Spanish lessons

6. Three is a pack

Wearing sandals on her feet and her turquoise bikini underneath jeans shorts and a white top, Charlotte was waiting for her date in the hall of the hotel. Dates, to be exact, as Harry would obviously bring his daughter. So not really a date. Or was it?

Let's see what the day will bring, Charlotte thought in an attempt to slow down the tempo of her thoughts and her corresponding racing heartbeat.

Two minutes later, one very tall and one tiny silhouette appeared around the corner of the hall and before Charlotte had turned around fully to greet Harry and Aria, two small arms had already wrapped around her legs.

"Cha-cha!" Harry's daughter had almost fallen over from the speed with which she had run to hug Charlotte (or Cha-cha, she had trouble remembering and pronouncing the name correctly).

"Sorry for being late, I had a hard time getting her dressed. She was so excited to see you, she wouldn't sit still for longer than ten seconds." Harry leaned down to pull Charlotte into a hug. "Can't say that I didn't share her excitement", he mumbled into Charlotte's neck. The warmth radiating from his body immediately calmed her down. Reluctantly letting go of each other, they shared a smile. How long is the appropriate hug time for strangers who had just met two days before?

"I was looking forward to this, too." Charlotte hoped her tone transported the fact that the feelings of joy were mutual. She didn't want to seem overexcited. Which she was.

And this was not about spending a day with Harry Styles. At the beach. For her, it was just Harry. While there was no denying his biography and reputation, Charlotte didn't have a hard time being chill about all of that stuff. In the end, it was his job.

Two days ago, they had gotten a glimpse of each other (despite both being in swimwear). Without knowing too much about the other person's intentions and boundaries, they were both willing to strip today. Figuratively speaking.

The little group left the hotel and headed to the subway. Getting off at La Barceloneta, the short walk to the beach was an adventure in itself. Harry had a hard time keeping Aria near him, since the beach promenade was packed with ice cream parlors and little souvenir booths.

"Hey princess, we will get some ice cream later, I promise. Just stay near Daddy for now, so I don't lose you before we even get to the beach."

"Pinky pwomise?" Aria was skeptic. Her father wouldn't allow her too much sweets, but he couldn't deny her one ice cream, or could he?

"Pinky promise." Harry held out the pinky of his right hand to his daughter. But instead of sticking out her own, Aria slipped her whole hand into his.

"Okay, I stay with you."

Charlotte had watched the short exchange between the two from two steps behind, and her heart felt like it would explode soon from the cuteness.

"How about we find a nice spot with some shade on this neverending beach?", she asked joyfully.

"Yeah, let's go. Sorry for the hold-up. There's just a lot of people here, and you know..." The soft touch of Charlotte's index finger on his mouth stopped Harry from finishing his sentence.

"Stop that right there. I know how protective you are of her, and rightfully so. And I don't mind. Don't apologize for your fatherly instincts. Everything is fine." The words had come out of her mouth calmer than she had expected, considered her heart had almost stopped at the contact of her fingertip to his soft lips. It had been a simple impulse to stop him from rambling and being sorry all the time when there was nothing to be sorry for.

"Now can we please finally set up our spot somewhere?" Charlotte offered with a warm smile.

"Yes." Harry responded to her smile with holding out his unoccupied hand. Charlotte grabbed it without hesitating on the offer of physical touch.

Having a pretty lady on each side, Harry started walking towards a lesser crowded area of the beach, where they then proceeded to set up their spot for the afternoon.

Aria played quietly with her sand toys while Harry and Charlotte had picked up their conversation where they had left off on Wednesday at the pool. The words flowed back and forth between them, like they had taken inspiration from the rhythm of the waves softly breaking at the shore a few steps away. Charlotte freely shared some more background information on her family. When Harry asked about who she was closest with from her relatives, a sting hit her chest. Averting his attent gaze, Charlotte started fidgeting with the sand in her toes.

"My nana. She passed away last year of old age. She had often filled the space my mother sometimes couldn't because of her own issues. She also had been the only one not judging me whatsoever for my choice of studies and moving away. I called her at least once a week when she was still alive. Cooking was her favourite hobby, and she would always share her recipe of the week with me. I would take time on the weekend to cook it for myself. I still do that, I have all of them written in a notebook."

Charlotte's voice had gone quieter with every sentence. Her head rested on her knees, her gaze was straightforward, looking out on the water.

"That sounds wonderful. I guess she would be very happy that you honor her that way and make space for her in your daily life." Harry tried to find words of comfort, but he wasn't quite satisfied with what his brain had come up with on the spot. Grief was a very personal topic, and he didn't want to intrude. He tried to feel out the vibes Charlotte was sending off. "What's your favourite?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Charlotte hadn't noticed that she had zoned out for a moment.

"Your favourite recipe. You talked about how your nana would always share her recipe of the week on your phone calls and you would then make it for yourself and how you continued that after she passed away."

Charlotte turned towards him to find him looking at her with a soft expression, genuinely curious for the answer.

"I actually have three. Green beans, potato soup and plum dumplings."

"What are plum dumplings? I've never heard of that before."

"It's a german dish. Her parents were from Germany, and her cooking was heavily influenced by that. You make a brioche-type of dough with yeast, then form little balls out of it and put sliced plums into them. They are then cooked in hot, but not boiling, water and served with cinnamon and melted butter on top."

"Sounds delicious." Harry was intrigued. "But time-consuming, I assume. The dough has to rise for a while and then preparing all those dumplings."

"Yeah, it does take a while, but I love doing that on Sundays. Relaxes me. You can come by someday and I prepare them for you."

"That is very kind of you. I would love that." During the last few minutes, Harry had started to entangle their fingers and caressing Charlotte's hand. When he looked up, a cheeky smile had formed on her face.

Charlotte loved their slow pace. It gave her time to adjust to the temperature of the water washing around her ankles before she took some steps further towards the deeper end of the endless ocean.

A phone ringing bursted their bubble.

"Oh damn, that's mine. Would you mind watching Aria for a second while I take this? I promise to make it quick."