Outing of the Heart (50 page)

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Authors: Lisa Ann Harper

BOOK: Outing of the Heart
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It had been a bold move and she was ready to retreat, a slight flush to her face, as she looked back at the girl, with questioning eyes. Sidonie gave her a warm smile, placing her hand over hers, pressing it harder against her flesh.
‘You don't have to be shy with me, Babe.' Her words were tender.
Such fine blonde hairs speckled the glowing tan of the fair skin. She let her fingers caress gently up and down. When changing gears, she felt the muscles jump into action, causing a cascade of heat down to her centre, as her belly turned over. With Sidonie, she experienced such fierce, wonderful feelings; she had not known her body capable of. She filled her with wonder.
They didn't talk; the radio was on and Linda Rhonstadt sang, HEARTBEAT ACCELERATING. The refrain: ‘Love where can you be? I am waiting,' they especially appreciated … and Linda's voice.
A busy night at La Focaccia, they had to sit in the little waiting area, glass of red wine to hand. Looking round they thought perhaps shorts were too casual, but being located close to ‘Italianville', families were catered to. Not like that night at Quo Vadis, Tenille reflected.
Taking the plunge Sidonie asked her question.
‘I've got the shows tomorrow night. We don't finish 'til after one,' eyes stricken, wanting to spend as much time as she could with this girl. Unfortunately, there were commitments.
‘This is true, but we could go somewhere I know goes 'til three.'
‘That's awfully late for you,' dubious that getting together would be possible.
‘Oh, we don't have to stay 'til closing. I just meant there'd still be lots of time after Sancho's.'
‘Then I'd like that very much.'
The Maitre ‘d called their number. It was a lively restaurant, noisy when they arrived, but in their corner beginning to settle down.
Over coffee Sidonie rallied sufficiently to return to the topic of going out.
‘Tenille …' she hesitated then continued bravely: ‘Would you like for us to dance tomorrow night?'
She blinked, taken by surprise.
‘You know … not just disco … but slow dancing?' The question was asked tentatively, her eyes the deepest blue, a fiery rush of blood heating her cheeks as she regarded the woman opposite. She was still so unsure of her ground.
Tenille had never contemplated such an activity and stopped to let her brain explore the possibility. Dance, with Sidonie? Dance close to her, in her arms like a couple? The prospect was exciting.
‘Oh, Sidonie, I'd love to do that,' she exclaimed with delight.
‘Hang on. Do you realize what this means … like where we have to go?'
She stopped her wildly fanciful thoughts of being twirled around the dance floor and gave attention to the words. Would it mean a gay bar, with homosexuals? Would she have to see men dancing with men? She wasn't sure how she would take to that. What she and Sidonie shared was wonderful and special. Nothing to do with ‘gay power' or ‘marches'. That was far removed from how she felt about this girl.
‘I'm not sure,' she whispered, seriously. ‘I've never been to a … to a … gay place.' She looked up, her eyes turning softer and a smile lit her face. ‘But if that's where you want to go, I'll go with you. I trust you.'
Sidonie's eyes met and locked with hers and she saw the truth reflected there. ‘Of course I'd not suggest a place you wouldn't like. I just wanted to be sure you understood what I was talking about.' She gave her a smile so radiant, she felt angel's wings had brushed her. This girl was captain of her heart. ‘So shall we say it's a date for tomorrow night?'
‘Yes.' Her gaze held unequivocal trust. ‘So long as you are there to take care of me, I know I'll be safe.' A heartbeat of silence: ‘And just being with you will make me happy,' she added shyly.
Sidonie's heart swelled in her breast. She felt so protective. She'd never let any harm come to her. ‘Good,' was all she said in response to this declaration, although her body was doing all sorts of crazy things. ‘I'll catch your last show, then we can go from there.'
It was time for the bill and true to her promise, Sidonie paid for them both and Tenille gave her a gracious thank you.
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 company, 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?'

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