Page 63 of Make Room for Love

The idea was surprisingly painful. But that was reality. And Mira would always have these memories: the dates, the laughter, the astonishingly good sex, the cold winter nights where they’d kept each other warm. Isabel had raised the bar so high for her. Vivian would be proud.

Or…

No.She couldn’t think about it.

With Isabel, it was too easy to forget why Mira had needed guardrails in the first place. Things were good. Not just the dates and the sex and the hours they spent talking, but everything else, too—learning to share space, working through the few tiny road bumps they’d hit, even cleaning the bathroom and going to the laundromat. Mira would never admit it aloud, but this was exactly what she’d once dreamed of, in her less cynical days, when she’d imagined moving in with someone.

She’d dreamed of more, too. Building a life with someone she loved. Being a wife, a mother. Those longings had been locked up tight, squeezed into the smallest, most hidden places in her heart. But she couldn’t deny they were there, even if all her decisions might be easier if they weren’t.

The truth was that dreams could become nightmares in an instant. A strange anxiety set in: What if she wasn’t being anxious enough?

She blinked. And picked out a toilet bowl cleaner and put it in the cart. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Isabel said nothing. Maybe she was also relieved to move on. Mira said, “I thought about what we could do next weekend. Assuming I’m not too busy with my new area captain responsibilities. Can I take you to see a play?”

A different shadow fell over Isabel’s face. “I want to, but… Did I mention that next Friday is Chinese New Year’s Eve? I’ll be staying with my parents overnight.”

Isabel had not mentioned that. Probably on purpose. Her casualness was clearly false. “You’re going to see Grace?”

Isabel sighed. “I asked if we could talk on Saturday morning after we have dinner with our parents, and she said yes.”

“Oh, that’s great,” Mira said, but Isabel didn’t look relieved. “How are you feeling about it?”

“I don’t know.” Isabel was closing herself off, which made Mira nervous. “I’m going to apologize. I just don’t know if I cando it in a way where she’ll actually forgive me. I know it’s bigger than just her fiancé. Kevin.” She seemed reluctant to say his name. “Never mind. I can’t do anything about it until I see her. Anyway, we could do something on Saturday night or Sunday.”

Isabel wasn’t getting off the hook that easily. “Do you want to talk more about seeing your family?” If Isabel didn’t want to, Mira was at least going to make her say so.

“No.” Isabel still didn’t look at her. “Maybe later. Just not now.”

“Well, I’ll be here,” Mira said. Isabel could be so sweet and open, and it was easy to forget how much pain she was hiding until Mira ran up against the jagged boundaries of what she refused to talk about.

There was more Mira didn’t know about Isabel—and she realized, with unease, that she didn’t know how vast and deep those unknown parts were. “You’ll tell me what happens after you talk to her, right?”

“Of course.” Isabel’s mouth turned into a flat line.

“I’m proud of you,” Mira said. Isabel scoffed, as though Mira couldn’t possibly be serious. “I mean it.” Maybe someday, Isabel would let this particular wall down, but all Mira could do was wait.

28

Isabel stoodat 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. Shetook 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.”

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