At the Heart of It All
by Val McCaffery
Chapt. 4 : Uncharted Waters
Niles languidly waved one more time at Frasier's retreating car before doing an about face and sauntering back towards the house. He cinched his brown, bulky-knit cardigan tighter around his slight frame to stave off the bite of a night chill. Even though it was only the first week of September the crispness of the air signaled the oncoming harsher weather.
"Perhaps winter will arrive early this year?" Niles mused.
A warm smile of contentment flickered across his face, as he turned around and strained to catch a last glimpse of the black BMW as it headed down the street. With a couple of short "goodbye" blasts of the horn, it soon disappeared into the darkness.
"I'm glad they came," Niles noted. "I needed them to be here today."
Despite his growing shivers, Niles couldn't help but stop for a few moments to look around in wonderment at his new environs. The outside light bathed the porch in a ghostly, citron glow. A choir of crickets chirped out a chorus of familiar tunes to the inky heavens. He could feel the pale, milky fingers of the full moon coolly caress his face. A few errant leaves broke away from their mothering trees and drifted leisurely down to the ground near his feet. Niles exhaled one deep, frosty breath as he mounted the creaky planks of the front steps, pulled back the wooden screen door and entered his home.
"That's what this is, isn't it?" he concluded. "This really is my home, now. It seemed like such an impossible dream a few months ago, but now it's a reality!"
And with that idea, came another fact that he had to face - he was truly alone now, for the first time in many years. His closest friends and family were almost 100 miles away. He didn't actually know anyone in Bellingham yet. A whole new network of colleagues and business associates would have to be established in the coming weeks. He would have to find other bistros and bookstores to haunt on rainy days. There would be no familiar faces behind the counters when he went about his daily routines. Everything had changed for him. His life was a clean slate waiting to be written on.
"Liberating to a certain extent," he thought. "But also a bit frightening to be sure."
Niles surveyed the organized clutter that spread out before him in the grand entranceway. There were still plenty of boxes to be unpacked and things to be rearranged, but the normally overly fussy Niles somehow didn't mind. He had already imagined that the gradual transfer of his belongings could become a comforting nightly ritual for him. Something to help him fill the solitary hours that he was bound to have plenty of in the foreseeable future.
"To every thing there is a season," Niles philosophized. "And a time to every purpose under heaven… isn't that how it goes? The important thing is that I have found a place for myself. Sure, it will take a while to get settled in, and I know that the house definitely needs some refurbishing, but in spite of all that, there is an aura about this house that feels sooo right. I know I belong here. It can help me in the long run."
Niles turned the latch on the front door and flicked off the hallway lights. Ambling into the dimly lit parlor, he settled down on his familiar fainting couch and reached out for the portrait of Daphne resting on the large beige ottoman that doubled, once again, as a center table. Niles was grateful that with all this whirlwind of change in his current situation, he still had some accustomed objects that could anchor his life. It made the transition easier.
He leaned back on the cushions and closed his eyes. The complete stillness that surrounded him allowed his thoughts to drift. Gradually a strange feeling of melancholy overtook him. Niles enwrapped the picture in his arms, holding it close to his body. Determined as he was not to let his emotions inundate him, Niles still found himself weeping involuntarily as the minutes on the clock ticked by.
"I've been doing a lot of crying, lately," he reflected. "It's like I have sprung a leak in my soul. I wish I could mend it somehow."
He leaned forward and gazed at Daphne's face, hoping the happiness captured in her smile could pull him out of his despondency. His tears fell on the smooth glass that covered the photograph. Fastidious as ever, Niles slipped his hand into the pocket of his sweater to retrieve a handkerchief to wipe away the evidence of his sorrow, lest it spoil the moment of Daphne's joy. As he pulled the cloth out of its hiding place, out tumbled an antiquated compass. Niles plucked the newly acquired relic from the thick Persian rug under his feet and smiled.
"Thanks, Frasier," he hoarsely whispered out loud. "Sometimes it's the little things that can help the most."
Drying both the picture and his eyes concurrently, Niles slowly made his way up the winding staircase to his bedroom. He set the likeness of his beloved on his bedside table, so that she could watch over him through the night, changed into his bedclothes and slid under the warm covers. The compass, still tightly gripped in his hand as he drifted off to sleep, acted like a lodestone, drawing him back to the gratifying events of that afternoon …
In a show of support Martin, Frasier and Roz, had all come up earlier that day to Bellingham to help Niles uncrate some of his personal effects after the movers had brought the larger items from the Montana. They spent hours removing possessions such as books, dishes and pictures from their packing containers and placing them carefully, according to Niles' exacting instructions, in their proper locales.
"My God, Niles," said Roz with superficial exasperation. "Have you actually read all these books?"
Niles grinned. "Yesss, Roz, I have. And I expect that I'll have to read a great deal more once my job at Western gets going in full swing – student assignments, research papers and all that."
"Well just don't forget to take time out for the important things like food, sleep and sex," she teased, as she scooped up an armful of massive volumes and set them carefully on a shelf under Niles' watchful eye.
Martin snickered and continued with his assigned chores.
"Thanks for the advice, Rozzzz. And I am sure that you strategically placed those in a definite order of importance for yourself – sex being so low on your list of priorities," Niles answered with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
Roz made a face and stuck her tongue out at him.
"Hey! I give up my valuable time on a Saturday to help you convert this dusty, old room into your precious new library and this is the abuse I get!" she shot back. "Some sensitive, caring therapist you are!"
"Well, all kidding aside," Niles announced in an impromptu burst of gratitude, "I am very appreciative that everyone came down here today to help me out. I don't think I could manage this all on my… Dad… Dad be careful with those books… and where are the white gloves that I issued you? Some of those are rare first editions!"
Martin gave him a look that only he could. Niles caught the full meaning of that stare in an instant. He climbed down off the stepladder and headed for the hallway.
"Umm, I guess I'd better check up on how Frasier is doing in the kitchen," he muttered as he trotted down the narrow corridor.
As it happened, Frasier was doing just fine.
"You're going to have some spectacular meals coming from a set-up like this, Niles," he said as he hung up a copper crêpe pan on one of the hooks above the stove island.
"Well, not tonight, I'm afraid," Niles stated. "I suppose we could go out and find a restaurant that is close by. As a matter of fact, we're right downtown and there are a surprising number of very fine eating establishments nearby, according to the guide book I got."
"Why don't we just order in?" Frasier suggested. "That way we can keep working and get more done before the food arrives, all right?"
Niles looked up at his brother. Those seemingly insignificant words brought a feeling of acceptance washing over him that he had longed for from Frasier.
When Frasier didn't hear a reply from Niles, he glanced up to see if there was anything wrong. He saw Niles purse his lips and rub his chin thoughtfully.
"Niles?" Frasier said with a fretful tone. "Did I say something to upset you?"
"No, no… " Niles smiled warmly. "It's just that… well, I'm just glad you're here today. I… I miss you, Frasier, you and everyone else and I… I know this hasn't been easy on all of you. I don't know if I can explain to you why I had to do all this… it's hard for me to put it into words."
He sighed and looked down at his feet. Sometimes the confusion that he felt in his soul was hard to articulate to others, even someone close to him.
Frasier reached out and touched his brother's arm.
"It's all right, Niles, you don't have to," he said kindly. "The words will come when you are ready."
Reaching into his pocket Frasier pulled out a small object wrapped in a clean hankie. "I was going to give you this later, but I think now would be a better time. Here," He held the gift out, thrusting it towards Niles. "It's not much – just something small."
Niles let out a sharp gasp. "It's… it's breath-taking, Frasier! Thank you!"
The neatly pressed linen unfolded to reveal a polished pewter compass nestled within.
"I thought you might like it," said Frasier, delighted with Niles' reaction. "I found it in that quaint shop on Pike. They said it came from one of the old sailing vessels that wrecked in Puget Sound during the 1800's. I… I figured you could use it, you know – if you ever get to feeling a bit lost - "
"A compass is supposed to help you to find your way back home, right?" anticipated Niles.
"Well, sometimes," Frasier said tenderly. "But sometimes it can guide you through uncharted waters to a new destination."
"Thanks, Frasier… Thank y…"
He choked up and then simply grabbed Frasier and hugged him. They stood there a few minutes holding onto each other, Frasier gently patting Niles' back.
"I love you, brother," sobbed Niles.
"I love you too, Niles," echoed Frasier.
"Oh, jeez!" said Martin as he walked through the kitchen door. "Can't you guys just punch each other on the arm like other brothers would?"
The two boys broke apart and stood there sheepishly in front of their father.
"What d'yah have to eat around here?" Martin asked. "I'm starved and Roz is in the other room eyeing my legs like they are pieces of barbecued chicken."
"We… we were just about to call for Chinese," said Niles as he cleared his throat. Unobserved, he slipped the compass into his sweater pocket and grabbed the phone book. "What do you want? Let's see - wonton soup for Frasier and… "
"You'll be all right, Niles," whispered Fraiser in his brother's ear. "Things are going to be O.K., you'll see."
"Good morning everyone…. I'm Dr. Niles Crane. I will be your instructor in 'Advanced Psychotherapy' this semester. Now, let's get started… "
With those few short sentences Niles tentatively took his first formal steps into his new life.
He was officially listed as an associate professor in the psychology department and given a one-year contract in the temporary job vacancy pool of the university. He was fortunate in the fact that most of these short-term positions were just part-time, but Niles had snared a rare full-time deal, which was luckily available at just the right time for him. Niles hoped that if he performed well, he would be eligible to be slotted into a "tenure track" position sometime in the future. But that was something that was a ways off and his immediate concern was just getting started this semester.
It was part of Niles' pre-planned survival strategy to keep very diligently engaged for the next little while. He truly believed that by immersing himself in an overload of unaccustomed activity, he could somehow exorcise the depression demon that had taken hold of him since Daphne died. He was determined to simply work himself out of his gloom.
And he certainly did succeed in filling his waking hours. Busy didn't begin to describe his timetable. Niles was scheduled during the first semester to cover the topics of different theories in therapy counseling, as well as psychotherapy and abnormal behaviour management. He taught four classes each day and since all of those enrolled in his assigned courses were going for their Masters degree, he also had two blocks of time set aside for consultations with students working on their theses. As well he was involved with the associated medical facilities in Whatcom County for clinical trials to support his research and also had a number of faculty committee assignments.
With all that, and the fact that he still was moving into his home, Niles had very little time for anything else, except a precisely calculated minimum amount of sleep to keep him functioning at this accelerated pace and some quickly arranged meals. Marking student work often took longer than he expected and the work in the hospitals and clinics where he was doing his practical research, involved long hours as well. More nights than not, he found himself falling asleep at the desk in his study, slumped over a mountain of papers and books.
If any of his family asked him how things were, he would only admit to things being a bit rough at times, but nothing he couldn't handle and he held fast to the hope that things would ease up in the near future.
Niles wasn't exactly surprised by his overloaded work agenda. He had foreseen that to a certain degree. What did take him aback, were the complications he seemed to be having with the social aspect of his job. Since he had so little personal time, the only convivial outings he attended centered on the university sphere of influence.
Niles was introduced to most of the other teaching staff in the department over a series of short informal get-togethers at the dean's house just before the beginning of the semester. And while the staff was on the surface cordial and receptive, there was an exclusive, rather than inclusive atmosphere that seemed to permeate these gatherings. Sometimes he felt like he could have been wearing a sandwich board sign that read "outsider" and it wouldn't have been any more obvious. He made a concerted effort to be as outgoing as possible, even though this was difficult for him, at the best of times. He was eager to learn from the more seasoned veterans how to handle the whole college milieu, but sometimes there was a whiff of desperation about him that was noticeable.
"Oh God!" he worried. "It's like prep school all over again! Niles Crane – social outcast!"
At each outing he redoubled his pains to be professional and polite, diligently smiling and making small talk with the campus regulars, hoping to win their approval. Gradually, by the third party, he did seem to be making some inroads for all his tireless efforts. But it wasn't easy and this certainly added to the stress in his life. He still appeared to many to be a bit standoffish and distant. For while he tried hard to ingratiate himself to the others, Niles couldn't help but be cautiously guarded about how much he revealed concerning his reasons for leaving Seattle. He never mentioned Daphne, his previous marriages, or anything for that matter, about any aspect of his private life. It was just too much of a raw wound for him to be picking away at such a fresh scab. A small minority of members of the hiring committee knew the tragic circumstances of Niles' recent personal history, but the rest of the staff was told that he had moved to Bellingham because he needed a change of pace, nothing more. His aloofness only magnified his isolation from the rest of his compatriots.
As expected he was given a very small office, which he shared with two other faculty members in Miller Hall, just a short walk across the courtyard to the psychology building, where he gave his seminars and lectures.
"I guess when I am supposed to meet privately with my students, I will have to find a closet somewhere nearby, big enough to fit two people into," he jested one day to his new roomies.
"Yes, well that's the life of a 'Prof.', Dr. Crane," said Dr. Saul Rosenblum, who originally hailed from New York. "I've been doing this for ten years, at all kinds of universities in the north-west and they're all the same."
"Get used to it," confirmed Dr. Ann Kahn, a Ph.D. in clinical psychology, who had been trying for three years to get a "tenure track" position. "You're not in the luxury of private practice any longer."
The odor of disdain hung in the air with that remark.
"Yes…. Well, thanks for the advice," Niles said awkwardly, rubbing his tired eyes and burying his nose back into the text he was reading.
Dr. Kahn's comment stuck in Niles' mind like a pebble in his shoe.
He tried hard not to become too obsessive about it, but it bothered him that the others on staff might think that he was some kind of spoiled "prima donna". It was very important to him that he be respected professionally at Western. In order to overcome what he thought might be a perceived impression, Niles pushed himself even more to totally dedicate himself to his newly chosen career. He increased the number of nights he stayed late to conference with students about their dissertations and even came in on the occasional Saturday afternoon. He never denied an even halfway reasonable request.
"Niles, be careful," warned Frasier in his weekly phone conversation with his brother, when another invitation for a visit was cancelled. "It's a necessity that you take some down time for yourself. All work and no play… "
"I know, I know," Niles hastily interrupted. "Makes me a dull boy! Well, for right now you can color me dull then, Frasier. I can handle it. I just wish that I could get rid of this aching in my head! Besides, things will probably settle down sometime after Christmas… speaking of which, can you and Dad come up here and celebrate with me in Bellingham? I'll come down for Thanksgiving to your place, but I don't think I can afford to take that much time off after that… what with the papers that I have to mark during the holidays… but if you two came up to Canfield it'd be easier to schedule you in."
"Niles!" Frasier scolded.
"What?" he answered, naively unaware of how positively frazzled he'd become.
"Nothing. Just take care, little brother," Frasier said with true affection. "Just take care of yourself, please."
As the weeks went by, Niles began to notice that he was suffering from the headaches more frequently. At first he thought it was from lack of sleep or stress, but the length and severity of the pain kept increasing. By early November Niles began to realize that he did seem to have some deterioration in the general level of his eyesight. It was clear that he was squinting at signs and holding his books further and further back, until his arms just didn't seem long enough.
"Damn," he stewed. "That means I will have to go see someone about having my eyes tested. I don't have time for this!"
He asked one of his colleagues if they could recommend an optometrist and was given the name of a Dr. Brightman who had an office quite close to the campus. Niles made a hurried appointment for the next Wednesday at 5:30 and made a note of it in his planner.
He wasn't in a particularly good mood when that day rolled around. One of his students had cancelled a meeting on such short notice that Niles was unable to reschedule his other meetings. To make matters worse his computer crashed before he was able to save all of a paper that he was writing.
"Well, that was a wasted afternoon!" Niles brooded as he flipped through the medical journal he had brought with him to read in the office. "Now I suppose I will be made to wait at least an hour before – "
"Niles Crane?" announced the receptionist. "The doctor will see you now."
Niles strode down a brightly-lit hallway and was ushered into a small examination room.
The technician put the required drops in Niles' eyes to dilate his pupils and after a few moments Dr. Brightman came briskly though the door.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Crane," she said pleasantly as she extended her hand in greeting.
"It's Dr. Crane," Niles replied testily and then immediately regretted being so short with her without any justification. He was suddenly struck with how clear her voice was and how it had a faintly musical quality to it.
Dr. Brightman took it in stride. "Oh, I apologize," she said and then added "I always hate when people can't get my name right either. Let me start again – Good afternoon, Dr. Crane. I'm Dr. Brightman."
"Oh, oh let me apologize, " Niles sputtered. "You must think I am just so perfectly ill-mannered, jumping on you like that… my only excuse is that I have had an absolutely horrible day and… and these pesky headaches just won't go away… and it is interfering with the reading that I simply must get done and - "
Dr. Brightman laughed lightly. "All right, all right, I believe you and forgive you!"
Niles stopped short and looked at her. He saw before him a rather small woman, only about 5'6" in height, who had rather large brown eyes behind a pair of stylish glasses, dark, chestnut brown hair and very pale white skin. Niles would have estimated her age to be somewhere around forty-three. When he squinted, which he had to do because of the drops he had been given, he could see that a few freckles traced across her cheekbones and that her long, neatly braided hair had a natural wavy curl to it and touches of gray around the edges.
"Is that a hint of cherries I smell?" Niles shook his head. "Maybe not? It must be my imagination."
"Thank you, you're too kind," he said red-faced with a trace of discomfort. "Umm, where would you like me to sit?"
"Right in front of me at this machine, please. That's it. Now put your chin on this stand and bring your face up close to the viewer. Just a bit closer and over just a smidgen, Dr. Crane, please."
She reached out and delicately touched the side of his cheek to guide him to the correct spot. Niles closed his eyes and drew a quick breath as her fingers lightly pressed against his skin. He could smell some type of perfume on her wrist. Something both exciting and frightening stirred in him. It was the first time a woman had touched his face since Daphne…
A tear formed in the corner of his eye.
"Does this hurt?" Dr. Brightman asked with an implication of worry in her voice. "It shouldn't… "
"No, no," Niles said covering. "I guess… I guess I must have some dust in my eye."
"Don't move and I'll wipe it for you." With one smooth movement she reached to fetch a tissue from a box sitting on the table behind her.
"No!"
Niles' voice strained with the agitation and chaotic feelings he was experiencing. He backed out of the examination machine's head harness and nearly tipped in his chair. The realization that he had probably over-reacted just made him more flustered.
"I mean… Oh God, what must you think! I can't explain… I mean I can explain! It's just that… No! That will never do… I guess, I … I… "
A little taken aback, Dr. Brightman gaped at Niles in a rather mystified fashion.
"Are you all right, Dr. Crane? Is there something I can do to help you?" she asked sympathetically. "Please relax. This is just a routine eye examination. I just want to take a look, all right?"
Niles rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. "I… I have been under a lot of tension lately and I guess it just got the better of me… I'm… sorry… "
He opened his cobalt blue eyes and searched her face for even a trifling of an indication of understanding. What Niles found in her expression was a generous awareness of his current anguish and a willingness to accept that no further explanation was needed from him. That at least made him breathe easier.
"Can I get you a glass of water, perhaps?" she offered.
"Thank you, that would be lovely" Niles mumbled, lowering his eyes.
Dr. Brightman retrieved a glass from a nearby cupboard and ran the faucet for a moment to make sure the water was cold enough.
Niles began to ramble on nervously, mainly to relieve the uneasy quietude that smothered the room.
"I know I must get some more rest. Maybe it's all tied to these headaches.
I have been reading a lot lately and my eyes seem more strained than usual. I haven't been myself. My schedule has been rather hectic. If I could just relax and get rid of this pounding in my head! You must think that I am an absolute fool… "
"Forget about it," Dr. Brightman said as casually as possible. "We all have days that we would like to take back and start all over again. But I am glad you decided to see me about these headaches. The cause could be something as simple as just needing eyeglasses or it could be more serious. An examination will tell us - then we can go from there. Are you ready, Dr. Crane?"
She motioned towards the contraption in the centre of the room again.
"One chair, no waiting," she joked.
Niles smiled half-heartedly at the attempted humor, but fully appreciated the fact that she was trying to make him feel as comfortable as possible under the embarrassing circumstances that had just occurred.
He sat down again and submitted to the tests that Dr. Brightman had to perform in order to make her diagnosis. But his mind kept wandering back to the sensation he felt when her hand touched him. He tried to censor these thoughts, but couldn't.
"Stop this!" he rebuked himself. "You're becoming irrational about this. Besides the woman is a doctor, a professional. You have no right to go around thrusting your sexual frustrations on other people. Either she thinks you are a complete loon by now and is thoroughly scared of you, or, if you're lucky, she's just too nice to think ill of anyone and you can at least leave here today with some of your dignity still intact!"
"…Could I have you look directly into the light now, Dr. Crane? Thank you.
And now could you cover your one eye and just direct your focus to this pen. That's fine…"
"I wonder…I wonder what would it be like to feel her face? It looks so soft and smooth. Her lips are just like… Oh… my… God! Stop it!! You're obsessing!!"
Niles squirmed in the chair, as he tried to suppress the wellspring of desires that he couldn't seem to master.
"And now could you look towards the floor, please…"
Niles' eyes traveled downward until he found himself focusing on Dr. Brightman's bare knee. As she adjusted her position in her seat, Niles observed that the hem of her skirt migrated upward along her leg just a bit.
Niles licked his bone-dry lips. His eyes eagerly transfixed on the sensuous curve of her limb. His breathing became a trifle ragged. He felt a tingling sensation in his groin.
"If she would just move again, conceivably I could see… "
Another small unconscious shift and her legs parted ever so slightly.
Niles instinctively let out a low, concupiscent groan and swallowed hard.
"Dr. Crane… Dr. Crane?" Dr. Brightman's clarion voice broke through his ardent arousal like an alarm. "Are you all right?"
A totally inarticulate "Huh?" was all Niles could manage.
"I was just asking, Dr. Crane, if you could see out of this lens better, or the other one?"
Her polite, but business-like demeanor extinguished the flames of his libidinous dreams.
"Oh, yes, of course," he hastily blurted out. "Sorry – I just had a cramp in my leg… but, but it's g… gone now…just temporary – you know how it is. You… you were saying about the lens?"
"How about now… better or worse?" she continued. "And now? "
"Oh, you imbecile!!!" he chastised himself. "If you do that again and she notices anything, she'll probably call the police and have you arrested as a pervert! Get control of yourself! Where are those memories of that decaying horse you saw? If it worked for Frasier once, it should work for you now!"
Niles conjured up the required images and shuddered at their effectiveness.
Dr. Brightman paused again.
"Is it too chilly in here for you? Are you cold?" she asked in a genuinely concerned voice. "We have been having trouble with the heat."
"No, I'm fine, really," Niles felt a resurgence of self-consciousness. "It's just that sitting for such a lengthy time… well, I am sure you've had patients who were five years old, who could sit still longer than me."
She chuckled at his noble effort at self-deprecating humor. "Well, yes, but something tells me you won't be so easy to bribe with a lollipop or a sticker. We're almost done. Now look at the viewing chart and read the letters as far as you can go with your left eye... "
Niles complied contritely. With his erogenous fantasies sufficiently restrained, the remainder of the check up carried on without incident.
"Thanks, Dr. Crane. Now I just have to administer this glaucoma test. It doesn't hurt, let me assure you. Just a little puff of air directed in each eye. There! That's it, you're finished."
"And?" Niles asked with anticipation as he watched her scan his charts and mark a few notes down.
"Well, I can definitely rule out right now anything serious like cataracts, glaucoma or macular degeneration. I would say however, that you are about to get your first pair of glasses in the near future. Bifocals."
"Glasses? That's all it is?" A tinge of tenseness showed in his inflection.
"Well there is some normal stretching of the eyeball, that comes with aging and corrective lenses will be just the ticket to alleviate those irksome headaches you have been getting lately. It's that simple." Dr. Brightman smiled reassuringly to put his mind at ease. "No big deal. You've heard of the old saying – bifocals, by forty."
She reached out and patted his hand to lend credence to her assurances.
Thump!
Niles couldn't believe it! He definitely felt his heart thud loudly at the exact moment she made physical contact with his hand. It was so pronounced Niles swore he could see it moving beneath his shirt at that very moment.
In fact, he was quite sure that his chest was going to burst wide open any minute!
"Dr. Brightman must notice it! She'd have to be blind not to!"
It was a response that his conscious self just couldn't accept.
"This… this isn't right! This isn't in my plans at all!"
Waves of apprehension, panic and guilt overtook Niles. He was being pulled in a multitude of directions. Even as feelings of mortification engulfed him, there was also a distinct element of titillation that couldn't be denied. He wanted her to find an excuse to touch him again. It was unmistakable. There was a primal attraction to her that terrified him through-and-through.
"Well… umm…when do I g… get these g… glasses?" he managed to say before his mouth went completely dry.
The good doctor glanced at Niles with a strong dose of bewilderment.
"Well, first let me say that there's no need to get upset, all right? It's really quite simple. I can give you a prescription today and you can have them made up at one of those one-hour shops. There's one not too far from here."
Niles couldn't force any more words out of his mouth, so he just nodded his thanks.
"This can't be happening to me!!" he shouted with an inner voice that grew more frenzied by the second. "I've got to get out of here, right now, before I make a complete ass out of myself!"
He began fumbling around for his keys as he clumsily tried to pull on his jacket. His hands were shaking so much so, that he couldn't get his fingers to manipulate the buttons and just ended up thrusting his hands deep into his pockets in defeat. Niles wheeled around on his heels, grabbed his satchel and made a beeline for the door.
"Dr. Crane, I don't think it would be prudent to drive home just yet."
Niles froze in his tracks at the sound of her voice, but he didn't turn in her direction. He remained motionless, mutely facing the door, waiting for a further explanation for the warning given. The knuckles on his right hand blanched as he griped the handle on his briefcase harder.
"It's… it's just that the drops that you were administered won't wear off for at least another twenty minutes," Dr. Brightman said helpfully. "I've written out the prescription. Why don't you just visit "Vision Masters" and go someplace nearby and have a coffee? By that time your glasses should be ready and your eyes will be clear as well. Here, you'd better take this."
She held the piece of paper out towards him.
Niles' eyes scraped the floor as he turned around to retrieve the proffered note. He couldn't look her in the face. Too much emotional baggage was weighing him down at the moment to take that risk. He took the paper from her. He knew she could see that he was trembling, as his hand sought the sanctuary of his pocket once again.
"Thank you," he said in a low voice as he backed out of the room and fled.
Dr. Audrey Brightman went to the doorway and watched as the perplexing Dr. Crane rushed down the hall, bolted through the now empty waiting room and departed the building in a flurry.
"There's something intriguing about him," she thought. "Something that's hard to define… attractive in a way, an unusual sensitivity about him that I find engaging. In spite of all his peculiar behavior this afternoon, I can't help but feel for him. He seems vulnerable… a bit of an enigma, though. He is bright and charming one minute and a complete basket case the next. This isn't about glasses – it's something much deeper than that. He seems to be a very complex person… and I just happen to like complicated puzzles… "
Holding onto that thought she went over to the reception desk and checked the information that Niles had supplied the office with when he made his appointment.
"Hmm, Niles H. Crane: address - 2215 Williams Street. My, my, that's impressive! Down in the historical district. That's the Canfield House, if I know my local history well enough. Shows he has good taste! Home number, work number… hmm, isn't that the number for Western Washington? I wonder what direction he went? Probably down High Street and then over to… I must be out of my mind, but sometimes you just have to follow your instincts and see where they lead you."
She turned to her receptionist and decided it was time to take a chance.
"Marcie, I'm going out for a bit. Would you lock up, please?"
Niles practically flew to the optical shop and distractedly picked out a pair of rather plain, dark-rimmed wire frames. The clerk informed him they would be "Ready in, yes indeedy, one hour, sir".
"Very well," was all Niles said, and with that he was gone in a flash.
"I need some place to go to think!" he reasoned. "Some place close, but quiet enough to allow me personal space. I have to get a grip on things! I feel like I'm in a car and have no brakes! I've lost all my control because of … because of her."
He determined the perfect spot to ensconce himself was the nearby Café Toulouse. It had already become one of his favourite coffeehouses in Bellingham. It reminded him of his old rendezvous Nervosa, in Seattle.
"Minus Frasier, of course," Niles joked to himself when he first happened upon it.
It was close to the campus and his home, there was a sidewalk patio and the atmosphere was understated and amiable. Since it wasn't raining, he decided on "a la fresco", less crowded that way, and after what had just happened in the optometrist's office, Niles felt like he could really use some air.
He sat down and ordered a double decaf latte to steady his nerves. While waiting for his coffee to arrive he began to mull over the events of the past hour, like a recording with a skip in it. All the humiliation and yearnings he felt, inextricably tumbled about in his heart as well as his mind. Suddenly he had a desperate urge to feel grounded. He needed something to help him sort through his conflicting emotions. Niles reached instinctively into his shirt pocket and pulled out Daphne's locket.
"Like a Visa card – I never leave home without it," silently quipped Niles.
Looped through the gold chain was also his wedding band. He hadn't worn it since moving to Bellingham because too many prying questions would have to be answered if someone was too observant. It was better that way, he told himself repeatedly. That Pandora's Box wouldn't have to be opened at every introduction, and yet he could still feel both cherished items next to his beating heart throughout the day. He obstinately didn't want people's sympathy or understanding – he just wanted his privacy.
He ran his finger around the smooth edge of the ring, remembering the day Daphne confidently slipped it on his finger during their ceremony…
"To have and to hold,
from this day forth,
in sickness and in health,
'til death due us part…"
"No, they are wrong," Niles postulated. "Some marriages continue even after death. I could never betray Daphne… could I? "
He rubbed his eyes wearily. A cool shadow fell over his shoulder.
Niles turned and looked up to investigate the source of the obscuration.
He blinked twice just to make sure his still somewhat clouded eyes weren't playing tricks on him. There, standing behind him, silhouetted by the setting sun, was Dr. Brightman. As surreptitiously as possible, Niles returned the locket to it's hiding place.
"Dr. Brightman?" He tried to make his voice sound nonchalant. "Can I do something for you?"
At first she looked confidently down at him, but then as she opened her mouth to speak the self-assuredness in her just seemed to disappear.
"Oh… umm, Dr. Crane, I… well, to tell you the truth… you… you forgot to… to make a follow-up appointment when you left the office… and I wouldn't… wouldn't want you to think that I… I mean, we didn't care… care enough to be thorough."
Niles was experienced enough at flop-sweats to recognize that now it was Audrey Brightman who was having her own little panic attack. But the real question was – why?
"Does she feel some attraction to me?" he wondered. "Or am I just misreading her intentions? Oooh, I have never been very good at this sort of thing."
"Do you want me to go back now and make one?" Niles glanced at his watch. It was after 7:00 p.m. "I mean, if you think it is necessary, I'll do
it …but, isn't a little late?"
"Of course, you can always do it tomorrow by phone," she blushed. "It's just that I was just on my … my way… umm… and well, since I saw you here, the thought occurred to me that you… that I should remind you… " She trailed off. "Uhh… is anyone sitting there?"
"No, no one at all." Niles chivalrously cleared the seat of his briefcase. "Please… please, sit down."
"Once the sun starts to set, the evening air gets so cool," she said gathering her composure as she skipped around the sidewalk barricade.
"I usually stop by… here… to get warmed up with a cup of java."
"Oh?" Niles politely queried. "You live nearby?" He wasn't sure, but he didn't think he had ever seen her in the café. It could be that he just hadn't noticed her, but he was beginning to suspect that wasn't the case.
"Uh… no, I don't," she answered awkwardly. "I just like to unwind here, after work sometimes… occasionally – not often."
"I see…well, I sort of like this spot myself, Dr. Brightman" Niles opinioned.
"Please, it's Audrey… Audrey Brightman."
"Oh… first names?" Niles noted to himself. "This could be a sign of more than just sociable interest."
As if on cue, she looked up at that exact moment and her eyes met his with the force of a car crash.
"Oh, my God - no!" Niles wheezed. "Here we go again!"
His fingers gripped the sides of his coffee cup as if it was his only salvation.
"I… I'm Dr. Crane… I mean, Dr. Niles Crane. I mean… Niles Crane." he gasped. His eyes bulged out a bit and his eyebrows hit a record high on his forehead.
"Settle down you idiot!" he panicked to himself. "Just try and have a civil chat with this woman! You can do it, if you concentrate and get your mind out of the gutter!"
Niles started to fidget with his utensils on the table, polishing first the fork, then moving onto the spoon and knife. He managed to stop himself before he confiscated Audrey's set.
I know," Audrey flashed a smile. "It was on the form you filled out back at the office. Niles – that English, isn't it?"
"Yes… yes, basically, but our family has a little of everything mixed into it – even some Russian apparently," he said with an unintentional chuckle, thinking back to a certain clock a few years ago. Niles' nerves slowly started to abate.
"In truth, this could turn out to be enjoyable," he determined. "No matter what her motives. At least I am having an actual dialogue with someone who doesn't work with me, or that I teach."
"What's the "H" stand for?" Audrey's tone was a bit audacious. "Hlavacz?"
That was just too forward for Niles. His smile disappeared. An eyebrow arched in surprise and then shook his head, "I'd rather not say."
It wasn't that easy to break through his protective armor.
"Oh, sorry…" she said quietly, trying to atone for her boldness. "I was just curious… it was on your form too."
Conveniently, at that unsettling moment, a waitress appeared with Niles' drink and Audrey placed her order.
"We should have asked her to light the candle," Niles fussed. "It gets dark so much sooner now that autumn is here. But then, we have been lucky that we haven't had too much rain lately."
"I've got to think of something more interesting to talk about other than the weather," he bemoaned to himself. "She's going to get bored and leave and then - "
"So… you work at the university, Niles?"
Niles just looked at her in mild astonishment again. He really didn't know what to make of this woman.
"What else does she know about me?" he thought.
"I'm sorry! That must sound terribly nosy of me again! I didn't mean to pry, but it was on your form, as well… and I couldn't help but notice. At least… I recognized the phone number. We do a lot of business with the faculty… the office being so close and all… and besides you mentioned back in the office that you did a lot of reading… I just put two and two together and… So, umm, are you new?"
He could hear her breathe an anxious little sigh.
"Could it be that she is just as frightened of what seems to be happening as I am?" he wondered.
He began to scrutinize her face more carefully, looking for signs that would help clear up his confusion.
"She seems awfully interested in learning as much as she can about me," Niles ruminated. "Could it be possible that she has more than just a friendly interest? No, this is ridiculous! The woman's probably just naturally sociable. She more than likely has a husband and four kids!""
"Yes, I just started this semester. I moved up here from Seattle." he replied cautiously.
"Is that so!" Her voice seemed positively relieved that he wasn't too upset by her brazen blunder. "My mother lives in Seattle! Maybe you have heard of her? Martha Brightman? Well, truth is, she lives in Bellevue now. I was born in Bellingham, though."
"If her mother's name is Brightman as well, that means that it isn't likely she's married," Niles noted. "What am I doing? – making a play for her!
Stop that this instant! Just have a normal conversation with her."
"No, sorry, I don't think that name is familiar," Niles responded. "But Seattle is such a big place. That's one of the things that I am learning to enjoy about Bellingham – it's a good-sized city, but it isn't overwhelming like Seattle. Even the downtown area seems manageable."
"You live downtown, do you?" Audrey asked.
"Yes, yes, as a matter of fact, I do," Niles said proudly. "I bought the Canfield House just a few blocks from here. "
"The Canfield," her voice reverberated in awe. "That is a spectacular house! I've loved it ever since I was a little girl."
"Really?" Niles laughed. "Well since you're a native of Bellingham, you probably can tell me more about my house than I could!"
"Well, I could tell you a thing or two about the scandals that have reportedly happened there!" she replied delightedly. "First, did you know, they say that there is a ghost living in the attic…"
The waitress glided up, lit their candle and placed Audrey's coffee in front of her, departing as silently as she had come. Niles began to relax again and revel in the luxury of this moment. He found that he liked talking with Audrey. She was intelligent and had a quick wit about her. Their conversation drifted along in the cozy atmosphere of the early evening. The sultry sounds of the jazz music from the café spilled out onto the patio. The flickering flame of the candle sent playful patterns of shadow and light dancing across Audrey's face. She had an easy manner that Niles found himself envying. Her infectious laughter was like a tonic to his burdened soul. Niles found himself wishing this time would never end. It was like an ephemeral jewel of mellowness to be treasured in the sad pressured rush his life had become lately.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
The alarm on Niles' watch rudely interrupted, reminding him that it was approaching 8:00 o'clock and his glasses needed to be picked up.
"Sorry! I guess I'd better be off," he drained his cup and picked up his valise. "The store closes at 9:00. The sooner I start wearing my glasses, the sooner I will rid myself of these headaches."
"Would you object if I came along?" she said as her eyes opened wide with anticipation. "I'm curious as to what type of frame you would select. And… and I may be able to be of some assistance to you with the adjustment. After all, no one knows spectacles like an optometrist! Those store attendants are just amateurs."
Niles was somewhat startled again at her cheekiness, but he had to admit that he was certainly not displeased with her continued company.
He wanted to find out more about her… and she seemed to want to actually be with him!
"Well… well I… I guess when you present such a logical argument I can't see how I can say no. Shall we go?"
They strolled along together, discussing the pros and cons of moving into an older home.
"When I moved into my converted cottage by Lake Whatcom I found a whole family of raccoons living in the attic!" Audrey exclaimed. "It took forever to evict them! I was about to give up and charge them rent, they were there so long!"
"That's terrible! Didn't you have anyone to help you get rid of them?" Niles asked still surreptitiously digging for information.
"No, that's one of the disadvantages of living by yourself! No one to help you toss out unwanted houseguests!"
"Hmm… now I know she lives on her own," he thought.
"I know what you mean," Niles agreed. "I have to do the same for myself when my family comes to visit! The perils of living alone! But there are advantages too – you don't have many dishes to wash!"
He watched her facial expressions carefully and noted that she had picked up on his not so subtle clue as to his own status.
"And you never have to arm wrestle anyone for control of the remote control," Audrey giggled nervously. Niles arched his eyebrow at her comment. "Hmm… although I don't picture you as the type of person who would act so… impolitely… oh, here's the shop," she hastily added as she opened the door of the store. "Now let's see how those bifocals look on you."
Niles paid for his purchase and after what seemed like an interminable length of time, in which the all-together too perky store clerk fidgeted with his frames, Audrey gave them her official seal of approval and they exited the store.
"I think they look very good on you," she said with a characteristic touch of audacity that Niles was beginning to appreciate. "You look very handsome, very professorial!"
Niles smiled shyly. "Thank you." It had been quite a while since anyone had called him handsome. Inside he felt a warmth he hadn't experienced in a long time. He rode that blissful feeling for all it was worth. It felt good.
"Well, here we are," Audrey broke into his thoughts as they walked up to their cars. They were finally back at the now deserted parking lot. "This was really such a pleasant way to finish the day, just talking to you. I enjoyed it immensely… Niles."
"Well… thank you, again," even Niles was surprised by his calm deportment. "It was lovely talking to you too. And thank you for coming with me to the store. I…I enjoyed myself too… a lot… Dr… I mean, Audrey."
Audrey paused. Both of them seemed to want to hold onto the evening a little longer.
"Don't… don't forget to make a follow-up appointment, all right?"
Niles wondered whether he should shake her hand good bye.
"Would that be considered too formal or too forward? Oh God! Why doesn't some genius write a book about these sorts of things?" he fretted.
He shifted back and forth uncomfortably between one foot and the other.
"Yes – tomorrow's fine, right?" he muttered almost to himself. He really did want to touch her hand, but he wasn't sure he trusted himself to not start hyperventilating. Talking with her was one thing, but to feel her warm flesh pressed up against his...
"Would it be so wrong?" he justified. "People shake hands every day, right? It's no big deal!"
Niles bit his lip. He felt like a teenager at a school dance.
"Well, take care driving and I'm sure you'll find that the glasses will make a world of difference. Good night, Niles."
And with those words, Audrey took a tiny lunge forward and grasped his hand in hers. Niles' eyes leapt up to meet hers. He responded with a firmness in his grip that seemed to surprise her. There was a strength in him that wasn't obvious.
"Yes… good night," he repeated. His face briefly flushed with exhilaration. Then he hastily gained control and returned to a more staid manner.
"I guess that went pretty smooth," he thought elatedly. "Well… at least I didn't go completely apoplectic this time. It seems to be improving."
There was nothing left to do but get in their respective vehicles and drive away. Niles just stood by his car door for a few minutes sorting through his keys. He sensed that Audrey was watching him in her rear-view mirror as she drove down the street.
"I wonder if Dr. Audrey Brightman will ever want to talk to Dr. Niles Crane again?" he sighed. "And I wonder if I should go down this path so soon? Was I just getting carried away tonight with the heady feeling of having some female attention lavished on me? Or was it something more?
And if it was – am I ready to take that step? So many questions."
Niles pushed his new glasses up on his forehead and rubbed his eyes. He watched as Audrey's car rounded the corner and disappeared from his view.
"I've got to talk to someone about this," he decided. "I'm getting into the type of unfamiliar territory that I just don't think I can handle on my own. I need input from someone who has experience with these feelings. I've got to call Dad. He'll be able to help. Dad will know what to do. I've… I've got to call him tonight. "
"Hey Frasier, sorry to bother you so late. No, no there's no emergency! Everything is fine. Listen, is Dad there? I need to talk to him. No, I don't mind talking to you - it's just that I'd like to talk to Dad right now, all right?
No, I'm not upset with you. Frasier… Frasier, can you put Dad on, please!
OH! LET IT GO! Just get Dad, will you!"
Niles took some deep breaths and calmed himself down by the time Martin got on the line.
"Is Frasier still there? You're in your own room? Good. Listen Dad, I don't know how to say this quite, but I figure you're the only person who would be able to understand… so I'll just come right out and say it. I met someone… yes, a woman… who else? Anyway, we just had a coffee and talked a bit – nothing more really. What do you mean, is she pretty? Well, if you must know - yes, yes she is rather attractive! What does she do? She's an optometrist. Well, I met her because I needed to get glasses. Yes, yes… just like my "old man"! Dad… getting back to the point… I met this woman… Oh, all right – her name is Audrey…Dr. Audrey Brightman. There, you satisfied? Can we stay on track here, Dad? Well anyway… Oh God! This is so embarrassing to talk about! Don't laugh, all right? How can I say this? Dad, I really enjoyed talking with her tonight! I'd like to see her again but I… I don't know if I'm ready or not yet. How did you know? How did you know when it was time to allow yourself to feel again?"
Niles started crying. He didn't mean to. It was just that sometimes his loneliness overpowered him and got the better of him. He was glad his father waited patiently, without even making one smart crack about "wussies" or "wimps", while he composed himself. He was grateful that when he needed Martin to be at his understanding fathering best, he was all that, and more.
"So… so you felt like this when Mom died? It's natural to be this scared? Really? You did too? How did you handle it? Well, yes, just talking about it with you here does help a lot. Ohh! That's when you and Duke became such good friends. I didn't ever realize… that makes sense now. I know… I know how much Mom meant to you… Yes, I feel that way about Daphne too, Dad. Thanks, thanks Dad. They were both very precious people to us, weren't they?" Niles fell silent for a few moments, thankful that his father took over the conversation for a bit. "But then Sherry came… oh, I forgot… Irene was the first time you went on a date. Yes, Frasier and Daphne did help you out then, didn't they? No, I guess it didn't mean that you loved Mom any less. Uh huh, I know… Yes, that's right… I remember now. And when Sherry came along it happened all over again? That was rough on you wasn't it Dad? Everyone needs some sort of companionship, don't they? Frasier told you that? Yes, Mom was very wise… a lot like Daphne really. Daphne said the same thing to me – "I want you to be happy". But do you really think she meant happy in that way? You know this could lead to more than just talking and holding hands. It could involve… Yess… I know that everybody needs… I… I know that se…sex… sex is important. Remember that I'm a psychiatrist – our whole business is about sex! O.K., I'll give you that - we always just talk about sex! Yes, yes, I know there is a difference!"
Niles laughed in spite of himself. It felt good to talk to his father like this. For once the barriers were down. He felt like he was talking to a kindred spirit - someone who knew what he was going through.
"Listen Dad, I think I should go get some rest. It's late and I have an early class tomorrow. I want to thank you again, Dad… No, no, you really have helped. I've got some more things to sort out in my mind, but this has really been beneficial tonight. Dad… Dad… I think I decided that I will see Audrey again. Well, that is, if she wants to, of course! Yes, well, I think she would like that too. I think there might be some attraction there on her part. She seems very tolerant of me. Yes, I know… that does practically make her a saint… yes. Very funny, Dad. Yes, well, I think I'll take it slow for right now. It's been good talking about this with you. And Dad, you can tell Frasier what we talked about tonight… just not every detail, all right? Thanks Dad. Good night and… and one more thing… I love you, Dad."
Niles hung up the phone and turned out the lights. Suddenly he reached out in the darkness and seized the compass sitting on his nightstand. Tucking it into his pajama pocket he patted it reassuringly and closed his eyes.
A little help from whatever source couldn't hurt. One very lonely Dr. Niles H. Crane was desperate to start living again.
End of Part Four (to be continued)