Harry pushed his way between Tom’s outstretched hand and Char. Henry was over privileged and proud of it. It’s a mantle he wears in his demeanor, in his posture and on his countenance. Some women find it very magnetic. Char finds it over-bearing.

“Hey Char! What are you doing this weekend? Wanna come to the Hamptons with us?” It was a question, but then again it wasn’t. The expectation was that she would say yes.

“Char?” Tom stood his ground against Harry’s assault. Her name escaped his lips easily. He smiled a disarmingly crooked smile and his eyes . . . she saw them twinkle into a wink without winking.

“What a beautiful name.”

His voice laid her ears like music. She instinctively turned to him and said, “Thank you, it’s short for Anchara.”

She very rarely offers such information without being pressed directly. She met his eyes, they were a clear, pool blue. And she smiled.

Harry looked back and forth between Char and Tom and before he could say anything, the another young man came up to the ever larger gathering. He stood next to Harry and said, “An…Ann…Cha…Cha…what? What does that mean? Where are you from?”

She turned her almond eyes toward him without turning her body. The question was asked of her hundreds of times it seemed. Most of the time she politely answered but the bluntness and inconsideration from this man made her guard go up. She knew he was curious. She knew he was flirting with her in his own way, many men do.

But she didn’t care.

“It’s An-char-a and I’m from Pennsylvania.” The tone of her answer made it clear she didn’t want the conversation to continue. And with most people, the message is received.

But not with this young man. Bravado in the presence a beautiful woman can make a man lose whatever filters would normally be there to protect one in a social situation. This man’s peacock feathers were out in full view.

“Pennsylvania really? But where are you really from? I mean you know, what country.” He obviously wasn’t giving up. By this time, even Harry was starting to get restless with the questioning.

Harry started, “Look….”

And Tom interrupted, “How about we go downstairs for a drink Anchara?”

She already loved how he said her name. She turned her eyes and body toward him and held out her hand. “I’d love to.”

And with that, the two of them walked hand in hand toward the exit with the other three young men looking after them, two with gaping mouths.

“Wait!” shouted her friend Steve.”I’m coming too!”

——————————————————————————————————————–

Char opened her eyes to streaming sunlight from open, curtainless windows.  She sat up slowly, aware of her aching bones but feeling better since before she can remember. She saw the Thai breakfast of mango and sticky rice with a pewter cup filled with water next to it. She tucked her legs underneath her and reached for the food. She ate ravenously.

The sound of chickens clucking reached her ears. The floor boards had gaps in them, some far apart enough for her to see the ground below and she saw pecking chickens moving from between one floor board to another.

“I’m home.” she thought, “I’m home.”