Cont’ from the story posted on May 29th:

Char glanced around the room and half noticed the furtive glances aimed her way by the males in the room. Men have looked for as long as she remembered. As a little girl she would say, “People are staring mama.” Then she would put her hands to her face. Her mother would smile and say, “Get used to it sweetpea.”

Terms of endearment would slip easily from her mother’s tongue. People who are not used to it can be bothered by it. Char knew it meant she was loved and it gave her a sense of security to hear it even though she’s never called anyone else sweetpea in her life.

As beautiful as Char was, it was her confidence, secured by a childhood filled with love, that made conversation stop when she walked into a room. Or maybe it was her purple satin mini-skirt and leopard shoes.

The instructor in the front of the room cleared his throat which made the twenty something boys snap their heads to the front of the room as Char made her way to an empty seat where she slid in easily.

“Funny,” she thought, “What’s up with the little desks?”

You would think a company worth billions in equity and resources would at least have comfortable chairs and a decent conference table.

She looked to the front of the room and noticed that one boy was still staring and grinning at her. She looked down and then up again. He was still staring. She looked away and tried to ignore it. A lifetime of being the center of attention still didn’t prepare her for such an open display of admiration.

“What’s the matter with him?” she thought.

There was a heavy tap on her shoulder. She looked around and saw Steve, her friend from the company orientation last year. They struck a comfortable friendship and stuck together throughout the leadership program. He gave her a sense of security and familiarity and he gloated because he is a popular guy when he’s around her.

“He’s staring at you.” Steve said.

“Shut-up,” she replied and then gave him a tap on his knee.

He half chuckled and half snorted gleefully. The rest of the lecture droned on without incident. The boy who was staring finally turned around and looked forward and Char let out a sigh of relief.

“Have a good day everyone, make it count,” the instructor said and with that, the room erupted with conversation and the squeaky noise of chairs sliding back as it began to empty.

The young man made his way over to her, “Hi,” he said, “I’m Tom.” And he stuck out his hand.

————————————————————————–

Char’s sobs continued unabated for several minutes. The nurse placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her chest felt constricted and though she was hungry, she knew her stomach couldn’t take any food. She rolled over toward the wall and brought her knees to her chest. She wanted to turn her back to it; she wanted to believe none of it was true. She was no longer looking at the pink key chain and her sobs began to quiet and she once again fell into a restless sleep.