everyone got back to class, it was like old home week. It was good to see Ingrid and Wendy again. Daphne was back and of course, Marissa. There were some new faces Tenille didn't know. More men too. Later she learned they were from another class. Belen had several on the go.
Belen was anxious to present as balanced a troupe as possible. So often women dominated dance events, it being too hard to get men to participate. Calling everyone to order was not easy, but eventually the hubbub died down and they started.

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