decided to approach them. She had no illusions that they would welcome her with open arms, but perhaps a woman talking to another woman would be safer, especially with children around. She had chosen a small backpack as her purse and carried several packs of fruit gummies, wondering if the women would allow her to give them to the children. Or would that be seen as frivolous? Her fingers wrapped around a small canister of pepper spray. Hoping she wouldn’t need it, she decided that it would be best in her jeans pocket, ready to grab if needed.
Wishing she had done more research on the homeless in the area, she sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Nerves still shooting through her, she thought of Bekki’s fire for investigative journalism. While investigative journalism was not Kimberly’s forte, her curiosity was still piqued from her editor’s call.
Throwing open the door, she slung her backpack over one shoulder and glanced down, glad that she was wearing jeans and flat shoes. Crunching over the gravel, she walked toward the burn barrel. The children did not stop playing, and she wondered if they were used to outsiders coming by. Plastering a smile on her face, she approached the women at the barrel, not missing their hard stares.
Two of them slowly stepped back, caution in their every move as they made their way over to the children playing. Two others stood firm, their gazes almost daring her to approach. Fighting the desire to run back to the safety of her car, she stopped several feet away. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here. I’m not really sure myself,” she blurted. She winced, her words sounding stupid to her own ears, and she could only imagine what she sounded like to them.
“You some church lady who wants to come down here and think our souls need saving?” one of the women asked.
The woman was much younger than Kimberly had first imagined. Her face was thin, and while her blonde hair was not very clean, it was pulled back in a neat ponytail. Glancing to the side, she saw a little blonde-haired girl and wondered if it was hers.
Shaking her head, she said, “No. I was writing some articles when… um… well, I thought this area might… um…”
“Yeah, it sounds like you don’t know why you’re here,” the other woman said. She was of indeterminate age, the creases emanating from her eyes and around her mouth possibly from harsh living conditions more than age.
“What kind of articles?” the blonde woman asked.
Uncertainty was no longer snaking through her but was blasting her with an icy wind. Stepping back, she shook her head slightly and said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you—”
“Hell, girl. If you don’t get a stiffer backbone, you ain’t never gonna get your story,” the older woman said.
Her feet stumbled to a halt, and she recognized the tiny olive branch the woman was holding. “You’re right, I won’t. I’m just not sure how to ask the right questions without sounding offensive.”
“Well, Margo and me ain’t gonna bite, so why don’t you go ahead and ask? If we don’t want to answer something… we won’t.”
“I’m Kimberly.”
“I’m Aleeta, and as I said, this here is Margo.”
Looking over her shoulder at the little blonde girl, she turned back and asked, “Is she yours, Margo?”
Margo smiled, and Kimberly’s breath caught in her throat at the transformation. Margo’s obvious pride in her daughter gave her face a glow as she nodded.
“I’m afraid I didn’t come with much, but I have some packets of fruit gummies. Would it be okay if I gave them to the kids?” Gaining their acquiescence, she pulled out the packets and held them in her hands, grinning as the children ran over. They halted several feet away, and she glanced back toward Aleeta and Margo.
“You can have ‘em,” Aleeta called out. “You know what to say.”
The children took the packs of candy, each thanking Kimberly before they ran off with their treasures. The children were so happy with so little, and she swallowed deeply past the lump in her throat.
Turning back to the women, she let out a long breath and plunged forward. “I work for Kilton Pharmaceutical Company. I was writing a series of articles about the good that the company does. But I also know that even good drugs that get in the hands of people who abuse them or sell them lead to addiction.” She observed Margo and Aleeta’s faces