Make Room for Love

Chapter 3

3

“I don’t know if you all saw the bad news in the group chat,” Mira said. “In case any of you missed it, our speaker from the teachers’ union canceled at the last minute, too. So, um, we don’t have any external speakers booked right now.”

Someone on the video call booed. He was clearly booing the speaker, not Mira, but she was still struck by guilt. “Sorry, everyone. I know this puts us in a bad spot.”

The kickoff rally for the union had to go well. Over a third of the graduate student body had RSVP’d, and local news would be there. This was their chance to win over hundreds of their fellow grad students at once, and Mira was in danger of screwing it up.

“It’s not your fault,” Shreya, the vice president, said. Other people nodded in their rectangles on Mira’s laptop screen.

Mira rubbed her tired eyes. It had been a long day, and it wasn’t over. Her work usually followed her home. After this meeting, she had plenty of papers to grade, sitting in tall piles on the dining table next to her.

“Maybe one of us could give another speech after Shreya talks,” someone else said.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” Mira said. “We want everyone at the rally to understand that we grad students are part of the broader labor movement. I think that’s important for getting people on board, to recognize that we’re not just students, we’re workers, and we deserve rights and protections like other workers do. So we need speakers who do other types of work.”

Shreya said, “Mira’s right. So what are we going to do?”

Mira grimaced. “I’m not sure. Um, I guess I’ll ask our speakers who canceled if they know anyone who’d be willing to step in. And maybe we could all reach out to whatever contacts we have?”

Her despair was mounting, and it wasn’t only about the rally speakers. When she’d been with Dylan, her life had increasingly revolved around him until she’d had nothing left for herself. She’d stopped attending union meetings, stopped seeing her friends, stopped being able to imagine any other life.

If the grad students had unionized years ago, things might have been different. She wouldn’t have been broke when Dylan had asked her to move in. She would have had options. In a different, better world, there was a Mira who wasn’t hurt and struggling to claw her way out of a hole.

She had to take her life back. She had to prove that she was still committed to the union. But both the speakers she’d booked had canceled three days before the rally. Maybe it wasn’t her fault—but she needed to accomplish something , and now even this simple task was slipping out of her grasp.

They compiled a list of people to contact. At some point, Isabel came home later than usual in her grimy work clothes. She went to the bathroom to shower, returned to her room in a bathrobe, and shut the door loudly enough to startle Mira. It was the third time Mira had seen her in two weeks.

The chances of finding last-minute speakers were not good. Mira let out a long sigh after she disconnected. She still hadn’t eaten dinner, and her students’ papers loomed.

Her phone buzzed. It was a reply from her father. I have plenty of contacts in the teachers’ union in Chicago, but not in New York, I’m afraid. Your mother is reporting on fisherpeople in Alaska with spotty cell service for the next month. Followed by an article about the farmers’ protests in India. Thoughts??

Mira smiled for a moment. It had been worth a try. She stood up, stretched, and yawned.

Isabel opened her bedroom door. “Mira.”

Mira jumped. “Yeah?”

Isabel was scowling. Her hair was wet from her shower, and her shoulders, bare in a white tank top, were impressively muscled. She was as well-sculpted and cold as a statue. “Can you stop taking your calls in the living room?”

Mira froze. She’d done something wrong. “Sorry.” The word came automatically. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“It’s louder than you think. If you really need to do it, do it in your room and keep it down.” Isabel glared at Mira’s papers on the table. “And it’d be great if you could stop leaving your hair clips and clothes and papers all over the place.”

“I’m really sorry.” Mira was forgetful when stressed, and she knew it was a bad habit—taking up too much space—but this had been the worst, most stressful month of her life. “I didn’t mean to. I’ll try not to anymore.”

Isabel gave her a hard look, then turned away. The conversation was over. She started closing the door.

Maybe this was Mira’s fault as always. But after the day she’d had, this particular indignity made her snap. Isabel clearly never wanted a roommate, but she didn’t have to remind Mira of it like this. “I didn’t know it would bother you so much.” Isabel turned back around, and Mira knew she ought to shut up, but she couldn’t stop herself. “If you wanted a completely silent apartment all to yourself, as though I don’t live here, you could have told me.”

Surprise flickered over Isabel’s face. Then she shut the door.

Mira’s nausea rose. Why had she tried to argue back? Isabel hadn’t even responded, as though Mira were too unimportant to bother with. Maybe she was.

Just because Isabel had once done something decent for her didn’t mean she’d be nice or understanding. Mira sat down and put her face in her hands. Shame on her for expecting too much.

She didn’t have time to dwell on this. She had to live here, whether she liked it or not, and she had too much work to do.

Maybe Isabel had fucked up. After she’d gone off at Mira last night, the doubt had plagued her all day like a hangover. It had started when she’d gotten up in the morning and found Mira’s papers in one tidy pile on the table.

Mira hadn’t needed to do that. It wasn’t as though Isabel had been eating dinner, or doing much of anything besides stewing in her room.

Back at home, holed up in her room again as Mira worked in the living room, the guilt was stronger than ever. Mira was right. What the hell had she been thinking? She was a grown woman losing it at her roommate for making sounds and leaving her things out in the apartment they both lived in.

Isabel sat on the edge of her bed and groaned. She needed to apologize.

Yesterday had been awful. Her new apprentice was still in the habit of asking the men around her for a second opinion, and she’d used up most of her patience at work. Then she’d found out through her mother that Grace had set a wedding date. She and her little sister hadn’t talked in months, and apparently Grace was still angry.

She’d wanted to wallow in shame alone. Instead, she’d come home to Mira talking on a call—at a normal volume, but it had grated—and when she’d retreated to the bathroom to shower, she’d found Mira’s hair clip left next to the sink. A reminder that the apartment wasn’t private anymore. If she showed any weakness, Mira would see.

None of that was an excuse. She was an adult. She had to apologize.

She rubbed her face and exhaled. Everything had been easier when she was working seventy hours a week, racking up the overtime pay, collapsing in her bed night after night and falling into a dreamless sleep. It was torture to have so much free time, hours and hours to kill every day. The forty-hour work week had been hard-won, and Isabel wasn’t putting it to good use.

The sound of Mira typing on her laptop filtered through the door. What was Isabel going to say to her? It was an awful, too-familiar feeling: being in close quarters with someone she’d let down, shame and regret filling up every room.

After turning her apology over and over in her mind, Isabel got up and opened the door.

Mira’s head jerked up. For a moment, she looked like she had after her ex had threatened her outside the club. She had looked like that last night, too. Afraid.

Yeah, Isabel had fucked up. Of course the ex would have been an asshole to Mira while she lived with him, and of course Isabel had just done the same thing. For the first time, Isabel noticed dark circles under Mira’s eyes under her fading concealer.

“Sorry,” Isabel said, the words she’d prepared getting scrambled in her head. She ran a hand through her hair. “You were right. I, uh— It’s not okay for me to talk to you like that. I won’t do it again.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” Mira seemed taken aback. Isabel sighed. “Hey, if there’s anything I can do for you, just, uh, let me know.” She had to try to make it up to Mira, even if their lives had nothing to do with each other.

“Um…” Mira paused like she was actually considering the offer. “That’s okay. Thank you.”

There was no reason to beat around the bush. “You sure?”

Mira grimaced. “Well, you’re under no obligation. Sorry if this is…”

“You can say it.”

Mira now looked even more stressed, if anything. “Okay, I just thought I’d ask. My union is having an important rally in two days, but all our speakers canceled. Do you know anyone from your union who might be able to give a ten-minute speech? I know it’s a lot to ask.”

Isabel exhaled. What a relief: something doable. Her old friend Anthony was working as a staff organizer for the electricians’ union, although he was busy these days with his newborn daughter. Then there was Steve, the journeyman who’d taught her all about labor solidarity back when she was an apprentice, though he’d retired and probably wouldn’t come all the way from Jersey. Still, it was worth a try. “Sure, I know some guys I could ask.”

Mira’s face brightened. “Really? Thank you so much. I appreciate it.”

“I’ll try, but no guarantees. Also, uh, about what I said earlier. You don’t have to worry about it. Talk wherever you want and leave things where you want. It’s your apartment.”

Mira frowned. “If it bothers you…”

“It’s fine.”

“Well, if something does bother you, I’d like to know.”

Isabel shrugged. “Maybe use headphones when you’re on a call in the living room. Don’t worry about everything else I said.”

“I can do that. Sorry.” Mira still looked skeptical. “Are you sure? Because I don’t want to do anything to bother you again.”

She didn’t want Isabel to snap at her again. Trying to make Mira feel better with an unrelated favor wasn’t going to be enough, and Isabel should have realized that. “Sorry. I… To be honest, I’m not used to having anyone else around. I’ve been living alone for half a year.”

“I can understand that.” Mira’s smile was strained.

Isabel winced. Admitting all this was like pulling teeth. “I’m not making excuses. I’m saying, I might be bothered in the future. Just by not being alone in the apartment anymore. And that’s not your problem, and I’ll deal with it myself. Or, uh, I’ll talk to you about it without blowing up at you.”

“Okay. Thank you for saying that.” Mira hesitated. “Are we okay now?”

“That’s up to you.”

Mira gave her another smile, sweet and warm. And pretty, too, but Isabel had no business thinking that. “Okay,” Mira said. “I think so. We’re okay.”

That could have been a lot worse. “Uh, I’ll talk to those guys I mentioned. Have a good night.” Time for Isabel to quit while she was ahead. She went back into her room.

Her friend Anthony was busy. So was Steve, though it had been good to hear about his grandkids and the old cars he was fixing up. So were the few other people she had asked as a long shot.

At least she’d tried. Hopefully Mira would appreciate that.

She found Mira at the table surrounded by piles of papers again. She was wearing reading glasses, chunky frames perched on her elegant nose. Isabel nearly stopped short. She hadn’t known Mira wore those.

Now was not the fucking time. She broke the news to Mira. “Oh,” Mira said. “Well, thanks anyway. I appreciate you asking.”

“Did you find anyone else?”

“Sort of.”

“Yeah?”

Mira clearly hadn’t expected Isabel to keep asking questions. “Well, a grad student organizer from NYU agreed to give a speech, which is at least something. I’m not sure anyone else would agree to fill in, at this point, since it’s tomorrow. I guess we’ll just have to go with what we have.”

Mira’s disappointment made Isabel ache. She didn’t want to let Mira down, not after getting her hopes up. “How important is it to find someone else?”

Mira still seemed suspicious of Isabel’s interest, but she started to explain. “I want everyone to understand that it’s not just about us,” she continued, “and not even just about grad students everywhere, but about every working person. And that we, as grad students, are going to show up for the dining hall workers and the adjuncts because we’re all in this together. But…I don’t know. Maybe that was too ambitious and it doesn’t matter.”

Mira was so sincere. So hopeful. It had been a long time since Isabel was hopeful about anything. “I’ll do it,” she blurted out.

“What do you mean?”

That had been stupid. Isabel had never given a speech in her life. “I figured… I’ve been an electrician for a decade. And I salted a shop a few years ago, so I know what it’s like to be organizing people. Never mind. You probably want someone else.”

“No, I didn’t mean… Sorry. I mean, that’s kind of you to offer, but you don’t have to.”

Isabel shrugged. “I can. If you want a regular person.” Mira was frowning. Probably trying to figure out whether she’d really be stuck with Isabel for something that mattered this much to her. “Hopefully you find someone else. I just figured… As a last resort.”

“Well, of course we want a regular person. I think people would love to hear from you. What you said about being a salt sounds fascinating. So you got hired at a non-union shop, and then you convinced your coworkers to unionize?”

“Pretty much.” What Isabel remembered about it wasn’t their victory. It was that she never got to tell her older sister about it.

Isabel had locked up her memories from that unspeakably awful year. She could pick out a few of them for this speech. But maybe she shouldn’t have offered in the first place.

“Wow. Are you really okay with it?” Mira might have sensed her discomfort. But Isabel wasn’t going to explain.

There was no backing out now. She couldn’t let Mira down. “Yeah.”

Mira’s frown turned into a hesitant smile, which became less hesitant as she realized Isabel was serious. “Thank you so much.” Once again, that smile was radiant. Something dangerous stirred in Isabel’s chest. “You don’t know how much this helps. Are you going to have enough time to prepare? I know it’s on short notice.”

Time was something Isabel had far too much of, these days. “Yeah, that’s not a problem.”