He saw her five days a week.

When she transferred in from Vancouver, he’d been with his girlfriend for a few years and it looked like it would be that way forever. But stuff happens. People move on. His GF moved on — to a “real” job in another state. She wrote. He wrote. They visited each other, she awkwardly showing him the bars she’d found in her new city, he taking her to their familiar haunts at her request, feeling ever more separate. He knew she knew it was inevitable. And it was.

Not reeling but feeling a bit empty and tired from the long time coming breakup, he tried to keep his focus on his job, asking for more work and ending up leading a team creating a proposal for a big client. The team included the girl from the Vancouver branch and he found himself noticing what he thought of as her subtle charms, the way her bright green eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, the slightest spray of freckles across her cheeks, the businesslike but distinctly feminine way she carried herself when they met with clients. He decided to ask her out after the proposal project was finished, about six weeks away. The decision gave him license, somehow, to secretly luxuriate in all the little ways her everyday behavior charmed him.

The proposal was finally done and the initial response was favorable. That night, the entire team went out to dinner and most of them stayed to drink.

Late in the evening, just four people besides himself, clustered in an over-sized booth in the cocktail lounge, conversation drifted, then fell into a lull.

“I think I may have met someone,” the girl from the Vancouver office finally said. “He works in Garrison’s legal. We’ve only gone out once. But he’s nice.”

The proposal was eventually accepted, which ultimately would make the company an extra 60 million so. Not too much later, he found himself in a rented tux, marvelling at the perfect dynamic of rental price vs retail price factored by changing styles that kept him from owning his own formal attire. “Just buy a good one with muted styling and ignore the fashions,” his older brother would tell him. Which sounded pretty good until you saw how it worked out on his brother.

There were maybe a hundred people in the banquet room. He found himself impressed, in spite of himself, by the appointments, and the glimmering pond beyond the tall leaded windows. He caught sight of himself in a mirror and steeled himself for the evening to come. Then, in the mirror, over his shoulder he saw the girl from Vancouver and the handsome young lawyer she been seeing. It was impossible for him not to think of the guy in just that way: the handsome young lawyer. He figured he was probably a hell of a nice guy and it made him hate the sap even more.

Not long before dinner, a flurry of activity by the entrance drew his attention. As he looked he saw male heads pivot like the heads on mechanical dolls and he followed their eyes.

The girl walking in alone was almost spectacular. Hell, she was spectacular. Long legs that tapered down to long, spiky heels, a shimmery gown that bared cream-colored shoulders, brown hair with a sunny hint of red cascading across those shoulders, and a beautiful face that seemed, even at a distance, to be strangely familiar…

Her eyes scanned the room, brightening for a moment as she made her way toward the apparent focus of her attention. Her path carried her past him — and for a moment her green eyes met his and he knew without anyone having to tell him that it was the Vancouver girl’s sister.

He wasn’t sure how it happened.

He found himself dancing with her, the sister. Her body was slim and seemed to fit against him perfectly as they danced. The song ended and he started to walk her back to the table she was sharing with her sister and her sister’s handsome young lawyer — but she said, “Wait… won’t you dance another dance with me?” Her green eyes held his but all he could see in them was the glow of short term promise and the impenetrable depth of long term mystery.

They danced almost all night and then walked along the shore of the lake under an impossibly big moon and a starry sky. Her body pressed against his side, tightly, her arm holding his own against her, as their steps seemed to rhyme effortlessly.

They found themselves in his flat, moonlight fading through the second floor window, tangled in sheets and each other, making love for what seemed like hours until, just before dawn, the phone rang. He cursed himself when he realized the volume was up, even as the oddness of a 5 am call began to register.

The girl in his bed held her fingers to his lips. At first he assumed she simply meant that he shouldn’t get up to answer the phone — an unnecessary injunction, from his point of view — but later he wondered if maybe she wasn’t shushing him so that she could hear his machine

The girl, who had been moving gently against him as his outgoing message played, stopped dead as she recognized her sister’s voice.

“I’m sorry to call so late,” the girl from Vancouver said after she identified herself, a bit awkwardly. “I know I’ve never called you like this before but I wanted to talk.”

Talking, he thought, was not an option.

“I guess you’re not there. I’ll call you at the office, later… or something,” said the hesitant voice on the machine, even as its owner’s beautiful young sister rolled off him onto her back and pulled the sheets up over her naked body.

He followed her gaze up to the ceiling but all he saw was ceiling.

Internet Archive page for this recording

April 8, 2006 version
Jan 15, 2006 version

I Slept with Your Sister

I slept with your sister
cause I couldn’t have you
She was younger she was prettier
and she wanted me too

we rolled and we tumbled
all night long
and then the phone rang
just before dawn
It was you on the line
from the phone downstairs
maybe you were lonely
maybe you were scared
and maybe I’ll never know
why you were there

I slept with your sister
’cause I couldn’t have you
she was younger she was prettier
but it didn’t ring true

we rolled and we tumbled
all night long
and when the phone rang
just before dawn

It was you on the line
from the phone downstairs
maybe you were lonely
maybe you were scared
and maybe I’ll never know
why you were there

2003-08-21
(C)2003, TK Major