Author's Note: Thanks to Andrea (iloveromance) for writing "Life is Good." Her story more than lived up to what I had suggested! I had a few thoughts on what Martin and Daphne discussed while they were out, so I knew I had to do something with that!
"Come on, Mr. Crane. I'd like to have lunch before it's dinner time!" Daphne said in exasperation to her new patient.
Martin gave Daphne a death stare. She'd only been his therapist for a week now, but she was already ordering him around as though they'd been working together for years.
"I should think you'd be a bit more grateful that we came here, the way you and your son carry on," Daphne retorted upon seeing his glare.
Martin sighed and began walking faster, as much as his hip would allow. Daphne told the maî·tre d' that they needed a table for two. "Right this way," the man said, leading them to an outdoor table. They each ordered their food. Since the small cafe was nearly deserted, their entrees were brought quickly. Martin began eating in silence.
"If you don't mind my saying so, I think you're being rather unpleasant," Daphne remarked.
"Oh, sorry," Martin said sarcastically. "I guess it's hard to be in a good mood when your son's driving you up the wall. As usual." He rolled his eyes. "Frase was the one who wanted me to move in, said he wanted to 'get to know me better.' Then he complains that he has no privacy."
"I know your son's a bit difficult, but that doesn't mean that living with him has to be bad, does it? Dr. Crane obviously loves you, or else he would've put you into one of those God-awful nursing homes. I used to work in one of those places, and trust me, you don't want to know what they're like!"
"Oh, so I should be grateful I'm not being held prisoner in some retirement home? Now who's being unpleasant?" Martin said.
"All I'm saying is that your life isn't as bad as you think. Who knows, you might not even be living with Dr. Crane for that long. I mean, if the right woman were to come along..." She smiled at him knowingly.
"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," Martin said. "What woman's going to want a retired cop with a bad hip? What gets me is, if I just had a few more dollars, I could probably afford a place of my own. You could come too, if you didn't mind living with an old man like me."
Daphne felt a rush of compassion for him. She reached across the table to squeeze his hand. "I don't mind living with you. I think a woman might find you charming, under the right circumstances. As for your hip, that can only stop you if you let it. The important thing is not to stay shut up in Dr. Crane's apartment all day. Once you get used to your new surroundings, I'm sure things will be a whole lot better. For you and for Dr. Crane. It's just that it's a new adjustment for all of us."
"Geez, Daph, you're starting to sound like a shrink on the radio," Martin quipped. "I get enough of that mumbo-jumbo from my sons, I don't need it from you!"
At the mention of Mr. Crane's sons, as in plural, Daphne saw an opportunity to change the subject. "When do I get to meet this other son of yours?"
Martin shrugged. "Any day now, probably. He and Frase are always going off to the opera, or to a museum. They're good boys, and I'm proud of them, but we've got nothing in common. Never have. And Niles' wife..." Martin trailed off, shuddering at the mere thought of Maris.
"I'm sure she's not that bad," Daphne said.
"Trust me, she is."
Daphne decided to keep to the subject of the mysterious other Crane brother. "What does your son look like? Does he resemble Dr. Crane?" She found it a bit odd to say it that way, since both of the men were doctors, and so they would both rightfully be called "Dr. Crane." If she stayed here long enough, that detail alone might drive her bloody crazy.
"Yeah, the boys do look a bit alike," Martin said. "Hang on, I know I've got a picture of Niles in here." He took out his wallet. In it were several pictures of Eddie. Also one old, faded, black-and-white photo of Hester. The love of his life, who he knew he'd never forget. And then one photo of each of his sons. Both pictures were from Niles' and Maris' wedding. In all the time that Frasier was in Boston, that had been the only time father and son had seen each other face-to-face. When he found the photo of Niles, he handed his wallet over to Daphne.
"He's handsome," Daphne said, smiling. Her heart skipped a beat the moment she saw him. All at once, her psychic powers told her it would be worth getting to know him.
"What's the matter?" Martin asked. Daphne looked up at him in confusion. "Well, you're just sitting there, staring at a photo of my son. Geez, just give me my wallet back already!"
"All right, here's your bloody wallet. You'll notice none of your cash is missing!" Daphne snapped, in an attempt to hide her disappointment at having to give it back. For some odd reason, she felt the need to memorize every detail of that photograph.
"Thank you," Martin said, returning it to his back pocket. He realized then that Daphne wasn't really such a bad person. She did have a point about Frasier sticking him in some nursing home. And it probably wouldn't kill him to try to get to know his sons better. After all, they were his last remaining connection to Hester. "I'm sorry for being so hard on you, Daph. It's just that I'm not really used to having people telling me what to do."
Daphne squeezed his hand once again. "That's all right. You haven't been nearly as trying as me brothers. I know I push you a bit too much sometimes. It's just that you've got to keep active if you ever want that hip of yours to improve. I know it doesn't seem like it now, but there might come a day when you're glad you can walk around...or even do other things."
Martin was still skeptical of Daphne's claims that there might one day be another woman in his life. Hester had been one of a kind. No way would he ever find someone to compare. But then he remembered something else. The day before he'd responded to that homicide call, he'd never had any idea that he'd fall in love with a criminal psychologist. They'd shared a single glance over the body of a victim, and that had been that. As he and Daphne left the cafe, Martin began to feel something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope. Life could change in an instant, and he still had a lot of instants left.
The End
