Page 78 of Make Room for Love
It had been a long night. When she’d found Isabel crumpled on the sidewalk surrounded by EMTs, the agony had pierced her heart through. Only her desperation had kept her calm. She’d been acting on pure instinct—needing to see for herself that Isabel was alive and conscious, needing to protect Isabel from having to face the ER alone.
Mira had been shaking during the entire ambulance ride. With the terror had come clarity. They would have to decide what they were to each other.
Mira couldn’t keep either of them waiting forever. Soon, she’d have to make up her mind.
She hadn’t made any promises last night, and Isabel hadn’t pushed her. But even saying what she’d said had taken so much out of her. She wanted so badly to believe Isabel’s apologies and promises. But maybe it was futile to ask Isabel to treat her differently, futile to ask for anything at all.
She knew what Isabel wanted from her. But Mira had reached the limits of her bravery—it didn’t extend quite farenough to cover all her fear. Isabel would have to keep waiting a while longer, if she was still willing to wait.
Mira’s thoughts were swirling into a morass of dread. The election. Their odds of winning. How she’d live with herself if they lost. Isabel by herself at home, and all the ways she could break yet another limb. Every discouraging phone call Mira had made today, portending their loss. Isabel’s words to her:She’ll never get to see how much I love you.
She needed more coffee. She left the phone-banking room and found Shreya outside. “How are you doing?” Shreya asked.
Mira shook her head. “Not great. I’ve been here since eight. And I’m supposed to stay and be a witness for the ballot-counting.” She yawned. “Isabel broke her wrist last night, and I was up late helping her.”
“Is she okay now? Is anyone helping her at home?”
Mira grimaced. “No.She told me to come in today. She’s really stubborn.” If Isabel had been just a little less insistent, Mira would have stayed home. Although, truthfully, part of her was relieved to be here. She needed a distraction, in the form of one of the most consequential, nerve-wracking events of her life.
Shreya seemed skeptical. “If you need to go home and be with her, I’ll take over your phone-banking shift and deal with the ballot-counting.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” Mira poured herself more coffee from the carafe on the table. She reached for the milk, knocked her cup over, and sent coffee flying all over the table and floor. She cursed under her breath. She was more jittery and more tired than she’d thought.
Shreya helped her clean up the mess with the napkins nearby. “You sure you don’t want to go home?”
“It’s only a few more hours.”
“Let me buy you some better coffee, at least.”
“That’s okay. I should go back.”
“Well, as the vice president, I get to tell you to leave your shift and come to the coffee shop with me.” Shreya started walking and motioned at Mira to follow.
So much for democratic leadership. They left the building. Snow was falling, whipped around by the icy wind. Mira was wearing the silk slip under her sweater dress—it had kept her warm through these bleak winter days as she’d knocked on doors and trudged home in the dark. Kept her warm even when Isabel herself hadn’t always.
Shreya said, “You know we’re not going to win or lose depending on whether you stick around tonight. No offense to your ballot-counting skills, which I’m sure are exceptional.”
“I know.” Mira knew that perfectly well. But if there was anything she could do in these final hours to improve their chances, she would do it. If she didn’t, and they lost, she’d never forgive herself. She yawned again. “There’s still time to make more calls, though. We might convince someone at the last minute.”
Over the last few weeks, the need to prove herself had slowly consumed her. It went beyond her own prospects of better pay and beyond her obligations to other people. She wanted to be vindicated.
She wanted to prove that she’d made the right choice in pushing to keep the election date. That her department was right to trust her to lead. That she was worth listening to, that her experiences mattered, that she deserved power in her own life. No abusive ex-boyfriend could tell her otherwise, no dismissive man on the committee. Not Isabel, if it came down to it.
It was too much meaning to attach to one election. Too much weight, on top of the real consequences of victory and defeat, and Mira was staggering. But she couldn’t get out from under it.
She followed Shreya into the cafe and let Shreya order lattes for them both. “With an extra shot for me, please,” Mira added. Shreya glared at her but didn’t object.
They sat down. The snow fell outside. “Look, Mira,” Shreya said, “I’m going to be honest with you.” As though Shreya ever did otherwise. “If we lose this election, it’s not going to be your fault.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because the union stands or falls based on the work we’ve all done for the last four years. That’s all done. It’s not about you.” She gave Mira a pointed look. “Don’t forget why you’re doing this.”
“Why am I doing this?” Mira asked blearily.
“We’re doing this for each other.” Of course Mira knew that, but Shreya wasn’t usually one for this kind of talk. Mira sat up and paid attention. “Look, you know how much I hate delegating things to other people. I would do everything myself if I could. The problem was that I did so much that I got elected VP, and now I’m forced to delegate everything.”
Mira snorted. No part of that was untrue. “I didn’t start out as a big-picture kind of person,” Shreya continued. “You know I care about our rights as workers and all that. But I joined at first because I just didn’t have any more time to fight the administration about my visa issues on my own. And now everyone in the union is helping me, and I’m helping all of them. Turns out having lots of people working together actually helps. Even if I’m sick of all these people by now.” Shreya rolled her eyes. It was for show—she was fonder of her coworkers than she liked to admit. “I’m taking a half-day off tomorrow no matter what. Anyway, this is all to say, go home to your girlfriend and let me take care of it.”