Looking back, there had been other signs that something wasn’t quite right with Ruby prior to my trip to Seattle.
When we first met she pulled up in her van and the front end was nearly dragging on the ground! I’d be concerned about driving a vehicle in that condition, but she didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. There was the soup incident where she’d made us a vegetable soup, which I’d politely turned down. She made it around 6pm and it sat on the stove (turned off) all night, and around noon the next day she ate some and then put it away. Next came the freezer episode where I woke up to water all over the kitchen floor because she’d put Klondike bars in the door and it didn’t close all the way and everything melted. The one scenario that took the cake though was when I came home to find her standing at the dining room window, tits out. She greeted me as if this were NBD. Notably, the woman has a chest that would put Dolly Parton to shame! I tried to maintain eye contact, wondering if I needed to add a nudity clause to the rental agreement.
Upon returning home, the first thing I noticed was the pile of her clothes which had manifested in the entryway- a byproduct of her unpacking, I assumed. But as we climbed the stairs Rick and I glanced around the house and we couldn’t believe our eyes! Ruby had rearranged and added furniture, hung up artwork in the living room, moved my plants to make room for her lamps and relocated other things of mine which were replaced with her knickknacks that now seemed to be everywhere! Also, several of the plants that were in her bedroom now adorned the dining room.
To be fair, she had shown me a picture while I was gone of two lamps she’d set on the mantle. I thought it was a nice touch, but I was not expecting all this!
She’d altered the laundry room and hung a picture that was there and moved it to the hallway. She hung my recycle bin up on the wall. She’d even moved more of my dishes, which I didn’t notice until the next day. Things of mine in the kitchen were rearranged/replaced with her belongings, but ironically, the space in the hallway where I’d removed the picture for her was still empty.
The strangest part was that she didn’t even mention it; no acknowledgement whatsoever. There was asking for forgiveness as opposed to asking for permission- then there’s whatever the hell this was!
I instantly had a flashback of her last landlord “He said I took over the place.” I instantly felt a surge of empathy for this man whom I’d never met and began to question the legitimacy of everything she’d ever told me.
As Ruby took center stage, recounting her latest Rover gig in dramatic fashion, I was in a state of shock. Who does this? Am I in the Twilight Zone? Having gotten zero sleep the night before, my ability to process my surroundings was minimal. I eventually had to interrupt her so I could run Rick home.
“Holy shit! Are you ok? What are you going to do?” he inquired as I navigated the winding road. “I have no idea, but I obviously have to handle this sooner rather than later.” “Call me if you need me- something’s definitely not right with her.” Agreed.
We had a come to Jesus discussion the next morning and she instantly began crying. She’d previously disclosed being on Seroquel for sleep and Tamoxifen- apparently she’d recently quit the Tamoxifen and it was making her sick. Maybe she was just playing me, but I found it difficult to remain upset. I told her (repeatedly) that I wanted her to feel happy and welcome here, but for future reference, I need to be included in decisions that involve our shared spaces.
A few things I need to make note of: during this talk she told me she had an additional 2 pages of ideas for our home, so apparently all those adjustments were her just getting started, which wasn’t great. I told Ruby we could go over them in the near future. Next, she said her best friend Peter told her she owed it to me and herself to tell me the truth about who she was, which sounded a bit ominous to me so I asked her to elaborate. “Oh, he just means that I need to speak up if something is bothering me.” Well, that’s true for pretty much everyone and that comment seemed very specific to her. I wasn’t buying it, but what could I do if she wasn’t willing to be more forthcoming? Lastly, I knew doctors don’t prescribe Seroquel just for sleep. It’s an anti-psychotic/ mood stabilizer. It was prescribed to me when I was suicidal just prior to getting my IUD removed.
Still, somehow I left our conversation feeling pleased that we were finally on the same page as far as her not changing things in the future without my consent- a big deal, all things considered. I proceeded to get ready and head to Rick’s for the evening.
When I arrived home about six hours later, I found myself in total disbelief all over again. She had completely undid every single thing she’d changed prior to my trip! Everything was now just as I’d previously had it- it must’ve taken her the entire time I was gone. I was dumbfounded. How could this be her takeaway from our discussion? I wanted her to be happy and feel welcome, which was not possible if she felt the need to do this. Why had she reacted in such an extreme fashion?
The next morning I left her a long-winded message apologizing for not being more clear. She told me not to be sad and that we’re in this for the long haul and eventually we’ll get there. So now I was the one who was overreacting and she was seemingly chill? What the hell was happening?
Days went by and more and more stacks of Ruby’s belongings appeared in random places: the floor next to the stairs (clothes), there was a full size ladder in the corner by the hallway with random junk, and the floor in front of the fireplace (blankets/clothes).
She kept saying she needed to install shelving in the garage (which she’d pay for), and that once this happened she’d have a place for all this stuff. Also, she had some pieces of artwork that were supposedly worth a lot of money and they were- you guessed it- on the floor.
Because her idea never came to fruition, eventually Rick took matters into his own hands (which was probably her plan all along). He obtained some shelves and installed them, while I kinda sorta helped. Afterwards, we returned to his house.
Notably, while Rick was assembling the shelves Ruby had asked if I wanted her to sell my patio furniture. For context, when she first moved in I had told her the deck was all hers. I have one off of my bedroom and I thought she might enjoy the furnished deck with the fairy lights, which was off of the dining room. But apparently she wanted to convert the deck into an art studio and this was her way of letting me know my furniture was now in her way. Rick had to explain this to me on the way back to his place. As frustrated as I was, I felt I needed to honor what I’d told her, regardless of how ridiculous it seemed. “My God, it’s never enough for this woman!” I exclaimed, my head resting in my hands. I texted her that I’d have the furniture moved the following weekend. She replied “Thanks!”
She blamed not feeling well for the clutter that remained and the shelves that sat empty, asking me to bear with her. By this time, the deck had so much of her crap on it that it could easily be mistaken for the domicile of a homeless person. Her bathroom was unlike anything I’d ever seen- the soft white lightbulbs had been replaced with harsh blue lights, the floor was covered with art supplies and miscellaneous items- the sink was full of various kinds of rocks and old used tea leaves, etc. She was also constantly reconfiguring her room and kept the door closed because admittedly “It was a bit messy.”
I realized that the only thing I could expect from Ruby was the unexpected. Even her AA meeting attendance was becoming more hit and miss. I’d given up hope that our situation would improve because chaos wasn’t merely something she occasionally fell prey to- it appeared to be in her DNA. I can hang in there for ten more months, I told myself. Ten more months and I’m done with her.
Then, two days later, all hell broke loose…