Page 6 of Freeing Ruby

I follow her down the hall, careful not to get too close. She stops at the first door on the left. “This is my bedroom.”

I peek inside a small, darkened room. I can barely make out a full-size bed and a couple of nightstands holding lamps. There’s a window along the back wall, but it’s covered by heavy, dark curtains. I spot a dresser with a mirror opposite the bed, and there’s a closet door beside it. Pretty bare bones.

She shows me the bathroom next, which is located directly across the hall from her bedroom. Like the rest of the apartment, it’s small and outdated—pink tiled walls, a white porcelain toilet and bathtub, and a gold-framed mirror that hangs over the white vanity and sink. The only thing on the counter is a toothbrush holder with one toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. There’s no window, of course, as it’s an interior room.

The last room is on the left. It’s her art studio. A large window lets in plenty of light. There are several bookcases filled with tubes and bottles of paint, books, jars filled with paintbrushes, and stacks of small blank canvases. There are probably twenty small paintings hanging on the walls, scattered throughout the room.

There’s an old wooden table placed in front of the window. There’s a small painting of a little white dog propped on an easel on the table top. Several jars of water and pots of paint are arranged to the right of the painting in progress.

She points to the table. “This is where I work.”

“Edward told me you’re an artist.”

She nods. “I paint miniature custom portraits, mostly people’s pets and children. I also paint people’s houses.”

I walk further into the room to get a better look at the little painting in progress. It’s a little white dog wearing a pink collar studded with rhinestones. There’s a color photo of an identical dog clipped to the easel. The likeness between the photo and her painting is uncanny. “Wow. You’re really good.”

She gives me a half-smile. “Thanks.”

I have a lot of questions for her about her business, but those can wait. I just got here, and I don’t want to overwhelm her.

“So, that’s it,” she says with a sigh. “That’s my apartment, other than the linen closet across the hall.”

She looks up to meet my gaze. Since she’s barefoot, and I’m six feet tall and wearing boots, I tower over her.

“I’m sorry you got roped into this,” she says. “I’m afraid you’re going to be bored out of your mind.”

“Don’t worry about me.” I follow her back to the living room. “I’m here because I want to help. And as for me being bored—no chance. I’m good at entertaining myself.”

She points to the TV hanging on the wall across from the sofa. “I’m sorry I don’t have cable television, but I have Netflix and a few other streaming services. And there’s the internet, of course. The password for the wireless router is pumpkin, all lower case.”

As soon as she says pumpkin, an orange cat peeks out from her bedroom, stares at me, then cautiously walks toward us.

“Speaking of Pumpkin,” she says, “here he is.”

The cat walks right up to me and brushes against my right shin.

“He likes you.” She sounds genuinely surprised. “He’s not used to seeing people—just Edward once a week and occasionally my dad.”

I lean down and scratch behind the cat’s ears. “Animals are supposedly a good judge of character.”

Ruby laughs. “I guess that explains why Pumpkin hides whenever my father comes over.”

“Speaking of your father—I take it you two aren’t on the best of terms. Edward said your relationship is strained.”

“He never misses an opportunity to criticize me or tell me I’m crazy. Lately, he’s been pressuring me to move back home with him. He thinks I can’t manage on my own.”

I straighten from petting the cat. “Are you managing okay?”

“Yes. I don’t make a lot, but I don’t need a lot either. I get by, and thanks to my business, I can pay my own bills. I don’t ask anyone for anything.” She motions down the hallway behind her. “Speaking of business, I need to finish the dog painting you saw on my worktable. I’m hoping to mail it out at the first of the week. So, if you don’t mind—”

“Please, go right ahead. Don’t mind me.” I motion toward the sofa. “I’ll catch up on my reading. It seems I never get time to sit and read, so this is a definite perk.”

She smiles. “You’re just being nice. If you get hungry or thirsty, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. The pantry and fridge are pretty well stocked.” Her gaze darts to the apartment door. “The only thing I ask is that you don’t open the door.”

“I won’t.”

“Under any circumstances. Even if someone knocks, don’t open the door.”

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