Forced (1st book in The Forced Series)

Chapter Four *REVISED*

Chapter Four

The plane was delayed for forty minutes, or so she had been told, giving Hazel ten minutes to lug everything downstairs and twenty to get to the airport before she missed her flight. She moved at a snail pace, hoping to grant her own wish. Freeing her bag of paintings from a door that had always been troublesome seemed exceptionally easier than ever. The large bag just floated out as the mover walked. She glared at it, and followed him out, watching like a hawk as he expertly packed away the last of her belongings in the back of the van.

Hazel had known before that she spent most of her last five years focusing on painting and buying canvas after canvas, but it was now that she was moving that she realized just how empty her life was. Most of the trips from her flat to the van was to chart down canvases and paint supplies and little this and that's that she used during her process. And they all went through the traitorous door as if it was not there at all. As a matter of fact, if she had not been relaying on it to cause problems she would have not remembered that the door was there at all.

Once everything was packed away, and she had arranged for the building manager to let in the movers to get her sparse furnishing to storage, some five minutes later, Hazel dashed down the flight of stairs and came out onto her street.

The kids she had never smiled at were crowded around the moving van she had rented. They were touching and chattering as all kids would, whilst the teenage girls were looking at her as if they hadn't known she was even living there. Most of them were from her building, a fact she was not ignorant to. Their names, ages and schools were, however, details she did not know.

"Where you moving to?" the tallest of the group asked.

Hazel noted the expanse of freckles on the girl's face and replied nicely, "I'm moving back home; New Jersey."

The group nodded and sent smiles her way, "You getting married?" a shorter one asked.

A bit startled by the acuteness of the girl's question, Hazel stuttered over her words, "Yes, yes I believe I am."

The girls who had been chewing gum mouths fell open at her revaluation, causing the sticky little balls to fall to the hazy concrete. The one who had asked squealed out an excited "I told you so!" at the others and demanded they hand over the money they had bet.

"Cool!" freckles stated, gladly, giving the short girl two dollars.

Hazel chuckled, for the first time in the last week since Lionel's surprise visit; a laugh that was not bitter or dark. She got into the van after saying goodbye and settled in for the drive to the airport.

What Hazel wasn't expecting when she got to the airport was being told that her flight had been, ungraded courtesy of her soon to be in-laws. The attendant who delivered the news discovered what could easily be considered the brightest and widest smile Hazel had ever received.

"Ms. George, I hope you have a nice day despite the delays. Ah, I'll get someone to handle that bag for you and escort you to the lounge. Come this way, please."

After she was bullied into letting go of her carry on, Hazel allowed herself to be led – or dragged – down to the VIP lounge and was practically pushed into a sofa.

"Your plane will be ready in a few minutes, Ms. George." The new smiling maniac quipped, adding another megawatt to her already blinding smile.

Hazel sighed to herself, already frustrated with the Steels and she had not even met them yet.

"Can I get you anything, ma'am? A cool drink, perhaps?" The attendant had strutted away to order Hazel a 'refreshing drink' before she could get the words "Surprise me." out of her mouth. Now feeling generally frustrated, Hazel eyed her immobile arm in contempt as her skin started to itch underneath the cast, "Just great."