Outing of the Heart (36 page)

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Authors: Lisa Ann Harper

BOOK: Outing of the Heart
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‘Since you are not part of the Flamenco Cognoscente, I guess you are here to see Tenille dance?' she inquired, as she selected a cigarette from the pack and lit up. ‘Am I right?' She looked directly at Sidonie, not one flicker of changing expression to escape her notice.
She was not sure what a
cognoscente
was, but she could answer the question. ‘Yes, that's right.' She didn't want to talk to this woman and hated smoke in her face. She turned to the dancers again. As she watched she saw that two in particular, were not doing much travelling. Pretty rooted to the spot was more the situation. She'd wait until they returned to their seats, then she'd leave, beginning to feel she should never have come; was totally out of place.
Devon was not finished, still needing to ferret out the connection. ‘So how did you get to know Tenille? I thought I knew all her friends.'
At this, Sidonie gave her attention to the other woman. ‘We met at the gym.'
‘Oh, the gym.' she repeated, as though this explained everything. ‘So you are not an old friend of hers? Although that would be unlikely since there's obviously a big age difference.'
‘Oh? Is there? I'd not noticed.'
‘Hadn't you? She's in her early thirties, now,' Devon affirmed maliciously.
Sidonie fell silent hearing this, as her mind raced. Could it be true? She didn't look to be that age. But then, her skin was flawless; unblemished, with a golden glow. The lines about her eyes and mouth were laugh-lines. Her way of being didn't seem old enough, not self-assured like Jessica or Thea.
‘Just think,' she continued venomously, ‘when you were about ten, running around the school yard, she was like you now.'
“Hardly,”
thought Sidonie to herself, but said out loud, in a grating voice: ‘I don't think Tenille has the same interests as me, at all.'
Devon stubbed out her smoke and leaned forward. She had observed the effect of her words with satisfaction. Yes, there had been more there than met the eye. One more parting shot. ‘She's in the process of getting over her husband, you know. It's been hard, but Raoul is helping her.'
Sidonie's unblinking gaze was cold, while her inner voice told some home truths. “
How foolish you've been girl. This one's not for you. You've not faced up to it before, but she really likes men. Just hearing her talk, you know she's come from money. You may look … but don't touch.”
There was a bitter taste in her mouth, as anger flared dangerously in the pit of her stomach, fuelled by frustration.
The music came to an end and dancers began to drift back. ‘I'll give Tenille her seat,' Devon declared, rising to her feet and moving away, leaving Sidonie to digest this last piece of information.
So Raoul was very much in the picture. She could understand it; more's the pity. He was so damned handsome.
Tenille sat down and picked up her glass. Raoul moved his chair closer to hers. ‘We'll work on a new dance next week, Sweetheart. I can see you are more than ready,' he proclaimed suggestively.
Suddenly Tenille turned to the girl.
‘I guess we'd better go now, hadn't we Sidonie? It's very late and you have an early start tomorrow, haven't you.' She looked with great concentration into her face, willing her to understand her need to be bailed out.
‘True,' she affirmed slowly, looking back, wandering what in hell's name was going on.
‘I'll get my things,' she said hastily, jumping up and almost dragging the cloth with her.
‘Don't go so soon,' Raoul complained. ‘It's not that late. Anyway, tomorrow is Sunday.'
Tenille's back was already disappearing. Sidonie chipped in quickly, ‘I work seven days a week.'
‘You do?' doubt spilled over.
‘Yes, at Woodbine Racetrack. Horses have to be cared for on weekends, too.' She rose and looked about her: ‘Nice meeting you.' She nodded generally to the assembled group who had been taken by surprise by the unfolding events. ‘Thank you for the drink.' She had turned to Raoul.
‘We'll see you again, some time,' Devon said, smiling sweetly.
Sidonie didn't answer, just walked over to her table, put down the money and picked up her jacket. She headed for the rear exit to wait for this puzzling woman and speculate on the sudden change. “
What had happened? It must have been Raoul. Something he said or …”
she grimaced, “
something he's done.”
Tenille appeared, looking about her. She made herself prominent as Tenille walked towards her, waving to the table in passing. She took her big case, leaving her with her purse and jacket. No coat
. “Got a ride in?”
she thought. Perhaps Raoul had brought her and had expected to take her home … or to wherever. Another grimace.
Once the other side of the drapes, in the passageway, they stopped to put on jackets.
‘The car's close. We won't get cold.' She lead the way easily, having conveniently parked under a spot-light.
Tenille acknowledged with a nod only; still not happy, but looking less tense. The chill of the night air bit into them after the warmth of the bar. Welcome really; a cleansing effect on the mind. A fresh start to the night, allowing unpleasantnesses to be expunged. Once settled she turned to Tenille, her hand on the key.
‘What do you want to do?' she asked carefully, with a slow smile. ‘I'm yours to command.' She couldn't help but notice the humor of the statement since of course, Tenille had no idea how much of her she could command.
She shook her head then looked at Sidonie in the light of the yard. ‘I don't know. All I do know is that I needed to get out of there. Everything was going so well and I was happy you were able to make it …' She broke off, giving a hesitant smile. How it transformed her face. Sidonie's stomach contracted as a wave of longing rose up. She couldn't stop herself from reaching out and enveloping the woman's hand in her own. She knew there was no future with this beautiful, unobtainable creature, but it didn't stop the feeling, or her wanting to ease the pain.
‘Tenille. It's okay,' she said huskily. ‘I told you I would do my best to be there and when I say I'll try to do something, then I really do.' She searched the woman's face, noticed an easing of tension about the mouth and eyes. Good. She released her hand and reached again towards the ignition. She would have liked to do more, but Devon's words were ringing in her ears.
Cold was seeping through. She should get the heater going. Fortunately Tercel could pour it out.
‘Well, would you like to go somewhere for a nightcap or would you prefer to have me take you home?' Her voice was low and soft. Tenille liked listening to it. She felt she really would like to be with her for a while longer. She was not yet ready to be alone with her thoughts. She would love to be able to unburden herself to this sympathetic girl who seemed so understanding.
‘The nightcap sounds good. Where do you suggest? I don't know Toronto at night.'
‘Well, I don't either really,' she responded, but I'm told the city looks spectacular from Stop 33 at the top of The Westbury. The night is so dry we should get a very clear view.'
Tenille let go completely and relaxed back into her seat as Sidonie started the engine and swung in a slow, smooth arc out of her space. Downtown from here wouldn't take long; the bar would still be open, no longer rowdy. Parking was easy, just round the corner off Bay Street on Breadalbane. Her previous experience made her decide to be tieless at this bar so she loosened the knot, lifted up her collar and slipped it over her head.
‘You are taking it off,' Tenille observed, as she put it down on the dash.
‘Yes. I thought perhaps it was too much,' was the simple reply.
Tenille picked it up and drew the thin slip of leather gently through her fingers. It still retained body warmth. ‘I liked seeing you in it. Won't you wear it, for me?' She was suddenly embarrassed, as though she'd overstepped a line somewhere. Yet the thought and the words had sprung out of her, before consciousness and drawn forth a blush of color.
‘If that's what you'd like, then that is what I'll do.' She gave her a quick glance, but in the velvet darkness could not discern her expression. She placed it around her collar again and expertly knotted it, the tie falling easily into its accustomed creases.
“This must be a favorite.”
She remembered watching her husband do this. Watching a woman gave a peculiar thrill she'd never before experienced. She wanted to reach out, rest her hand on the fingers manipulating the soft leather; feel them with hers.
“Ten, you are going crazy. What is happening to you?”
By this time Sidonie had completed the task and the crook lock was in place. ‘Shall we go?' Her warm smile drew her in. ‘I don't always use it but downtown, parked on the street, it makes me feel a little more secure. This way.'
Setting a brisk pace back to Bay, Tenille was forced to make an effort to keep in step. A languid mood had settled on her while sitting in the passenger seat, now she had to gear up. As she got into her stride and matched Sidonie's, her feeling of well being was complete. She felt in capable hands, Sidonie radiating an aura of positiveness, which was most reassuring. How fortunate to have met her. Could they become firm friends?
At their appearance in the hotel lobby, the doorman tipped his hat and indicated the direction for Stop 33. Sidonie guided Tenille to the elevators. While they waited she enjoyed looking at her. The cheeks were flushed from the brisk walk and the eyes … so dark and brooding earlier, now flashed and sparkled with happiness, bejewelled with flecks of gold in the soft brown.
“How this woman can change,”
she thought. No hiding of her emotions, her expressive face reveals her feelings.
“That's if you read the signs right,”
she cautioned. The doors opened and she ushered her in; a bit of a squeeze, others having the same idea for winding down. When they opened again it was to the romantic shadows of a cocktail lounge. Somewhere, a pianist played in mellow mood. A young waitress approached, enquiring if they needed a table for four. Sidonie corrected her assumption and asked for one by the window.
‘Yes certainly. This way.'
They followed across the thick-piled carpet. Tenille exclaimed with pleasure at the panorama that met her eyes. The city by night was magical, sparkling lights spinning before her gaze. An undulating skyline defined by silhouettes from downtown office blocks; the CN Tower a majestic pinnacle rising above them all.
They settled themselves opposite each other in deep, comfortable seats, turned slightly towards the view, the table between them low and round. They placed their orders. Sidonie was prepared to let Tenille talk or not, as she felt the need, but intrigued nonetheless by this woman's change of disposition. When Tenille's eyes eventually relinquished the impressive view, she said sincerely: ‘Thank you for helping me out back there. I just knew I had to get away, yet there was no time to explain anything. Fortunately for me, you picked up on the cues. Really, I can't thank you enough.'
‘Do you want to talk about it?'
‘Oh … I won't burden you with my problems … you've done so much already.'
‘Tenille.' Sidonie exclaimed austerely: ‘Don't put yourself down like that. You won't be burdening me. Who made the suggestion anyway?' At this moment their drinks arrived, a Coke and a Sub Zero. Sidonie was quick to place the bills on the tray.
Tenille took her first taste, then sat back. ‘Sorry Sidonie. I do tend to do that. I know I shouldn't. It's an old habit I guess. But you are right and I would like to talk to a sympathetic ear.'
She nodded and sat back, ready to give her undivided attention.
‘It's like this. I want very much to learn to dance really well and I'm in a hurry to make up for lost time. I could go slowly with Belen, but it's faster with Raoul. The problem is, Raoul is too keen on me.' Here Sidonie nodded again. She had seen that for herself.
‘Now Devon thinks I should play up to him, get out of him as much as I can, but then I fear it will go too far and anyway I don't like playing games.' She stopped and took a sip before continuing, her eyes clouding slightly with memories: ‘On the dance floor he kept pressing himself against me. I hated it. I could feel him … you know. It made me sick.'
Sidonie picked up on this and got in quickly. ‘Don't you like men?'
‘Yes of course I do.' equally quick to reply: ‘But not when they behave like that.' She looked frankly at the girl. ‘There is a time and place …' She let the observation drift.
‘You still miss your husband.' A statement rather than a question delivered at a heavy, somewhat measured pace. Tenille's head jerked up.
‘What gave you that idea?'
‘Devon told me Raoul was being supportive in this post-divorce period. But, since you say you're not too keen on his attentions, I just naturally thought it could be because you're missing your husband.' She tried to sound absolutely reasonable, but inside her stomach was churning.
‘Sidonie … that isn't true,' she stumbled. ‘I don't know why Devon would tell you something like that.'
She leaned forward, remaining silent for a while, just looking into her glass. Her thoughts drifted. Perhaps Devon was missing her again? Wanted them back together. If so, would she be tempted? It could be easy to slip into an old familiarity. It would mean a resumption of physical intimacy. She drew back from this. Much as she had wanted to be close, it seemed Devon could not give her what she needed. Yet she didn't know what that was. Ignorance blocked her knowing what magazines meant by ‘Complete Fulfilment'. Her eyes darkened with introspection as her heart felt it would split from an unknown ache. Fulfilment. She had never experienced it, assumed now she never would. She had tried both types of relationships, her husband and Devon; neither had felt right. A deep sigh escaped her as truth burst painfully to her consciousness.

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