Chapter 2
I took Ruby to the private fitting lounge before asking anything else.
She sat on the velvet bench with her feet dangling above the floor while a young saleswoman brought three pairs of school shoes.
Ruby looked at the boxes.
Then at me.
“Can I pick?”
“Yes.”
“With family money?”
My chest tightened.
“Yes.”
She whispered:
“Aunt Corinne says family money is for important people.”
I crouched in front of her.
“You are important.”
She frowned.
“Because you’re my daddy?”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“Because you’re you.”
That answer seemed to confuse her more than comfort her.
Four years old, and someone had already taught her value needed a reason.
She chose the cheapest pair.
Not because she liked them best.
I could tell.
“You want those?”
She pointed toward another pair.
Pink stitching.
Same practical style.
A few dollars more.
“Those.”
“Then those.”
She looked toward the door.
“What?”
“Aunt Corinne gets mad when I choose pretty.”
I stayed very still.
“How often do you shop with her?”
“Lots.”
That was news to me.
Corinne sometimes picked Ruby up from school when my days ran late. I thought she took her for snacks, parks, family visits.
Apparently she had been doing more.
“Does she buy you things?”
Ruby shook her head.
“She says I should learn no.”
The saleswoman froze beside the shelves.
I looked at her.
“You’ve heard that?”
Her face went pale.
“Yes.”
“How often?”
She glanced toward the door.
I did not raise my voice.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“How often?”
“Several times.”
That mattered.
Not a private aunt losing patience.
Public repetition.
I asked:
“What does Corinne buy when Ruby is here?”
The woman hesitated.
“For other children.”
Silence.
“Which children?”
“Cousins. Capos’ families. Her friends’ daughters.”
Ruby looked down at her worn shoes.
Corinne had not been teaching thrift.
She had been staging comparison.
May you like
Some children received Ferraro generosity.
Mine watched.
