Auld Lang Syne and Second Chances

By WritePassion

The sun wasn't up yet, but it was light enough to see the gentle waves rolling in and gliding up onto the packed sand as Sam strolled the beach looking for the perfect fishing spot. Today, considering where his mind was, he wasn't so sure he'd catch anything in an aquarium, much less the ocean. Little Samuel's first Christmas had become a better memory than he would have anticipated with his dad visiting, and it had all been very nice and pleasant, but there was only so much Sam could take. He had to get out for awhile and blow off some steam, which is what brought him to the shore.

He saw a big fish jump out of a wave and decided that he found his spot. With quick, methodical precision, he assembled his pole and prepared to cast out his line. As if on cue, the seagulls began to screech and circle overhead. Sam shook his head. Couldn't he ever fish without those parasites bothering him and ruining a perfectly peaceful morning?

"Hi, Son."

He turned and found his father approaching with his own pole and gear. Strike two on a perfect day. "Dad. How'd you find me?"

"Same way I tracked you down in Miami," he replied with the trademark Axe wink. He chuckled. "Seriously, I asked Yvette where you went. She told me."

"Great." Sam sighed. Forget trying to think, when the man who instigated his dark thoughts stood less than three feet away.

"Hey, if it's an issue, I won't bother you." He turned to move farther up the coast.

"No, Dad." Sam changed the tone of his voice to something less standoffish. "It's okay, you can fish here. It's a good spot."

Samuel Sr. grinned. "Thanks, Sammy."

He hadn't heard his father call him that in over 40 years. That childish nickname brought back a lot of emotions he didn't want to deal with, and until his father came back into his life he'd done a pretty good job of it if he had to say so himself. Unfortunately, he had no choice now. With the cause of so much heartache standing a few yards away, bitterness stood like a sentinel in the gap between them. Neither of them spoke for a long time. It was as if they were playing a game of chicken, wondering who would fire the first shot.

"Sammy...I don't know how many more times I can say I'm sorry."

"It doesn't change what happened." The words came out clipped as he cast his line, paused, and reeled it in.

"No, it doesn't, and that's why I want to stick around, to try to make up for lost time." He turned slightly toward his son. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No. Better late than never, I guess." Sam cast his line out again, focusing on it rather than the contrite look in his father's eyes.

"You know, you're a hypocrite."

"What?" Sam took his attention away from his line and glared at him.

"You're angry with me for leaving you and your mom alone so much, but what did you do to Amanda?"

He shrugged and replied, "I was serving my country, Dad. I was involved in some heavy stuff, and it's not like I could just go home on regular leave like everybody else. She understood that."

"Did she?"

"Yeah...she said it was okay."

"Obviously not, or she wouldn't have looked for...comfort...elsewhere."

Sam bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying something he would really regret, but it was useless. Like a broken valve his lips spewed a tart reply. "Like you were any better. Did Mom say she 'understood' too? No, because you were never around to ask if she was okay with it." He took a breath to calm himself. "She tried to be strong for me, but I know. I know it hurt her."

Samuel Sr. spoke in a voice thick with emotion. "You don't have to tell me, boy. That's one of the things Ginny and I talked about the last time I saw her. I finally understood what I'd done, how I wasted her life, and I felt like I died inside, but your mom, she was like an angel...exactly why I fell in love with her in the first place." He sniffled and blinked back the tears that threatened to escape. He had to be strong. He couldn't cry in front of Sam. "I didn't mean to be such a rotten father. I just wasn't equipped to be one, period."

"So you ran away. Makes a hell of a lot of sense."

"What's your excuse, then? You had a beautiful wife waiting for you." Something tugged on his line and he started reeling it in. "You turned the mission into your mistress, that's what you did."

"Okay, maybe I did. So what? I don't intend to make the same mistake again." He glanced at his father's line. A small fish flipped around on the hook, and Samuel Sr. quickly freed it and tossed it back into the sea.

"I see. It's okay for you to learn from your mistakes and go on, but for me, my mistakes are something I'll have to pay for as long as I live. Is that the way it works?"

Suddenly, Sam didn't feel so self-righteous. Instead of admitting it aloud that his father was right, he asked, "If you were sorry, why didn't you come home?"

"It was too late. And it was too late for you and Amanda, too."

Pain filled Sam's eyes, and a softness entered his voice. "I never meant for the mission to become more important than her."

His father nodded in agreement. "Son, you and I are going 'round and 'round here on something that we both did and lived to regret it. We can bicker back and forth all day and point fingers, but it doesn't do any good. The only solution is this...a second chance." He smiled slightly. "You've got yours with Yvette, and you're doing quite nicely. All I'm asking is that you allow me the same."

"Dad, if you only knew the years I blew trying to make things right...ah, who am I kidding?" Sam shook his head and hauled in his line. It was empty. As he set the end of his pole in the sand, he continued, "I went through a lot of women over the years, Dad, and I even loved a few of them. Or so I thought at the time. But I kept searching for something more." He turned and faced his father. "Security. I needed security, so I thought I'd find it in rich women, but then when I realized that in return they wanted a commitment, I couldn't give it. I didn't have a good role model when it came to that."

"Oh great, just throw that back on me. I'm not even going to say I'm sorry, because I've already said it a dozen times and you won't accept it!" Samuel Sr. reeled in his line and stood like a mirror image of his son, albeit a little shorter. "I won't let you make me feel guilty about it anymore! Your mother has forgiven me, and I've forgiven myself. It's the past, dead and buried. Just give it a rest, will ya?" He cocked an eyebrow and poked Sam in the chest. "Maybe you need to ask forgiveness for your own sins, and then you can move on."

His father's words hit him like a cement brick between the eyes. He was right. All this time, Sam had been trying to put words to what he was feeling, and in a few minutes his father gave them to him. He stopped him before he could pick up his tackle box and leave. "You're right, Dad. It's just...it sounds easier than it actually is."

"I know. I've been there, Sammy." He clamped a hand on his son's shoulder, paused, and gave him a crooked smile. "Hey, you wanna get some breakfast?"

"Yeah, sure." He gave him a wary look. "You buying?"

Samuel Sr laughed. "If it'll get you to talk."

"Dad, I've been beaten to within an inch of my life for state secrets and wouldn't budge. What makes you think an omelet at Carlito's will make me open up?"

"If you don't, you're going to live your life with this cloud hanging over your head, dampening every relationship you have. You've got a good thing going with your wife and child." He paused, and a desperate look crossed his face. "Don't mess it up like I did. Don't go down the same road as your old man."

"Okay, you've got a point. Let's go." Neither of them said a word as they walked to the car. When they reached it and he threw his gear into the trunk, he motioned for Samuel Sr to put his inside as well. "Did you drive here?"

"Nope. I walked. It's not that far."

"Ah, yeah. I guess I just didn't feel like walking today." He unlocked the doors and waited until his father got in. He was still chewing on everything the older man said. As he sat in the driver's seat, Sam spoke. "You know, Dad...I didn't want to be like you, and yet I repeated the same pattern. I guess I'm just as mad at myself as I am you."

Samuel Sr. grinned, put his arm around his son's shoulders, and laughed. The fact that he didn't shrink away was progress. "I think I tried to say something along those lines. Maybe I wasn't clear enough."

"Oh, you were clear on a lot of things. Like crystal." Sam started the car and drove them to Carlito's. It wasn't far, but silence wrapped around them the entire way. They got out, waited for a couple cars to pass, and crossed the street side by side. Sam silently wished that Michael and Fi would be there so he wouldn't have to sit alone with his dad and eat crow, but they were nowhere to be found. They sat at the table he usually occupied with his friends, picked up the menu even though he knew it by heart, but then put it down and folded it on the table.

Samuel Sr. ordered, and as Sam gave the server his usual order, the older man watched his son intently. There was something percolating behind his eyes. He had that same look just before their confrontation. When the server was out of earshot, he asked, "What's bothering you, Son?"

Sam chuckled nervously and shook his head. He absently fanned the edge of the menu as he glanced around, everywhere but at the man sitting across from him. Then he squinted and rubbed his eyes, and when he opened them he stared at his father. "You're right, like you said, the past is dead and buried." The corner of his mouth tipped up into a smile. "I never realized how wise you are. I was too busy looking at your faults."

His father smiled. "Keep it up, and someday you'll be as smart as me. But in some ways, you're wiser, Sammy, because you found your second chance before I found mine. I envy you that."

"There's always time left, Dad." He raised his coffee and so did his father, and they touched the bottoms together. "What are you going to do after the holidays?"

"I don't know. I was thinking of hanging around Miami. Do you mind?"

"Why should I?" Sam grinned. "There's plenty of room for more than one Sam Axe in Miami."

Samuel Sr. laughed. "This is going to be a great new year. I can just feel it."

"Me too, Dad. Me too." He took a sip of his coffee and added, "You're welcome to stay with us for the time being."

"That's really generous of you, Son."

Sam shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah, well, Eve would rip me a new one if I didn't offer."

"It'll give us a chance to get to know one another better, strip away the preconceived notions."

"Yeah. I think I'm ready to let those go. Besides, I think Samuel likes having his grandpa around."

"I'm glad. I can see what I missed out on with you."

"Well, that's what second chances are all about , right?"

They raised their cups again, and Samuel Sr. glanced up at the lightening sky and silently thanked God for the blessing of second chances.