Make Room for Love

Chapter 28

28

Isabel stood at the front door of her parents’ house, decorated with red banners, and took a deep breath. She was their oldest child, and she had obligations. She could do this. She rang the doorbell.

Her mom opened the door, wearing a red sweater, and they exchanged New Year’s greetings and hugged in the doorway. Isabel had been taller than her mom ever since her teenage growth spurt, but now her mom seemed older and smaller than ever. “You’re not so skinny anymore,” her mom said. “That’s good. Your job is so hard on you. Do you still have to work on weekends?”

Isabel’s parents had never understood why on earth she’d become an electrician. They thought that it was far too dangerous for a woman, that she was always one accident away from certain death. Her parents’ parents had been garment workers, restaurant cooks, home attendants. Her po po had worked hard to send her daughter, Isabel’s mom, to college. Isabel knew why her parents wanted her to sit at a desk doing a job she hated. But it was her life.

“No, not anymore,” Isabel said. She had never explained to them, either, that working overtime had been her choice. She took off her boots and put on the house slippers that her parents kept around for her in the entryway. “Here’s the fish you asked for. Where’s Dad?”

“He’s upstairs with your po po. Grace and Kevin are arriving later for dinner. You can put that in the fridge for now.” Apparently Grace wasn’t excited to spend extra time with Isabel, which was both understandable and a relief. Her mom updated her on household news as they headed to the kitchen.

Here, Isabel could be useful. She filled dumplings while her mom rolled out wrappers, chopped and blanched the pork belly, and cut ginger into batons under her mom’s instruction, trying to memorize every step. Her parents wouldn’t be around forever.

More than that, she was realizing again that she had a future in front of her. Most of her life, if she was lucky. This wasn’t the reckless optimism she’d had in her early twenties, when she’d thought she and everyone she loved were invincible. This was a cautious hope after her last two years of despair. She wanted to cook for her own family, if she ever got to have one.

She knew who she wanted to start a family with. But it was dangerous to think so far ahead.

She filled their big stockpot with water and brought it to the stove so her mom wouldn’t have to wrestle with it. As they waited for the water to boil for the poached chicken, Isabel started washing dishes. Her mom said, “Grace says you two are going to talk tomorrow morning.”

“That’s right.” Grace lived nearby, and she talked to their parents more often these days than Isabel did. That was another thing that Isabel felt guilty about, but it wasn’t easy to move when her work was in the five boroughs. And her argument with Grace was hurting their parents, too. Yet another source of guilt. “I’ll apologize to her.”

“You know, you two are the only daughters I have left.” It wasn’t as though Isabel didn’t think about that every day, but hearing it from her mom was excruciating. “I hope you two can get along for dinner. Your dad and your po po and I hate to see you like this.”

“I know.”

“Your dad and I know that Kevin isn’t like James.” James had been the platonic ideal of a son-in-law. He was working as a surgeon in Seattle now, but he kept in touch often with Isabel’s parents. “But we’ve talked to Kevin, and he’s very nice, and he makes Grace happy. You know your dad and I have let you all make your own choices.”

That was true. Isabel had never shaken off the sense that she had asked too much of her parents in letting her live her life, as a butch lesbian and a construction worker. They had been slightly frosty to Reina at first, although they’d come to like her. They’d been disappointed when Isabel reported that it was over. But the fact remained that when Alexa had become a doctor and married a man she’d met in medical school, their parents’ approval had never been in question.

There was nothing else to be said about Grace for now. And something was weighing on Isabel. “I wanted to tell you something. I’m seeing someone new.”

Her mom smiled. Isabel had told herself it didn’t matter, so her own relief surprised her. “Oh, is she Chinese?” her mom asked. “What’s her name? How long has it been?”

“Uh, she’s Indian. Her name is Mira, and she’s a Ph.D.student.” Isabel told her the prestigious university where Mira did her research, and then realized she was still seeking her mom’s approval. “I met her a few months ago.” It might be too hard to explain that they already lived together.

“Oh, that’s nice. So she’s going to become a professor?”

“If she can get a job. She’s really smart.”

“That’s good. You’re taking good care of her?”

If Isabel were dating a man, her mom would have asked her if her boyfriend was taking good care of her , but Isabel didn’t mind. “I hope so. I try.”

“Good. Will you bring her to Grace’s wedding?”

Isabel looked away. She wasn’t going to scare Mira off by asking her to meet the family. And on the hypothetical occasion when she did meet them, Isabel would want her sister to not resent her presence, which might be too much to expect. “Maybe. It’s a little early for that.”

“If she’s important to you, you know your dad and I would like to meet her.” Isabel’s mom put a hand on her shoulder. Her parents had never outright said We accept you for being a lesbian , but this was their way of saying essentially the same thing. “Your sister, too.”

The water in the stockpot was boiling. Isabel dried her hands and put her arm around her mom. “I know. We add the ginger and scallion to the water now, right?”

They got on with poaching the chicken. Isabel’s dad entered, munching on shrimp chips, and started washing the dishes in the sink. “Can I tell your dad?” Isabel’s mom said. Without waiting for a response, she continued, “Isabel is dating someone new. A Ph.D.student. She’s going to be a professor.”

The next morning, waking up on the too-small pull-out bed—Grace and Kevin had taken the extra bedroom—Isabel’s dread was cut with optimism.

Dinner had gone as well as she could have hoped. She’d asked Grace about wedding preparations, and Grace had replied stiffly, but at least they were talking again. The food had been delicious, and it had been good to see her relatives. Kevin had a full-time job now, working at a store that sold board games. It put Isabel’s mind more at ease about her sister’s future, even though she told herself it didn’t matter what Kevin did for a living.

Everything would be fine. She and Grace would reconcile. And then she’d tell Grace about Mira, too. She had asked her parents not to last night, not wanting the best thing in her life to be tangled up in the mess she’d made with Grace. But she would fix things, and her family would be as whole as it could be. Maybe—and this was purely wishful thinking—she could even bring Mira as her date to the wedding.

She had leftovers with a big mug of tea, brought breakfast to her po po, and anxiously took a walk around the suburban block. She—and Alexa—had worked so hard to buy this house for their parents. That had to count for something.

When she returned, Grace and Kevin were eating at the kitchen table. The two of them stiffened when they saw Isabel. Fair enough. “Hey,” Isabel said, feeling like the interloper she was. She nodded neutrally at Kevin, and turned to Grace. “You want to talk soon?”

“Sure.” To Kevin, she said, “I’m going to talk to Isabel. Want to wait for me upstairs?”

They exchanged whispered words. Grace smiled. They pecked each other on the lips, and Kevin got up, taking both bowls with him.

Isabel was never going to get used to her baby sister being an engaged adult, let alone a married one. When Alexa had gotten married, that had been different. But there was no point in thinking about that now. She sat down.

Grace stared at her silently. She wasn’t going to make this easy for Isabel.

“I, uh, I’m sorry,” Isabel said, working hard to look her sister in the eye. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. That, uh—” It was humiliating to have to say it. “That I told you that Alexa wouldn’t have wanted you to marry Kevin. That was really fucked up.”

“Yeah.” Grace’s expression didn’t soften.

The silence expanded. Isabel sighed. “And I’m sorry for saying what I said about Kevin. I might have…underestimated him in the past, and I’m sorry for that. It’s good— I mean, I’m glad he has a job now. And, uh…” She tried to remember what her mom had said. “I can see he makes you happy. I think that’s what I meant, that I know Alexa would have wanted you to be happy. I just didn’t say it right.”

“You’re sorry for underestimating him?” Grace said.

Isabel winced. “I?—”

“Do you really still think it’s up to you to judge the quality of whoever I decide to marry? This is the apology you’ve been working up to?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Hot fear rose in Isabel’s chest. What had she meant? “I didn’t?—”

“You know what? Forget it. This isn’t about Kevin. If you don’t like him, fine. That’s your right. You don’t have to condescend to me and pretend you didn’t mean what you said. I’m marrying him whether you like it or not.” For a moment, Grace’s tone sounded uncannily like an echo of Isabel herself. “This isn’t really about that. Ever since Alexa—” Grace’s voice quavered. “You’ve been acting like you know what’s best for me, and you’ve been trying to do everything for everyone, like if you do enough, it’ll make up for Alexa being gone?—”

“I don’t think that.” Isabel was shaken. She’d once thought of Grace as her other best friend. But now they were both using whatever closeness they’d had to twist the knife. “Nothing I could do would make up for that. I know nothing’s going to bring her back. I don’t know why you said that.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true, and you need to hear it. Who else is going to tell you?”

Isabel looked around. “Can you be quiet? You’re going to disturb?—”

“Can you stop being the perfect daughter for one fucking second?” In the ensuing silence, even Grace seemed stunned by what she’d said. “I get it, okay? You pay for our parents’ house. You take care of them. And you want to be the perfect older sister, treating me like I’m still the same age I was when Alexa died, like I’m still barely out of college as opposed to being an adult with a job and a fiancé. And you thought you just wanted the best for me when you told me how much you looked down on my fiancé the day I told you about my engagement. The best thing that had happened to me since—” Grace wiped her eyes, but she looked defiant. “Did it ever occur to you that Kevin feels awkward around you because you treat him like he’s an annoying toddler every time he comes over? Did you ever even put in any effort? Just because he wasn’t doing what you did when you were twenty-four?—”

“That’s not what this is about. This has nothing to do with me,” Isabel said, with dawning horror that Grace had landed a hit. “I don’t care if Kevin is awkward. I care if he’s pulling his weight.” This wasn’t the path she wanted to go down, rehashing their argument from months ago, but she didn’t know how to stop. “I want him to be a good partner for you. I don’t want you to be tied down to someone who isn’t. That was what I meant.”

“A good partner?” Grace laughed humorlessly. “You would know all about that, right?”

Isabel stiffened. Pain and shame seared her. She stood up and left the kitchen without a word.

The door to her bedroom opened and the light turned on. “Oh!” Mira said. “You scared me. I didn’t know you were back. I was just looking for my reading glasses. Are you okay?”

Mira had a habit of falling asleep in bed while reading, at which point Isabel would gently take her reading glasses off her face, set them on the nightstand, and let her sleep. The tender memory only made Isabel more afraid. Maybe none of this would last.

She couldn’t bring herself either to say no or to lie. She tucked her knees closer to her head and said nothing at all.

“Oh, no,” Mira said. She sat down on the bed next to Isabel and put an arm around her.

But Mira might as well have been a mile away. What separated them was a growing chasm of fear. Isabel didn’t deserve someone so good, and Mira deserved better, and eventually Mira would find that out for herself.

Mira’s warmth seeped into her. Isabel was calming down, despite herself. “I’m so sorry, Isabel. Do you want to tell me about it?” Mira said, so unbearably good to her even now.

Isabel shook her head. “Not now,” she managed to say.

“Take all the time you need,” Mira said. Isabel’s dread returned. How much time would she have?