FRAGILE: Part 1 by Kimberly Malone Read Free Book Online Page A

continues to do well, we’ve had a slow in distributors willing to show our line recently, so I’ve got a lot of trade shows to attend and distributors to talk to in an attempt to get more business. Now, I’ve got a bad feeling that we’re going to lose Chargene Jewelers. And, while we haven’t had any word about Marnvell Jewelers backing out, it’s still in the back of my mind, especially since I still haven’t heard from Eli. Let alone the fact that I still haven’t come up with a new design line.
    The stress certainly keeps giving me headaches, and I take a couple of pills for headache relief before switching over to make some calls to current distributors to touch base. I can’t afford to lose any more.
    ***
    Despite how tired and off I feel, and how sad I am that there’s still no word from Eli, when Saturday rolls around I head to the local soup kitchen and food pantry that I volunteer at, called Lark’s Food Pantry. Erin, the head of Lark’s Food Pantry, greets me with a warm smile as I bend down to hug her. Erin’s short and plump, and she’s got the most contagious smile and laugh and a huge heart, something that I just love about her. We’d met at the coffee shop once, and when she asked me if I’d be interested in donating to the organization, I’d given her not just money but my number. That had been two years ago, and since then, I’d started volunteering one Saturday out of every month.
    “Hi Ruby!” Erin says. “It’s so good to see you!”
    “Good to see you too, Erin. How are you?” I ask.
    “I’m great! And yourself?”
    “Doing well.” Really, outside of just wanting to see Eli again and stressing about work, I’m fine. “What do you need help with today?”
    “I was wondering if you’d mind delivering food with Homer today?”
    Homer’s an older man with a toothy grin and the funniest jokes, and I beam at Erin. “Sounds like fun!”
    Homer’s already gathering the paper lunch bags with the food into plastic bags, his white frizzy hair sticking out every which way under his baseball cap, and he smiles and holds his arms wide when he sees me.
    “Ruuuuuuby!” Homer exclaims.
    “Hi Homer!” I give him a hug, and he pats me on the back heartily.
    “It’s been forever since I saw your pretty face,” Homer says. I help him gather up the remaining paper bags.
    “It’s only been a month,” I say.
    “But we didn’t get to work together then,” Homer says. “How’s the business?”
    “Ups and downs, but overall still doing well, thanks. And how are the ladies?” I ask. Homer’s married, and he and his wife have five daughters, and their three eldest already have children of their own, and they’re all girls too. Homer joked with me once that at this point he’s had a couple of periods because of all the estrogen floating around his family.
    “Good, good! The wife’s been fighting a cold, so she’s not here today.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that,” I say. “Tell Stacy I miss her and hope she feels better soon.”
    “Thanks, Ruby. I know she’ll be glad to hear from you.”
    I zip my black fleece jacket closed over my red t-shirt, as we walk out into the city, the wind a little cool as we’re walking. I have a very intimidating presence according to some people, and I often have to wait and let Homer do the talking before I approach folks on the streets. Of course, there are some of the men that are far more interested in me than the food, and Homer handles those ones, too. I’m usually able to get children to come to me. I have no idea why children aren’t afraid of me but some adults are, and I ask Homer about it while we head towards a crosswalk.
    “I think it’s your energy,” Homer says. “Adults are afraid of your energy because they know you could get feisty with them. Children are just drawn to energy though—and you’re full of energy.”
    I laugh. “Thanks, Homer. I haven’t felt like it recently.”
    “You getting old?” Homer asks