The Apartment Upstairs
Chapter 13 - The Apartment Upstairs
Ruth invited them upstairs because pride was not the same as rudeness.
The apartment was small, warm near the radiator, colder by the windows. A laundry basket lined with blankets sat beside the couch for Tommy’s naps. School papers covered one corner of the table. A pill organizer sat near the stove. Nothing was dirty. Everything was tired.
Ethan noticed what poverty looked like when dignity fought back daily.
Ruth noticed him noticing.
“Don’t make that face,” she said.
He blinked. “What face?”
“The rich man discovering poor people clean.”
Mabel choked on a laugh.
Ethan accepted the correction. “Fair.”
Lily knelt beside the laundry basket while Ruth prepared the milk for Tommy. The baby cried weakly until the bottle reached him, then latched with desperate focus. The room exhaled.
Marjorie had not come. Paul had. He stood near the door holding his hat, uncertain what to do with his hands.
“I’m sorry about the store,” he said.
Ruth looked at him. “Did you do it?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Did you build the place where it happened?”
Paul swallowed. “I manage it.”
“Then manage it better.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ethan hid a smile.
Ruth turned to him. “And you. Don’t think paying once fixes hunger.”
“I don’t.”
“Good.”
She handed Tommy to Lily once he was calmer. Lily held him carefully, beaming with exhausted pride.
“This is Tommy,” she told Ethan.
Ethan crouched at a respectful distance.
“Hello, Tommy.”
The baby burped.
Lily giggled. “He says thank you.”
Ethan’s eyes softened.
No boardroom had ever given him a moment that honest.
He looked at Ruth. “May I come back tomorrow with someone who can discuss support options without making you feel trapped?”
Ruth studied him.
“One person,” she said. “No cameras.”
“No cameras.”
“And no speeches.”
May you like
Ethan smiled. “I hate speeches.”
Ruth snorted. “I doubt that.”
