Epilogue

See chapter 1 for Disclaimer, Spoilers, and Warning

Sam made her way quietly into the kitchen from the sunny garden near the churchyard of her uncle's vicarage. She slipped through the kitchen and peeked around the doorway into the living room. Her heart swelled at the sweet sight before her. On the couch lay her husband and daughter, curled together, sound asleep. The child's hand gently resting on the nose she had never lost fascination with since its severe injury over 3 years before. Sam smiled at the endearing display of love the two shared. Christopher had Tina cradled safely to his chest. He had angled himself to keep her between him and the couch. One hand protectively resting on her back, his other hand supporting her little head; fingers threaded through her waves. Savoring the feeling of complete contentment, Sam absently massaged a hand around her midsection and lingered a while watching the sleeping pair. Both had been in need of a nap, of that she was certain.

Christopher and Aubrey had sat in the parlor, the night before, discussing their early morning fishing plans. Tina had climbed onto Christopher's lap and pleaded her case to be included in the outing.

Although she was only four years old Tina presented a strong argument to her case. She had learned the art well, in long suffering practice, with Foyle. He had decided the only way to live with the two inquisitive females was to volley his own questions that would cause them to pause and think.

Christopher had listened carefully, offering challenges to some of Tina's stronger points; taking care not to make them too daunting. After several minutes, of give and take debate, the two sat in quiet reflection for a moment; each pondering the question at hand. Foyle took a moment to silently confer with Sam and Aubrey; a quick glance to each received no objection. Tina wiggled a bit, gave a little sigh, and tapped him on the chest. He didn't immediately look at her, only because he happened to be especially fond of her final attempt anytime she truly wanted to persuade him to agree to one of her requests. What she didn't know, was in those times, he had already decided she would get what she wanted. None of the adults had any doubt she would be joining the two men, the next morning, the moment she placed a hand on either side of Christopher's face and carefully tilted his head so his gaze met hers. As he had anticipated, the smaller version of her mother tilted her own chin down so she could roll her eyes up to look at him. Then came his favorite part of her persuasion tactics: she scrunched her face so tight she could barely see or speak and asked, firmly with just the slightest hint of a pout in her voice, "Please, Da?"

Sam smiled at the memory of the prior evening and the many times she had witnessed similar exchanges between her husband and daughter. As she moved back into the kitchen she thought about the triumphant return of the fishing trio at mid-morning.

The pride in her daughter's eyes, as she announced her great personal achievements of the morning, warmed Sam deeper than the early summer sun. Tina, shrouded in the shadow of her Da's old green fishing Trilby floating about on her waves of hair, came running up to hug her legs, "Mummy! I done well! I done well! Da told me I done well. I catched two fishes aaannnddd I didn't talk to any of them!" Foyle and Aubrey caught up to the two and the former set his creel down on the garden table before he retrieved his hat from the little girl's red hued blonde tresses. Aubrey opened one of the creels to set about cleaning the fish. "Da said that's better that Andrew ever did!" Foyle scooped the chattering girl into his arms and cleared his throat. She turned her face to him, "Right, Da?"

"Right!" He confirmed and then smirked at her.

She huffed at him and tilted her head, "What?"

The hint of gravity in her stern question caused him to try for an equal level of seriousness. "Two things." He held up his free hand and extended a finger. "First, you caught two fish. 'Caught' not 'catched' and more than one fish the word is still fish, you just add how many before the word; two fish, four fish, a whhhooollle buuunnnnch of fish."

She giggled at his exaggeration of the words.

"So, what did you do?"

Tina's chest puffed out with pride and she carefully said, "I caught tttwwwoo fish!" Her eyes widen as she stretched the word two in a very close approximation of his exaggeration. Then she began to wiggle and giggle as he tickled her briefly.

"Very cheeky, young lady."

Purposely misunderstanding, she learned over and kissed his cheek.

Foyle gave her a short nod, "Thank you."

Her little hand patted the kiss in, "You're welcome, Da."

Sam refocused the two, "And, the second thing?" she asked, knowing full well what it would be.

Tina looked between the two and then fixed her attention on her da, "What is the second thing?"

"What I said to you was 'Well done'."

Her large, soft, brown eyes held firm to his; silently asking for more information.

Foyle suddenly realized he wasn't sure how to explain that one in a way that would make sense to her.

Glancing to Sam expectantly, he regretted the attempt to appeal for help the moment she opened her mouth; her expression had warned him, just before she said, "Well, she couldn't have said she was well done." Her feigned innocence clearly conveying, he started the explanation and was on his own to finish it.

"Uhm, let's see." He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. "Alright. First, your mum is correct you wouldn't say you were 'well done'. Aaaand second, this is a bit more complicated, uhm, that is harder, to explain than 'caught' and 'fish'."

Tina nodded solemnly and reached out to pat him on the shoulder. Her compassion for the challenge he was facing evident in her reassuring action and patient expression.

Foyle clicked his lips, took a deep breath and did his best. "When I said, 'Well done, Tina!' It meant what you did, in catching the fish, was done very well."

She shifted her expression as if to say 'I hope you're gonna say more than that'.

"I said this was hard to explain. I'm not finished." He gently admonished.

The little girl gave an approving nod, "Good. 'Cause I don't understand yet."

Another click of his lips, "Rrrrright. Sometimes we say something to you and we're talking about what you did and sometimes we're talking about how you did it. Understand that?" He asked hopefully.

She gave him an apologetic look and spoke slowly, "I don't think so."

Sam put a hand to her mouth and turned away, but not before her husband saw the amusement dancing in her eyes. She retreated to the kitchen and spied on the two from the open window.

Foyle refused to give up. If Tina was willing to patiently wait on his explanation; he would damn well give her his best efforts. "Alright. What you do. When mummy and I are clearing table and you help bring the crockery to the sink, that's a nice thing you do. Aaaand, how you do. Is the way you help bring in the crockery. You don't pick anything up until you are out of your chair and standing on both feet. You hold the dishes carefully, walk slowly and set them down gently. Those are all how you help."

Tina nodded very slowly when he arched one brow in question.

"Sssso, what you do is help. And how you do it is carefully."

Another brief arch of the brow from him, followed by a slightly faster nod from her.

"Today, what you did was caught a fish. But how you did it was 'well done'."

"Sooooo?" She pushed both brows up trying to show she still needed more information.

Her emulations of him always touched his heart and made him melt with deep affection for her all over again.

"So, 'well done' you for not being afraid to pull the fish up from the water and for not being afraid to touch it when you were helping to get it in the net. And, when you tell someone about it you could say, 'Da said I fish well'."

He waited.

After a short pause she sighed deeply and said in a decidedly sympathetic, if somewhat pitying, tone, "That is really hard to 'splain. 'Cause it's really hard to understand."

He nodded in response but felt as though he should shake his head instead. Foyle found he was at a loss for another way to try and explain the point to her. He was sure he was overthinking the explanation; but knowing that just made his failed attempts seem that much worse.

Aubrey stepped away from the garden table, wiping his hands on a towel before pushing it into the pocket on his apron. He stepped toward the pair, and stood a little way behind Christopher, to face Tina alone.

"My dear, Tina. I believe what your da is saying is, what you did was fish and how you did it was well. So, you tell people you 'fish well' not you 'done well'."

Comprehension thoroughly infused her features, "Oh!" She exclaimed full of excitement in finally understanding. Then she turned to Christopher and said with a hint of surprise, "That wasn't hard, Da."

"Noooo. No, it wasn't" He looked over his shoulder, "Thank you, Uncle Aubrey." He said with part gratitude and part dramatic flair.

The vicar did his best to suppress his humor at the younger man's reaction, "Not at all, Christopher. Always happy to assist."

Foyle bent and set Tina on her feet. "Go ask mummy for an apron and then hurry back and help me clean the rest of the fish. Your uncle has just about finished the task."

The little girl darted into the house so quickly her words of acknowledgement were swallowed by the kitchen ahead of her.

Aubrey followed close behind her, his apron discarded on the garden table and a tray of cleaned fish in his hands. He however made certain his words carried back to Christopher; who was donning the apron at the garden table. "Probably best if I find her an old shirt to wear."

Surveying the mess about the table, Foyle concurred, "Good idea."

He had worked his way through all but the last two fish by the time his 'girls' emerged from the kitchen.

Sam escorted Tina to the garden table as she explained, "Uncle Aubrey has gone to clean up and have a lie down before lunch."

Christopher gave her a nod, as he pulled his lips tight and fought to suppress the laughter that threatened when he took in Tina's appearance. She still had her shoes and socks on, but it appeared the rest of her outer clothes had been traded for an old button down shirt of Audrey's that had been put on her backwards and buttoned to the neck; which sat in a gaping ring on her shoulders. The sleeves were folded tightly and fell between her elbows and wrists. And the finishing touch was the towel Sam had tied as a snood about Tina's soft wavy hair.

He winked at Sam, over the snood covered head and then asked Tina in a strictly business tone, "Ready, my girl?"

She smoothed her 'apron' and confirmed proudly, "Ready!"

Sam found a chair and pretended to be reading a book as she listened intently and stole covert glances at the fish cleaning lesson. She had to suppress her laughter several times. The most difficult point for Sam was when Tina tried, without success, to convince Christopher she was 'big enough', 'old enough', 'careful enough' and a half dozen other 'enoughs' to use the knife. He finally prevailed by declaring the 'newest and youngest one to come fishing was never allowed the knife parts of fish cleaning', their job was always the 'dumping out parts'; first into the bucket and then from the bucket to the compost pile. The disgruntled grunt, Tina gave him, was nearly Sam's undoing; laughter threatened to strangle the breath from her. She was well aware her daughter had employed that particular expression of disapproval from her infancy; not realizing her Da had long been immune to its effects. Sam raised her book higher to hide her face and hoped any sounds that escaped her would be attributed to her reading; not the spying she was trying to hide.

Sam paused in her lunch preparations when she felt the baby kick for the first time. reflexively, she turned to seek out Christopher to share in the experience. As she remembered he was sleeping she paused, mid-turn, but a movement caught her eye. Completing the turn she saw her husband leaning in the doorway; he had obviously been studying her for a while. Her bright expression brought him close to her with an expectant look on his face. She took his hand and fanned it out where she had felt the kick, and leaned back againdt his chest.

Staring down at their hands she spoke in a hushed tone, to make the moment that much more private; intimate for them alone, "The baby just kicked a moment ago. It's the first time, so it might not happen again, right awa ... Oh!"

Before she could ask if he felt it too, she felt his fingers tenderly drift closed and back open in a repeated, circular type, motion. His head tilted against hers and she could see his face from the corner of her eye. A clear expression of wonderment was uppermost, interwoven amongst a myriad of emotions that graced his features. They stood like that for a while longer, waiting for another kick.

When it seemed the baby was done moving for the moment, Christopher said, "Andrew want's a boy."

"Andrew wants!?"

"Yes. Says I'm already out numbered when he isn't around."

"Oh. And you, what do you want?"

"Even counts would be fine. Bbbbbut you know, I'm very fond of 'my girls'."