Outing of the Heart (70 page)
Read Outing of the Heart Online
Authors: Lisa Ann Harper
âWell, I agree with all you've just said and, I can add that it probably will be better for me to be at home just for a little while. I'll be able to rest lots and concentrate on my physio. This should make me independent sooner.'
She regarded her quizzically. âThere, how's that? Is that a sufficiently positive note to get us off on our mini vacation?' Laughter erupted, elation filling her once again.
âThat'll do for now. We may be able to find some more positive things later, you never know,' she added, looking sideways under her eyelids in a decidedly suggestive manner. Tenille's heart raced. She knew intimacies between them in her parent's home would be impossible, but her body could not help but respond to the idea of kisses and caresses.
âLike I said, about thirty minutes ago Ten, let's get outta here and kick off the dust of this town.'
She picked up the crutches as Tenille stood and propped one under each arm, then collected the overnight bag and the parting gift for the nurses.
âI'll hand that over to Staff Nurse,' Tenille indicated the presentation box: âAnd then we'll be gone.'
The wait at the elevators seemed long. Obviously many of the staff wanted to send Tenille off with their best wishes. Sidonie helped her negotiate her entry into the auto. It turned out to be quite a lengthy procedure. She had to turn her back to the seat and transfer one crutch over to join the other, she could then place them in her right hand and lower herself onto the seat with her left. Meanwhile, Sidonie, supporting her left leg, lifted it up and over into the car. They made a good team, completing the manoeuvre without impatience.
Once settled, Sidonie drove carefully to McPherson and was in luck again with her parking. She collected the crutches and ran back to the passenger side, gallantly helping Tenille out. The car seat being so low, made it awkward for her to move, she felt like a beached whale, needing to be hauled, pushed and prodded.
Mrs. Sandrelli greeted them warmly, opening the door and coming forward as soon as they pulled up. âDid they feed you good in that hospital? You look like you could do with a big bowl of
Cannelloni
,' she grumbled.
âYes, they fed me well, but I didn't want to eat. I seemed to lose my appetite ⦠but it's coming back now,' she hastened to reassure her.
âAnd how're you doing with those?' Serafina pointed to the crutches.
âJust fine. I'm getting the hang of them. Sometimes, for short distances, I just hop. At first hopping made my foot throb, but it's used to it now.'
âWe're here to get some things, then I'm driving Ten up to her parents'. She'll be there for a little while, convalescing,' Sidonie explained, wanting to hurry along the departure process so they could be on the road, completing the journey before nightfall.
â
Si si
, of course. You let me know when you coming back,
Cara.
I get some groceries for you, okay?' Serafina asked.
âOh yes, that would be great. It's always nice to make coffee after a long journey.'
âWe'll just get ourselves organized here,' interjected Sidonie, âthen we'll be gone.'
âI'll write you a cheque for the rent 'til the end of July,' Tenille offered while Sidonie did her best to curb her impatience. âThen we can start again in August, if that's all right with you?' she queried, oblivious to Sidonie's hopping about like a jackrabbit.
âDon't you worry your head about money right now,
Cara
. We settle up later. You know this is a safe place to store your possessions while you're gone,' Serafina assured her.
At last they wound it up allowing Sidonie to move on down to the apartment. Tenille experienced difficulty on the stairs now she had this awkward, heavy cast. Sidonie got her settled on the bed then immediately put her arms round her to give her a deep and lingering kiss. Tenille's mouth was soft and yielding, her kiss as hungry as hers. She lay back against the pillows and began to relax in Sidonie's capable hands, watching her move about the apartment, collecting things at her bidding. She emptied out the overnight bag and transferred toiletries to Tenille's large valise. This would have been going on the Los Flamencos tour; now it was for a trip home. The thought made her sad. She wondered how the troupe was doing, south of the line. How exciting to be a part of all that glitz and glamor â the nightclub scene. But then, she reflected, she had never really been one for that sort of thing. True she loved the dancing, but she wasn't a party animal. That was more Devon's bailiwick.
“Ah Devon. What are you doing now?”
âThat was a big sigh. Is everything all right?' Sidonie's anxious enquiry came through, as if from a long distance. Still, it penetrated her thoughts and brought her back to present practicalities.
âSure, Honey. How're you doing there?' She made an effort to lift her spirits. âAt least being summertime I only need light clothing. I can wash stuff everyday. My parents are on town water,' she clarified, as Sidonie looked surprised at the observation.
âRight. That's it, Babe. I think I've packed just about one of each. And look at this. I can still close the lid without sitting on it.' She snapped the clasps then asked where she wanted her medications. âPurse or toilet bag?'
âPurse for now, Sid. They're q.i.d. 'til the end of the week.'
âAnd what's that supposed to mean?' retorting in mock exasperation. âA few days in the hospital and you go all professional on me,' her banter light. At last all done, they said their farewells to Mrs. Sandrelli and Sidonie carried the valise to the trunk, storing it next to her own. It only remained to help Tenille out to the car.
She regarded her quizzically. âThere, how's that? Is that a sufficiently positive note to get us off on our mini vacation?' Laughter erupted, elation filling her once again.
âThat'll do for now. We may be able to find some more positive things later, you never know,' she added, looking sideways under her eyelids in a decidedly suggestive manner. Tenille's heart raced. She knew intimacies between them in her parent's home would be impossible, but her body could not help but respond to the idea of kisses and caresses.
âLike I said, about thirty minutes ago Ten, let's get outta here and kick off the dust of this town.'
She picked up the crutches as Tenille stood and propped one under each arm, then collected the overnight bag and the parting gift for the nurses.
âI'll hand that over to Staff Nurse,' Tenille indicated the presentation box: âAnd then we'll be gone.'
The wait at the elevators seemed long. Obviously many of the staff wanted to send Tenille off with their best wishes. Sidonie helped her negotiate her entry into the auto. It turned out to be quite a lengthy procedure. She had to turn her back to the seat and transfer one crutch over to join the other, she could then place them in her right hand and lower herself onto the seat with her left. Meanwhile, Sidonie, supporting her left leg, lifted it up and over into the car. They made a good team, completing the manoeuvre without impatience.
Once settled, Sidonie drove carefully to McPherson and was in luck again with her parking. She collected the crutches and ran back to the passenger side, gallantly helping Tenille out. The car seat being so low, made it awkward for her to move, she felt like a beached whale, needing to be hauled, pushed and prodded.
Mrs. Sandrelli greeted them warmly, opening the door and coming forward as soon as they pulled up. âDid they feed you good in that hospital? You look like you could do with a big bowl of
Cannelloni
,' she grumbled.
âYes, they fed me well, but I didn't want to eat. I seemed to lose my appetite ⦠but it's coming back now,' she hastened to reassure her.
âAnd how're you doing with those?' Serafina pointed to the crutches.
âJust fine. I'm getting the hang of them. Sometimes, for short distances, I just hop. At first hopping made my foot throb, but it's used to it now.'
âWe're here to get some things, then I'm driving Ten up to her parents'. She'll be there for a little while, convalescing,' Sidonie explained, wanting to hurry along the departure process so they could be on the road, completing the journey before nightfall.
â
Si si
, of course. You let me know when you coming back,
Cara.
I get some groceries for you, okay?' Serafina asked.
âOh yes, that would be great. It's always nice to make coffee after a long journey.'
âWe'll just get ourselves organized here,' interjected Sidonie, âthen we'll be gone.'
âI'll write you a cheque for the rent 'til the end of July,' Tenille offered while Sidonie did her best to curb her impatience. âThen we can start again in August, if that's all right with you?' she queried, oblivious to Sidonie's hopping about like a jackrabbit.
âDon't you worry your head about money right now,
Cara
. We settle up later. You know this is a safe place to store your possessions while you're gone,' Serafina assured her.
At last they wound it up allowing Sidonie to move on down to the apartment. Tenille experienced difficulty on the stairs now she had this awkward, heavy cast. Sidonie got her settled on the bed then immediately put her arms round her to give her a deep and lingering kiss. Tenille's mouth was soft and yielding, her kiss as hungry as hers. She lay back against the pillows and began to relax in Sidonie's capable hands, watching her move about the apartment, collecting things at her bidding. She emptied out the overnight bag and transferred toiletries to Tenille's large valise. This would have been going on the Los Flamencos tour; now it was for a trip home. The thought made her sad. She wondered how the troupe was doing, south of the line. How exciting to be a part of all that glitz and glamor â the nightclub scene. But then, she reflected, she had never really been one for that sort of thing. True she loved the dancing, but she wasn't a party animal. That was more Devon's bailiwick.
“Ah Devon. What are you doing now?”
âThat was a big sigh. Is everything all right?' Sidonie's anxious enquiry came through, as if from a long distance. Still, it penetrated her thoughts and brought her back to present practicalities.
âSure, Honey. How're you doing there?' She made an effort to lift her spirits. âAt least being summertime I only need light clothing. I can wash stuff everyday. My parents are on town water,' she clarified, as Sidonie looked surprised at the observation.
âRight. That's it, Babe. I think I've packed just about one of each. And look at this. I can still close the lid without sitting on it.' She snapped the clasps then asked where she wanted her medications. âPurse or toilet bag?'
âPurse for now, Sid. They're q.i.d. 'til the end of the week.'
âAnd what's that supposed to mean?' retorting in mock exasperation. âA few days in the hospital and you go all professional on me,' her banter light. At last all done, they said their farewells to Mrs. Sandrelli and Sidonie carried the valise to the trunk, storing it next to her own. It only remained to help Tenille out to the car.
CHAPTER 11
Sidonie drove north to the 401 then travelled eastward to highway #115. She could have taken a more diagonal route, but felt comfortable with this. Being Thursday they were avoiding the mass exodus of Torontonians who, every weekend, headed for release from the daily grind and up to cottage country.
Chatting was companionable, any former strain gone with the disappearance of the city skyscrapers. Admiration for the greenness of the farmers' fields, not yet dried out by the heat of the summer sun, filled their consciousness. The sky was a clear blue with just the odd fluffy cumulus floating at leisure in the stratosphere. It felt good to get away from the constant pall of pollution which hung over Toronto. Driving southward from Parry Sound or other points north, the distinctive grey haze which so characterized the city's location by Lake Ontario, was unmistakable. In contrast, there were no diesel fumes here and the amount of traffic dwindled to the odd motorbike; they had the road to themselves. Escape was therapeutic. Sidonie spotted a deserted lay-by and pulled over.
âWhy are we stopping?' Tenille queried without concern, simply idle curiosity.
âYou'll see,' was the only response.
The engine cut, she swung round, fiery eyes pinning Ten's. âFor old time's sake,' she said huskily as she took her into her arms and their lips met impetuously. She felt Ten's breasts pressing against her own. She caught the musky aroma of her oil and her senses reeled. Ten's body was hot within her embrace as she moved herself closer, their hearts pounding and pulses racing. Encapsulated in their own private world, she could indulge her need, greedily. She heard Ten's sigh as her head rested back.
âYes my darling, it has been a very long time,' she responded to Sid's non-verbalized thoughts. She yielded herself to her caresses and let her body conduct her on a wave of feeling that was sweeping her almost to the highest crest. Sid placed her hand at the base of the slender column of Ten's throat as her tongue explored and probed, then let her hand move slowly downward, feeling heavy on the twin mounds which responded eagerly. Ten wanted more, but was lulled into savoring the pleasures of the moment and could make no demands on her lover. She let her hand slide down the side of Sid's body to come to rest on the bare flesh of her hot thigh, just below the shorts. As the kiss grew more intense, more demanding, her boldness increased, sliding her hand under the fabric, resting it on the inner softness of the muscular leg. The feel of the warm flesh held promise of intimacies so often dreamed of, but not yet experienced. She wanted to go further then felt her wrist clasped and held firm.
Sid had pulled away slightly as she felt herself loosing control, to murmur in Ten's ear: âIf you want to arrive safely and in one piece, you'd best let my hands steer.' The voice was thick and deep; the voice she recognized as filled with longing and desire unsatisfied. This aroused her more, almost beyond enduring. She wanted to give herself completely to this girl; have her do anything to her she may desire. Was she making herself abject in her love? It felt so natural. It was how she wanted to be, as she had never been with anyone before; complete submission. Her body wanted this above all; wanted to be the instrument of Sid's lovemaking, upon which she could play melodies and harmonies, to resonate throughout her whole being. The intimacy so close, she would be consumed by her. Her body still throbbing with passion, she opened her eyes and felt her joy complete when she focused on Sid's face, so near, her brilliant eyes blazing into hers, the golden flecks in the azure as clear as filtered cider; the streams of light from the afternoon sun illuminating her golden head.
Sid felt herself drowning in those lustrous, dark eyes as they smoldered back into hers, bright and shiny in their glistening moistness. She wanted nothing more than to make this moment last and last ⦠to reach Ten to the ultimate; to the orgasm she knew was ready, had only lovingly to be drawn forth, until she moaned in ecstasy and clung to her ⦠the emissary to all her innermost pleasures. She knew she could do it and one day she would.
She turned the ignition key. They took time to let the heat subside, giving themselves over to the sublimated excitement of cutting up the highway at warp factor, the wind blowing through the car, its touch feathery light, across their sweat-dampened brows.
âIt's times like this I wish I had a âV 8' convertible, low slung with chrome wheels,' she confided , âquite impractical for our climate,' she added prosaically, âbut a wonderful fantasy.' In wistful reflection she recalled an earlier one, after they had met in the sauna.
Tenille had ridden in the car naked, whilst she'd been fully clothed. She had driven recklessly through the silent night, still able to discern the contours of the woman's body, her breasts, stomach and thighs, all that she'd seen before. Now she did have her next to her and, if not naked, then certainly with clothes showing the promise of the pleasures that lay beneath. The tank top, low cut at the neck, front and back, showed erect nipples through the soft cloth. The madras cotton skirt, falling in full pleats from the waistband, draped revealingly across her belly and thighs, leading the eye enticingly towards the hidden cleft where she so longed to stroke, taste and smell. Yes. One day. She drew her eyes back to the road just in time to make a steering correction. âOops â sorry. Better concentrate,' she apologized.
âYes, didn't you say,
âsafe and in one piece'
, a moment ago?'
âI did, I did,' she conceded. âI was letting my thoughts wander again. Tell me. I believe we'll be coming into Lindsay soon. Do I have to make a turn?'
âNot until you're actually on Kent St. and then it's left into Maple Avenue. It's number twenty seven. Simple,' she paused for a moment then resumed: âSid â¦
âMm..m?'
âI'm glad you stopped back there.'
âSo am I Babe,' she confessed.
âIt's just that ⦠well, we may not get much time alone.' She hesitated, wanting to explain. âMy mother demands a lot of attention when I visit.' She took a deep breath: âYou see, she doesn't think I have any life of my own; like independent of her. It's as though I'm still a child ⦠she expects me to be there for her ⦠all the time.' She cast Sid a rueful look. âI'm sorry, but there it is, I can't change her.' The shoulders heaved. âShe may want to dominate you too, but you being who you are ⦠you'll probably be able to handle her.'
âAs to that, we'll see. I want to get along with your folks,' she reminded her. âI'm not about to shake their tree.' She turned her head. âYou don't mention you're dad,' curious and intrigued. âHow does he feature in all this?'
âThey've been together for so many years now, they've slipped into habit patterns when responding to each other. They have such well worn grooves, anything different would make them uncomfortable. Over the years it appears my mother has the more domineering, well, perhaps that's too strong a word, but let's say, the more demanding personality. Dad, being a Libran, likes to keep the peace and not rock the boat. Where he can, he goes along with Mom and concedes most things. I don't know if he'd know what to do, if he didn't have her to chivvy him. It's made him careless. He doesn't need to think. Dad knows she'll do it for him. Consequently people turn to her.'
âWhat does your dad do?'
âHe works in the office at Union Carbide. In that environment he's responsible for about fifteen staff; an accountant by profession.'
âWhat does he like to do to relax â for fun?'
âFor fun?' repeated Tenille, musingly. âYou know, I don't really connect those two concepts â my father and fun. He enjoys fishing when he can get away.' Her face lit up. âI've been out with him, to the Kawartha's and we've had great times, but mom never liked it, so his interest waned.'
They were approaching Lindsay itself now, an old settlement of Maple-lined streets with large, clapboard houses set well back. The atmosphere was sleepy; undisturbed.
âTell me about where you grew up, Ten,' wanting to know everything.
Tenille laughed. âNot much to tell, really. There are some families who can trace their ancestors to pioneer days. The newer suburbs feature smaller residences of the fifties and sixties, the outskirts are home to trailer parks and development lots. Around the town, land is devoted mainly to dairy cattle and their needs, but with the advent of hard times, many of the farmers have turned to running feed lots and working elsewhere.'
âWhere do they go?'
âGeneral Motors at Oshawa is a big employer. Others take their chances as long distance transport drivers. Good money for them in both occupations, but its long hours; especially the driving. Lindsay itself is a clearing depot for farm produce. The farming co-operative is very powerful. Oh, turn left here, Sid,' she instructed: âNumber twenty-seven is that white and green one on the right, with the big veranda along the front.'
Sidonie spotted it immediately. The house belonged to another era when construction was on the grand scale. She lifted a wry eyebrow.
âWhew â¦' she breathed, â â¦you grew up there?' Although impressed, a sudden clutch of foreboding gripped her. Perhaps this encounter wasn't going to be quite such a free trot. When she thought of her own humble beginnings, first in a small apartment in Victoria Park and later in a Government co-operative complex, bursting at the seams with kids and harried mothers, this was light years away from her experience. Agitation spiralled upwards, making her dubious about becoming buddies with Mr. and Mrs. Fenech. She lifted her head, still clouded with concern ⦠she could only try. The crescent driveway directed her to the imposing porch at the front of the house.
âDon't worry about our bags now, we can see to them later,' Tenille suggested. She began to mount the broad steps that rose to the wide veranda. It was a laborious process. She had to balance on her crutches as she stepped up with her right foot, once stable, she brought her cast leg and crutches up to it. Just as she reached the top, Mrs. Fenech opened the door. It was solid, of carved timber, but the etched sidelights allowed observation of callers.
âTennie, my poor darling,' her mother cried dramatically, as she rushed forward to embrace her daughter. She was unprepared for the cumbersomeness of someone holding onto crutches, with a foot stuck in the air. Tenille almost overbalanced with the impact of her mother's weight and wobbled, perilously. âCome in Lovey. Come and rest,' Doris fussed.
âMom.' Tenille turned towards Sidonie: âI'd like to introduce my friend, Sidonie Henderson.' She turned back to her mother. âShe very kindly took time off work to bring me here.' She wanted her mother to feel somewhat indebted to Sid. Perhaps suspend her critical judgements, before she hardened her opinion against her, which deep down she feared she could.
Sidonie stepped forward promptly to shake hands, hoping to exude a feeling of respect and good will. âHi Mrs. Fenech. Pleased to meet you,' she said in affable salutation. Doris gave a slight jerk backwards, as if she'd stepped into a cobweb.
âOh, yes,' she acknowledged. âHow do you do.' She dropped Sidonie's hand quickly and turned back to her daughter.
âCome along girls, you must be tired. I'll make us all a nice cup of tea.' She put her hand out to Tenille. âCan you manage, Tennie?'
âYes Mom, I'm fine. Watch me.' She hopped forward briskly to the threshold. There she stopped and, because of her anxiety over this first meeting, became flustered and put her crutches up first and almost overbalanced backwards as she tried to jump.
âSteady Ten.' Sidonie rushed forward to save her from falling. âStep your right foot forward,' she reminded her.
âYes, of course, silly me. I know that's the way to do it,' a hasty reply, trying to cover her embarrassment. Doris felt helpless and displaced as she watched her daughter being guided by this person she found rather unusual. Not the type her Tennie normally chummed with. She viewed her as being a bit rough. Working class. Those shorts. Startlingly blue eyes though.
“Well, at least she smells clean,
“ she granted grudgingly. She didn't enjoy being placed in a secondary role, especially where her daughter was concerned.
Tenille led the way to the living room and settled herself into an over-stuffed chesterfield and patted the cushion beside her for Sidonie. Sitting down, her glances were busy taking in everything: an array of antiques, strategically placed about the room: an ornate display cabinet, holding a large collection of art glass of the Art Nouveau period: Art Deco figurines. She'd never owned any, but she'd always found those graceful naiads captivating. There was even strip lighting, showing off the colors to best advantage.
“Hell's teeth. No wonder she's got that special air about her. She's cultured.”
thought Sidonie, as her gaze swung back to this woman she loved above all else. Mrs. Fenech's voice intruded.
âWould Earl Grey suit you, Sidonie?' she was enquiring.
âEr..r, would it be possible to have a coffee?' Sidonie asked, hesitantly. âI don't mind instant.' As an after thought, she added, âI don't want to make work for you,' since Doris continued to regard her as if from a great distance.
Tenille dove in. âYes Mom, just regular coffees would be fine for us.' âWe didn't stop on the way,' she added lamely, in unnecessary justification. âWhere's Betsy? I thought she'd be at the door.'
âI put her out, knowing you'd be on crutches Tennie, but I'll let her in now that you're settled. I didn't want to risk her making you fall.' Doris rose on these words and caught an exchange of looks between the two women. She now felt even more uncomfortable; a state of being with which she was not familiar, especially in her own home. Her world had been ordered and predictable for so long. Very little ever disturbed the even tenor of her days. However, in the space of fifteen minutes she had been made to feel decidedly at odds with herself.
Sidonie drove north to the 401 then travelled eastward to highway #115. She could have taken a more diagonal route, but felt comfortable with this. Being Thursday they were avoiding the mass exodus of Torontonians who, every weekend, headed for release from the daily grind and up to cottage country.
Chatting was companionable, any former strain gone with the disappearance of the city skyscrapers. Admiration for the greenness of the farmers' fields, not yet dried out by the heat of the summer sun, filled their consciousness. The sky was a clear blue with just the odd fluffy cumulus floating at leisure in the stratosphere. It felt good to get away from the constant pall of pollution which hung over Toronto. Driving southward from Parry Sound or other points north, the distinctive grey haze which so characterized the city's location by Lake Ontario, was unmistakable. In contrast, there were no diesel fumes here and the amount of traffic dwindled to the odd motorbike; they had the road to themselves. Escape was therapeutic. Sidonie spotted a deserted lay-by and pulled over.
âWhy are we stopping?' Tenille queried without concern, simply idle curiosity.
âYou'll see,' was the only response.
The engine cut, she swung round, fiery eyes pinning Ten's. âFor old time's sake,' she said huskily as she took her into her arms and their lips met impetuously. She felt Ten's breasts pressing against her own. She caught the musky aroma of her oil and her senses reeled. Ten's body was hot within her embrace as she moved herself closer, their hearts pounding and pulses racing. Encapsulated in their own private world, she could indulge her need, greedily. She heard Ten's sigh as her head rested back.
âYes my darling, it has been a very long time,' she responded to Sid's non-verbalized thoughts. She yielded herself to her caresses and let her body conduct her on a wave of feeling that was sweeping her almost to the highest crest. Sid placed her hand at the base of the slender column of Ten's throat as her tongue explored and probed, then let her hand move slowly downward, feeling heavy on the twin mounds which responded eagerly. Ten wanted more, but was lulled into savoring the pleasures of the moment and could make no demands on her lover. She let her hand slide down the side of Sid's body to come to rest on the bare flesh of her hot thigh, just below the shorts. As the kiss grew more intense, more demanding, her boldness increased, sliding her hand under the fabric, resting it on the inner softness of the muscular leg. The feel of the warm flesh held promise of intimacies so often dreamed of, but not yet experienced. She wanted to go further then felt her wrist clasped and held firm.
Sid had pulled away slightly as she felt herself loosing control, to murmur in Ten's ear: âIf you want to arrive safely and in one piece, you'd best let my hands steer.' The voice was thick and deep; the voice she recognized as filled with longing and desire unsatisfied. This aroused her more, almost beyond enduring. She wanted to give herself completely to this girl; have her do anything to her she may desire. Was she making herself abject in her love? It felt so natural. It was how she wanted to be, as she had never been with anyone before; complete submission. Her body wanted this above all; wanted to be the instrument of Sid's lovemaking, upon which she could play melodies and harmonies, to resonate throughout her whole being. The intimacy so close, she would be consumed by her. Her body still throbbing with passion, she opened her eyes and felt her joy complete when she focused on Sid's face, so near, her brilliant eyes blazing into hers, the golden flecks in the azure as clear as filtered cider; the streams of light from the afternoon sun illuminating her golden head.
Sid felt herself drowning in those lustrous, dark eyes as they smoldered back into hers, bright and shiny in their glistening moistness. She wanted nothing more than to make this moment last and last ⦠to reach Ten to the ultimate; to the orgasm she knew was ready, had only lovingly to be drawn forth, until she moaned in ecstasy and clung to her ⦠the emissary to all her innermost pleasures. She knew she could do it and one day she would.
She turned the ignition key. They took time to let the heat subside, giving themselves over to the sublimated excitement of cutting up the highway at warp factor, the wind blowing through the car, its touch feathery light, across their sweat-dampened brows.
âIt's times like this I wish I had a âV 8' convertible, low slung with chrome wheels,' she confided , âquite impractical for our climate,' she added prosaically, âbut a wonderful fantasy.' In wistful reflection she recalled an earlier one, after they had met in the sauna.
Tenille had ridden in the car naked, whilst she'd been fully clothed. She had driven recklessly through the silent night, still able to discern the contours of the woman's body, her breasts, stomach and thighs, all that she'd seen before. Now she did have her next to her and, if not naked, then certainly with clothes showing the promise of the pleasures that lay beneath. The tank top, low cut at the neck, front and back, showed erect nipples through the soft cloth. The madras cotton skirt, falling in full pleats from the waistband, draped revealingly across her belly and thighs, leading the eye enticingly towards the hidden cleft where she so longed to stroke, taste and smell. Yes. One day. She drew her eyes back to the road just in time to make a steering correction. âOops â sorry. Better concentrate,' she apologized.
âYes, didn't you say,
âsafe and in one piece'
, a moment ago?'
âI did, I did,' she conceded. âI was letting my thoughts wander again. Tell me. I believe we'll be coming into Lindsay soon. Do I have to make a turn?'
âNot until you're actually on Kent St. and then it's left into Maple Avenue. It's number twenty seven. Simple,' she paused for a moment then resumed: âSid â¦
âMm..m?'
âI'm glad you stopped back there.'
âSo am I Babe,' she confessed.
âIt's just that ⦠well, we may not get much time alone.' She hesitated, wanting to explain. âMy mother demands a lot of attention when I visit.' She took a deep breath: âYou see, she doesn't think I have any life of my own; like independent of her. It's as though I'm still a child ⦠she expects me to be there for her ⦠all the time.' She cast Sid a rueful look. âI'm sorry, but there it is, I can't change her.' The shoulders heaved. âShe may want to dominate you too, but you being who you are ⦠you'll probably be able to handle her.'
âAs to that, we'll see. I want to get along with your folks,' she reminded her. âI'm not about to shake their tree.' She turned her head. âYou don't mention you're dad,' curious and intrigued. âHow does he feature in all this?'
âThey've been together for so many years now, they've slipped into habit patterns when responding to each other. They have such well worn grooves, anything different would make them uncomfortable. Over the years it appears my mother has the more domineering, well, perhaps that's too strong a word, but let's say, the more demanding personality. Dad, being a Libran, likes to keep the peace and not rock the boat. Where he can, he goes along with Mom and concedes most things. I don't know if he'd know what to do, if he didn't have her to chivvy him. It's made him careless. He doesn't need to think. Dad knows she'll do it for him. Consequently people turn to her.'
âWhat does your dad do?'
âHe works in the office at Union Carbide. In that environment he's responsible for about fifteen staff; an accountant by profession.'
âWhat does he like to do to relax â for fun?'
âFor fun?' repeated Tenille, musingly. âYou know, I don't really connect those two concepts â my father and fun. He enjoys fishing when he can get away.' Her face lit up. âI've been out with him, to the Kawartha's and we've had great times, but mom never liked it, so his interest waned.'
They were approaching Lindsay itself now, an old settlement of Maple-lined streets with large, clapboard houses set well back. The atmosphere was sleepy; undisturbed.
âTell me about where you grew up, Ten,' wanting to know everything.
Tenille laughed. âNot much to tell, really. There are some families who can trace their ancestors to pioneer days. The newer suburbs feature smaller residences of the fifties and sixties, the outskirts are home to trailer parks and development lots. Around the town, land is devoted mainly to dairy cattle and their needs, but with the advent of hard times, many of the farmers have turned to running feed lots and working elsewhere.'
âWhere do they go?'
âGeneral Motors at Oshawa is a big employer. Others take their chances as long distance transport drivers. Good money for them in both occupations, but its long hours; especially the driving. Lindsay itself is a clearing depot for farm produce. The farming co-operative is very powerful. Oh, turn left here, Sid,' she instructed: âNumber twenty-seven is that white and green one on the right, with the big veranda along the front.'
Sidonie spotted it immediately. The house belonged to another era when construction was on the grand scale. She lifted a wry eyebrow.
âWhew â¦' she breathed, â â¦you grew up there?' Although impressed, a sudden clutch of foreboding gripped her. Perhaps this encounter wasn't going to be quite such a free trot. When she thought of her own humble beginnings, first in a small apartment in Victoria Park and later in a Government co-operative complex, bursting at the seams with kids and harried mothers, this was light years away from her experience. Agitation spiralled upwards, making her dubious about becoming buddies with Mr. and Mrs. Fenech. She lifted her head, still clouded with concern ⦠she could only try. The crescent driveway directed her to the imposing porch at the front of the house.
âDon't worry about our bags now, we can see to them later,' Tenille suggested. She began to mount the broad steps that rose to the wide veranda. It was a laborious process. She had to balance on her crutches as she stepped up with her right foot, once stable, she brought her cast leg and crutches up to it. Just as she reached the top, Mrs. Fenech opened the door. It was solid, of carved timber, but the etched sidelights allowed observation of callers.
âTennie, my poor darling,' her mother cried dramatically, as she rushed forward to embrace her daughter. She was unprepared for the cumbersomeness of someone holding onto crutches, with a foot stuck in the air. Tenille almost overbalanced with the impact of her mother's weight and wobbled, perilously. âCome in Lovey. Come and rest,' Doris fussed.
âMom.' Tenille turned towards Sidonie: âI'd like to introduce my friend, Sidonie Henderson.' She turned back to her mother. âShe very kindly took time off work to bring me here.' She wanted her mother to feel somewhat indebted to Sid. Perhaps suspend her critical judgements, before she hardened her opinion against her, which deep down she feared she could.
Sidonie stepped forward promptly to shake hands, hoping to exude a feeling of respect and good will. âHi Mrs. Fenech. Pleased to meet you,' she said in affable salutation. Doris gave a slight jerk backwards, as if she'd stepped into a cobweb.
âOh, yes,' she acknowledged. âHow do you do.' She dropped Sidonie's hand quickly and turned back to her daughter.
âCome along girls, you must be tired. I'll make us all a nice cup of tea.' She put her hand out to Tenille. âCan you manage, Tennie?'
âYes Mom, I'm fine. Watch me.' She hopped forward briskly to the threshold. There she stopped and, because of her anxiety over this first meeting, became flustered and put her crutches up first and almost overbalanced backwards as she tried to jump.
âSteady Ten.' Sidonie rushed forward to save her from falling. âStep your right foot forward,' she reminded her.
âYes, of course, silly me. I know that's the way to do it,' a hasty reply, trying to cover her embarrassment. Doris felt helpless and displaced as she watched her daughter being guided by this person she found rather unusual. Not the type her Tennie normally chummed with. She viewed her as being a bit rough. Working class. Those shorts. Startlingly blue eyes though.
“Well, at least she smells clean,
“ she granted grudgingly. She didn't enjoy being placed in a secondary role, especially where her daughter was concerned.
Tenille led the way to the living room and settled herself into an over-stuffed chesterfield and patted the cushion beside her for Sidonie. Sitting down, her glances were busy taking in everything: an array of antiques, strategically placed about the room: an ornate display cabinet, holding a large collection of art glass of the Art Nouveau period: Art Deco figurines. She'd never owned any, but she'd always found those graceful naiads captivating. There was even strip lighting, showing off the colors to best advantage.
“Hell's teeth. No wonder she's got that special air about her. She's cultured.”
thought Sidonie, as her gaze swung back to this woman she loved above all else. Mrs. Fenech's voice intruded.
âWould Earl Grey suit you, Sidonie?' she was enquiring.
âEr..r, would it be possible to have a coffee?' Sidonie asked, hesitantly. âI don't mind instant.' As an after thought, she added, âI don't want to make work for you,' since Doris continued to regard her as if from a great distance.
Tenille dove in. âYes Mom, just regular coffees would be fine for us.' âWe didn't stop on the way,' she added lamely, in unnecessary justification. âWhere's Betsy? I thought she'd be at the door.'
âI put her out, knowing you'd be on crutches Tennie, but I'll let her in now that you're settled. I didn't want to risk her making you fall.' Doris rose on these words and caught an exchange of looks between the two women. She now felt even more uncomfortable; a state of being with which she was not familiar, especially in her own home. Her world had been ordered and predictable for so long. Very little ever disturbed the even tenor of her days. However, in the space of fifteen minutes she had been made to feel decidedly at odds with herself.
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