Hassan was hanging around mom at the bar, buying her drinks and chatting her up. There was nothing I could do if she enjoyed the attention. She was a ...ree agent. My Mom, not my wife.Yet I took a close interest, feeling a twang of jealousy and uncomfortable curiosity.Next day Hassan's friends all greeted Ann and joked more with her. Not all of them spoke fluent English but those that did acted as translators. They would laugh ripely among themselves about something, then translate to us what. The girl who was grabbed walks over, and thanks me while I clean my bo-shuriken then put it away. She has a hard time taking her eye off the food, and she looks a bit undernourished. I smile at her while saying, “Come sit with me to have something to eat with us while you tell me what that was all about.” She’s hesitant, but nods yes. She’s not so sure when I lead us all upstairs.Gulping, she says, “Excuse me, Lord, but I’m here with two friends.”I smile, “Wave them over so they can eat with us. More

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