“Yes, you have to.”
“Fine,” she groaned with a roll of her eyes, scooping up the pile, a pair of socks falling to the floor.
“Before you go, can I talk to you for a second?” I mean, it wasn’t like she could say no. “I want to ask you about Charlotte.”
“I like Charlotte.”
“That’s great. I like her too. What would you think about Charlotte coming over for dinner and hanging out with us more often?”
I held my breath. I had no idea what I was going to do if she said no. I couldn’t let a six-year-old dictate my love life, but the last thing I wanted to do was make her unhappy.
“Is she coming tonight?” Isla asked, dropping her neatly folded clothes undoing all my hard work.
“No, sweetheart, not tonight.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Maybe. I’ll ask her,” I confirmed as relief flooded me.
“I can just call her now,” Isla announced, grabbing my phone from the coffee table and propping herself up on the couch.
“Isla?”
“How do I call her?”
It wasn’t my plan, but I wasn’t about to squash on her enthusiasm either. Instead, I held out my hand, took my phone, and placed the call.
Charlotte’s face popped up, and I couldn’t help but smile. She had her hair piled up in a messy bun on her head, and her face was scrubbed free of makeup, and she’d never looked more gorgeous. There was something about its simplicity that made her even more appealing.
“Hey, you,” she greeted, lifting the wine glass to her lips, but I didn’t even get a chance to reply before the phone was snatched from my hand and Isla walked away with it.
“Hi, Charlotte. Did you want to come over for a tea party tomorrow?” I heard her invite before the definite click of her bedroom door causing me to double-check myself. Did I have a six-year-old or a sixteen-year-old?
Figuring she couldn’t get in too much trouble, I focused back on putting away the mountain of laundry. How two people ended up with so much washing, I’d never understand. When Isla hadn’t appeared ten minutes later, I went looking for her.
She was showing Charlotte everything in her sparkly jewelry box that sat on her bookshelf, Charlotte oohing and aahing with everything she pulled out, from the plastic ring she’d found in the sand to the bracelet I’d bought her at a street vendor in the park.
“Everything okay in here?” I asked as I put away Isla’s long-forgotten clothes.
“Yes, Dad,” Isla sassed.
“Can I talk to Charlotte now?”
“Fine. Charlotte, don’t forget your tiara tomorrow for our tea party,” Isla reminded her before handing me the phone and picking up her book.
“Isla, teeth and then bed. I’ll be in to tuck you in in five minutes,” I told her with the sinking feeling that in half an hour we’d still be having the same conversation.
Dragging her feet, Isla shuffled toward the bathroom, and I left her to it. It wasn’t until I was sitting on the end of my bed, that I pulled the phone away from me and caught Charlotte snickering.
“Hi,” I greeted her dumbly.
“Hi. That was ... interesting,” Charlotte offered.
“Sorry about that. We were talking …”
“About?”
“About you possibly coming over for dinner and hanging out with us a bit more,” I admitted, not embarrassed at all. I wanted to spend more time with Charlotte and I wasn’t about to apologize for it.
