That's Enough Andrew
Disclaimer: still own nothing/profit nothing, never try to. Strictly enjoy writing and pleased others are entertained by my efforts.
Spoilers: Yep! At least a half dozen; stopped counting after that. I always say any episode is game.
Author's Note: Once again my gratitude goes out to eyesforfiction for the pre-read, sounding board and feedback.
Chapter One
Sam had quit working with Foyle after Hilda Pierce's funeral, when she had informed him she was 'PWP'; pregnant without permission, and had asked him to be the baby's godfather. A couple of months later she suffered a miscarriage and endured some complications. She was forced to finally tell Adam of the previous miscarriages and that she would not be able to have children; as a result their marriage soon began to fall apart. Within six months' time Adam had moved out and told Sam it was his intent to get a divorce; the sooner he moved out, deserting their marriage, the sooner the 3 year period would start and the sooner they would be divorced.
Foyle had been aware of the problems in the marriage and tried his best to always make himself available to Sam with a shoulder to cry on anytime it all got to be too much for her. Through the separation, legally it was desertion, and ultimately the divorce Foyle and Sam remained friends. On and off during that period Foyle made several attempts to talk Sam into returning to work with him. She held a myriad of jobs over those years; never quite finding the right fit. Foyle attributed some of her job bouncing to Sam's need to figure out what she wanted to do after her divorce. He did not push her to make any decisions regarding that future point in time. To his thinking she had enough to deal with in the moment and there would be plenty of time for her to make up her mind on other matters once her marriage was officially terminated.
A couple of months after the divorce was final, Foyle tried again to talk Sam into returning to work with him. She promised she would think about it; but, was finding her new job to be more interesting the longer she was there. At nearly six months on the job, he took that as an encouraging sign. Especially in light of the fact that it was the longest she had held any job; aside from working with him.
Foyle was unaware that Sam had begun working for his son, Andrew. The Foyle men had agreed to meet for lunch. Andrew had invited his dad to lunch on a Monday. Not a frequent event but not an entirely unusual occurrence either. Being fully aware of his father's practice of arriving to appointments early; Andrew sent Sam down to the basement archives for some files. He knew his dad did not know she worked for him and he did not want Sam to know his dad was coming to the office; at least not until he was ready for her to know.
Seating his dad in a chair; so his back was to the office door, Andrew propped the door open just enough to see down to the secretarial pool. Sam would have to pass that area on her way back to his office. He sat across from his father so he could keep watch for Sam's return. While he waited he started strategically probing for information on his dad's life.
When his son's questions veered to the topic of Foyle's love life he leveled a gaze at him and firmly stated, "That's enough, Andrew."
With the precision of a son who had well practiced the art of inquiry with his father, Andrew kept skirting the topic without actually mentioning it again.
That is until he asked after Sam and his dad said, "She's doing as well as can be expected under her current circumstances."
Andrew commented, "Ever think you could improve circumstances for her?" The implication that there could something more between his father and Sam clear in the way he posed the question.
Foyle looked at his son as though he were speaking in a foreign language.
Having spotted Sam heading toward his office, Andrew scrambled to think of something else when his dad did not rise to the bait of his statement. He was well aware his previous ill treatment of Sam, so many years before, could still be a point of agitation to his father.
Andrew took a calculated risk, "I think maybe I'll ask her out. Since you won't."
Foyle leaned forward in his chair, leveled and unwavering look on his son and spoke in a slow measured tone, "Sam has had enough trouble from men lately." He stood as he employed a stern tone; an unmistakable warning edge to his quiet voice, "You stay away from Sam!"
Just as Foyle stood, Sam pushed the door open further and walked into Andrew's office at a brisk pace with an arm load of file folders; nearly colliding with Foyle. Positive she had to have heard him; Foyle immediately began to turn red. Sam had only heard the last sentence but with his reaction to her presence; she was sure there had been something more to it.
Andrew tried to explain; he started with what his dad had said right before telling him to stay away from her. That caused Foyle more embarrassment and he attempted to get Andrew to stop; again, to no avail.
Finally, giving up on halting his son directly, Foyle opted to try interrupting him instead and looked to Sam as he too started to apologize. "I'm sorry …"
She stopped him, "It's alright, Andrew knows all about the problems I've had with Adam. But, thank you for looking out for me."
Andrew said a silent prayer that his plan would work and hastily started his own apology, "Sorry, Sam. I shouldn't make jokes about asking you out. …"
Foyle turned an incredulous gaze to his son and began speaking before Andrew finished the apology, "You were making a joke?! Andrew how could you?"
The younger Foyle ploughed ahead, as though his dad had not uttered a word, "… But, I knew dad was hedging and I thought I could get him to show his hand. And, well, he kinda did. Don'tcha think?"
Andrew's open and expectant expression reinforced his words; he had played them and was both proud of himself but also nervous about their reactions.
Foyle stared at his son, awaiting an answer to his question; but, Andrew's words caught up to him and he began with a stammer, "Andrew, ah, er, you, ah ... What?!"
Andrew opened his mouth to repeat himself but his father, whose mind caught up to his mouth, interjected, "No! Stop. Never mind. I can't believe … Yes, unfortunately, I can believe you just did that. Because you have a history of such …" he waved his hand between them and gave his son a look that said 'You know what you've done. Again.'
Andrew shrugged, and said rather meekly, "Sorry, dad."
Foyle glared at him, clearly conveying his doubt of his son's sincerity, before striving to gain control of the situation. His voice surprisingly calm and quiet, "No, you aren't. You know as well as I do you were trying, once again, to get information out of me that is none of your business." He held his son's eyes daring him to deny the assertion.
Andrew held firm under the gaze for several seconds; but, then admitted softly, "I was. But, not for the reason you think. It wasn't for curiosity sake, dad. It was because I know…" he faltered under his father's continuous gaze and swallowed hard before continuing, "That is I thought…"
His father's look softened minimally into a questioning expression and Andrew began to have even greater difficulty voicing his challenge. "Dad you, I know you care about Sam and have always looked out for her."
Foyle's face relaxed the slightest bit in acknowledgement that his son had stated a fact.
Andrew took courage from that and charged ahead, "But, lately, when you talk about Sam and the things that she has been going through you get, that is, well, you seem to be angry. Like you can't stand not being able to protect her from the pain she's going through. You fume and huff, and well, I just think there's more there than you will admit to yourself ... or to Sam."
The steely eyes of his father were back; the gaze grew more intense.
Andrew braved his last assertion, rapidly, with a surprising note of conviction in his tone, "And, I think it's about time you did!"
He snatched up a couple of the folders Sam had set on his desk and nearly ran for his office door.
"There's a reservation for two, at one o'clock, at the Newlford, under the name Foyle. Enjoy your lunch you two."
He pulled the door closed behind him as he darted through the doorway and down the hall, just short of a run.