At the Heart of It All
by Val McCaffery
Chapter 2 : What Remained Behind
"No, I'm just not going to do it, Frasier."
Frasier didn't like the sound of petulance that had crept into Niles' voice.
"Niles, you're not thinking clearly on this issue," Frasier insisted.
"You should see someone about getting some help so you can deal with this. You know I'm right, you know I am making sense."
"That really doesn't matter. I don't care if it doesn't make sense. I don't care what other people say."
Frasier knew Niles was digging in his heels and the conversation was rapidly heading towards a dead end.
"Why can't you just leave me alone? I'm dealing with this the best that I can and right now I can't talk with anyone about how I really feel!" Niles might just as well have obstinately added "So there!" and stuck out his tongue.
Frasier sighed. He hadn't expected his suggestions to be dismissed with such derision so quickly. He had known that there was the potential for more than a few emotional landmines when he had headed over to his brother's place that evening, but suddenly he realised that he was being thrust into the unhappy role of the official family ogre.
In spite of his determination not to get angry with his younger sibling, Frasier found himself beginning to grind his teeth.
"Well, are you just going to wallow in a darkened room and cry yourself to sleep every night?" he asked with a tinge of sharpness. "I know for a fact that you spend waaay too much time in here, night after night, fondling her jewelry, reading the medical reports and doing God knows what else! It won't change the reality. It's time to move on with your life. Daphne's gone, Niles. She's gone and all the wishing and crying in the world won't bring her back!"
Niles winced at his brother's mention of the treasured locket. Frasier knew he wasn't playing fair to bring that up, but he rationalized that it was time to change tactics and use a little tough love. Something had to be done to counteract Niles' increasing isolation and the tea and sympathy routine hadn't been very effective. Niles had spent most of the last month since the funeral, holed up in the Montana having very little contact with the outside world, just rattling around in his big empty apartment, traversing well-trodden emotional territory.
"For God's sake Niles, you don't answer your phone, you won't return any of my messages. You never come over to visit Dad and me any more. You smell like a bottle of brandy and I'll wager that you have lost at least 15 pounds in the last month!" Frasier gulped a breath of air as he continued with his carefully rehearsed tirade. "You haven't darkened the doorway of your office in in, I don't know how long! That fellow, Dr. Barringer, who you got to temporarily take over your practice for a few weeks while you got through the funeral, well - he knows most of your patients better than you do by now!"
Niles sprang off the bed and headed towards the window. He folded his arms across his chest and turned his back on his brother. Of all the things mentioned in Frasier's lengthy harangue, Niles seemed especially stung by the remarks about his lack of professional dedication to his patients.
"I don't need this badgering right now, Frasier!" Niles' flinty voice pierced through the shadowy room. "You have no idea what I am going through!
This isn't a matter of me deserting my patients. I have tried to provide for them. It's just that I can't... I can't handle my own feelings right now - how do you expect me to handle anyone else's!"
"Niles!"
The frustration in Frasier's voice seeped through at first, but then he began to soften. "That's the point I've been trying to get through to you! If you just saw someone, then maybe your dolor would begin to heal. You don't want to always feel this miserable, do you? Therapy could help. You know that. It's the way you have helped countless others through their turmoil. If you talk to someone then maybe you could begin to ease yourself back into your work. And maybe you could let the rest of us back into your life... Please?"
Frasier's voice cracked with emotion. "We miss you, Niles. All of us – Dad, Roz, me... " A small, nervous chuckle escaped from his lips. "... Even Eddie!" He got up slowly from the chair and stood behind his brother. Frasier was close enough to smell the stale odour of hard liquor on Niles' breath.
Niles shook his head.
"I just can't, Frasier," he whined. "I have let her go, you know. I know
she's ... " He paused for a painful brief second. "dead. I buried her."
He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands furiously. His back was still towards Frasier as he spoke with a deliberate tone.
"The problem is, that once she was gone there was nothing left."
Those last two words fell like lead weights on Frasier's ears.
"Nothing left?" Frasier said with trepidation. " What do you mean? You have her memories, Niles. You'll always have those."
Niles slowed his words down even more, as if he were talking to a child. "Nooo, you don't understand. There was nothing left of me. I don't really exist any more. Don't you see? I'm gone, too."
"Niles, stop!" Frasier jumped in. "Don't talk like that!"
Frasier grasped his brother's shoulders and spun him around. He shook him once, as if to wake him from a slumber.
"Pull yourself together, man! I know how strong you can be. You've weathered emotional storms that were just about as bad as this. We all have! Dad survived Mom dying. I got through the divorce with Lilith and being rejected by Diane! You can do this! We'll get you all the help you need."
Frasier tried to calm himself by taking some deep breaths. He waited for a response from his brother.
Niles' mouth opened, as if he was about to say something, but no sound came out. His eyes were focused into the dim void of the bedroom just beyond his brother's form. Frasier watched Niles' strained face intently. He could see his jaw work laboriously, in almost a gagging movement. It was as if his brother was struggling to formulate his thoughts, but something was holding him back. For one brief moment Frasier thought Niles was having some type of a seizure.
"Niles?" he queried. "Niles, are you O.K.?"
Niles' eyes took on a hooded appearance. His body gave a little shudder and then, for the first time in months, he directed his gaze right at his brother.
"All right, Frasier," he said suddenly. "You've convinced me. I'll talk with someone. Just let me be, for tonight... I'm... I'm really... very tired."
Every intuitive sense in Frasier's soul told him his brother was lying, but that same feeling told him not to push it any further that night. He was sure Niles was on the verge of a complete nervous breakdown and Frasier didn't want to be the person responsible for sending him into that dangerous, uncharted territory.
"Alllll riiigghhty, then, we'll just leave it at that," The false cheer in Frasier's voice was like a bandage over an open wound. "Yes, we'll call it a night and I'll see you in the morning. O.K.?"
He patted Niles' shoulder with an avuncular, reassuring touch.
"Yes... in the morning," Niles sounded like a sleepwalker. "Let me show you out."
He glided past Frasier, out of the bedroom and down the stairs in almost a ghostly, fluid-like motion.
When Frasier caught up to him at the front door of the apartment, he could hear Niles muttering to himself. As soon as his brother was aware Frasier was within earshot, he ceased the one-sided conversation. This was a man on the brink.
"Good bye Frasier," he said quietly with an eerie calm. "And don't worry about me. I've always found a way to muddle my way through things."
This time it was Frasier who couldn't find the right words. He just nodded and made his exit quickly. If there wasn't going to be any honesty between them, then there was nothing more he could do.
Seeing Niles go through these automated responses just confirmed for Frasier how deep his brother's condition of denial was.
Once Frasier was in the elevator he let the breath out of his lungs and leaned against the wall.
"Muddle your way through things," Frasier thought. "I guess that is a good description of how things went about the time that Daphne died. It wasn't easy for any of us back then, but especially for you, you poor bastard! No wonder you still can't face such a grievous loss. It must have been like a living nightmare."
********************************************************************
"Be careful Daphne."
Daphne glanced at Niles with mild annoyance. Did he always have to pull his Mother Hen routine?
"Remember what your doctors said about wearing yourself out," Niles further cautioned.
"Niles, you are fussing again, sweetie!" Daphne scolded. "I also remember that they said I should try to get some exercise and move around, if I feel comfortable. Well, for now it feels comfortable, all right? I just want to make myself a cup of tea, like I used to."
She eased herself carefully out of the chair and headed slowly into the kitchen. Daphne noted a sigh of resignation from Niles as he trotted after her.
"I heard that, you know," she said in mock anger, but continued on her way. She knew full well that if she stumbled, or suddenly felt weak, he would be there right at her side to give her all the help she required.
"It's just that I changed a few things around in the cupboards," he defensively explained. "Since... you know... since you've been gone, and I thought that I could -"
"Niles, I think I can at least make myself a cup of tea," Daphne interrupted with mild exasperation. "That's one of the few things that we agreed was in my range of cooking expertise."
By the lack of response, Daphne knew he was pouting, even without having to turn around and look at his protruding lip and downcast eyes.
"And don't sulk," she said saucily. "I can't let you have your own way about everything. You'd get spoiled."
Still silence. Daphne wondered if she had actually hurt his feelings for real.
She turned around and held out her arms. "Oh! Come here, you silly sausage!"
"I'm so glad you're home, my love," he cooed, as he rocked her back and forth lightly.
Daphne kissed him on the tip of his nose. She could feel Niles inhaling her fragrance. Of all of her feminine charms, Daphne knew this was the one that hit Niles at his weakest point. She could hear Niles as he breathed deeply and closed his eyes. The intensity of this blissful moment hung in the air like a hummingbird.
Weeeeeeeeee!!!!
The tea kettle shrieked, interrupting their reverie. Daphne gave a bit of a start and turned her attention towards the task at hand. She poured the water, returned the lid to its resting-place on the pot and leaned against the counter. Sometimes the simplest of actions required a strength that she just couldn't muster anymore. Daphne flinched ever so slightly. Niles still had his arms around her waist, but backed off unexpectedly.
A little, dark cloud of doubt drifted into Daphne's mind.
"Niles, do you still find me attractive?" she probed suddenly.
"What type of a question is that! Of course I do!" he squeaked.
The agitation in her voice rose as she turned to face him and challenge his protestation.
"Well, I don't know why. I feel repulsive. My hair is beginning to fall out. I can't tell you the number of new bruises I have each morning. My skin feels so dry I could file my nails on it... that's if my nails would actually grow now."
Tears started to trickle down her cheeks.
"I feel soo... sooo... ug... ugly!" she sobbed, and with that she collapsed into his arms weeping.
"Oh Daphne!"
Niles caressed her cheek and pressed his face up against hers, as he spoke. "Quiet... quiet my love. You will always be the most desirable woman in the world to me! I love you so much! You know that."
She could feel his warm, salty tears on her skin. He punctuated each sentence with a kiss on her face.
"Hair is greatly overrated - look at me, I'm living evidence that you can lack hair and still be good-looking," he joked. "Bruises will heal. I'll be more than happy to massage you with all the creams you need to soften you up. You know I can't keep my hands off you and we can always get a good manicurist to give you some flashy nails, if you want to dig them into my back, darling!"
His gentle yet erotic humour soon had its expected effect and a tiny smile finally broke across her face.
"My word," she jested. "All that passion bubbling beneath such a prim exterior."
There was a pensive pause and Daphne bit her lip.
"Why did you back away from me just now, Niles?" she cautiously inquired.
"I thought that I might be hurting you," he said patiently. "You have to help me. Sometimes I'm not sure, dear, how much you can take. Be my guide. Tell me what your level of strength is and what you are feeling up to doing. We'll take things in stride, Daphne. I've missed you so much, but I can wait. I know it's been hard, but let's look on the bright side. You're home for a couple of weeks. That is a luxury we shouldn't waste on tears and feeling bad. Come on - I've got a surprise for you that I think you'll like."
He led her out of the kitchen, through the living room and into what had once been their study.
"Niles!" Daphne gasped. "It's a bedroom now!"
"I know," he said. "I didn't want you climbing all those stairs, so I had the room redone and moved our bedroom down to this floor. You like it?"
"How thoughtful!" she answered. "Yes, I definitely like it. Let's test out the bed."
Daphne saw a once familiar sparkle return to his eyes.
"Your tea will go cold," he quipped.
"That's all right," she said. "I'll just make some more. Remember? I'm an expert at it."
They carefully climbed up on the satiny bedcovering and snuggled together in each other's arms.
"Niles," said Daphne. "It feels so good to be in our own bed together, after all that's happened this past month. I'm so happy right now, just lying here with you."
"That's all that I could ever ask for," Niles replied, as she drifted off to sleep cradled by his whole body. "That's more than enough, my love."
It was so good to be back home, finally!
**********************************************************************
Deep in his heart, Niles understood that the next two weeks would have to serve as their island of respite, in a sea of miserable circumstance. He just didn't want to say it out loud, for both his and Daphne's sake.
Daphne had already suffered one week of intense chemotherapy in the first phase of her treatment. In clinical terms it was known as the "remission induction phase" and meant that her body was repeatedly purged by large doses of drugs designed to kill the rapidly spreading cancer cells.
Niles had pored over all her medical reports with an intensity that defied definition. He had memorized the entire list of drugs that she had to take to counteract the multitude of side effects that the chemo itself was responsible for. There were also numerous antibiotics to stop infections, the anti-vomiting agents to help her keep her food down, as well as something to fight the risk of toxins, caused by the rapid breakdown of the leukemia cells, from invading her system. The list covered three full pages.
The doctors had counseled Niles that when she came home to the Montana for her bone marrow recovery period, Daphne would still be feeling tired and weak, but would probably be very relieved to be finally out of the hospital. They had told him to think of it as a two-week holiday for her and to try to return to a normal routine, as much as possible. Doing this, the cancer therapist had said, would help strengthen her psychologically, as well as physically, for the next segment of her care. Niles was fully aware that Daphne needed a distinct change from the regimented atmosphere of the hospital.
And he saw to it that her needs were a top priority in every conceivable way. He pampered and cajoled her, with wonderfully fancy meals he made himself that were light enough for her nauseous tummy to tolerate and yet nutritious enough to help her regain her stamina. Niles catered to her every whim, buying her a whole new wardrobe that hid her bruising and made her feel feminine again. He arranged to have a hairdresser come to the apartment to cut Daphne's hair in a shorter bob that conveniently covered any hair loss that the chemotherapy had caused. But he offered so much more than just spoiling her with material luxuries. He was patient and understanding when she wanted to be alone. If he even suspected that she wanted a hug, Niles would intuitively appear from nowhere and supply the needed loving embrace. He tried his best to master the delicate balance of demonstrating to her a yearning for her attentions, without appearing to pressure her to any degree. He devoted his entire self to seeing to her every desire and expectation. In other words, he was just Niles, as Niles had always been.
With some relief from the chemo, Niles noticed that Daphne began to appear much stronger near the end of her second week at home. She seemed to be returning to a much more normal state of mind. Occasionally, he began to wonder if her sexual appetite would reawaken, as well. Without any overt clues on Daphne's part to guide him though, Niles just remained taciturn about his desires.
Then, one night without warning, things changed.
"Niles," Daphne said as she relaxed on the fainting couch after dinner, when he was clearing the table. "Come here, dearest. I want you."
"Yes, my love," he said as he came through the swinging door. He was wearing a pair of ridiculous yellow rubber gloves, but with his absolute paranoia about touching table scraps, they were standard issue in this Crane's kitchen. Daphne giggled.
"What do you want Daphne? Another pillow? Some more tea, perhaps? Just -"
"No, " she interrupted. "I just want you!"
"Ooooh!" he said, stretching out that vowel sound as only he could. "You want me!" His eyebrows fairly danced in delight and a particularly libidinous grin spread spontaneously across his face.
"Come sit beside me," she said seductively, as she patted the cushion. "But first take off those silly gloves!"
"Can I assume that won't be the only thing I'll be removing tonight?" he asked excitedly, tossing the gloves on the floor with wanton abandon.
"My, my, what a clever lad you are," she teased as she wrapped her arms around his neck and nibbled on his ear. "Let's start slow and just take our time. I want this to be perfect."
"Anything you say Daaaphne!" Niles purred.
They made love like they were suspended in time. This was one moment that would have to last a lifetime. Somewhere in the recesses of his subconscious he knew that this would be his most intimate way of saying goodbye to her, but he didn't want to dwell on that right now. To think about Daphne being gone just made him numb, in both a corporeal and a spiritual sense, and he wanted to remain keenly aware of every sensation during this cherished interlude. He let his body tell her what he could not say in words: "Adieu, my love". It was the one unspoken secret that they would share. It would be Daphne's most precious gift to Niles. Every tender move would have to be imprinted in his memory, tucked away for a time when he would need it the most. Every kiss, every stroke, every touch, would be safely recorded and stored in his heart. Niles let his eager fingers press gently up against her willing flesh. Muted noises of long-overdue pleasure escaped from Daphne's fervent lips. Their mounting passions took on a rhythmic ecstasy. When they were finally finished, they lay in sweet, sweaty exhaustion together, their naked, glistening forms draped by the soft bed linens. Niles gazed in wonderment at the woman next to him who was the perfect embodiment of his hopes, passions and dreams. He contemplatively reached out and let a strand of her silken hair slip though his fingers. He had never felt so sad and happy at the same time in his entire life. Daphne turned on her side, opened her large, brown eyes and traced his mouth with her finger, slowly, sensuously, lingering on his fleshy bottom lip. Niles let his hand languidly trail down Daphne's bare, smooth back. He obligingly drew her body up close to his. He could feel her heart pounding passionately against his chest.
"Thank you," she whispered in his ear. "I feel whole again."
Niles simply kissed her forehead and smiled. "So do I, Daphne, so do I."
**********************************************************************
"Niles, when I am gone you've got to promise me that you won't give up."
Daphne purposefully made sure that her voice had a matter-of-fact tone to it. "I want you to find some happiness...without me."
She thought that if she took a straightforward and calm approach, it would be easier on both of them.
She was wrong.
Niles set Daphne's morning toast in front of her, closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "P... please don't make me promise that. I don't know if I could keep it."
He sat down beside Daphne; his hands folded neatly in his lap, looking for all the world like a youngster who was about to be punished unfairly. His eyes took on a saucer shape and Daphne could clearly see his lower lip starting to tremble. She could feel the vibrations from his knees, as they began to shake furiously.
"Oh God!" she thought. "He's not making it easy. Is he purposefully trying to manipulate me? Is he aware of what a powerful effect he has on me? When I see that pitiful look on his face, I just want to hold him close and give him everything he wants. No! I have to be strong! I have to talk about this with him, before it's too late."
"I don't want to upset you, Niles," she insisted. "But I need you to try and promise me this. I won't be able to go in peace if I don't have your word on this. It really does mean so much to me. I'm... I'm dying Niles.... we both know it. I won't make it through another round -"
"You don't mean that, my love," he frantically interjected. "The full tests haven't come back from the first -"
She reached out and took his hands in hers and looked into his dark blue eyes.
"No," she said firmly. "A person knows, Niles. I can feel it."
Niles remained quiet for a bit.
Daphne carefully observed that his eyes started to dart around the room. She suspected that he was hurriedly trying to think of some clever way to sidetrack her away from this dreaded topic. With a look of sudden inspiration, Niles spoke.
"What's this then - another psychic flash perrrhaaps? Wait! I'll call Madam Zora and get her over here right away. You're probably in the mood for a good old-fashioned séance!" he chided with a raised eyebrow.
"So," thought Daphne, "You've decided to take the flippant route to divert me, have you?"
But Daphne never could resist delivering a snappy comeback when he taunted her about her extrasensory abilities.
She took the bait and allowed herself to be temporarily distracted.
"Niles Horatio Crane, are you mocking me?"
Daphne smiled smugly as Niles cringed at the sound of her pronouncing his middle name. She knew that neither Martin nor Frasier ever used it. Niles had once confessed to her, in a moment of sentimental weakness that it was Hester who had given him that moniker, declaring to everyone that he was her little hero and that it suited him just fine! Daphne chuckled.
"Stop laughing! I told you about that as a testament of my trust and love, not so you could brandish it in my face every time you want to win an argument, Daphne Olivia Crane," Niles mildly scolded. "That was unfair!"
Daphne rolled her eyes at his feeble counterattack of mentioning her own little-used middle name. "So was your remark," she tossed back peevishly.
"And now your toast is cold," he said as he broke off eye contact and hurried to the counter. "I better make you some more. "
The moment was gone.
Daphne sighed.
"I'll have to try again some day," she thought. "But it will have to be soon... very soon."
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"I don't know what to do, Roz!" Daphne admitted later that week. "Every time I try to talk about it with him he manages to find a way to throw up another roadblock and we never get anywhere. Next week I have to go back to the hospital for another round of treatment. This may be my last chance!"
Roz squirmed in her chair. This wasn't exactly an easy topic for her to discuss with her best friend, but she could see that Daphne was almost in a state of despair about it.
"I... I don't know Daph," she mumbled with embarrassment. "He's your husband. Just sit him down and calmly tell him straight out that it is something that has to be talked about and -"
"Doesn't work, Roz," Daphne interrupted as she shook her head emphatically. "I've tried, a number of times. All he has to do is give me that big-eyed puppy dog look and I feel like I'm Countess Dracula deliberately ripping his heart out for my amusement. That, or he distracts me somehow with a saucy, clever remark and then starts tidying up the house. I always end up feeling like I'm a complete cad taking away the only time he has left with me. I feel so selfish."
She paused. "On the other hand, Roz, I just have to let him know how I feel. Oh God! Roz, help me, if you can!"
Daphne wrung her hands in desperation. Roz reached out and hugged her tightly for a few minutes. Then she leaned back and looked at Daphne with sudden inspiration.
"Daph, what about writing him a letter?" she suggested. "Tell him everything you want to say. You could give it to Frasier or Martin... or me. We'd make sure he got it. He can't stop you, or give you any argument if you say it in a letter."
"That might be the only way to go," Daphne sighed. "Thanks, Roz. I'll start trying to get some ideas on paper... Oh look at the time! Niles will be back from the pharmacy before too long. I'd better get myself cleaned up. If he comes in and sees me even slightly teary-eyed, he's bound to just be more anxious! He worries so."
"That was nice of him to have your bedroom moved downstairs," Roz said, intentionally changing the subject as she trotted behind Daphne on the way to the powder room. "It looks quite nice. That man really knows how to decorate - I'll say that! I guess there are advantages to marrying a well-off wuss! He must have spent a bundle."
"That's just the tip of the iceberg," Daphne confessed. "You should see how he's indulged me!"
"I hope someday I'll have someone who's as devoted to me as Niles is to you," Roz said earnestly, as she applied some powder and a dash of rouge to her own cheeks. "He really does love you, Daph, doesn't he?... Umm, how are you coping with everything that has happened?"
"Well, my family has been a big help, believe it or not," Daphne said with great sincerity.
Roz gave her a look of incredulity and added, "Oh, really?"
"No really!" insisted Daphne. "O.K., not everybody! But did I tell you that Steven will be here tomorrow?"
Roz shook her head, "Just for a visit?"
"No, actually he has been tested and they found that he was a suitable donor for my bone marrow. I don't have enough cancer-free cells of my own to do the SCT'."
"The what?" Roz interrupted.
"The stem cell transplantation," Daphne explained. "After they harvest Steven's stem cells from his bone marrow, I'll get a blood transfusion and ... well, it's all very drastic, last minute stuff, you know..." Daphne's voice trailed off.
"Oh, it'll be O.K. Daph," reassured Roz and she gave Daphne's hand a little squeeze. "Everything will work out! You'll see!"
"No, Roz," Daphne said with determination. "I get enough of that from Niles. I have to be a realist and I need you to be one too, for me."
Roz looked down at the bathroom floor.
"Sorry, Daph. It's just that it isn't easy, but I'll try," she said. She paused, swallowed hard and took her first steps towards being the kind of friend that she knew Daphne really needed. "Soooo, what do they honestly say your chances are, then?"
"Not really good at all," Daphne said starkly. "Less than five per cent, what with the miscarriage, my thyroid problems, the lack of success with the first round of chemo.... the cons list is pretty heavy. And I still have to go through another session of chemo and total body radiation next week. Roz, when I look at all the factors realistically I don't think there's much of a chance that I'm coming out of the hospital this time. That's why talking about this today with you is so important."
Roz gazed at Daphne in the mirror. In spite of all the battering her physical being had taken since she had gotten ill, her friend still glowed with an inner beauty.
"It all seems so overwhelming, Daphne," Roz pondered out loud. "I don't know where you find the strength."
"Sometimes it helps if I remind myself that I really am lucky," Daphne said thoughtfully as she patted her damp face dry with a towel.
"Lucky!" Roz sputtered. "Lucky! What could be lucky about what you are going through?"
"I meant lucky in the sense that I have had the complete love of a wonderful, sweet man for as long as I have. Some people, Roz, never find such a blessing - in their whole life! Remember one time I told you that every day with Niles just brings a treasure of new delights? Even with all the misery that this bloody illness has caused, that still holds true."
Daphne turned and looked directly at Roz. "Some days he isn't the easiest man to live with, what with his obsessive behaviours and his insecurities. But Roz, when he's relaxed and we are alone, just the two of us, there is such a feeling of warmth when I'm with him - it's like living inside a hug!"
Roz smiled proudly at Daphne. She had always envied the fact that in spite of all their outward differences, Daphne and Niles' luminous love seemed to truly define who they were as a couple.
Roz bit her lip. She was determined not to ruin her freshly applied makeup, but something was driving her forward to continue asking these questions. Hard as it was for her now, she had to know. She put her arm around Daphne's shoulders.
"Maybe Daphne is *willing* me to ask these things," thought Roz. "It's like she wants to talk to someone about it and she knows I will fulfil that need."
"Don't you feel cheated?" Roz persisted. "I mean, if it wasn't for your... cancer, you'd have so much more time together."
"Well, I won't deny that I would love to have another fifty or sixty years with him!" Daphne said with a sigh. "But that is just not in the works. I have to find all the joy I can in the time that I've already had with him. I can't change the cards that I have been dealt. As two old poker players, you and I both know that. You just have to play it through with what is in the deck."
"You sound like Martin now!" laughed Roz.
"Well we have had quite a few chats lately, so a bit of what he has been saying is bound to rub off!" chortled Daphne. "Seriously, I've found out that we do have things in common. We've had some long phone conversations once Niles is tucked in bed. Martin likes it better that way, rather than face-to-face. It's just easier for him and me to handle it like that." Roz silently nodded that she understood. "Just like me," Daphne continued, "he didn't get a fair shake at life - what with being shot just when he was about to retire. And before that his wife dying. He loved Hester very, very much. That loss was extremely hard on him. A huge part of him just died when she was gone."
Daphne fell quiet for a moment.
"I know," encouraged Roz. "Both of those things caused Martin to become very bitter about life."
"He recognizes that, Roz," Daphne persevered. "Martin was rescued by Frasier. All of us did our bit to help, but Frasier was the main one who helped Martin work through his anger. Because of that, he's now come to accept what he can't change and find some level of joy in his life. He's helped me do the same. He's helped me see the bigger picture - what my responsibilities are to those who remain behind when I am gone.
I want my life to have meant some happiness for the ones I love."
"And Niles?" Roz questioned, knowing they were getting to the heart of it all now.
"It always comes back to Niles, doesn't it?" Daphne said. "He has to find a reason to carry on, like his father finally did after Hester died. For Martin, he found a new relationship with his sons. For Niles well, that's what really worries me so – after I am gone, what will he find? That's why it's so important that he understands that he's part of a bigger picture. It's just very hard for him to see right now because... because he is hurting so much. I hope I can get him to understand."
"I'll help any way that I can," reassured Roz.
"Thanks Roz, that's all that I can ask of a friend. Just talking about it with you here today has helped greatly," Daphne said with a good deal of relief in her voice. "I have a much better idea of what I am going to say to him in that letter now, thanks to our little chat."
"Well then, I'd better haul my carcass out of here before I say something else and ruin it," Roz said with some sauciness, as she gathered up her things and headed for the door. "My work here is done."
"But yours is just beginning Daph," whispered Roz to herself, as she closed the heavy, oak door. "Good luck, my dear friend."
*********************************************************************
A few days later, Daphne returned to the hospital and went into the ICU. When she did, she symbolically gave Niles her locket, the one he had given her on their first anniversary. The gesture was meant to keep his spirits up.
"You keep it darling," she told him at the time she was admitted. "It'll only get tangled up in all those tubes and cords. When my white blood cell count is high enough, I'll be out of here and then I'll put it on again."
But Niles knew even then, in his heart, that she was lying. As Daphne's state worsened, he pushed that truth further and further away from his conscious self. He just kept pretending that she was coming out of the hospital. Both of them did. It was all part of their elaborate coping mechanism to keep him from tumbling over a perilous emotional brink. Yet that figment's usefulness was about to come to an untimely end.
Daphne's condition deteriorated rapidly and by the end of February she was being fed such a concoction of painkillers and antibiotics that she was barely cognizant of what was happening around her. Niles never left her bedside. The attending nurses were astounded how little he slept or ate. He held her hand continually during the whole ordeal, never minding the fact that she wasn't able to respond to him.
Niles was alone with her when she finally was released from her struggle. He was sitting vigil, Daphne's fingers entwined in his as usual, when he drifted off, succumbing to sheer exhaustion. Only a few short moments later, an abrupt alarm sounded from one of the monitors that Daphne was hooked up to. Niles' eyes snapped wide open and his body lurched upright in shock. He didn't resist when a nurse guided him off to the side of the bed, while the medical team went through their routines. The look on his face was one of a little boy lost in a department store, mostly a mixture of bewilderment and dread. Within a few minutes the doctor shut off several of the machines and sat Niles back down in his chair. Numbness took hold of his entire body. There was a rushing sound in his ears. For a brief moment Niles thought he was going to pass out, but he managed to steady himself by holding onto the railing on the side of the bed.
It all began to feel like some grotesque dream that he couldn't wake up from. Someone had pulled a sheet over Daphne's face. Niles wondered how she could breathe through the covering.
"Why would they do that to her?" he thought.
He wanted to lift the sheet off, but he found he couldn't move his arms. His limbs seemed to be paralyzed.
Niles couldn't make out what the man in front of him was saying, but it seemed like the physician was offering his condolences and trying to comfort him. That puzzled him further. Niles shook his head in disbelief.
"Daphne can't be dead," he silently reasoned. "She would never abandon me like this. No, this just can't be true. It can't be over. The doctor is wrong. If I go back to sleep, then everything will be back to the way it was, when I wake up. Then, even if Daphne is ill, there will still be some hope for a miracle."
Without saying a word, Niles reached out and grasped Daphne's limp hand from under the stiff, white linen, laid his head on the unyielding hospital mattress and closed his eyes.
As he drifted off, in the far distance Niles thought he could hear a detached voice heavily laced with sympathy utter, "It's over now, I think he knows that it is finally over."
Although the sentiments were sincere, it couldn't have been further from the truth. Niles' anguish had really just begun.
*********************************************************************
Within a short while Martin and Frasier arrived at the hospital and rescued Niles from his macabre slumber. At first, when he was roused, he was still convinced that Daphne hadn't died, but as the trauma wore off, the reality of her passing hit him hard. No longer could he touch her hand and whisper in her ear. There would be no more chances to stroke her brow and kiss her forehead. Now, there was nothing. An empty bed. A deserted room. The hope for a miracle had ended.
Niles was thankful when Frasier came and stayed with him at the Montana for the days before the interment. He needed to have another person around the house to talk to during those dreary, sad days.
It wasn't a panacea for all his vexations, by any means, but it was better than being alone. At least there was someone there to guide him back to bed, when he was found wandering around the apartment during the night, relentlessly calling out Daphne's name in his sleep. Niles always went through a little routine the next morning, apologizing sheepishly for disturbing his brother's rest, but he knew Frasier understood and wasn't upset. Frasier also assisted him in making the numerous arrangements for the funeral. Taking care of those details seemed to further ease Niles into the realization that Daphne was not physically around any more.
It would take much longer for him to mentally accept the finality of the situation.
*****************************************************************
"The Lord is near to the broken-hearted,
and saves the crushed in spirit...."
Niles was vaguely aware of the words that the Episcopalian priest was saying as the funeral for Daphne began. Someone had noted earlier to him that the turnout was really quite large. The rest of Daphne's entire family had flown over, except Michael and his wife, who were expecting a baby so soon that it had been deemed too risky to fly. They all gathered in Seattle and joined Steven after the unsuccessful attempt at the stem cell transplantation. Simon was on his best behaviour. For all his past boorish carrying on, he really did miss his Stilts. Daphne's Uncle Jackie came up from San Francisco, as well as all of her friends from the Fox and Whistle. Even Donny Douglas and his wife Nancy were in attendance. Daphne had specifically requested that they be invited.
"That's so typical of Daphne," thought Niles as he grimly stared at the polished oak coffin. "She was always so inclusive, so generous of herself, so...."
"The lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away..."
The priest's voice droned on. Niles drifted in and out of the harsh reality that spread out before him. Sometimes he caught a word or two, sometimes an entire phrase, before his mind slipped back into the darkness of the emotional abyss that enclosed him. While this stupor threatened at times to suffocate him, it also, strangely enough, was what seemed to shield him from being overwhelmed by his wretchedness.
Outwardly he appeared almost stoic, passively devoid of any power to react to what was happening around him. He stood as straight-backed as a mannequin at her graveside, his arms held stiffly by his side, fingers clenched into a tight ball. His pallid complexion contrasted starkly with the dark, rich material of his suit. His lips stretched into a taut line across his face. Niles wore pitch-black shades to enshroud his eyes. No one was going to be allowed to glimpse into his soul on this day. That would be too much of a journey into his heart of darkness. The only movement he made was when the coffin was lowered into the ground.
"...earth to earth,
ashes to ashes,
dust to dust.
The Lord bless her
and keep her,
the Lord be kind and gracious to her,
the Lord look upon her with favour
and give her peace...."
Niles wavered for just a moment, teetering ever so slightly. A barely audible sound escaped from his lips, as the casket ended its downward journey with soft thud.
"No!" he murmured, as the earth swallowed her up.
Niles could feel Frasier's concerned gaze burrowing into him. With a tiny spasmodic jerk, he starched his back with resolve and regained control.
"Lord, have mercy upon us..."
He could distinctly hear Frasier as he whispered "Have mercy on Niles," under his breath. The oppressive air was heavy with palpable pity.
" Grant each of us the comfort of Your spirit..."
It was a plea for some type of divine truth to relieve the sadness that had invaded their lives.
".... The peace of God,
which surpasses all understanding,
will guard your hearts and our minds..."
And within a few minutes it was over. The benediction having been said, the crowd began to disperse and head back to their cars. Niles remained motionless his eyes transfixed on the freshly turned earth just beyond his feet. Frasier and Martin, who flanked him on both sides, reached out simultaneously to prod him into action.
"Come on, son," Martin said benevolently. "Time to go, Niles."
Niles could hear his father's voice, but his focus remained riveted on Daphne's new, inhospitable berth.
"No," Niles uttered. "I can't do this... I can't leave her like this!"
The strength of will that had served him so well during the funeral started to crumble. Niles felt the chaos beginning to overtake him.
"Niles," Frasier reminded him. "You have to. We all do." Even though Niles knew his brother was trying to reach out to him, he couldn't respond.
"Frasier," said Martin quietly. "Give us a minute, all right?"
Niles' eyes shifted to meet his father's weary look. He knew in his heart that this wasn't easy on any of them.
"Roz is over there," Martin continued with a nod. "Go see what she wants. It'll be O.K., really."
Frasier turned around and saw Roz anxiously standing off at about fifteen feet. He slowly let go of Niles' arm, entrusting him to the capable care of his father. Within minutes Frasier and Roz had disappeared over a small knoll together, leaving Niles alone with his dad.
Niles felt his father's strong arm slip around his shoulders.
"I went through this when your mother died. I know how you are hurting," he said, kindly patting Niles' arm. "I know it doesn't seem like it will ever stop, but it will get better. Trust me. Let's go son."
"I can't, Dad!" Niles blurted the words out, nearly choking as he spoke. "I can't even move my legs. I w...want to, I... I know I have to, I know I have duties to perform... b... but I c can't!" He sagged against the frame of his crippled father, his body convulsing as he surrendered to the overwhelming sorrow. Martin tightened his grip on Niles with his free arm, while he waited for the tears to abate.
"Take it easy, son. Just do it one step at a time." Niles felt Martin's hand take hold of his palm firmly. "I'll help you. We'll do this together."
Martin's soothing voice calmed him down considerably. After a few moments, when Niles had regained his composure to some degree and was breathing more evenly, Martin turned the two of them carefully around. Leaning heavily on his cane, at a deliberately slow but steady pace, Martin gradually guided Niles away from the grave.
"That's it, Niles," Martin continued to talk to his son in a comforting manner. "One step at a time. Take a deep breath.... thaaat's it. Niles, you know you don't have to do everything all at once. No one expects that. Just try to handle one or two little things and focus on those successes. Like getting to the car. You can do that, right?"
Niles couldn't manage to answer in words, but did nod his head in agreement.
"That's right, just keep breathing," Martin's tranquil voice floated out in front of them as they walked. Niles could feel his father's words begin to quell the fears that threatened to take hold of his troubled soul. "Once we get to the car, you can relax and then we'll handle the next step. You got that locket she gave you in the hospital?"
Again, Niles' head silently bobbed in affirmation. With each word of encouragement from his father, things seemed a bit easier. "Good! Just put it in your hand and hang onto it - all night, if you have to."
Niles followed his instructions without fail. "Just hang on to it, Niles. It can be your lifeline for a while until you get back on solid ground. Let's keep walking. You're doing fine...."
It was going to be a very long evening. And an even longer time before Niles found the terra firma that he so desperately needed.
**********************************************************************
Frasier delivered Daphne's letter to Niles when they arrived back at the Montana for the post-funeral reception. He ushered him into the bedroom that Niles had converted for Daphne and closed the door. Without a word he handed the unmarked, vellum envelope to his brother. Niles took it between his fingers, paused for a brief moment and then held it up to his nose.
"Daphne," Niles whispered, with almost a trance-like quality to his voice. "This is from Daphne."
"She wanted you to have it," Frasier said. "She thought it was important that you read it. Please read it soon, Niles."
An awkward silence ensued. Niles just stood by the bed holding the envelope up against his cheek. He wearily closed his eyes.
"Do you want me to stay with you or leave?" Frasier finally asked.
"W...what?" stuttered Niles, as if he had been interrupted from a dream. "Oh!... Well, I think it would be best if you got back out there and mingled with the guests. That is the proper thing to do."
It was the calm formality in this request that alarmed Frasier.
"Typical Niles. Just another example of his repressed feelings," thought Frasier. "He's so afraid to show anything of what he is going through. This isn't healthy. He's walking through this like a zombie!"
"All right," Frasier said out loud, a bit too curtly. "If that's what you want. Remember Niles, we are all here for you, if you need us."
With that clipped homily finished, Frasier turned to leave, pausing for a moment as he opened the bedroom door. The subdued sounds of the people gathered in the front room drifted in.
"Niles?" Frasier said in another vain attempt to reach out to him.
There was no response.
Frasier gave one look back at his brother standing rigidly next to the bed, exhaled a frustrated puff of air and walked out. He closed the door behind himself and left Niles alone.
*******************************************************************
Niles tucked the unopened letter into his breast pocket and sank down on the bed. He just couldn't look at it. He felt too drained. Like some kind of a morbid ritual, he pulled on the dresser drawer handle and carefully coaxed his treasured folder of all the hospital correspondence on Daphne out of its hiding place. This practice was rapidly becoming a way for Niles to jumpstart his soul. Seeing it all written out in black and white, in such harsh, impersonal, analytical language, sometimes helped jolt him back into a state of emotional awareness.
"A resurgence of the leukemia occurred shortly after the second session of radiation and chemotherapy," the final report read. "As well, the patient's immune system was compromised by the therapy treatment and an infection began aggressively attacking her lungs and liver within the crucial first week time frame. With her white blood cell count being at only 300, the infection spread rapidly and eventually induced heart and lung failure resulting in death."
Niles drew in a sharp breath as he read that final word. He knew when he felt the stabbing pain inside him that it was at least real, and it was better than feeling nothing at all. At least these tortuous sensations that told him he was alive. And knowing that Daphne wasn't in agony any longer, was his only comfort.
Niles existed on that despair, day after endless day. Like a junkie with a growing habit, he couldn't break away from it. And like any addiction, the amount of heartache that he needed to subsist on increased as time went by. It was consuming him, destroying the very essence of who he was. He needed something to hold onto, or least something to help him find some respite. But what? Nothing that his friends or family did seemed to give him any lasting peace of mind. Life had become meaningless for him.
He had even contemplated suicide at one point. He went so far as to gather the appropriately potent concoctions about three weeks after Daphne's funeral and line up the bottles in a neat row on the kitchen table. It was only his obsessive imaginings of the inherent messiness of the whole situation that had finally eliminated that option from his mind.
In a last desperate attempt to stave off this emotional free-fall that he found himself in, Niles finally grasped onto a lifeline that he had unwittingly held in his possession ever since Daphne had died. He decided that it was time that he read Daphne's letter.
*********************************************************************
It happened the evening that Frasier had left the Montana in frustration. As Frasier stood in front of him, pleading with him to seek some help and return to the family fold, Niles suddenly realised that there was only one person who could truly help him - Daphne. Even though she was gone, she had left him an offering of her last thoughts. Maybe she had the answer? Niles knew he wasn't being honest with Frasier, when he hurriedly agreed with his brother and ushered him out, but at that moment, Niles would have said anything to get him to stop talking. Niles needed some solitude. He needed to be alone with Daphne.
After closing the door, Niles stumbled over to the fainting couch and sat for a while, trying to summon up the mettle he needed to make this last bid for sanity. To steady his nerves he poured himself a couple of fingers of brandy. One gulp and the fiery liquid was swallowed. The sound of the mantle clock ticking was the only noise in the room. Niles listened to it count off the minutes while he waited for his liquid courage to take hold. Everything seemed so jumbled and fragmented in his mind, as he vacillated between the rationality he knew as a trained psychiatrist and the fragility he felt as a man who had lost all hope for happiness.
Niles served himself another hefty portion of liquor and downed it in one continuous motion. He searched out Daphne's letter, holding it gingerly in his hands, as he returned to the sofa.
"This is it," he thought. "It is either my deliverance or my damnation."
Once more Niles filled his glass and quaffed the contents quickly. He felt a buzzing sensation in his head.
His tremulous hands held the envelope for a moment, as he ran his finger along the sharp edge of the creamy, white parchment. Was he really ready for the truth that she was about to present to him? These were her final words to him. They had to hold some special significance, didn't they? What if it didn't contain the answers he needed to free himself from the vexatious trap he was in? What then? A reconsideration of that unseemly and untidy alternative? His heart was palpitating wildly, as if it were trying to escape from its confined space. He tried to stay focused on the envelope in front of him, but it seemed like he was viewing everything from the wrong end of the binoculars. The room began to reel as the darkness closed in on him....
Suddenly he heard Daphne's voice.
"Niles," she said clearly. "Niles, dearest, it isn't as bad as you think."
Niles looked up and saw her standing directly in front of him.
"Daphne," he cried. " I miss you so much! I don't know if I can go on like this."
She sat down on the edge of the couch and embraced him. When she kissed the top of his head he could feel the wetness of her lips and the fragrance of her perfume. Overcome, he simply remained motionless, weeping. His body quaked as he sobbed in the comfort of her arms.
"Oh, my dear," she sweetly said. "I just want you to know that I understand your grief, but you have to go on, Niles. If you don't, then I've failed."
"Failed?" he inquired. "Failed at what?"
"Niles," she said as she raised his head up slightly, so that their eyes met. She cupped his tear-stained face in her hands. "You have so much to offer. Find some happiness, a purpose - a reason to live. You're not alone in this world. You have your family - Martin and Frasier can help you through this. You have Roz - she really does care about you. And you will always have me." She reached out and touched his chest, her warm hand pressing against his dampened shirt, "I'll always be here for you, tucked away in your heart. But if you don't find something here on earth to bring you joy, how can I be happy? I want you to promise me that you will try, Niles. If you are suffering, then I will suffer. If you are hurting, then I will feel the pain. Do you understand, dear?"
"I think so," he whispered. "I will try my best. But Daphne what should I do, where will I find my happiness?"
"Just trust yourself, my dear," Daphne answered. "If you can't find what you are looking for in Seattle, then maybe the answer lies elsewhere. Just don't lose contact with your family and friends. They need you just as much as you need them."
Niles acceded to her request with a nod of his head.
"I have to go Niles," she said as she rose slowly and stood beside him.
"Already?" his voice rising in a decidedly panicky tone. He didn't feel like all his aprehensions had been addressed. He felt like this was only the proverbial finger in the dyke of his burdens. Still it was a start and that was important. "Please stay longer I'll do anything you say, if you'll only stay with me!"
"I will always be with you, Niles," she reassured him earnestly. "Even though you can't always see me, I'm only a heartbeat away."
"But it hurts so Daphne," he said lowering his voice. "It's hard to remain behind here without you."
"I know darling, but I have to go," she reminded him. "Goodbye, sweetie."
He closed his eyes for a fleeting moment.
When he opened them up again she was gone....
****************************************************************************
The morning sun flooded the apartment with hope and light. Niles woke with a start. Daphne's letter lay on the cushion beside him, the pages strewn out in a fan shape. The spilt brandy glass lay in a puddle of its own contents on the floor. He carefully gathered the sheets up and neatly folded them back into the envelope. As he cleaned up the sticky remnants of the drink from the carpet, Niles sniffed the air hopefully for a familiar scent. Was that a hint of cherries he smelt?
After drinking a generous amount of water to quench his hangover thirst, Niles suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to cleanse himself. He climbed the stairs to his old bathroom. It was comfortable and familiar. He hadn't been in this part of the apartment in nearly four months. He felt like he was returning home after a very long, arduous journey. As the steamy water of the shower washed over him, it seemed to strip away the unfathomable confusion that had taken over his life recently. Spurred on by Daphne's reassuring words, Niles began to sort through his feelings and devise a plan to help himself. By the time he had finished bathing, he felt a bit more lucid. One particular thing she had said kept rumbling around in his head – he needed a goal, a purpose, a new direction in his life. That was the key – it was what would bring him back into the world. He was determined to make sure to give it his best effort. He would do it for Daphne. He picked up the phone and dialed.
"Frasier," he cleared his throat. "I want to apologize for the way I treated you yesterday. In fact, I want to apologize for the way I have treated you for the last few months. I hope you will understand and forgive me. I'd like to come over and discuss something with you and Dad this morning. I've come to a decision and I want you to know what I plan to do. I'll explain further when I see you. Ten o'clock all right? Fine, see you then.... and Frasier – thanks thanks for everything."
At least the wheels of his life were finally in motion...
End of Part Two (to be continued)