Author's note:
See Pt. 1 for blurb. Also, if you haven't already read Part 1, I strongly recommend doing so before proceeding.
All sensuality (on page or otherwise) takes place between characters who are eighteen or older.
Fourteen
"What are you doing?" John questioned reflexively upon reaching the top of the stairs.
Hazel, who had been softly padding down the hallway while wrapped in a towel, yelped in surprise and whirled to face him. This action proved too great a burden to bear for her decorative, but not very large, improvised coverup. They both watched the article in question slide unceremoniously to the floor dumbly, neither reacting immediately.
At length, Hazel said, "What are you doing here?"
"I live here."
"I meant...why aren't you at work?"
"Because it's Saturday?" he replied slowly, suddenly wondering if it was he who was confused about the calendar.
"Oh shit," she whispered as she glanced in the direction of Lena's room before adding, "Are you sure?"
"Um...I think so..." John stammered, as he found it increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that she was both completely nude and less than a meter from him.
He somehow managed to keep his eyes on hers and she nonchalantly asked, "So...what are you up to today?"
"Our plans are still a little fluid, but I was going to start with not having Lena wonder why her neighbor is standing naked in her hallway."
"Oh, shit," Hazel muttered, as she bent to retrieve her towel and wrap it around herself. "Sorry. I forgot to take something to change into when I showered. I guess I'd gotten out of the habit of wearing clothes around the house, especially when Thomas is out of town. And I tried to cover up with a towel, but I'm too fat..."
"You're not fat," John corrected gently. "How could you ever think such a thing?"
"I'm not stupid, John. Nor am I blind and deaf." He opened his mouth to object further, but she added, "I'll go get dressed before Lena gets up. Sorry about this."
"It's no big deal," he replied after she closed the door, his powers of speech up until that point having been robbed by the sight of the bottom of her ass peeking out beneath her towel.
He stood dumbly in the hall for several moments trying to make sense of Hazel's baffling comments. The more he had spoken to her since what he now thought of as 'The Incident' (when she had propositioned him), the more he became convinced that things had been very broken with her marriage long before Katherine had decided to grace Thomas with her body. It went easily along with the self-reflection he had been engaged in ever since Katherine admitted the affair, wondering what he had done to drive her into the arms of another man.
John finally remembered his reason for coming upstairs in the first place and went to Lena's room to wake her up. His daughter had reacted to Hazel's presence with a decided lack of interest, which had taken him quite by surprise. Their neighbors were certainly not strangers, but it was not as if they had been overly friendly either. John suspected the total word count Lena had spoken to Hazel in her life prior to the latter's reintroduction at breakfast earlier that week could be counted on a single person's fingers without the need to call the thumbs into service.
Lena rose as reluctantly as always, but he managed to perk her up with a promise of made-to-order smoothies. Hazel descended the stairs as Lena was putting the finishing touches on a concoction made from coconut, blueberries, and pomegranate which looked not unlike the results one would expect when trying to use a blender to conceal an unfortunate incident with a pet hamster.
"Morning Ms. Hazel," Lena said brightly after taking her first sip of the murder smoothie. "What do you like in your smoothie?"
"Oh, I'm fine. I shouldn't eat breakfast."
"That's what Daddy always says, but he's just grumpy. But you're really pretty, so you should always have breakfast. My teacher said it's the most important meal of the day. Besides...I really want to make another one and Daddy won't let it go to waste."
Hazel looked at John helplessly, but he just said, "Go ahead. It'll make her morning."
She sighed and said, "Ok. But a small one. Preferably with lots of healthy stuff in it."
"I know just what to do," Lena declared confidently.
She spent the next ten minutes rummaging around in every conceivable orifice which could store food in a modern house. When she was finished, the mound of materials was more than sufficient to make a few dozen smoothies. Hazel's eyes had widened significantly throughout the process, but she was driven to speak as Lena triumphantly held up the final item.
"I don't think chocolate syrup is very healthy."
Lena fixed Hazel with a judgmental glare and huffed, "It's there to balance out the astringency of the lemon zest."
Hazel looked to John in wide-eyed wonder, to which he responded, "She loves watching cooking videos. One day she'll no doubt be a head chef at a five-star restaurant. Or run a food truck."
"Both have their benefits," Hazel replied lightly.
By the time they returned their attention to Lena, the blender was most of the way full and she showed no signs of slowing.
"She said small, sweetheart," John chided gently.
"Then you can have some, Daddy."
John swooped in when it came time to lid up the blender and turn it on and soon the motley assortment of ingredients was homogenized. Lena proudly filled two pint-glasses to the brim and sat back expectantly. John and Hazel shared a glance as they lifted the concoction to their lips, both silently daring the other to go first. Hazel finally smiled and took a sip. Her eyes widened significantly, but she had no other outward reaction. John steeled his resolve and took his own sip. He managed to keep from reacting in any way despite the taste which could best be described as what one would expect were Buddy the Elf to be consulted when making a Waldorf salad.
"Do I taste apples?"
"I told you it was healthy," Lena crowed proudly.
"Indeed. It's very...unique."
Lena preened at the perceived compliment and carried her own beverage into the breakfast room.
John whispered, "You obviously don't have to drink that."
"It's not that bad. Besides, what kind of guest would I be if I attempted to mislead her about her cooking?"
"A wise one," John replied sagely, but he continued to sip at his own smoothie.
"Are there any plans I should be aware of?"
"Just working around here. Maybe going out to dinner later. You're welcome to do whatever, obviously."
"Would it be ok if I did yoga outside before it gets too hot?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" he asked in genuine bafflement.
