Page 8 of Make Room for Love

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 hadgrated—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.” Shehad 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.”