CHAPTER 13

Tenille awoke to the jangling of the telephone and looked across at her clock. So early on Monday morning. Mrs. Sandrelli didn’t usually get calls at this time. Following these musings there was a brief knock at the door.

‘Tenille. Can you take the phone, or should I take a message?’ Serafina’s voice came clearly through the particleboard.

‘Who is it, Mrs. Sandrelli?’ she called out, sitting up and reaching for her robe.

‘Thea Phillips. She says she can call back.’

‘No, it’s okay. Ask her to hold please. I’ll be right there.’ Tenille’s voice was breathless as she tried to hurry, getting herself organized with the crutches.

‘Damn things,’ she complained, truly out of breath by the time she finally made it to the phone.

‘Hi Thea. Sorry to keep you waiting,’ she apologized, speculation rife.

‘No, I’m sorry,’ Thea amended. ‘I’m only ‘phoning so early ‘cause I wanted to catch you before you might go out, or Sid was there.’

‘Oh.’ she exclaimed, quite taken aback. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘No … no nothing like that. I just wondered if it would be all right with you if I arranged a surprise party?’

‘A surprise party?’ she queried, completely surprised herself.

‘Yes. It’s Sid’s birthday, Saturday.’

Tenille was stricken. They’d never gotten around to discussing birthdays. ‘Thea, it would have been dreadful had I missed this. Thank goodness you phoned. How old will she be?’

‘Nineteen.’ She paused. ‘Now I’m not wanting to take over your lives, you understand me. It’s just that’s the day of your move and I thought you might be too tired to do much about it,’ she explained.

‘Yes you’re right. I think you have a great idea too. Tell me, does she like surprises like this?’

‘She does indeed.’ Although Tenille couldn’t see her, Thea was nodding her head emphatically. ‘She’ll find any excuse for a party. Well, since this is okay with you, what I need you to do is somehow arrange it that you go out Saturday night for dinner, or whatever. Then tell her you have to pick up something from me. Do you think you could swing it?’ She knew she was asking a lot. ‘Sid’s not an easy person to manage, but you could probably cajole her if anyone can.’

‘Mm..m. Don’t know,’ she was dubious. ‘I’ll give it the old college try. I should be able to come up with something; I don’t want to be the one to ruin the surprise, do I?’ She thought some more. ‘I’ll not be able to get her to dress up. She just might want to stay in her old duds.’

‘Don’t worry about that, everyone’ll be casual anyway. It’s so hot these nights,’ Thea reassured her.

‘What time do you want us to show up?’

‘Definitely not before nine.’ Thea was adamant. ‘I’ll try to get the women here by about eight to eight-thirty, but you know lesbian time … usually running half an hour behind.’ She gave a little chuckle, then continued. ‘This is really okay with you, Ten?’

‘Yes, cool. I love the idea and if Sid is going to be happy over it, it will be a great night,’ she responded effusively.

Reassured, Thea asked if she could help in any way with the move.

‘Thanks Thea. I’m really quite organized.’ She hesitated a beat then continued. ‘I would like to ask a favor of you, though.’

‘Name it and claim it.’

‘Well … I need to get out to shop for Sid’s gift and card. I’ve been depending on her for mobility, but this time of course, I can’t.’ She hated to impose, but she could see no other solution to her dilemma.

‘Yes, I understand. That’s no problem.’ Ready to tackle any situation head on, Thea moved right in to the logistics. ‘What time will Sid be by tomorrow?’

‘We’ve not made a plan, but she tends to get over here by about two.’

‘Great,’ Thea, was pleased. ‘That’ll give us lots of time. I’ll arrange for a half workday tomorrow and we’ll shop in the morning. I’ll pick you up about nine, get you back say twelveish. Ca marche?’

‘Wonderful. You’re such a good friend.’ Tenille was relieved.

‘Cool. Well, that’s settled.’ She was about to hang up when she realized she didn’t know the address. Tenille told her and they said their goodbyes.

Returning to her room, Tenille’s thoughts prowled restlessly over what she could choose for Sidonie. It would have to be something special. It couldn’t be expensive, but something tailor-made. She would have to think hard.

*   *   *

‘Yes, it’s still showing,’ Sidonie called out to Tenille who was finishing up the last dishes and hopping along the counter as she wiped up.

‘You put your foot down just then, I saw you.’ She accompanied her reprimand with a stern look and wagging finger.

‘Only lightly on my toe,’ she defended herself hastily.

‘You’re still NWB, so lightly on the toe’s not on.’ She’d not give in.

‘Oh, that reminds me – my next Doctor’s appointment is Thursday. They’re going to change the cast and bring my foot up a bit.’ She returned from the kitchen and lowered herself into the easy chair, putting her leg up on the bed..

‘Well, you don’t want to ruin the healing process, do you?’ she admonished.

‘No, I don’t,’ she agreed, ‘but when I feel so good in myself, it’s hard to have to go slowly,’ the complaint accompanied by a grimace.

‘I know, Sunbeam, but these things take time. You just can’t hurry them. Anyway, going to the movies will take your mind off all of that.’ She looked at her with that easy grin and she noticed how it lifted one corner of her mouth.

Sidonie had been stretched out on the bed and was checking the current movie listings in the local paper. Showered and changed into a fresh white T-shirt parading the Blue Jays logo, she had teamed it with her favorite khaki aggie-baggies and thick white socks with desert boots, making her legs look strong and muscular. Tenille liked what she saw, her face showing it in her eyes.

SALMOMBERRIES was still on, but at the Crest, not the Uptown. Sidonie was going to take them to the four o’clock screening. The pungent aroma of Viennese beans filled the air and they were enjoying a light lunch. She had stopped on her way over to buy fresh rolls and Tenille had made a large pasta salad. It was fun, going off for the afternoon with dinner to follow. A little after three o’clock, Tenille appeared all set to go crutches in place, her light summer purse slung crosswise. She had selected a sleeveless linen top with a tailored collar in pale rust. The shorts were also tailored linen, but in a pale beige.

‘That’s it, Sid I’m ready,’ she announced.

‘Good,’ she jumped up and bounded over to her side. ‘A kiss before we face the world,’ she demanded. She turned her head and Sid’s eyes zeroed in on a mouth, offered with trusting eagerness, as she closed her eyes.

The weather was hot, hazy and humid, with a slight musty odor in the air. They had sweaters for the theatre knowing how fierce the air conditioning could be. Although arriving in good time, a crowd had already gathered, waiting for the doors to open. Tickets in hand, they made their way to the coffee lounge to order chilled, strawberry milk shakes and with satisfaction they looked about, studying posters of the forthcoming attractions. One particular movie caught their eye: a new screening of the old western classic THE SEARCHERS. Apparently the quality of the acetate had been restored to its original condition, presenting as clear a picture now as it had all those years ago. This movie theatre specialized in unusual showings. It was an ‘independent’, not part of the commercial chain. It had been a sad day, Sidonie observed, when Canada agreed to the system whereby big American production studios also owned the theatres. ‘Yet again another example of how Canada has become yoked to the ‘American Way’.’ Tenille nodded. ‘Independents struggle to keep afloat, but fortunately,’ she added positively, ‘there are enough discerning movie buffs in Toronto to keep a few going.’

Tenille wistfully recalled her visit to the Roxy, with Ingrid and Wendy to see BLOOD WEDDING. How long ago it seemed now. She’d not thought of her dancing for a while. Sidonie, catching the look in her eyes of things unspoken, asked if there was anything wrong. ‘You look doleful,’ she observed and reached out her hand. Immediately Tenille brought herself back from that dark sea..

‘No, Honey. Not at all,’ pulling a grinning face to show that all was well.

‘Good,’ grinning too. ‘We should go buy our movie supplies,’ she suggested, collecting up their cartons to drop in the garbage bin.

‘Movie supplies.’ she asked, taken by surprise. ‘What supplies do we need?’

‘Well …’ stopping in her tracks: ‘Hot buttered popcorn: maybe a candy bar: usually a coke, but we had the milk shake first. What do you like?’

Tenille joined her, laughing. ‘I don’t take in anything. I thought that was just for kids.’

She stared horrified, bright specks of pale green floating in azure depths. ‘Just for kids. This is part of the movie viewing ritual. You at least have to have popcorn,’ she stated emphatically.

‘All right, all right. I’ll have popcorn,’ she conceded, her smile pure sunshine.

They settled into their seats, Sidonie liking to be fairly near the back, but not the last row itself; too much action off screen for her liking. Once the lights dimmed she reached out her hand. They sat close, to enjoy the unfolding of this unusual tale. As the movie proceeded there were the odd bursts of embarrassed laughter as people watched the two women together. As far as Sidonie could observe however, no one walked out. Not like when she’d been to see DESERT HEARTS. Of course, that had been the first of the lesbian movies for popular consumption with intense ‘hype’ preceding it. Why people should have been so indignant she couldn’t fathom. She’d just been a young teenager when she saw it for the first time. As she recalled the sex scenes had shown nothing below the waist, but they’d been talked up as being explicit. Most of what people thought about the sex must have been in their head, she reckoned.

Once more in the light of day, she asked Tenille her opinion of the movie. They were at the intersection, waiting for the lights. She was slow to answer as she looked about at the people swirling past, hurrying along in the rush of life.

‘I’m not sure,’ she demurred. ‘I liked the beginning, not the end. I wanted more for the young character, I guess.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ she agreed. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen a lesbian movie yet where the ending was: ‘and they lived happily ever after.’ Perhaps GREEN FRIED TOMATOES, she thought, but there the women’s relationship was not acknowledged. Oh, she shouldn’t forget BOUND. It was after seeing that, she’d gotten her tattoo. ‘Quick Ten, let’s establish ourselves.’

They walked up to the car, parked only a short distance away. She revved up. ‘Know where you want to eat?’

‘Not really. You know I’m happy to leave it up to you.’

‘OK Babe. I’ve heard from Skye that Rogues, at St. Clair and Yonge is really good. How about I drive down and we check it out?’

‘Sounds good to me. After all that emotional turmoil we’ve watched, I think we deserve a satisfying meal.’

‘You got it,’ she assured her, as she eased out into the traffic. Right at the lights, they headed south on Yonge. Progress was slow; too many people going downtown for the evening. Parking at St. Clair would be a nightmare. She decided to pay the price for a public park. Easy access and proximity would be well worth the cost. Tenille noticed they were not far from Devon’s apartment block.

Neither had been to Rogues before and it was better than Skye had described. Although busy, they’d received prompt attention and now sat nursing drinks, not minding the wait. When it came time to order, Tenille selected from the seafood section, her fancy taken by the offering of Saumon Frit à la Japonaise. The salmon steaks were deep fried in fresh breadcrumbs and garnished with hajikami, the menu explaining these to be pickled ginger sprouts. The accompanying vegetable was a baked potato drizzled in Mayonnaise aux Ciboules; a scallion mayonnaise concocted on the premises using Dijon mustard.

Sidonie’s taste was more plebeian. She took a long time to get herself through the menu, but eventually settled on Carré d’agneau Persille. She liked rack of lamb and the Tomates Grilles à la Provençale featured garlic and rosemary. Secretly she hoped they wouldn’t destroy her breath, but they were two of her most favorite seasonings.

The ambiance of Rogues was very much to their liking. Soft pastel colors at the blue end of the spectrum: chrome rails and chairs; pictures of theatre stars from the thirties and forties in black frames on the walls. Indirect lighting enhanced the air of sophistication, but individual table candles kept the atmosphere intimate.

An interesting ethnic mix of diners surrounded them. Whether Chinese, Hungarian or whatever, it seemed all enjoyed French cuisine. Sidonie loved this aspect of Toronto; its diverse cultures made for a fascinating diffusion. Not only was this reflected in the variety of restaurants, but also in the building styles, such as Mosques and Temples. Not least of her pleasures was the strength of the gay community here. She didn’t think she would like to live anywhere else, but then, she’d never tried. Be that as it may, she loved who she was and where she was; right now she would not change places with anyone, even if paid.

But for being on crutches, Tenille believed she had never experienced a more perfect day. Loving with every beat of her heart; being at Sidonie’s side; delight was etched into her face and her cup brimmed over.

Sidonie deposited her safely back at the apartment, but wouldn’t come in. ‘You know I’ll only want to stay and I can’t do that.’

She leaned into Sidonie, feeling the soft warmth of her mouth on hers. She began to caress the back of her neck, running her hand through the short strands at the nape, loving to feel the silky fineness through her fingers. Sidonie pulled away to go through the ritual of collecting the crutches and helping her out. Opening the door for her she heard Mrs. Sandrelli calling out. ‘Is that you, Cara?’

Tenille turned and said quickly, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you for a wonderful day,’ just as Mrs. Sandrelli appeared.

‘Allo Sidonie,’ she greeted with a warm smile. ‘Cara,’ attention turned to Tenille: ‘Your Mama phoned. Can you call her tonight? She suggested that so you can make the most of the cheaper rates.’

She groaned inwardly. Now what? This must be because she’d left Lindsay without seeing her. Hadn’t called since she’d gotten back. An uneasy feeling tugged at her conscience.

‘Will you be all right, Ten?’ Sidonie enquired anxiously, in an under tone. ‘I can wait,’ she added.

‘No. No Sid. It’s okay.’ Her reply was more curt than she’d intended, but already the prospect of facing up to her mother was beginning to unnerve her. Turning to Mrs. Sandrelli she thanked her for the message.

‘Good night,’ said one.

‘See you,’ said the other.

Tenille’s heart raced as she dialled. She didn’t want this conversation. She sighed; it still had to be lived through. How to end a perfect day. Not. She listened to the dial tone. It would be great if her father answered, but she knew he wouldn’t. He’d know it was she and leave the call to Doris.

‘Hello,’ came her mother’s voice in a remote, imperious tone. She was obviously not prepared to impart friendliness.

‘Hi Mom. Sorry I didn’t call you sooner. How are you?’

Doris didn’t bother to answer this, but dove right to the point. ‘This situation is not acceptable, Tenille. Your father said you would call and here it is Tuesday night. What is going on?’

‘I’m moving out of Mrs. Sandrelli’s to a very nice house just north of St. Clair at Oakwood. I’m renting the whole of the first floor. It’s an older style, with a good-sized garden in a very respectable …’

‘I’m not interested in that,’ her mother snapped. ‘Are you with that creature?’ Her anger was rising rapidly as they faced off, already with division and disappointment between them.

‘Mom, her name is Sidonie, as you well know. There’s no point in making this a contentious call,’ she declared in exasperation. ‘You know what I am,’ she said defiantly. ‘You know with whom I wish to live. Let’s not argue over this. Dad thought it best that I leave and give you time to adjust to the situation and ….’

‘Oh, your father.’ Doris interrupted dismissively. ‘He’s always indulged you, since you were little. You have no thought for my feelings.’ She was beginning to whine. ‘How could you do this to me? After all I’ve done for you?’ Why did she have to be saddled with such a daughter she thought resentfully. One consolation was that it was all happening far away and not here on her doorstep. ‘You’re not a … a … one of those.’ She couldn’t bring herself to say the word. ‘You’ve been married.’

‘The biggest mistake of my life,’ she stated bitterly. ‘And yes, I am,’ she finally admitted. ‘Mom, the word is Lesbian, and it’s only a word, not a sentence.’

‘It’s disgusting.’ Her loathing was palpable. In a rising register she continued. ‘It’s unnatural and horrible. Don’t expect me to visit you. I want nothing of that depraved life style.’

Tenille could feel her face flushing at the stinging words and at her own suppressed anger. Never had she thought she would hear her mother speak to her in such a way. What she and Sidonie felt for each other was beautiful and wonderful. Her mother’s words were polluting their love. She felt contaminated, just by listening to them, wanting to stop her ears, but she couldn’t hang up: this was her mother talking.

‘Your father and I have brought you up to respect and uphold the traditional family values.’ Doris was well and truly launched, determined to have her say. ‘We did our best to develop in you a high moral character as befits a devoted God-fearing Christian, always teaching by example where we could. Whatever influence we had over you has now been completely undermined in a few short months by that … that … No wonder I hate her.’ she spat out vituperatively. Tenille was speechless. What could she say to this? Her mother was being completely irrational. She felt the blood leaving her face.

‘Your father and I have lost the daughter we knew. Now you are going to join those weird people who have no sense of right and wrong; dress in outlandish clothes and are probably spaced out on drugs most of the time. Oh yes, I know about them, we’ve seen them on TV.’

‘Mom …’ in despair she stumbled on. Her mother just didn’t understand and she could feel the whole fabric of their relationship tearing apart.

But Doris would not be stopped. ‘I’ve seen how they get bashed and beaten up. Women and men. Society hates them.’ Her voice shook perilously, her throat too tight from an excess of righteous indignation. Despite everything Tenille knew she was experiencing unmitigated hurt. If only she could make her see that it wasn’t like this ghastly picture she was painting?

‘Decent folk despise them and they will you. You, my own daughter, my own flesh and blood, will become one of these damned souls, victims of their aberrant desires. Oh, it’s too much. Doris’s moral outrage overwhelmed her. She had reached her limit.

‘That’s it. You’re no more a daughter of mine. I don’t deserve this.’ Her voice, high and hysterical, was replaced by a hard-edged anger. What comfort could Tenille give whilst she was in this intractable state? She wouldn’t listen to reason. However much she may deny that she and Sidonie were not part of a bizarre, dope crazed fringe. Her ears would not hear it.

‘Well?’

Was she beginning to regret the severity of her outburst? What to say?

‘Have you nothing to say for yourself?’

Was that a note of entreaty? Perhaps the window had opened a crack.

‘Mom …’ she tried again. ‘Can you understand that Sidonie is a very special person? She means the whole world to me.’ This was marvellous. To be able at last to tell her about Sid. Everything would be all right between them. ‘Mom, we need to be together. We want to be together, just like you and dad.’

‘It’s not at all like your father and me. Don’t say that,’ Doris bit back outraged.

She was making a botch of her chance. Try again. ‘Mom. I still maintain the values you and dad taught me. I’m still the same person you raised all those years …’ She stopped. How could she find the words to explain her feelings for Sid? They overwhelmed her, herself. She would do anything to be with her; would give her life if she had to. In a state of war, she would. She couldn’t give her up and she wouldn’t be parted from her. There was nothing she wouldn’t do. Sid would never ask her to do anything that was morally indefensible either.

‘Mom, try not to take on so. This isn’t such a dreadful thing as you think.’ She spoke calmly, trying to placate her, but Doris broke in.

‘It is, it is. How can I face my friends? The people at church? Our family now has to hide this guilty secret.’ In her agitation she was dragging her hand jerkily through her permed hair. She continued: ‘You will be forcing me to tell lies, to cover up the life you’re living. Me. Telling lies.’ Her voice rose again to a shrill pitch.

‘Mom, there’s no need for that. I’m just sharing with a friend. You don’t have to go into detail,’ she proposed, trying to make her see.

Doris rushed on as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘I’d rather you’d gone on the street than this. At least that would be … normal, not … freakish.’

Tenille started to say something in retaliation, but caught herself. ‘Mother, I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. I’ll call you when I’ve got my new phone number,’ resigning herself to defeat on round one. Perhaps next time she’d have more success. ‘By then you might feel more at ease with the situation,’ she counselled.

‘Never. This is the limit.’ came back the implacable response. As far as Doris was concerned things couldn’t get any worse. Alexander was no help at all; never had been. She should have seen the weakness in him from the beginning. No, she was alone to bear these unbearable burdens. Grief clawed at her and shredded her soul.

‘Mom, I’ll call you after the move. Try to get some sleep.’

‘Sleep. Hah.’ she rejoined, caustically.

These were the last words Tenille heard as her mother slammed down the receiver.

How absolutely awful. She would be lucky to get any rest this night herself. What a cock-up she’d made of it all. Hadn’t she known from the start that no good would come of this? Now she attempted to quieten her mind. She had tried to keep her voice down so Mrs. Sandrelli would not hear, but she didn’t think she was the type to be a prying eavesdropper; she certainly hoped not. She wanted to leave this house with a better feeling than she’d left her own.

What a relief to sink down onto her bed; take the weight off her fatigued leg and the strain off her tired mind. She felt so utterly drained and exhausted. Hollowed out, but totally. What had started as a perfect day had gone completely downhill. In this miserable state she berated herself for causing her mother such distress. But she had not meant to, it was not done on purpose. The ache in her heart, as she got ready for bed brought her to her lowest ebb.

She thought of Reine and Thea. Such lovely women. They were nothing like what her mother was picturing. It was her mother’s ignorance causing the heartache. She only knew stereotypes.

Tenille stopped in her train of thought. Hadn’t she herself, been like that at one time? Probably not so bigoted, but certainly influenced by lurid stories in the tabloids. Admit it. There had even been a time when she had denied her own lesbian tendencies. Persuading herself she wasn’t like those ‘others’. No. She couldn’t really blame her mother. It would be up to her to try to help her to see behind the stereotypes, to open her eyes to the real people behind the facades. Yes. She’d come a long way herself, from the naive woman who’d arrived in Toronto, almost a year ago, to begin her life over again: independent of both parents and husband. She climbed into bed and stretched out her limbs.

It had taken her a long time to shed the blinkers. She was glad they had finally come off; however, more through the agency of her heart than intellectual endeavor. If she’d not been given the push by her own emotions, could she not still be mouthing the opinions of the uninformed?

She rolled over onto her side, checking the time. She hoped the night would be a dove and not a hawk. It was getting very late, but still the thoughts continued to roll around, her mind buzzing from this latest encounter. These reflections chastened her and struck a resonant chord. She remembered Reine telling her about Thea’s work at the Youth Centre. Perhaps she, too, could do something to help the youngsters? Young people confronted by parental intolerance, and worse, psychological or physical violence. She knew she couldn’t counsel, but she might be able to fulfil some other kind of support role. When she finally dropped off, she felt more positive. She would do something to help and she didn’t mind in what capacity. She and Thea would talk.

*   *   *

True to her word, Thea was ringing the doorbell at nine sharp. Tenille had told Mrs. Sandrelli she’d be coming by, so when she opened the door she beamed at Thea, saying: ‘You must be Thea, Tenille is expecting you. Go straight through to the stairs. Her door is at the bottom.’ Serafina turned, indicating the way to go. Thea thanked her and moved through, the rustle of floral draperies with the accompanying waft of perfume providing quite a heady experience to Serafina’s senses.

She knocked lightly and hearing Tenille’s invitation went in. She was just collecting last minute items. Going out with Thea she had decided to wear a dress. It seemed to her that she’d been living her life in shorts. The dress was a shirtwaister in pastel yellow with white trim to the collar and cuffs, a white belt at the middle. Her white leather casual didn’t look too bad with the cast either; her inevitable shoulder purse; the two crutches and she was ready.

They set off happily and with the worst of the rush hour traffic gone, progress wasn’t too slow. ‘Where do you want to shop, Ten?’

‘I thought The Bay would give me a good selection and possible inspiration. Is that okay?’

‘Sure, no problem. I’ll drop you at the escalator then park.’ Thea slowed down for two J-walkers then continued. ‘There’s public parking on Hayden so it’s just a short distance up to Bloor, if you don’t mind waiting?’

‘Of course not. I really appreciate your helping me like this,’ she smiled. Thea waived her hand. ‘I’m going to use this trip to choose something for Sid from us, too. So you see we’ll both make good use of our time.’

She dropped her off, then made a loop round to the parking lot. She didn’t enter the shopping complex through the Subway concourse, but stayed above ground to join Tenille at the corner of Bloor and Yonge. They proceeded slowly since pedestrians made no allowances for someone on crutches. Hopping onto the escalator was hazardous too. Thea stood in back, making sure Tenille didn’t fall at the top.

‘What are you looking for?’ she asked, as they entered the store.

‘I’m not sure, perhaps something in silver?’

‘A bracelet or a ring?’ she supplied. Tenille didn’t reply, giving all her attention to the business of hopping off the escalator. She decided not to use her crutches, her balance on one leg being pretty good. She made it … but only just.

‘I think I’ll take the elevator next time,’ she declared. ‘My nerves don’t need this added stimulation.’ She returned her crutches under each arm.

Now that she was getting about more she was beginning to appreciate the skill of those, destined to live with crutches all their life. “My hat off to them.” she praised. It was a tiring ordeal.

They headed for the jewelry section; so many beautiful things on display but too much for her limited budget to contemplate. The exercise was a disappointment; the items didn’t have that distinctive appeal she’d admired at art and craft shows. She knew what she had in mind. It wasn’t here.

Wandering through each department, they looked about for inspiration. As luck would have it, they stumbled onto the men’s section where their olfactory senses were assailed by the aromatic fragrances. This brought vividly to mind their night at the Guesthouse, and experiencing a thrilling frisson made her face burn.

‘Stop here Thea,’ she ordered: ‘I’ll see if something appeals.’ She had forgotten the name, but she remembered how much she’d liked it.

‘Yes.’ Thea took in the sights and smells. ‘Sid likes men’s cologne. I’ve never smelt a woman’s perfume on her. The men’s suits her better anyway, I think.’ They sprayed testers onto the cardboard samplers and eventually Tenille came upon ‘Aramis’.

‘This is it. Smell this,’ she instructed. Thea dutifully applied her nose to the card.

‘Heavens Ten, I’ve smelt so many now, I’m not sure,’ she had to confess. ‘No matter. It’s a lovely fragrance.’

‘I’ll settle for this one,’ she decided. The price was a shock, having no idea that men’s toiletries would be so expensive.

‘Does it have to be something for his body, Madam?’ the sales assistant enquired. Momentarily taken aback by the question, since she’d not been thinking about a man, she began to stutter. The young woman cut through her incoherence and pointed out that, if the gentleman would like to use it on his face, then they had ‘Aramis’ in the aftershave.

‘What is the difference between the two?’ asked Thea.

‘The cologne will last for eight hours, the aftershave for about four.’ The woman was trying to be helpful, but Thea had actually meant the price, so she added: ‘And how much is the aftershave?’ Although less expensive, it was still pretty steep. She looked at Tenille.

‘I’ll take the other one,’ she told the sales clerk. It wouldn’t break her bank and she really loved the fragrance.

‘Do you want it gift-wrapped, Madam?’ Tenille hesitated. ‘It’s a free service offered by The Bay,’ she clarified.

‘Er..r, yes please.’

They stood and watched as the young woman deftly folded the paper and made attractive streamers from the ends of the foil ribbon.

‘Very nice.’ Tenille thanked her as she paid, then turned to Thea. ‘That’s me, now what about you?’

‘Reine and I want to give her a fun gift. Let’s pop down to the kitchen department. They have a variety of books on ethnic cooking,’ she told her, making their way across to the elevators. ‘We know she likes Thai food. This is to give her the hint that the kitchen isn’t an altogether alien territory.’

‘I like it,’ Tenille laughed.

Taking the elevator was half the hassle the escalator had been. Everyone stepped politely back to give her easy egress. Thea chose her book without difficulty. There was no offer of free gift-wrapping here.

Close by was stationary. They bee-lined for greeting cards, browsing through until something suitable popped. Tenille picked a glossy card featuring a bouquet of red roses lying next to two, half filled champagne glasses. The bubbles sparkled in the bright lights. The words inside were simple ones of love. Thea’s card was a humorous, rude one. The picture on the front showed a cartoon rooster lounging before the TV, signs of eating and drinking all around. Inside the caption read …

THE YEARS HAVE REALLY BEEN KIND TO YOU …

IT’S THE WEEKENDS THAT DID YOU IN …

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANYWAY,

They both chuckled, knowing Sid would get a charge out of it. Proceeding towards the exit, they passed ladies’ lingerie and brightly colored silk underpants, boxer style, caught Tenille’s eye.

‘Oh, she’d love those. Have we a minute to take a quick peak?’ She looked hopefully at Thea.

‘Sure.’ She stepped towards the rack. ‘These are nice.’ Thea picked up a sky blue pair with a dark navy stripe down each side. The silk had been sand washed and was soft and sensuous to touch.

‘Yes.’ Tenille’s eyes were darting along, checking them all out. ‘Do you think she’d like the blue, or maybe this salmon pink with the cream stripe?’ She felt bewildered by choice.

‘Well, which one do you prefer?’ Thea asked. ‘She’d like to wear what you like too.’

‘There’s a point,’ she conceded. ‘Well … I like the salmon, but I think she may prefer the blue.’

Thea deliberated for a moment. ‘How about you buy them both, then? Or will that cost too much?’

This could be an extravagance, but she really felt these would be special for Sid. ‘No, both pairs will be just right,’ she replied.

‘Buy those then,’ she said firmly, sure Sidonie would be happy with whatever Tenille liked. The sales clerk folded them in tissue paper before she put them in the bag. Thea wondered if she would need gift wrapping things, but Tenille revealed she was a pack rat from way back with ample supplies.

‘Okay. That’s it. We can head for home,’ she declared. ‘Stay here. I’ll bring the car around.’ Once comfortably ensconced, Tenille gave effusive thanks for all her help. ‘That’s what friends are for,’ was all she said in reply. They drove in silence back to the apartment, both feeling satisfied with the morning’s outcome.

‘Do you have time for lunch, before you go to work, Thea?’ Tenille asked, as they drew up outside the house. She checked the digital clock.

‘Just a coffee. Nothing to eat though. I’m trying to loose some of this.’ She patted the rounded curve of her hip. ‘I’m eating fruit only for lunch and I have it all prepared.’

‘You can eat it here, if you want.’

Once inside, Tenille set about preparing the coffees.

‘I bet you’ll be happy to move into your new apartment, come Saturday,’ Thea commented. ‘After this basement you’ll enjoy the freedom of movement.’

‘Oh yes Thea. I can’t wait.’

‘You and Sid make a lovely couple, you know.’ Tenille smiled, well pleased. ‘It’s good to see Sid so happy with someone. Karen was never right from the start, but of course, Sid couldn’t see it.’

Karen intrigued Tenille. Sidonie never talked about her. Just the occasional mention that was all, if something came up that triggered a memory. ‘What is she like?’ She couldn’t stop from asking, although not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

‘You’ll see for yourself, come Saturday.’

‘Karen will be at the party?’ She was shocked. Would she be forced to face this woman? Talk to her?

‘Yes. You’ll find the lesbian world is a very small one. The social wedge is scattered throughout with Exes.’ She thought it prudent to change the subject. ‘Everyone will be very interested to meet you. You’re relatively new on the scene and certainly an unknown,’ she clarified.

This aspect hadn’t occurred to Tenille. However, like so many walks of life, those involved never completely lost touch. Names and faces were bound to reappear, over time.

‘Yes, Karen is currently with Mitch. I don’t know her personally, but she’s a good friend of a friend of Reine’s.’ Thea chuckled. ‘Did you follow all that?’

She nodded: ‘Sort of.’ This wasn’t true. She was too disturbed. The name Karen just kept ringing in her ears.

Thea was continuing: ‘So you see when word gets around about a party, the net draws them all in.’ She began to reminisce. ‘I remember going to a party in our early days, I was new with Reine, we weren’t an item and there were three of Reine’s Exes.’ She laughed, her mind diffracting as she looked back through the dispersed twists of remembered incidents.

‘Fortunately I was no novice, so I took them in my stride. After all, I could afford to be generous; I was about to take what they had lost.’ Admiration shone from Tenille’s eyes.

‘Yes, Reine was quite the lady-killer in her younger days,’ she mused.

‘I can believe it. Reine is still a very attractive woman. Not just her looks,’ Tenille expounded: ‘She’s got a way with her that can’t be ignored.’

‘You see it too? Well, when she was slimmer, had more youthful vitality than now, the young Femmes would flock around her, hoping her eye might alight on one of them. She still has a roving eye,’ Thea acknowledged, ‘but I know it’s only looking. It’s hard to let predation go when it’s been there all your life.’ A softness came to her eyes, behind her thick glasses, as she smiled to herself. ‘I think Reine was butch as a baby. No toddler even, was safe.’ Now she let go a full-throated laugh, hugely enjoying the memories of her lover’s antics.

She asked her question again.

‘She’s feminine, like you, but she’s not a gentle woman. There’s a toughness about her that shows. She’s had some hard knocks in her time,’ Thea surmised: ‘Less able to give now, more demanding too. No, I shouldn’t say that,’ she corrected herself. ‘I don’t really know. You’ll have to judge for yourself.’ She leaned closer. ‘One word of advice though, don’t try to make conversation with her. If she comes up to you, okay, otherwise she could cut you down quite badly.’

Tenille was astounded at the very thought. ‘I wouldn’t dream of approaching her,’ she exclaimed. Run a mile more like. ‘I wouldn’t have a clue what to say anyway.’ She finished off her coffee and clasping her hands in front of her, continued: ‘I must admit I feel nervous about this party now.’ She looked apprehensive, showing furrows of concern.

‘Don’t fret, Ten,’ Thea tried to reassure her. ‘Sid wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. Knowing her, she’ll be by your side the whole time, making it clear who you belong to. Listen, your paths probably won’t even cross, there’ll be so many people,’ she concluded. It was time for her to go and as she organized her things, Tenille made enquiries about her volunteer work and if there could be an opening.

‘Leave it with me and I’ll let you know tomorrow.’

‘Thanks, Thea. Dinner is about seven-thirty, isn’t it?’ she confirmed.

‘Yes, thereabouts.’ As she stood on the threshold Thea turned and laughed. ‘Having you guys over Thursday will really put Sid off the track. She’ll never expect to be back again Saturday.’ They parted with a quick embrace. ‘See you.’

Tenille began moving slowly about the apartment, collecting up all signs of a recent visitor, her mind busy with thoughts of tomorrow night. The idea came that she could leave something behind at the apartment. Saturday she could ask Sidonie to pop in to pick it up. It would have to be something she couldn’t do without, something convincing. Time flew and before she’d come up with any ideas, she heard Mrs. Sandrelli ushering Sidonie into the house.

‘Darn. I hope she doesn’t mention Thea. I completely forgot to give a warning,’ Tenille admonished herself. She didn’t have to worry. Sidonie wasn’t going to hang about, making small talk. No, she was knocking on the door and calling out: ‘Here’s your local friendly Limo. Service.’

*   *   *

Sidonie had driven Tenille to the O&A for her doctor’s appointment and was now idly leafing through a stack of dog-eared TIME magazines. The waiting room had seen better days. It was located in the old wing of the hospital, the new being given over to hospital services and operating rooms. The other occupants were in various stages of recovery: with or without plaster cast; in a wheelchair; on crutches or with canes, the effect being one of total disorganization. She was the most relaxed of the people waiting there, not at all anxious over Tenille. Her progress had continued along predictable lines and she seemed to be her old self. Yesterday and today her spirits had been high, perhaps because she knew the cast change was imminent. She wasn’t fatiguing at the slightest exertion, if anything, she had too much energy. She couldn’t use it up enough. Today she would ask Doctor Suli about a mild sedative. She had been having trouble sleeping because of this excess of energy.

Waiting, she let her thoughts return to a current theme occupying her mind of late. This was the possibility of a housewarming at the apartment, coinciding with her birthday perhaps? Could she be getting too old for a party? The magazine slipped to the floor. She gave up and threw it onto the pile. What about Tenille’s natal event? She should check. She’d appeared reluctant to discuss birthdays, being conscious of the age difference. Silly Sausage. Anyway, back to the housewarming. It would be a chance for her to meet all her friends and for them to get to know her. She’d neglected her buddies recently. This would make a good excuse to be back in touch. ‘Make a note,’ she said to herself: ‘Contact Ma Bell and get the phone put on.’ Calling from home, how wonderful.

At this juncture Tenille appeared, looking pleased, a nurse by her side, but only as a formality.

‘Hi.’ She jumped up. ‘Everything go OK?’ A middle aged man, next in line for attention, had looked up when Tenille appeared. He sat forward intently, watching her every move.

Sidonie, noticing his interest, smiled to herself. “Yes, Ten’s certainly a looker. Even on crutches, she can still catch people’s eyes and hold them. Especially when she smiles so radiantly. Hell’s teeth, it would be easy to put two and two together if she continues to look at me like that.” In fact the man had now turned his attention to her, probably wondering who was occasioning such a lambent glow.

‘Yes, great. The X-Rays show excellent healing so not only is my foot up, but I’ve got a rocker bar too. This means darling,’ Tenille whispered in Sidonie’s ear, ‘I can begin weight bearing as soon as the plaster is dry. Isn’t this a milestone to celebrate?’

Sidonie held the door open as she said goodbye to the nurse, then they progressed to the side exit. No hassle with the car here. On their way back to #226, she broached the subject uppermost in her mind: the housewarming. Traffic was heavy and now she was stuck behind a bus; impossible to pass with this press of cars. The downtown commotion at rush hour really was hopeless. She was moving slowly west on Wellesley, but at this rate it was going to take forever. Tenille could see her patience wearing thin, her fuming increasing.

‘Let’s circle Queen’s Park and take Haskin,’ she suggested. ‘St. George will probably be faster than Bay.’

‘OK. Anything is better than this,’ feeling her temper fraying at the edges. “Sit back and don’t sweat the small stuff,” she advised herself.

Tenille’s mind raced. Had Sidonie come up with this party idea because of her birthday on the 10th? Did she plan to move and have the party on the same day? What about Thea’s idea to give her a surprise? Perhaps she could deflect her train of thought, without deflating her enthusiasm.

‘Honey.’ Her voice broke into Sidonie’s concentration. ‘It sounds like a great idea, but … we’re not even moved yet. Don’t you think we should get ourselves settled first, then think of inviting people?’ Silence.

‘It’s only a party, Ten,’ Sidonie pointed out, screwing up her face. ‘They’ll bring the beer, we’ll provide the pretzels. As for the furniture, it’s better if there isn’t too much, leaves more room for dancing. I can’t see a problem.’ She glanced over at Tenille. If she really didn’t want a party, of course they could wait, but then it would be past her birthday. Tenille looked back at the girl, she had turned her attention to the road, so all she saw was a determined profile looking tough and serious.

This was just what she had feared; Sidonie, ready to dig in her heels. Inspiration. ‘We’ll have to clear it with Moira and Rani first, don’t you think?’ she cautioned. ‘We don’t want to start off with our new landladies rubbing them the wrong way.’

‘We’ll invite then too.’ She looked confident. If that was her problem, then no worries. She felt sure there’d be no objection; in fact they’d have a great time.

Try again. ‘How can you be so sure? We don’t know what they like,’ she argued.

‘Tenille, you are such a worrywart. Of course they’ll come. Everyone loves a party.’ She couldn’t understand her objections.

Yes. This was the girl talking who would relish her own surprise birthday party. Tenille, smiling to herself, opted for the middle course. She suggested they ask them and take it from there; then added for good measure: ‘Otherwise I think it’s a great idea.’ She heard her but didn’t respond, concentrating on some tricky manoeuvring, crossing Bloor at St. George. Even with traffic lights, one had to stay alert.

Inside Tenille’s, away from the noise and so many people, she could relax. She’d leave the subject of the party and try again when she was more receptive. It probably would be too much with the move and all. She’d been indulging a wishful fantasy.

‘Want a coffee, love?’ Ten asked solicitously, seeing she was beginning to fade. When the day starts at five and there’s no ‘catch up’, it wasn’t surprising.

‘An O.V. if you’ve got any left, Babe.’

‘Still three in the fridge.’ She opened one each and they could split the third for their refill. Sid came over to collect the beers and then set them on the night table. She took a long draught.

‘Ah, that tastes good.’ She stretched out on the bed with a deep sigh. ‘Come here.’ She put her hand out for her to join her. As she sank down, she rolled onto her side, snuggling into Sid’s neck.

‘I have to be careful of the cast since it’s not quite hardened,’ she explained. ‘I’ll just keep my leg over here.’

‘Oh yes, of course. Sorry.’

‘No apologies needed.’

She turned her face towards Ten, feeling that delicious longing rise inside as she began kissing her inviting lips. The kiss was gentle, full of savor, the ending slow and tapering. Ten began to stroke Sid’s temple and the smooth roundness of her cheek. She saw her eyelids droop then remain closed. Yes, it had been a long day and she could do with rest. She always seemed to be on the go, looking after her.

Ten adjusted her position to caress her more comfortably. Shortly she heard the slow, regular breathing of one who has completely succumbed to fatigue and sleeps. Such a dear, dear face she reflected, as she gazed at her beloved. A handsome profile. It wasn’t always possible to look as good in profile compared with full face, but hers was perfect. Was she biased? …rose colored glasses? No, she didn’t think so. No one could doubt that she had a most striking, well-proportioned countenance, no matter from which angle it was viewed.

Brilliant golden hair, falling in careless dishevelment, she looked like a Greek god. “Now could anyone resist her charms; let alone a poor maiden like me?” She smiled to herself in sardonic reflection. “My, you are whimsical sometimes, Ten.” Letting her hand fall to Sid’s shoulder, her fingers traced the muscles in her arm and forearm. It was not often she had the chance to indulge herself like this; when she could look as long as she liked, drink her fill of every detail. She brought her hand to rest on her rib cage, rising and falling with each of her breaths. She looked at her breasts but did not touch, fearing to disturb this sleeping Peri. Her gaze moved down. She enjoyed feeling the taut muscles of her stomach so flat, yet the outline softened by youth. There were no sharp angles. Her body must be at the peak of condition.

Gently, very gently, she let her hand slide down to the top of the thigh, just beyond the edge of her shorts, the skin hot to the touch. Satiny smooth. Only very fine blond hairs grew here. This was in marked contrast to the leg below the knee, where the hairs grew in greater profusion; still fine, still blonde. She liked the fact that she didn’t shave. When she stroked her legs, she was never prickled. The flesh still felt silky smooth, despite the golden down. She let her head rest on Sid’s shoulder and dropped off into a light slumber, her hand remaining neglected where it lay.

This was good for Ten. She was waking up too early, about four, then couldn’t get back to sleep. Sometimes she’d give up, turning on the light for a read, then try again later. By morning, she’d be ready to go into a deep sleep. How topsy-turvy. The relaxation pills should help. She was the first to stir, trying to change her position and the cast had clunked into her other leg. Sid didn’t move. She decided to make coffee, the smell would probably be enough to bring Sid round. Carefully she rose from the bed, then pushed herself upright on her crutches. Tomorrow she could take some weight. She checked her watch. It was almost six, time to get ready for Reine and Thea’s. With the coffee steaming on the counter, she hopped over to Sid’s side of the bed and sitting down, shook her shoulder.

‘Honey.’ She waited. No change. She leaned over and kissed her cheek. ‘Honey … it’s time to wake up.’ Eyelids fluttered and opened. She was immediate in her coming round.

‘Mm..m, I smell coffee.’ She smiled happily up at Ten and kissed her briefly, thinking there would come a time when this could be a daily occurrence. To be awakened by Ten; for her face to be the first sight to her eyes … bliss.

‘You’ll have to come and get it my love,’ she told her apologetically.

‘Of course, Babe, no trouble,’ she replied affably.

‘Do you always wake up so … so … together?’

‘Yep–err. One minute asleep, the next awake and ready to go.’ She brought over the coffee and they both enjoyed its reviving properties. ‘I know,’ she continued, ‘people envy me. I never have to go through that awful half awake stage when you want people to stay at arm’s length. Not me. It will be nice for you too,’ she added: ‘No morning grouchies.’

Ten smiled at the idea of their mornings together. ‘Sid, this is lovely but we must get organized.’ She was businesslike. ‘I’ll shower whilst you finish your coffee and then the bathroom will be all yours while I dress.’ She nodded as she sipped. Ten turned on her bedside radio in time to catch the six-thirty news. As it happened Toni Braxton was singing the Spanish version of BREATHE AGAIN.

‘Oh, I love that song.’ Sid looked up, her blue eyes shimmering with life.

‘Me too,’ affirmed Ten, ‘but I’ve not heard it in Spanish before.’ She paused where she stood, then went on excitedly. ‘When we get settled, can we buy a CD player, start a collection? I know there’s lots of other things we need too, but music is important, isn’t it?’

‘Sure we can. CD players are quite reasonable these days. It’s the discs which cost an arm and a leg. Two arms and a leg, I figure.’ They hummed along with Toni, Sid harmonizing quite pleasantly, whilst they got themselves ready. By seven o’clock, they looked ‘the beautiful couple’. Ten had selected her white muslin top and skirt, but this time chose a yellow Spanish shawl, fringed with white to tie over her right hip, the point of the shawl falling free down her left side. To complement the look, she added a long string of small amber beads.

‘As pretty as a picture,’ Sid admired gallantly, her eyes lighting up with pleasure at the sight of her woman. Tonight she carried a small beaded purse over her shoulder, containing some toiletries she guessed. She had settled for white chinos with navy espadrilles and a rather, for her, flamboyant over-shirt in the Hawaiian style. Definitely in holiday mood. Checking herself in the mirror she asked: ‘Will I do for an evening out?’ She turned towards Ten, one eyebrow raised in enquiry.

‘Do I breathe?’ was the retort.

Laughter was carefree, as they headed out the door.

*   *   *

‘Come in, it’s open,’ came the response to Sidonie’s knock.

After the beer store, they’d stopped off at the liquor store to pick up a Friexenet. Tenille hopped through as Sidonie held open the door. Thea poked her head around the kitchen divider and told them Reine was just washing up and would be out directly.

‘Here’s a bottle to help us celebrate our move. It needs chilling so I’ll pop it into the freezer but … don’t forget it.’ Sidonie moved over to the fridge as Thea said: ‘I’ll delegate that responsibility to you.’ Before Sidonie could think of a suitable comeback she jumped in with: ‘I’m making Sbaglioni for dessert.’ This stopped her dead in her tracks.

‘Oh you spoil me, Thea. My favorite. You know I only ever get to taste it here,’ she disclosed.

‘You should learn to make it yourself Sid,’ she chided. ‘It’s not hard.’

‘I know you’re right, but I can never get the eggs to go properly.’

‘What’s Sabaglioni?’ enquired Tenille, ‘I’ve never heard of it.’

Sidonie explained. ‘It’s a most delicious Italian dessert. Light and frothy; made with eggs and Marsala, a sweet Italian wine.’ Her eyes sparkled in anticipation.

‘Mm..m sounds good,’ she said eagerly.

‘The problem is you have to stand for ages beating the egg yolks and I can never get the mixture nice and smooth,’ she grumbled.

‘I should ask Mrs. Sandrelli. I bet she’d have a few tips for you,’ Tenille contributed.

‘Don’t listen to her, Ten,’ Thea advised. ‘Sid could do it. It’s just her way of getting out of it.’ She came forward to give her a big hug and got a smacking kiss back for her disparaging remarks.

‘I could tell her a thing or two that would keep you in your place, woman … but I’m too nice,’ she retorted, enjoying the banter, as she let her go.

Thea turned to Tenille. ‘Come Ten, sit yourself here …’ she indicated a high stool at the counter, ‘ …and we can talk. Fix your woman a drink,’ she charged, looking at Sidonie. ‘I don’t know what’s happened to Reine.’ Sidonie threw Tenille an inquiring look.

‘Is red wine possible?’ she turned to Thea.

‘Sure thing. We’ve got the lot. The opener’s in that drawer.’ She pointed. ‘So … how’s the move going? Ready to tear your hair out by the roots?’ Despite her bulk, Thea moved neatly between sink and cook-top as she expertly prepared her vegetables for a stirfry.

‘Everything is under control, so far. Neither of us seems to have accumulated mountains,’ replied Tenille. ‘It’s a wonderful feeling to know we’ll soon be settled in our own place.’

Sidonie observed: ‘It feels funny to have some things here and some there, though,’ as she handed Tenille her glass of wine. ‘What about you, Thea, aren’t you going to join us?’

‘Listen Honey, I’m already ahead of you.’ She picked up her half empty glass. ‘I drink Spritzers now. They help me stay the course.’ She was taking a big swallow as she caught sight of Reine.

‘Well, here she is, at last. Were you saving yourself for a grand entrance, darling?’ They all turned as Reine appeared at the kitchen archway.

‘Smart-ass,’ was all she would deign to say and turned pointedly to Tenille and Sidonie. ‘Hello my darlinks,’ and embraced them with Gallic effusiveness. ‘I’m glad to see you both looking so well. Although I must add it’s no more than I’d expect of Pumpkins your age. Wait ’til you’re mine …’ she added with heavy emphasis.

‘Come off it, Reine,’ Sidonie expostulated, amicably. ‘Just ‘cause you’re old enough to be our grandmother, doesn’t give you license to curry sympathy.’

‘You know where you can go, newt … back to the swamp.’ Reine glowered, this time turning her back on Sidonie and smiling graciously at Tenille.

‘Don’t listen to her my dear, she’s jumped up.’

‘That’s the second time tonight I’ve been told not to pay attention to Sid. She must be bad news,’ she observed, diverted.

Sidonie, smiling, approached Tenille and put her arms round her waist where she sat on the stool. She leaned into her and said in a stage whisper: ‘They know not of what they speak,’ and gave her a proprietorial squeeze.

‘OK you two,’ and Thea meant Sidonie and Reine, ‘I want you out of my kitchen. Make yourselves useful. Set the table and leave us to talk.’

‘0k–ay,’ Sidonie held up her hands in mock defeat. ‘We know when we’re not wanted …’ she turned to Reine, ‘ … don’t we good Buddy?’ They took off, leaving them to get down to some serious discussion. Thea, especially, wanted time to explain about the counselling centre. She knew she couldn’t talk business when they were all together.

‘You remember, Ten, last time you said you were interested in my work with the youth groups and that you fancied to do something along those lines?’ she reminded her.

She nodded. ‘Yes, and I still am.’

‘Good. Well, I’ve heard via the grapevine that the Counselling Centre for Lesbians and Gays is looking for a receptionist. I straight away thought of you.’

‘But I know nothing of reception work,’ Tenille protested.

‘Not a problem. You would be instructed in your duties. And anyway, you wouldn’t be doing the job alone. There’s always two on the desk,’ she clarified. ‘No, what they are looking for is a bright and reliable Lesbian. Someone with good interpersonal skills. I’d like to suggest you go for an interview. See if you like their set up too,’ she concluded. She had just added the last of the herbs to her stir fry, so she held out the spoon for Tenille to taste the sauce.

‘Mm..m delicious. What a good cook you are Thea. Can turn your hand to anything,’ she admired, deference in her voice.

‘Oh, it’s just experience, my dear. I’ve been doing it for so long.’

‘What’s with you and Reine tonight, harping on age?’ she enquired, in puzzlement. ‘Is it because of Sid’s birthday, Saturday?’

‘No, nothing like that. It’s coming up to our 23rd anniversary next week and we’ve been doing a bit of reminiscing. It’s made us realize how we are, in fact, ‘getting on’.’

‘Your 23rd,’ she exclaimed. ‘Oh how I’d love to be able to say that.’ She looked at Thea enviously.

‘Don’t wish them away, Tenille. Years pass only too quickly. Just make the most of each moment as it comes,’ she advised. ‘I know this is easier said than done.’ She sighed: ‘When you’re young, emotions can get so much in the way. Often you waste precious time in useless, even destructive argument. Reine and I have gotten passed that. I hope we can value the time we spend together.’ She stopped to look at Tenille. ‘Well, if after 23 years we still haven’t got the mix right, then we must be awfully unobservant.’

Tenille picked up her glass, remaining attentive. Thea returned to her cooking and continued, still in philosophical vein. ‘Also, as you get older, you get to know what you really like and how you like it. Consequently there’s less margin for error and, therefore, it is to be hoped … disappointment.’ She sighed again. ‘Unfortunately the trade off is, there’s less excitement too.’ She smiled wistfully at the younger woman. ‘You youngsters are probably on a roller-coaster ride of emotions.’ Tenille nodded in agreement. Thea frowned. ‘But I’m not sure I’d want that back. Maybe sometimes,’ she amended, as she transferred the veggies to a serving dish and popped them in the oven with her pork kebabs. Tenille, glimpsing the rows of skewers, felt her mouth begin to water. ‘The main thing is … enjoy as much as you can. Time never runs backwards,’ she finished, experiencing a momentary sadness, swift and fierce as a flying dart. She left, leaving Tenille wondering what that was all about? Yet more to digest when she had a quiet moment. On her return she told Tenille the places were set. ‘Choose any seat,’ she advised.

Sidonie was coming in as she emerged from the kitchen, Reine in tow, ready to collect the steaming food. Once seated, she gave Tenille’s hand a little squeeze, then observed: ‘Everything looks so good, Thea, and smells delicious.’ They tucked in with a will, thoroughly enjoying the food, the company and the easy conversation.

The hot topic was the impact of Feminism in today’s world. Sidonie was all for it, being an ardent supporter at all the rallies and marches. She recalled the heady buzz of excitement, the feeling of solidarity had given them, that day of the ‘Take Back The Night’ march. She felt the feminists had accomplished much since their early days, and definitely the lesbian contribution had been of great value.

‘I remember when the straights were so against us,’ Reine recalled. ‘Lesbian was a dirty word in those days. The women thought they were each going to fall victim to some artful lesbian wiles. As if they were worth looking at twice,’ she scoffed. ‘Our taste was far too discerning for that.’ she declared vehemently.

‘That’s all well and good,’ Thea acknowledged: ‘I agree that women today have moved further into the man’s world. My question is, at what cost?’

Tenille was enjoying this lively exchange, but needed to interject for clarification.

‘Well, think of this,’ declaimed Thea. ‘Today, women have the freedom to come and go as they please. In times gone by, the twenties and the thirties even, women were to be escorted. They were protected from assault, from harm. Today, they take not only their virginity, but in some cases, their life in their hands. And what is society’s attitude toward this?’ She looked around the table at their intent faces. It wasn’t often one heard a Lesbian criticizing the feminist movement.

‘Do they say: “It’s a disgrace that men have so little respect for women” or: “Men shouldn’t give way so easily to the dictates of their gonads”? Or do they say: “It’s the woman’s fault. Either she shouldn’t have been there or, she was asking for it.” Whichever way you look at it, it’s her fault.’ There were slow nods of agreement to this assertion.

‘But wouldn’t you rather be able to do the things you do now, Sweetie?’ Reine asked, ‘than return to the dependence of a patriarchal society.’

‘Yes, indeed I would,’ she responded with asperity. ‘But … why does a feminist society have to lose all that women had before? It’s as though men have said: “Yes, you can have equality, but don’t expect us to treat you like we did.” No more door opening: offering of seats: swearing and gross behavior must be tolerated. Men still call the shots. We’re still not looked upon as equals and, to add insult to injury, we’ve lost the respect we had as the weaker sex. I’m not sure we’re living in a better world,’ she concluded. They all continued their meal in silence for a while, pondering the debate, then a new topic was launched – about the time Melissa Etheridge and her ex-lover, Julie had created that stir in the lesbian community. Reine fetched the controversial photograph which Thea had cut out of the paper.

‘I like it,’ Tenille was positive.

‘Me too,’ Sidonie agreed. ‘In fact I think it’s very tasteful.’

‘It has successfully drawn attention to the plight of fur-bearing animals,’ Thea announced.

‘Melissa was always a strong one,’ Reine observed. ‘I for one, admire her for it.’

The evening wound up early. As they stood on the threshold saying their goodbyes, Thea reminded Tenille to give her a call regarding the interview.

‘I’ll set it up for a time that suits you, then I’ll take you over. How soon do you expect the phone?’

‘It should be some time Monday or Tuesday,’ Sidonie informed her. ‘Any last minute things you need a hand with, Sid?’ Reine enquired. ‘Ready to be of service.’

‘No thanks, Reine, we’ve everything under control … I think.’

‘We’re going to look for some bedroom furniture tomorrow and we’ll get the store to deliver,’ Tenille elaborated. She had managed to leave her purse across the back of the dining chair and fortunately, Sidonie had not remarked it’s absence.

The evening remained mild after a light summer rain and for a change, the air smelled fresh and clean; the roads glistening in the intervals of light shed by the lamps. It was a dreamy night, and after their visit, they felt in mellow mood. Good times with good friends. Hard to beat. Before Sidonie dropped Tenille off, they organized themselves for Friday. She knew of a few second hand stores along Queen Street West, fairly close to each other. She pulled up to the curb and cut the engine.

‘How did you enjoy the evening?’ she asked, putting an arm round Tenille’s shoulders. Tenille kissed the end of her nose as she told her she’d had a dreadful time. ‘What was that about an interview … are you thinking of changing jobs?’ There was a note of concern in her voice. With this new rental undertaking they couldn’t afford to risk only one income, if she lost it.

‘No Honey, relax.’ She rested her head on Sid’s shoulder. ‘Thea thinks I’d make a good receptionist at a counselling centre. She suggested I go along with her to see what it’s all about.’ She looked dubious. ‘But I don’t know if I’m cut out for that type of work. I do like the idea of volunteering to a worthwhile cause.’ She settled in a little closer. Sid was stroking her thigh over her skirt. She was wishing her hand could be underneath. Soon now, she’d have everything her heart and body desired.

‘Oh darling,’ Ten sighed, as she turned her face to her love, a slight quaver in her voice. Her imaginings had made her hot and her longing had made her weak. She was aware of Sid’s immediacy, her breathing soft, her presence strong.

‘I know, Babe,’ she murmured into her tousled tresses, as she fully embraced her. Then she kissed her hard on those red-brown lips, their bodies fusing in mutual desire. Her voice thickened as she tried to speak. She felt a dark pulse throbbing deep inside her. Suddenly she was so hot.

‘I want us to be together as much as you, darling,’ she breathed, huskily. ‘I know how hard it is to wait.’ She let her mouth work against Ten’s so her lips opened and at last her tongue tasted her. Every nerve in her body felt stretched. She let her hand rise up toward the soft, round swell of Ten’s belly, just above her thighs. As Ten felt the heat from her palm, a sweet fire ran through her veins that made her groan into her mouth. She experienced a stab of desire transmitted directly to her soft, vulnerable centre, then came the slippery wetness of her longing. How she melted for this girl. One touch and she was her slave. Incongruously she thought, where’s your pride? There was no answer.

Their passion left them breathless; helpless in the force of their attraction. Reluctantly they drew a short distance apart. Sid wanted to be all over Ten. To envelop her in her own body which had tightened with desire. To encompass her, and take her into herself. “Chop it Sid,” she protested silently. Ten is better than that. “Groping in a car, out in the street.” She pulled back, hands dropping onto the wheel her face grim, as she crushed down on her restive feelings.

‘Gotta go,’ was all she said in a tight voice, breathing raggedly.

Ten turned away too, feeling an acute sense of loss; of emptiness. A cloud seemed to have gathered about her, surrounding her in a torment there seemed no way of resolving. She felt she was going down into a spinning, free-fall and could see no end to it.

‘I’ll get your crutches,’ Sid spoke hurriedly.

‘Damn those things,’ Ten burst out fiercely. ‘I hate them.’ Sid studied her face, her gaze intuitive and direct, noting the increased color in the cheeks, but said nothing. She walked round to the curb side and helped her out by holding the door and the crutches. There was no physical contact. Keeping her voice neutral, she reminded her they were going to pick up the canes tomorrow. ‘No more crutches.’

They stood together by the side of the car, so close they could feel each other’s breath on their face, but their bodies did not touch. Sid felt a slight trembling of her hand as she closed the passenger door.

‘See you tomorrow,’ she said dully, almost stupefied, as she turned away heading for the driver’s side, but her eyes showed a fierce light.

‘Bye, Sid,’ Tenille called out, lost in the night’s shadows as she headed up the path. She had the key in the lock as Sidonie wheeled away into the darkness. For a moment she experienced a sense of timelessness. She would be forever reaching her front door as Sidonie would be driving away to be swallowed up by the night, with her thoughts plunging after her.

This was such a difficult time. The lament was forlorn. She felt so lonely; abandoned almost. How silly she was being. She made her way to her apartment hoping Mrs. Sandrelli wouldn’t appear, wanting to chat. She didn’t feel up to small talk. She remembered when she had felt this way before. Lindsay. She had persuaded Sidonie to make love to her, despite her reluctance and her mother had caught them. She was flooded with the shame of it. Too tired to do more than her teeth, being a nightly ritual, she then climbed into bed, thoughts still rushing on, in the form of questions … and questions demanded answers. Although her body was beginning to unwind her mind would not let her go. Now she and her mother were no longer speaking. She couldn’t talk to her father on his own, so in essence, was cut off from them. All she had was Sidonie and her new friends, Thea and Reine. Was this how life was going to be? Did being lesbian mean renouncing all that went before? She could blend the two couldn’t she? Kirsten was still her friend and she knew about Sidonie, but they didn’t see each other regularly. What about her dancing friends, Ingrid, Daphne and Wendy? Could she still go about with them the same if they knew? Perhaps Wendy, but she wasn’t sure about the others. She and Marissa had talked, but she probably wouldn’t want to spend time with her, not once she found out about Sidonie, hating to know she’d been successful where she’d failed.

Dancing. Tenille heaved a desolate sigh. Would she ever dance again? She pushed the sheet away from her. She wanted to go back to dance classes, respond to the heady beat of Flamenco music. She’d stopped listening to it in these past weeks. To be a part of that world again, could she? And what of Devon? She really would like to see her. They would be back now. She made a mental note to call her, give her the new address and phone number. Another thought. Could Devon and Sidonie be friends? Anxiety was suddenly sharpened. Perhaps it wasn’t so easy to blend the straight and gay worlds. Okay if you weren’t out, but then that would be like a masquerade. False pretences. It would be like playing games. Light dawned. This could be exactly what many Lesbians and Gays did. Only the strong ones proclaimed their sexual preference to the world. They put themselves up for derision and ridicule; hate even. She couldn’t do that, not being resolute enough, and felt ashamed of her weakness. Would she ever find the resilience needed to stand up and be counted? Taking the pressure off the left heel, she turned on her side, at the same time as she turned her head around to face some new realities.

“Sidonie, you are one of the strong ones,” flashed into her mind. “You go about the world bold and honest. You don’t hide what you are, people take you as they see you. Have you had bad times my darling?” she wondered. Gay bashing happens to women as well as men. Could she ever get her to talk about this stuff?

Sleep eluded her tonight, not because of her body this time, but an overactive mind that would give her no peace. She took a prescription tablet. Back in bed she let her body sink into the softness of the mattress, closing her eyes, trying some slow breathing. Another revelation. Friends. Friends become even more important in the gay world. They are the support family: solidarity with kindred spirits must make all the difference to one’s quality of life. A counselling centre could fulfil a vital need in the Community.

‘If they’ll have me I’ll do what they ask,’ she resolved solemnly. It’s not right that Society can make people suffer just because they love someone of whom they disapprove. For the most part we don’t even contribute to the population explosion. People should be grateful. She began to feel an indignation rising within her, but she knew she was not yet ready to come out of the closet. Not at work, not at dancing. She still needed the protection of stronger Lesbians. Those who could get a gay bar up and running; organize sports teams and such like. She couldn’t stand alone in her lesbianism. How she let the others down.

The pill was beginning to work at last. She could feel a heavy weight taking over her body. Then, just before sleep finally took all her thoughts away, she remembered that she had stood up to her mother. At least there she had passed the test. “And 1ook where that’s gotten you,” she considered ruefully: “No family at all.”

*  *  *

When Sidonie saw Tenille again she had been refreshed by sleep. The introspection of the night before had passed into the nether regions of her consciousness. She wore practical shorts today, light cream with a pale, olive green sleeveless top. The colors set off her honey skin and Sidonie saw how she glowed. Her wealth of shining hair was tied back in a cream scrunchie and to Sidonie she looked as gorgeous as ever, no matter how little trouble she took on her appearance, the inner beauty always shone through … and those breasts … They became more desirable by the day. “Sid,” she scolded herself as she reluctantly dragged her eyes away: “You said you wouldn’t let your thoughts, or eyes wander like that and look at you, not together five minutes and you’re at it.” She gave herself a mental shake.

The day was a scorcher; the pollution index sky high. On a day like today the elderly and those with respiratory problems would be stuck indoors. Restrictions on garden watering had been in effect for three days already and the grass was so brown, it looked dead. This afternoon Sidonie had on a little cloth fishing hat; old and battered.

‘Do you fish,’ Tenille asked, eyeing the headgear askance, as they drove along to the hospital.

‘No Honey. I don’t approve of fishing,’ Sidonie replied, as she negotiated round a temporarily, double parked, Black Diamond cab. They seemed to feel free to pull up just where and when they pleased, she grumbled. ‘I’m on the side of the fish.’ She honked her horn at a parked car, hoping to sneak out. She couldn’t accommodate it, there was too much traffic behind.

‘This sort of hat suits me better than a broad-brimmed sun hat. Yours looks good on you.’ Tenille’s hat sat in her lap; the one that was all brim and no crown.

‘My other hat’s the soft ball one, but I didn’t think you’d like to go shopping with me in that.’ Her laughter was bright and delighted.

‘So you don’t approve of fishing.’ Tenille returned to the topic. ‘My dad fishes. He loves it.’ She got a faraway look in her eyes. ‘He can spend hours up in the Kawartha’s. He likes the time alone, just himself and nature.’ She had never thought of it from the fish’s point of view. The sport had been all around her as she was growing up and she saw it only in terms of people’s recreation. Commercial fishing she never thought about at all.

‘Well …’ Sidonie began, ‘ …if you think of it, it’s like hunting, isn’t it? You have the fish, there’s the sport of hooking it, but in the end the fish loses its life.’

‘It may get away, or be thrown back.’

‘Ah yes, the one that got away. Lucky fish. But what of all the others? People no longer fish for survival like the Inuit or the North and South American Indians. The big fishing trawlers scour the seas with their huge dragnets. The fish haven’t got a hope.’ The choler in her voice was unmistakable. ‘Of course, it’s a free country,’ she conceded: ‘But I’m not about to join that club.’ She was inflexible.

‘You do eat fish, though?’ Tenille pursued.

‘I do,’ she confessed, ‘and meat too.’

‘Have you ever thought to give up being omnivorous, if you feel this way?’

‘No, I haven’t, but now that you raise the possibility, I wonder if vegetarianism isn’t the way to go. What about you? How do you feel about eating meat?’ She was intrigued at the turn this conversation had taken.

‘I have thought about it, but I’ve never done anything positive with my conclusions. I don’t know enough about dietary supplements and such like, so I’ve not taken that extra step. Put my principles into practise.’ She turned towards Sidonie as she warmed to her theme, her face radiant in its animation. ‘I don’t like the slaughtering of animals … I’m not keen on the idea of animals being raised just to end up on our plates.’

Sidonie was happy she had this degree of sensitivity toward the animal kingdom. She herself had decided on a career as a Veterinarian because she loved animals, domesticated or wild. She loved their innocence, their guilelessness and the honesty of their feelings. She believed all animals had developed on the earth to share its resources, as befitted their niche. Mankind did not have dominion over them, as the bible claimed. Tenille was speaking again.

‘I’ve been lazy, I guess,’ she let out honestly. ‘But you know, Sid, if you wanted to become vegetarian, I would too. I just need someone to get me going.’ She reached out to her hand as it held the wheel. ‘I believe you could be just that person.’ There was a bright, unmistakable twinkle in her eye.

‘What, get you going?’ she responded. ‘I’ll do that all right. Now woman, I’ve got to concentrate so stop distracting me.’ She gave her hand a brief squeeze. Just to show she’d not be intimidated, Tenille moved her hand and deliberately placed it on her bare thigh, fingertips curling against the inside flesh, softly.

‘That’s not better, that’s worse,’ she laughed outright, removing the wandering hand and placing it back on her lap.

‘Worse. Whatever do you mean?’ she teased, eyes wide and blameless.

Not far from the outpatient entrance, she was able to turn into a convenient space. The visit went smoothly and soon it was back to the car, Tenille feeling very accomplished, using two canes. The physiotherapist told her she could go onto one cane as soon as she felt able, but not to rush it. Sidonie was happy for her. As she drove west along Queen St. keeping her eyes skinned for a likely park, she suddenly swung abruptly right, having spotted one down a laneway. Determined to get it, it was right again … around the block and … bingo.

‘We’ll have to walk a little distance, Babe, but this was too good to let pass.’

‘That’s okay, Honey. Walking with canes is so different from hopping, I’m enjoying it.’

They came upon three second-hand furniture stores quite close together, two adjacent. Almost an hour passed browsing. In the last they saw something to their liking: Art Deco night tables and matching tallboy. Knocked about, the walnut veneer chipped and stained in places, but unmistakably 1930’s. Tenille felt they were a good buy for the money. Sidonie would have preferred something more modern, but humored her since she seemed so keen. As predicted, delivery was not a problem.

They picked out a TV, looking not too old, then back to the first store for their chairs and table. A wooden love seat with four plump cushions, in need of recovering, the fabric being very much the worse for wear. The table and four chairs were not a matching set, but at least they were wood. All in all, feeling pleased, they decided to celebrate and dropped themselves down at one of the many sidewalk coffee shops that had become so trendy. They selected a boulevard table and ordered two iced teas. Sidonie was tempted by a thick slice of Mississippi mud cake, but then thought better of it.

‘Oh go ahead, Sid,’ Tenille urged: ‘We’re celebrating.’

‘Talked me right into it,’ she laughed. ‘What about you, Babe?’

‘I like the look of the cherry cheesecake. That’s my weakness and today I’m ready to indulge.’

They were both so happy. The future looked bright. Nothing could go wrong. It was good to sit under the gaily-striped umbrella, watching the passing parade of Torontonians; shaded from the heat of the shimmering sun on this hot, humid afternoon. Here on Queen St. the upwardly mobile shared the same space as the winos and derelicts. Normally there was strict segregation according to affluence, but Queen St. seemed able to blur the lines; quite different from Yorkville.

They didn’t stay long. Sidonie preferred to people-watch in a gay bar, where she could really get into it with some quite fanciful speculations. Tenille was anxious to get through a final load of laundry. Now, empty glasses before them, they eyed each other questioningly. It was time. Sidonie got the check.

Having decided to be sensible and finish off their various chores speedily, as luck would have it they were caught in the worst traffic jam. Everyone was heading out of the city, keen to beat the weekly exodus to cottage country and here they were, in the middle. Each time Sidonie thought to deek down a side road, she found every man and his camper had beaten her to it. She was trying to head north on Bathurst. In an attempt to calm her nerves and avoid the risk of road-rage, she tuned into Much Music Radio, catching the dying strains of Rod Stewart’s, RHYTHM OF MY HEART.

‘Did you know?’ she asked, ‘that song has been a #1 hit twice over? The first time it came out and then when Rod brought it to life again.’

‘No, I didn’t,’ admitted Tenille, ‘but its a good song so I guess it deserves its success. How did you find that piece of trivia?’

‘Oh, just listening to the radio when I’m doing my drives, late at night,’ she threw out.

‘Can I turn this up?’ requested Tenille excitedly. The song was, SORRENTO MOON, sung and co-written by Tina Arena. They listened in silence, lost in the music and the poignancy of the words. The next offering was in complete contrast, RIGHT IN THE NIGHT by Jam and Spoon. Tenille especially enjoyed the Flamenco influence on the music and the use of castanets.

Suddenly there was movement ahead and Sidonie had to hustle to get going before she was beeped from behind. North of Bloor she took the side roads as soon as possible and they arrived back not too frazzled, although that short distance had taken them almost an hour.

‘Beer or coffee, Hon?’ Ten asked as she headed for the kitchen.

‘Neither.’

She grabbed Ten from behind, dislodging the canes and swinging her around. She was forced to lean on her for balance as Sid gripped her tightly about the waist and began kissing hungrily. When she finally released her, she could only exclaim: ‘Wow.’ looking back with enquiring eyes. ‘What brought that on?’ her full and moistened lips curved by a mischievous smile.

‘You did, you irresistible woman, you.’ She began to stroke the outside of Ten’s thighs and over her ass, her hands kneading the inviting curves, as she pressed her towards her pelvis. In her ear she said huskily: ‘I want you so badly, I ache inside, it hurts. How can I spend time with you and not grab my first opportunity when we’re alone?’ she explained, overwhelmed by a sense of desperation.

Ten’s voice was thick. ‘I know.’ She leaned her body against Sid, feeling her heart pounding in her chest and losing the breath in her lungs. Her own arms were around her neck, her hands caressing the back of her head, the spot behind her ear too irresistible, she had to kiss it. This led her to give little licks with the tip of her tongue to Sid’s now very red and swollen earlobe. She nipped quickly with her teeth.

‘Hey, hold on there.’ She pulled her head away. ‘You carry on like that and you won’t get the laundry done.’

‘What laundry?’ she mumbled, continuing like one with a mission, to move around to her neck and on up to the corner of her mouth. Sid dislodged her arms with care and took a step back, putting distance between them, but still holding her up since balance was precarious, not because of her foot this time.

‘Why don’t you put your leg up, Babe? You’ve been on it a lot today and I’ll get us something to drink.’

She helped her over to the chair and then raised her leg onto the edge of the bed. She bent down and lightly kissed the top of her head. ‘What is it you’d like to have …?’

As Ten opened her mouth to speak she interrupted quickly with: ‘Besides that.’ This made them both break into helpless laughter, reducing the sexual tension and restoring their former ease. Beer, with a dash of lime juice was a fave at the moment. Sid sat beside her leg and idly played with the toes, protruding from the cast.

‘You know, I remember when these looked like little red sausages; hot and puffy. Now look, she ordered. They sat, contemplating the toes in all seriousness.

‘I guess things do get better, gradually,’ Ten finished on a sigh.

‘Of course they do, Babe. You just have to be patient.’

‘I know you’re right Sid, but sometimes it gets very hard.’ She sipped her drink. ‘Last night I was wondering if I’d ever get back to dancing.’

‘Of course you will,’ she butted in, hastening to reassure her.

‘Oh Sid, it’s not that easy, darling,’ she cautioned. ‘I was also thinking about the girls too. I’ve not seen them since the accident. Dancing was my whole life then.’ She looked so dejected; Sid’s heart went out to her.

‘You’ll dance again, Ten,’ she said firmly, her voice ringing with conviction. ‘You love it and it means so much, you’ll get back to it, of that I’m sure.’ She put down her glass and moved over to the side of her chair to hunker down and imprison her hand in hers.

‘When you love something that much,’ and she thought of hers: ‘You’ll find a way, when the time comes.’ She had no realization then, how she would look back on these words; this time of love between them and their positive joy in being together. How she would need to draw on her inner resources to find the courage to carry on.

Now she continued seriously: ‘It’s best not to look into the future. Just take it one day at a time, like I said.’ She laughed at herself and through her laughter bubbled out: ‘I sound like an AA meeting.’ She sobered down, still smiling: ‘Get well, get healed, get fit.’

In one lithe movement, she rose to her feet and walked over to replenish their glasses. Her back to Ten, busy at the bottles, she threw over her shoulder: ‘Why don’t you invite your dancing friends to our house-warming?’ Ten looked up, startled. “I guess she’s really set on this party, then,” she thought.

‘Well it’s obvious you miss them.’ Sid had misconstrued the look. ‘Here’s the perfect excuse to be back in touch. That’s what I’ll be doing with my friends, if we decide to go ahead with it,’ she added hastily, remembering they’d not made a decision yet. ‘And I want them to meet you, too.’ She returned with the drinks and despite her trying not to look too eager, there was no mistaking the gleam of excitement in her eye.

‘But Honey, my friends are straight,’ Tenille protested as she accepted her glass.

‘So what. There’re lots of straight people have gay friends.’ She returned to her perch on the bedside.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ doubts continued to beset her.

‘Listen Babe, it’s the risk you take.’ She took a long draught then set her glass down, giving of her full attention. She held her free hand. ‘If they don’t like it they can leave. That way you’ll know they weren’t for you in the first place. If they stay … you know they like you for who you are and your sexual preference won’t make any difference.’ She sat back, her air candid. ‘You might as well find out now, as later. It’s no fun living a subterfuge, that’s just wearing on the spirit.’ She wrinkled her brow in that way she had when she was earnest. ‘Trying to keep up with the stories you tell and watching your tongue that it doesn’t slip; what sort of friendship is that?’ she challenged, rather ferociously, Ten thought.

‘Okay, okay, I’ll think about it. Give me some time,’ she pleaded. She needed to get her jumbled thoughts in order. She had spent the previous night thinking all this through, now Sid had brought up a different perspective. Perhaps her approach would be the better way. She wanted to keep her dancing friends and she didn’t want to risk loosing them. But if the price of friendship was living a lie, well … she didn’t want that either. She needed to draw strength from outside herself, but there was no one she could turn to. She knew where Sid was coming from, perhaps she should settle for that and join her. Wait now, there was Devon. Yes, she would call her next week.

‘You must go get your sleep, Honey,’ she looked concerned as she stroked Sid’s face and noticed the dark shadows forming under her eyes. ‘Tomorrow’s our big day, then you’ll never have to leave me again, when you go to bed.’ The thought brought a gentle smile to her face.

Sid nodded in agreement as she said: ‘Yes, one last sleep.’

They leaned forward ’til their heads touched, remaining thus as the impact of the changes that were about to affect their lives, hit them. Sid pulled away. ‘I’ll be over as soon as I can,’ she promised. ‘I’ll take the last of my gear to the house, then come straight here for you.’ One more kiss, a brief goodbye and she was gone.

Each now would be about her business; the tasks separate, but the goal shared. They were getting ready to set up their apartment together. The all-important task of laying the foundation of their joint lives was about to begin.