Two days later, Hawkeye was sitting in his office at the practice, feeling heartsick. B.J. had gone back home and Hawkeye was lost without him. He was aching for him.

Yes, they had to figure out their logistics very soon.

In between appointments, he sat there at his desk and absently drummed his fingers on the stack of medical charts. He could barely concentrate on work. He wasn't doing anyone any good if he couldn't put his heart into treating patients.

There was a rap at the door and Jim entered, holding out a chart. "Hawkeye? You left Mrs. Corbett's chart in exam room 2. Here you go."

Case in point: leaving charts lying around. Get your head in the game, Pierce.

"Thanks, Jim."

"Everything OK?" his partner asked, clearly having noticed Hawkeye's funk.

"Just preoccupied, that's all. I'm OK." Except for the little matter of my soul mate being 3000 miles away.

"Well if you need time off again, by all means take it. I am more than happy to fill in for you anytime, Hawkeye. I'm just so happy to be working here—it's the perfect fit for me."

"For me too, Jim. You've been great, which I probably don't tell you often enough. The patients adore you." He smirked. "And that's no mean feat. These people were loyal as hell to my father, and it took them forever to accept me."

As Jim laughed, Hawkeye replayed what he'd just said in his head, and the wheels started to turn.

"Hey, Dad. How are you doing tonight?"

"I'm all right, son."

As Hawkeye studied his dad's face, he saw recognition and clarity. Good signs. He set up the checkers board on the tray table and sat opposite Daniel, deciding to just launch into it… no point in stalling. "Hey, have you ever been to California?"

His dad barked a laugh. "If I have, do you really think I'd remember?"

Typical Daniel Pierce: finding humor even in his own neurological disorder.

"Well, it's very pretty there. Lots of sunshine, nowhere near as cold as it gets here."

"Are you telling me this for a reason?"

Hawkeye jumped a checker over one of Daniel's pieces. "Yeah, Dad, I am." He leaned forward, nervous. "Not too long ago, we sat in this room at this very same checkers board, and you told me you wanted me to be happy."

"I do. Want you to be happy."

"I know, Dad. And the thing is, I've found someone who makes me very happy."

"You did?" Daniel was beaming. "That's wonderful, son!"

"I hope you still think so once I've told you that it's… it's B.J."

A long beat. Daniel's smile faded a bit. "Your friend B.J., your buddy from Korea?"

Hawkeye nodded, rendered mute.

Daniel took a long time to process that information. Hawkeye's knee began to jiggle up and down, coming dangerously close to knocking the checkers board off the table.

His dad was saying absolutely nothing, and Hawkeye couldn't help himself… he had to fill the silence. "He and I have started a relationship—this isn't a one-sided thing, if that's what you're thinking. We've decided we want to be together."

Finally Daniel lifted his eyes. "Isn't he married?"

"He's getting a divorce."

"Because of you?"

"No, not because of me. He and his wife drifted apart. It happens."

Another very long pause. Hawkeye was well aware this was shocking news, so he summoned all the patience he had, waiting for his father to absorb and understand. Meanwhile, the checkers game had come to a halt.

"If you settle down with a man, you won't have children." Daniel's voice was surprisingly calm and gentle.

"He has a daughter, Erin. I adore her. You actually met her once, when they were out here visiting."

"I think I remember that. She was cute."

"As a button." Hawkeye spread his hands. "Anyway, I'll help to raise her. I don't know if I'll be any good at it—parenting. But I'll do the best I can."

Daniel was nodding but still looked lost in thought. Hawkeye, figuring that at least the old man wasn't angry or appalled, carried on with the next part of the story: "B.J. lives out near San Francisco, which you might remember. And I want us—you and me—to move out there. We can find you a nursing home out there just as nice as this one is. Maybe nicer."

Silence.

"And I would still visit you nearly every day, that wouldn't change."

Silence.

"I love him, Dad. And he needs to be out there, because that's where his daughter is, and I can't live without him in my life. I can't." He got choked up as he said that last part, and he cleared his throat, embarrassed.

Then finally Daniel did speak, and his question was a good one. "What about the practice?"

Hawkeye nodded. The poor man was getting shocking blow after shocking blow, and here came number three. "I think Jim will be happy to take it over for me… for us. He is an excellent doctor, and he loves family practice, and the patients love him. I haven't talked to him about it yet, but I'm pretty sure he'd be willing to fly solo."

And now they were back to the silence. Hawkeye put a hand on his dad's knee, waited for eye contact. "Please just think it over, OK? I know I have given you a whole shitload of news just now, one thing after another, and it's a lot to take in. So as long as you agree to think about it, then you don't have to say anything else right now."

His dad covered the hand on his knee with his own. "Hawkeye, if B.J. makes you happy, and you're sure about this—which you seem to be—then I don't have to think it over. You're my son. You and I, we've been through it all together, haven't we?"

Hawkeye nodded, tears threatening.

"Since we lost your mom up to right now, we've always leaned on each other, stood by each other, took on the world together. My memory may not be too good, but I know that much. Of course I'll go to California. My place is with my son."

Hawkeye did topple the checkers board then, as he rushed into his dad's arms.

"I'll miss the lobster, though," Daniel mumbled into Hawkeye's chest, and Hawkeye felt a sharp pang of sorrow in the midst of his elation.