Ruth shook her head as she compared the plans to the faint sketches on the wood. “Good thing my mom said I can stay and help.” I gave Ruth a small paintbrush and asked her to start working on the storefront windowpanes. After a few minutes, I went over to check her work, worried that she’d have trouble with the lines. But it turned out that even though Ruth couldn’t draw to save her life, she had a perfectly steady hand with a paintbrush. She pulled the brush down in one long, steady stroke, biting her lip as she worked. “Ruth, that’s perfect,” I said. The storefronts needed a little flair here and there, but mostly they were time-intensive because of all the borders, which needed straight edges. “Why didn’t you tell me you could paint perfectly straight lines?” “I didn’t know,” Ruth said, laughing as she picked her brush up off the board. “So this is going to help?” “So much,” I said. “Dad’s picking me up at four o’clock. When do you have to go?”
