Sister and A Lover

The baggage claim area at the airport was full of people. Some had just flown into Austin. Others were here to pick up someone just arriving. I was in this second category. A glance at the overhead display showed me that Ivy's flight from Atlanta had landed. I hadn't seen my sister in nearly a year. Her last visit had been to attend the funeral of my wife, Milly, who had been tragically killed in an auto accident. I had high expectations that this visit would be much different.

Ivy was 30 years old, about two years younger than me. She was an attractive woman, about five feet tall, with shoulder-length brunette hair, green eyes, a big smile, and a cute figure. We cared for and looked out for each other. We had a strong sibling connection. Up until the past few years, we had been very close. It nearly broke my heart when she moved to Atlanta four years ago to pursue a career. But recently, her job had turned sour, and her relationship with her boyfriend had ended. Ivy wanted to start a new chapter, so she moved back to Austin to make that new start.

I lived in a large four-bedroom house in the hill country just west of Austin. Milly and I had it built as our dream home. We both loved that house and the wonderful life we lived in it. Then, one fateful day, that all ended. After Milly's death, I thought I shouldn't continue to live in the house, but I also couldn't bring myself to leave it. That house had so many memories, mostly good ones.

Now, I was happy that I had a place for Ivy to stay while she got back on her feet. She anticipated it wouldn't take more than a few months to find a new job and a place to live. It would be good to have her close to me again.

I looked up at the top of the escalator just as Ivy began to come down from the main concourse. I waved at her as she smiled and waved back at me. She looked beautiful. I moved through the crowd toward the escalator, arriving when she reached the bottom. Ivy leaped into my arms and gave me a big kiss. It was customary to greet close family members with a big kiss. Mom and Dad had taught us that.

"So glad you're home," I told her. "I've missed you terribly."

"I'm so happy to be home," Ivy replied radiantly.

We made our way over to the baggage carousel just as the flashing light and horn announced the arrival of the luggage from her flight.

"Those two are mine!" Ivy exclaimed as she pointed to her bags.

We were pleasantly surprised that her bags were the first ones deposited on the carousel. We grabbed them and made our way to the exit. It didn't take long to reach my car in the parking garage, and we were on the highway soon after. In less than an hour, we arrived at my home.

After Ivy put her things into a guest bedroom, we sat in the living room, each holding a cold beer. We were both dressed comfortably, suitable for a warm June day in Austin. I wore a knit sports shirt, and Ivy wore a cotton tank top. We both wore shorts and sandals.

"This place looks the same. You haven't changed it very much," Ivy said, looking around the room.

"Not yet. Maybe someday," I replied. The room held many memories of fun gatherings. On one wall were photos of couples who were special friends to Milly and me. I knew someday I would put some things away and start afresh, but not yet.

"I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here a while," Ivy said sincerely. "This means a lot to me. I hope I'm not inconveniencing you or in your way."

"It's not an inconvenience at all. Stay as long as you need. I doubt you will be in my way," I replied with a smile. I was happy for the company and happy I could help my sister.

"This place has such a great pool, and summer is just beginning," Ivy mentioned as she looked out the windows into the backyard. "I intend to do some sunbathing and swimming out there. You know I love pools."

"Yeah. I remember." I replied. "Swim, sunbathe, do whatever you like. The backyard is private, and I keep the pool clean and maintained. Remember, I also love the water."

We sat and talked about our lives and our work. Ivy told me about the job interviews she had already scheduled. She hoped that one of these companies would hire her. For now, we avoided discussing relationships or whether we were dating.

After talking for a few hours, we prepared and ate a light summer meal. Later in the evening, after the sun had gone down and it was beginning to cool off outside, we sat out on the patio by the pool, drank another cold beer, and enjoyed the view of the stars.

I was the first to turn the discussion to a topic we had been avoiding.

"Care to tell me about what happened with that guy you were living within Atlanta?" I asked. "What was his name? I don't remember. I only met him once, a couple of years ago."

"Corey," Ivy replied somewhat coldly. "His name was Corey Price. I lived with him for nearly three years, but we were never a good fit together."

"It took three years to learn you weren't a good fit?" I asked, a bit surprised.

"I was young and thought he would change his opinions about certain things." Ivy began. "My ego let me believe he would change to make me happy and stay with me. Eventually, I realized that he wasn't going to change."

"His opinions about things? What things? And why were they that important?" I pressed back.

"I'd rather not say," Ivy responded quietly. "Let's just say it was fundamentally important to me, and I guess his position was important to him. Neither of us would give in. Over time, it became a larger issue that we argued over."

Ivy paused for a moment, then decided to explain a bit more.

"A month or so ago, we had that argument again. It became a big blowout, and he stormed out to stay with a friend for a few days. At that time, my job was also giving me problems. My career had stalled, and I couldn't find a way forward in Atlanta. I decided I needed a new start in life." Ivy paused, then continued. "I hope that by relocating to Austin, I can find the career and lifestyle I seek. I'm so grateful you let me stay here to get back on my feet."

"I hope it all works well for you," I replied. "Again, you can stay as long as you like. You won't be an inconvenience."

"But I'm concerned that I'm interfering in your social life." Ivy retorted. "You are dating, aren't you? You do have a sex life, don't you?"

There was an awkward moment of silence. I finally spoke.

"I've had a few dates," I said. "But I've never brought any dates back to this house. I don't anticipate your presence here will interfere with my social life."

Since Milly died, my sex life has changed dramatically from frequent sex to almost no sex. Milly and I had been part of a swingers group, and we had enjoyed sex with many partners. However, that group only allowed married couples to participate. When Milly died, my participation ended, or at least until I was again married and had a wife who also wanted to swing. Searching for such a mate was difficult. And for now, I wasn't going to discuss that aspect of my sex life with my sister.

After another pause of silence, I again spoke.

"Although I may not have much of a sex life right now, I don't want to interfere in your love life," I told Ivy. "I hope you feel comfortable bringing your friends and dates here when you like. With your relationship with Corey over, you are also looking for someone special."

"Thank you for the support and the offer to stay here," Ivy replied. "Currently, there is no one special in my life. We shall see how things go."

"Sounds like both of us need to get laid." I quipped, to which we both chuckled a bit uncomfortably.

- - - - -

Within a week, Ivy and I had settled into our routines around the house. For the most part, we had our own life to live. I worked a usual downtown office job on weekdays from 8 to 5. In the mornings, Ivy often had job interviews or spent time getting reacquainted with Austin. Austin had changed a lot in the past four years. Ivy had reconnected with old Austin friends and was making new friends quickly.

Most afternoons, Ivy spent time sunbathing by the pool. Some evenings, we had dinner and watched TV or listened to music. On weekends, we occasionally did things together. Otherwise, we went our ways with our friends. We had no ownership of each other's lives, and everything worked well.