Frasier couldn't stop grinning. "Dad? Would you come into the living room, please? I have a surprise for you!"
Martin shuffled into the living room as quickly as his cane would allow, Eddie trotting behind. But Frasier stopped him to keep him from moving any further.
"Oh geez, a surprise? You know, every time you say that something is a surprise it ends up being a complete nightmare!"
Frasier rolled his eyes at the unexpected, hurtful comment. "It does not! And cover your eyes, okay?"
Martin covered his eyes. "This is stupid! And besides, it seems you've forgotten about the last time you gave me a surprise." He made imaginary quotes in the air with his fingers. "I ended up with a rash!"
"Well, Dad, that wasn't entirely my fault! I mean, who knew you were going to be allergic to the fabric of that sweater?"
"All right, just forget it. I appreciated the gesture anyway. Even though I appreciated the lotion that Dr. Branson gave me even more."
"Well, I promise you won't get a rash from this. Although…"
"Okay, wise guy. What's it going to be this time? A pair of pants that will give me poison ivy?"
"Dad, please! Look, if you don't want my surprise, I'll just take it back! But I'll have you know that I went to a lot of trouble to get it for you. And it's something I know you want!"
Martin stared at him for a moment. "Don't tell me that it's another chair."
Frasier laughed. "Well..."
"Oh geez! Look, Fras, I appreciate the thought and all, but that chair… well, it wasn't me! And I'm not comfortable sitting anywhere else. Why do you think I've spent so much time in the bedroom? I can sit on the bed and watch TV with a Ballantine in hand. Of course it's not easy, making the trek back and forth to the kitchen."
"Oh, Dad, will you just be quiet for a minute and I'll show you!"
Dramatically, Frasier stepped back. "Okay, open your eyes!"
Martin's eyes widened. "Whoa! It's my chair! I thought it was gone forever!" He walked toward it, like he was greeting a long lost friend.
"Well, I did too, actually, but I didn't stop looking. I was determined to find it."
Martin settled himself into the chair and sighed. "Oh, it's just like I remembered! Gee, I've missed this chair!"
"Dad, it's only been a few days!"
"To you, maybe! To me it was like a lifetime!"
"It's just a chair!"
"I thought we'd already been through this! It may be just a chair to you, but to me… well, we already went over that! This chair means the world to me! I thought you understood that!"
"Well, I do, Dad! And that speech you gave about sitting in that chair when I told you that you were going to be a grandfather, and watching Neil Armstrong on the moon, and Mom…" Frasier's heart ached. "Oh Dad…"
"All right, all right. Don't start getting mushy on me. Just… well, thanks, Fras."
"You're welcome, Dad. You know, in a very… well, strange way, I missed this chair in my living room."
"You did?"
"Well, it's not at all attractive and it doesn't go with anything here, but… It's yours, Dad."
"Thanks, Fras."
"Certainly. Well, I'll leave you to your program, or your ball game."
"You want to join me? The Mariners are going to start playing in a few minutes. They're playing the Yankees. Should be a good one."
"Oh Dad, I don't know. Baseball's not really my thing."
"What's to know? Grab us a couple of beers and have a seat!"
Frasier smiled. "You know? I think I will!"
He grinned all the way to the kitchen. When he returned to the living room, he could hear the roar of the crowd. He handed his dad a beer and sat down on the sofa, placed the can carefully on a coaster and then stood, placing his hand over his heart.
The close up of a man standing in center field filled the screen. The man sang the National Anthem, prompting Frasier to put his hand on his chest in a moment of solitude. He could feel his father's rolling eyes and waited for the inevitable "Oh geez…" followed by a familiar comment. But to his credit, his father said nothing, until the song was over. And then he shouted;
"Play Ball!"