His Heart

Chapter nineteen: Charlie

"So how did it go?" Maddie asked.

I looked up surprised.

"I thought you would have gone to bed. It's late." I murmured.

"It's only half ten." She replied. "How was it?"

I shrugged.

"Papá." She said.

"Yeah, cariño?"

"You can tell me. I won't get upset."

I gave a little smile. "It was good."

She grinned. "So, you'll see her again?"

"I don't know. It's early days, cariño."

"You like her?" She asked.

"Yes..."

"Then ask her out again." She said as if it were that simple.

I nodded. "Ok. I will."

She looked at me.

"Now?" I asked.

"Yes!" She said. "Now. Before you start to let doubts settle in."

"Is there not an appropriate amount of time you have to wait?" I asked.

She gave me a look only a teenage girl could pull off. One that said are you an idiot? And I love you at the same time.

"Ok. Give me a minute." I conceded defeat.

She grinned and patted my shoulder lovingly and only slightly condescending.

"It's ok, Papá. I know you're new at this." She said.

I shook my head and sank onto the sofa. I pulled out my phone and went to message her.

"A text? Really?" She scoffed.

"What do you suggest?" I asked.

"Calling her? Like a gentleman?"

"For a fifteen-year-old who's never dated before you're surprisingly good at this." I muttered, pressing the call button, and kissing my daughter on her head. "A tad judgemental too."

"Thank you." She grinned, smiling up at me. "I'll give you some privacy."

She left the room, and I watched the phone ring.

It went to voicemail, and I laughed, deciding to message her instead. I could call her in the morning. It was late after all.

I typed out a quick message and headed to bed, wondering what Jasmine would think of all this.

~*~

I woke up the next morning to a warm body snuggling mine.

"Hey, cariño." I murmured, wrapping an arm around Leo.

"Papá, I don't feel well." He mumbled.

I touched his forehead instinctively and internally groaned. He must have caught my cold. 

"I'll get you some medicine." I told him. "Stay here."

I went downstairs to rummage in the cupboard for painkillers. At least this forced leave meant I didn't have to call work and explain to my manager why I couldn't leave a sick seven-year-old unattended.

Heading back upstairs, I took his temperature to make sure he didn't have a fever and told him to lie down.

"Have some water, cariño." I murmured. "Should we watch a movie?"