Make Room for Love

Chapter 26

26

Mira sighed as she read the email in her office. The union election was scheduled in less than two months—that had been the big news this week. Everything was coming to a head. But the university was going to fight them at every turn.

They were announcing pay raises for all the grad students. It might have been welcome news in some other context, but it was a transparent attempt at weakening support for the union. The increase wasn’t nearly enough, and it wouldn’t kick in until the next year. There was nothing about health insurance or parental leave or any of the other things they’d been fighting for. And, of course, it could be taken away at any time. Without a real seat at the table, they were entirely at the administration’s mercy.

Mira put her elbows on her desk and her head in her hands. The winter break had been so idyllic. She’d spent nearly every waking moment of it with Isabel, mostly in bed, and the memories had warmed her as she’d headed to work in the freezing cold and slush all week. And Isabel was taking her on a date again tonight. Having that to look forward to was making the day a little more bearable.

But she was still fully back in the grind of work, whether she liked it or not. And the crushing fact bore down on her: If they didn’t win the election to force the university to recognize the union, they’d lose everything they’d worked for.

The benevolent tone of the announcement was infuriating. Mira was still fuming when her office door opened and Shreya entered. “Do you have a second?” she asked. Mira nodded. “Come walk with me.”

Mira got up. “Is this about the announcement?”

“Not just that.”

They walked in the direction of the lounge. Shreya said, “You know that Leila has to step down as area captain for the Classics department soon.” Mira nodded. Leila was headed to North Africa for her research. “So, we want you to replace her.”

“What? Me?”

“Yes, I’m talking to you.”

A sense of dread came over Mira. They were in really dire straits if Shreya was asking her . “Why not Ifeoma or David? Or anyone else, for that matter.”

“Ifeoma’s too busy trying to finish her dissertation. And I’m already asking David to fill in for me on the international students’ working group.”

“Really? You’re not?—”

“Yeah, I’m too busy with my visa issues, ironically.” Shreya’s problems with her student visa had plagued her on and off for years. She had reluctantly set up a crowdfunding link a few months ago for her thousands of dollars in legal expenses, and dozens of other grad students in the union who were equally broke had chipped in, but there was no end in sight. “I’ll tell you about it later. Anyway, you’ve been part of the union for years and you’ve been canvassing regularly, and you know what’s going on.”

“Um,” Mira said. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Is something preventing you, or you just think you’re not capable?” Shreya had a way of getting to the point. She was a perfect VP, efficient and ruthless. Mira didn’t have that in her.

“Both. I’m not sure if I can keep up with it, for one thing.” She was under enough stress already. “What would I have to do? I know about leading trainings, but I don’t even know all the things Leila was doing.”

“It’ll probably be about ten or fifteen hours of work a week until the election. You’d run trainings, and they’ll become more frequent closer to the election when more people want to help get out the vote. You’d be updating the database and tracking down the people we haven’t talked to or are still on the fence. Oh, and, obviously, you’d be on the executive committee, which will be fun for you.” Shreya’s tone implied the opposite. “We meet every Tuesday night in addition to the Thursday meetings.”

Mira nodded to show she was listening. “There’s something else, too,” Shreya added. “We think what the administration is doing might be considered an unfair labor practice, which is illegal.”

“Wait, really?”

“They’re giving us a suspiciously timed pay raise, and claiming in their official communications that there’s no money in the budget for anything else regardless of whether we unionize. Which isn’t true, but it’s going to hurt us in the election. We’re talking to our lawyer about it. What it comes down to is that we might file a complaint to get the administration to stop their tactics, but it’ll delay the election.”

“For how long?”

“We don’t know. It could be until next semester. Or even later.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“Well, it’s not going to be good if we go ahead with the election, and we lose because the administration convinces everyone that the union won’t do anything to help them.” That much was true. “Anyway, we’re going to discuss it in the committee and make a decision. Just so you know what we’re up against.”

“Uh, I don’t know.” Mira sighed. “Okay, I could make time for this. But I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know if I’m qualified.”

“Maybe not, but you’re the best person in the department who’s currently available, according to Leila. You’ll learn as you do it, which is what we all did.” Mira remained silent. Shreya continued, “You know, there’s no perfect candidate who’s going to appear out of nowhere. Someone in the Classics department is going to have to do it. It might as well be you.”

“Wow, thanks, Shreya. That’s really encouraging.”

“I’m not saying this to discourage you. You know the only way this is going to happen is if we put in the work ourselves.”

Mira couldn’t argue with that. We are the union , Isabel had once said, and Mira had learned over the last few months what this really meant. There was no one but them to do the work of organizing thousands of grad students and winning the election. If Mira didn’t do her rounds every week, talking to people at every opportunity, the work wouldn’t get done. Last semester, week by week, she’d helped add to the ever-increasing count of union cards. And now she had to do whatever it took to win.

Maybe she couldn’t wait around for someone else to do it. But her life would be so much easier if she could. Talking to her coworkers was one thing, but being in charge was another. “What if someone else runs?”

“They’re not going to if you decide you want to do it. We’ll vote next week, and it’ll be you.”

Shreya’s pragmatism was oddly reassuring. Mira wasn’t being inflated beyond her actual abilities. If Shreya truly thought she couldn’t do it, she wouldn’t have asked. “Can you give me some time to think about it?”

“Let me know by Monday,” Shreya said. “Look, you’re not bad at listening and talking to people, and I know you care about this. Don’t sell yourself short, okay?”

“I don’t know,” Mira said, for what was probably the hundredth time tonight. “I know Shreya’s right, that one of us is going to have to do it. I just don’t want to let anyone down. It’s frightening to have that kind of responsibility.”

Isabel’s thumbs dug into a particularly tense muscle between Mira’s shoulder blades. She exhaled and relaxed into the touch. It had been a good night: an early movie, a leisurely dinner at their neighborhood Greek restaurant, a quiet walk home through gentle flurries of snow. The warm, shimmery pleasure of being taken on a good date. A break from thinking about the hard things for a few hours.

“What are you afraid of?” Isabel asked.

Nestled between Isabel’s thighs on the couch as Isabel massaged her back, Mira was warm and safe. The harshness of the world outside, and all that she was up against, seemed far away. She could get some distance from her anxieties, at least for the time being. “I guess I’m afraid of being in situations where I won’t know what to do and people are relying on me. Like if someone asks me questions during a training or runs into a difficult situation and needs help. I don’t trust myself to know what I’m doing. I don’t see why other people should trust me.”

“How many grad students do you think you’ve talked to since the beginning of the year?”

“Um, several dozen? About a hundred, probably.” It was hard to believe the number was that high. But Mira had met all the first-years in the Classics department that she’d been too jaded to talk to before, and she’d made connections with other grad students in biology and music and architecture that she never would have otherwise, and she’d even rebuilt a few friendships she’d let lapse since she started dating Dylan. It wasn’t only the individual relationships, either. Mira was part of something bigger than herself.

But that didn’t mean she was qualified to lead anyone. “There’s a lot more to being the area captain than just talking to people, though. I have to make decisions about what to focus on and how to deal with problems, and I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Well, that’s my point.” Isabel’s thumbs worked out another knot in Mira’s back. It was painful and good. She really needed to fix her posture instead of hunching over her laptop all day. “You know all these people, and you know what they want. It means you can represent them and do what’s in their best interests. That’s what leadership means. It’s mostly about listening, and you’re good at that.”

“Maybe you’re right. Good enough, anyway. Well, I don’t know if it’s enough.” Mira sighed. “Do you think I should do it?”

Isabel made a noncommittal sound. Her hands moved lower. Mira groaned, from Isabel’s fingers digging into her tense muscles as much as from frustration. “Don’t go all strong and silent on me now.”

“I think you can do it. Whether you decide to do it is up to you.”

“I knew you were going to say that.”

“You still asked.” Isabel kissed her on the crown of her head, then pushed her thumbs in hard. Mira whimpered. Taking some more stretch breaks wouldn’t kill her. Isabel stroked her back, soothing her. “Too much?”

“No. Keep going.”

It wasn’t as easy as simply deciding to do it. But a sense of pride was swelling within her. Before this year, she’d rarely thought of herself as someone who could use her power to push back against the world, to act for herself and for others instead of merely surviving. It made a difference that hundreds of other people were working alongside her now, including people she didn’t know.

Of course she was scared. But four months ago, she’d been afraid to have a conversation with a stranger. She had come a long way, and there was so much more to do, and she owed something not only to herself but to her coworkers, too. And if just one other trans girl at this institution could escape having to rely on a partner’s whims for her housing and healthcare, it would have been worth it to Mira.

“You know, I’m going to tell Shreya yes before I lose my nerve,” she said. “I was planning to think about it all day tomorrow. But there’s no reason to overthink it.”

“That’s good.” Isabel put her hands on Mira’s shoulders and kissed the back of her neck. “Relax with me this weekend. And when you go to work on Monday, you can fight like hell.”

“That’s the other thing. It’s going to take up a lot of time. And I’ll have to figure out how to manage my time better.” Shreya was probably underestimating how much time Mira’s new responsibilities would take. Shreya was the most organized person Mira had ever known, and Mira’s organizational skills were middling at best—if she were an old, tweedy male professor, people would call her absentminded. “But I’ll get a break after the election is over. And I’ll keep part of my weekends free so I can spend them with you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Isabel said, as Mira got off the couch and grabbed her phone to text Shreya. “I’m proud of you.”

Mira sent the text. “I did it.” She took a deep breath. “Thanks, Isabel. That means a lot to me.”

Isabel smiled. She seemed uncharacteristically shy. “That reminds me. I have a present for you.”

She got up and returned with a bundle the size of a manila envelope, wrapped neatly in plain brown paper—clearly the work of her own hands. Mira unwrapped it carefully, and something pink and silky tumbled out.

Mira held it up. It was a lacy slip, in absolutely sumptuous pink silk the same color as her pajamas, cool and soft in her hands and nearly iridescent. She laughed in delight. Isabel knew what Mira liked, and she knew what she herself liked, too, when it came to what Mira wore. The slip was going to be luxurious to sleep in and to wear under her dresses. And, of course, Isabel had…first-hand knowledge of her proportions.

Mira rarely bought nice things for herself. But she knew a nice thing when she saw one, having endured two years of living with Dylan. This was nice . She didn’t even want to imagine how much it must have cost.

But she didn’t feel smothered by this gift. She felt…cherished. Isabel knew her tastes, and the slip was both sexy and practical. Mira wasn’t just a dress-up doll to her. Isabel had been thankfully low-key about money so far, letting Mira split the check more often than not. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be spoiled every once in a while.

“It’s more of a present for me,” Isabel said. She was so flustered Mira could barely believe it. Isabel was hot when she was stoic, but she was so, so hot when she wasn’t. “If you don’t like it?—”

“Isabel, I love it,” Mira said. She was wildly turned on, and she could think of some other things to do that would feel luxurious. She was loosened up and warm from her back rub, and emboldened after she’d texted Shreya. Now she was ready to pounce. “It’s not just a present for you. The things you’re going to do to me while I’m wearing it are all for me.”

Isabel’s eyes widened. But she recovered quickly. “Like what?”

“Will you get your strap?”

Isabel’s smile was impossibly suave, and her blush was adorable. “Be right back.”