Chapter six. Echoes of the past
Sunday morning arrived with a slow hush sunlight poured through the tall windows of Ruth's penthouse, touching warmth. She sat on her balcony with a steaming cup, wrapped in a thick robe, her eyes distant. Yesterday something stirred something inside her. The music performance of the teen's, the stories the kids shared, their commitment and resilience, their love and passion for what they believe in, the rawness of their voices, Hayden's unwavering kindness, it all clung to her, refusing to fade.
Hayden is a young man who shows natural kindness, his love and kindness are unconditional. He has been a source of encouragement to the teens. His desire for them is to succeed and be meaningful to their world. Truly, men like Hayden are rare to find. This is the main reason Ruth loves him and never wants to let him go.
Her phone buzzed with a reminder: family brunch- Gold estate - 11am. She groaned inwardly. These weren't meals- they were business meetings with mimosas. The Gold Estate dining was bathed in polished light crystal bowls of fresh berries and tiers of pastures covered the center of the long, polished oak table.
Ruth arrived last, as usual.
Ruth was gorgeously dressed that night, she was one of the most pretty ladies that attended that dinner. She will always look stunning and outstanding in her manner of dressing.
Maxwell Kelvin was seated at the head reading the news from his tablet. Her stepmother, Veronica, a former model with ice in her eyes, sipped orange juice without acknowledging Ruth.
"Cutting in close, dear", Veronica said flatly
" I'm Here now", Ruth replied, sitting across her younger half brother, Leo who grinned and mouthed, you okay? She nodded.
Ruth's stepmother married some years ago after the death of her mother. Her father needed a wife to be with after mourning his wife. She is quite distant from Ruth, she had no long conversation. She will always pretend she never saw Ruth. There was no tension between her and her stepmother.
Max Kelvin put down his tablet." I saw the press photos from the Gala. Good coverage. Gerrand said "you
made a strong impression".
Ruth took a bite of croissant. " That wasn't the highlight of my evening".
Her father raised a brow."No".
"I visited Harmony center yesterday, the kids are wonderful, incredible and full of zest. One of them handed me a poem that nearly broke my heart". The other kids by the name Chelsea performed incredibly with her fingers on the guitar. I was really awe-inspiring and inspired by their performances.
" Veronica gave a polite laugh, " I'm sure that's adorable. But let's not be sentimental. "Your life is here, not in some rundown community hall".
Ruth met her gaze, " My life is wherever I choose to make a difference". That was a soft and polite reply from Ruth. Ruth has a daring heart, she means every word of hers and she is always resolute in her decisions.
Leo clapped slowly under the table
Max Kelvin sighed." We've talked about this. You're a face of Gold Holdings. There's no room for distractions"
" That's maybe I don't want a face", she said , her voice rising slightly," I want to be someone real". The table was silent. Ruth is a lady with strong determination, she pursues her dreams vigorously and never relents. She believes in change, transformation, and genuine aspirations. She is a typical resemblance of her mother.
After a long pause, her father softened just slightly, " you sound like your mother".
Ruth swallowed hard. " I hope I do".
That afternoon, unable to shake the heaviness of the brunch, she warned through her mother's old art studio In the west wing covered in dust sheets and untouched for years, it still smelled faintly of turpentine and lavender. It was a painting of a young girl- Ruth Maxwell, eight years old sitting in a garden, her eyes full of wonder. Tears pricked her eyes. She had not seen her even then, curious, sensitive, passionate and yearning.
Ruth had been there since childhood, she's not emotional, but she is brave and has zero tolerance for impunity, cowardice and hatred. She has a high love and passion for everything that is unique, transformational and historic. She wants to make a good name for herself. On the desk was a sketchbook. She opened it carefully, fingers amazing over the worn pages. Inside were unfinished portraits, dreamy concepts and poetic notes. One page read," love must be free, otherwise, isn't love- it's a transaction.
Ruth closed the book and held it to her chest.
Maybe everything she was looking for had been inside her all along. And maybe , just maybe , the echoes of her mother's past were calling her toward a future she finally wanted to claim. Ruth's late mother was a rare gem. She stood tall in choices that shaped the life of anybody positively. Her mother's kind of person was beginning to push her into a glorious destiny.
She wrote another poem," she will inherit more than wealth- she will carry the burden of being real in a world of marks".
This was exactly what was driving Ruth. She's very exceptional. She looks more from the inside than the outward. Most times beauty lives inside. Surely, Ruth was going to be a "pathfinder of true love". Ruth closed the book and held it to her chest again. Everything was beginning to make more sense to her. Her true essence in this world of dark fittings is beginning to unleash. She will become an example of genuine and sincere love.
She spent the next hour in the studio, opening dusty cabinets and uncovering tubes of dried paint, sketching tools,and unfinished works. She sat at her mother's stool and stared at a blank canvas on an easel. Her fingers itched for something she hadn't felt for years the urge to create. She dipped her hand into a box of pastels. brushed her fingers across the soft pigment. She drew a single line, then another. But realized it, her hand was moving on its own. First shapes, then curves, then color. Her heart raced with stress or pressure but with peace. In the corner of the room, the light fell across her mother's favorite brush, still stained with lavender blue.
She picked it up slowly, reverently
Then smiled
It was not a time to remember who her mother was….. but to remember who she was too. She is just like her mother. She sat at the studio and thought over the victories she will get after getting married to Hayden. She wants to have peace of mind that is devoid of silver and Gold. She was to impact her world, she wanted to change stories. She is not just pursuing true love, she is also chasing after a true character that is priceless. Lines turned into the face.
It was one of the girls from Harmony center- Talia. The one who gave her a poem. Her eyes had held something fragile and defiant at the same time. As she finished the sketch, Ruth ran her fingers across the graphite. Her mother's words echoed again," Love must be free".
Love not strategy, not business, not advantage. Just love. And what she felt now for the kids, for Hayden, for herself even- was the beginning of it.
In a world that measured everything by gain, she was finally starting to measure by truth. She closed the sketchbook, heart full, mind quiet. What was written was not a poem, it registered in her heart. They were going to be a template.
Love is truly beyond strategy, it is not a business. True love is true, genuine, and unconditional. And that is what Ruth has found in Hayden.
For this first time in her life, Ruth Maxwell didn't feel she had to be anyone else.
She has enough
And it was just the beginning.