Chapter 48 Ruby

48

Ruby

Sunset Senior Living facility sat on 46 th Street and 10 th Avenue between a dog day-care center and a liquor store.

The sign in the reception area read: ‘Making Your Sunset Years Beautiful' and beneath it was a picture of an old lady sipping a margarita on a rooftop, watching the sun set behind the buildings of Manhattan.

The facility manager, Lula, did point out that they'd had to close the rooftop refreshment area, as two residents had managed to throw themselves off the top of the building. She also explained Saturday night was movie night, meatloaf was Wednesdays, Tuesdays was aerobics and Thursdays was karaoke night. Both suicides happened on a Thursday. Lula helpfully added that she didn't believe there to be any correlation.

For a place that cost eighty-nine thousand dollars a year, and was cheap in this part of New York, it struck Ruby that taking a fall off the roof might make economic sense to some folks.

‘I'm sure your mother will be very happy here,' said Lula as she walked with them toward her mother's room, passing some elderly gentlemen with walking frames and cheeky grins.

The room could've been better. The floral wallpaper had peeled away at the corners, and there was an orderly kneeling down at the locker beside the bed, putting stuff into a blue garbage bag. There were fresh sheets, a TV, a chair and a comfortable bed and bathroom. Stains on the wallpaper where pictures had been freshly removed.

‘We encourage residents to place their own art on the walls. Our porters will bring your personal items of furniture right up,' said Lula.

Her mom looked around the room and smiled, then patted Ruby's arm.

‘I'll be well cared for here,' said her mom. ‘You go and live your life. I can't believe you spent all your savings on this . . . you . . . you've worked so hard for me . . .'

Ruby choked up when she heard the emotion breaking her mother's voice.

‘He left us with nothing. You've saved me, Ruby. I love you so much.'

She felt the last of her mother's strength in that embrace. She inhaled her. The Oil of Olay on her skin, the smell of strawberries from her hair. Ruby's tears fell onto her mom's gingham dress.

‘I'll be back in a day or so –' she almost said out loud she would come to say goodbye, but checked herself at the last moment – ‘to check in. Just call my cell if you need anything.'

Ruby didn't mind handing over a quarter of a million dollars for her mom's care. She deserved somewhere decent to live. And this was way better than their ratty apartment. She would be looked after for the remainder of the short time she had left in this world.

It was more than her father, Josef, had ever done. All he knew how to do was spend and lose money, and hurt people.

By the time Ruby left the facility, she was already planning.

She thought about going home and packing up her possessions, but apart from some clothes there was nothing she wanted to take. She had no heirlooms like the Jacksons. Anything of value had already been taken and sold by her father's debtors, who failed to track him down. Ruby wondered if they had looked very hard at all, because her father had signed liens on all their property and possessions. The banks and businesses he owed could just take the house and everything in it, and sell it. And that is exactly what they had done.

She would go to the Jacksons and look after Tomas and think things over.

When Ruby arrived at the Jacksons', she met their lawyer, Flynn. She didn't like him, didn't like the way he looked at her.

Ruby found it hard to contain herself when Alison said they were going to a hotel. She helped them pack. John would go to court, and Alison and Tomas would be at the hotel today.

Ruby quickly formed a plan.

She would get her money. Go home and pack her stuff. Rent a vehicle. Go to the Jacksons' tonight.

And find a way to deal with Mr. Christmas.

She was sweating by the time she reached the bank, a brand-new duffel bag in her hands, which she'd just bought from a Target. When it was her turn at the teller, she explained she had called ahead and wanted to make a withdrawal. One of the bank's supervisors was called, and he tried and failed to get Ruby to keep her account with them.

Twenty minutes later she was on the street, her account closed.

Two hundred and fifty grand in her new bag.

And a plan forming in her mind.

The man who called himself Mr. Christmas was formidable. Frightening, even. And smart. But not entirely honest. Ruby knew if she gave him the money, his next move would be to put a bullet in her head.