He remembered the events of the journey clearly, as though he was relieving them again; a scenario that he certainly didn't want to partake in. And yet the memories still came, haunting him even now….
He searched through his closet until he found it; his red blazer with the patch featuring Betsy Ross above his breast pocket. The yellow logo was an odd one to be sure, but it was a symbol of Delta Beta, meaning "The Unity of Honor and Life".
In the privacy of his bedroom, he reached into his closet and carefully removed the blazer from the hanger, carefully slipping the garment around his shoulders. It was much too tight, making him cringe when he realized that it no longer fit. Years of spending his evenings at Cheers, drinking a variety of alcoholic beverages, eating in the finest restaurants and enjoying a more relaxed lifestyle that transitioned nicely from Boston to Seattle had somehow managed to ruin his once sleek frame.
He'd only been wearing the jacket for a few minutes when he found that he had to take it off before the lack of circulation got the best of him. But he was determined to bring it with him and make it work. It was a tradition among Delta Beta members to wear their jackets at every type of gathering; most notably reunions in which the billionaire JP Buchanan would be in attendance and he wasn't about to miss out on this opportunity. Buchanan was the head of the largest medical school in Boston and Frasier wasn't about to sacrifice tradition by wearing just an ordinary (although stylish) suit. Only his Delta Beta blazer would do. The jacket might have been a bit snug but it was perfect for the occasion.
He opened his briefcase, smiling with satisfaction as he removed the stack of high-gloss business cards; the ones that read "Frasier Crane, Professional Psychiatrist."
It was true that he could have flaunted his Seattle popularity, for thanks to KACL 880 AM he was a fixture in almost every Seattle home, even if only through the airwaves. But when it came to Harvard Medical School, he regarded himself as an equal. Still, it never hurt to make a good impression. He packed quickly and said his goodbyes to Niles, Daphne and his dad. And suddenly he was on his way.
He was overjoyed at the prospect of seeing his fraternity brothers; Thomas, Berry and Lyle after so many years… years that had somehow turned into decades, but he wouldn't let himself feel any sort of unease. He was successful, smart and proud, and rightly so. And he couldn't wait to show the world (or at least the attendants of the Harvard reunion) what he'd become. He patted his breast pocket in which he'd carefully placed the high-gloss business cards and hurried into the hotel lobby.
The place was magnificent; even more so than the hotel uptown where he'd booked his stay weeks ago. Perhaps he should have taken the suggestion of the letter that was enclosed with the Harvard invitation and stayed there instead. The rates were certainly cheaper, but the lobby was much more impressive. For a split second he wondered if Lilith was even aware that this fabulous hotel existed. He made a mental note to tell her some day. But the thought of his ex-wife was quickly shrugged off, replaced with the words of wisdom that his little brother had given him; advice that he never dreamed would come from the mouth of Niles Crane;
"Just be you, Frasier." Niles had said, putting his hand on Frasier's shoulder. "You'll be fine. You have every right to be proud of what you've accomplished."
In the lobby Frasier looked into the full length mirror that occupied one enormous wall and smiled in amusement at his appearance. The blazer was by all accounts much too tight and he did look absolutely ridiculous, not to mention the fact that he could barely breathe unless he left the jacket unbuttoned which was definitely a faux pas when it came to the Crane rule of stylishness. But in this case he was willing to make a huge exception. He just hoped that his success story of his life thus far would prove to draw people's interest away from the fact that his jacket left much to be desired. Even if his somewhat-odd appearance was noticed, he and his fraternity brothers would surely get a good laugh out of the situation and really, wasn't that the point of reunions, to laugh and have a good time?
With a smile on his face and his heart beating in anticipation he moved toward the banquet room, graciously accepting his name tag from the cordial volunteers sitting at long tables. They checked him in and he made his way to the banquet room doors. As soon as he thrust them open, he felt as though he'd stepped back in time.