(April 3rd, 1959)

Frasier sat in the hallway in the chair that was much too big for him. His little legs dangled over the side and his feet a long way from the ground.

Beside him sat Ronee, the only babysitter he'd ever known. She was young; a lot younger than his parents, but still older than he. She was in high school, a place that Frasier couldn't even imagine ever attending. But it must have been a fun place, the way Ronee spoke of it whenever she'd lain on their couch, talking on the phone.

On those nights, even when she'd sent Frasier to bed, she didn't think that he could hear her on the phone, talking to whomever she was talking to. She laughed and carried on, telling stories about things that happened to her in high school she talked about boys and cheer leading, football games and dances and then listened intently to what was being said on the other line. And then then she would burst out laughing, startling Frasier just a little. Why someone would find school so funny was beyond him. He certainly didn't. But he was only in Kindergarten. Maybe, just maybe, high school was different.

He looked at Ronee now, but she didn't look back. Her nose was stuck in some sort of magazine; Seventeen magazine. He scrunched up his face. Why would anyone want to read a magazine about the number seventeen? He couldn't even count that many numbers on two hands!

He was still trying to find out what was so interesting about what she was reading when the door across the hall from him opened. His father stepped out, looking exactly like one of the doctors that Frasier had seen on television. He wore a pale yellow pair of pants and a short sleeved shirt in the same color, along with a mask that covered ships nose and mouth. When he looked at Frasier, he pulled the mask from his face, revealing a smile.

Ronee put down her magazine and rose to her feet. "Mr. Crane…"

"Hey Fras!" His dad said the huge smile still on his face. But his voice was quiet, as though he was trying not to disturb anyone. "Come and meet your new brother!"

Frasier looked down at his dangling feet and began to worry. There was no way he'd be able to get out of the chair without help. Luckily his father chose that moment to lift him into his arms and carry him to the door.

"We'll be back in a bit, Ronee!"

"Okay, tell Mrs. Crane congratulations!" Ronee replied. "And congratulations to you too, sir!"

"Thanks, and I'll tell her!"

His dad put Frasier down and knocked lightly on the door. As he pushed the door open, Frasier grabbed his dad's hand and timidly followed him into the room.
He could see his mother in the bed holding a bundle wrapped in a blue blanket in her arms. He could feel his heart pounding as his dad guided him closer to his mother, who smiled at him.

"Hi, honey. There's someone we'd like you to meet." When she moved the blanket back, Frasier could just make out the small baby that lay in his mother's arms.

"Well, there he is!" his dad said, wearing a proud smile. "Frasier, say hello to your new brother!"

But Frasier grabbed onto his dad's leg held on tight. His dad only chuckled and gave him a gentle hug.

"I don't want to." Frasier said.

"Aw, come on, Fras-."

"I don't like him."

His parents laughed. "Frasier, it's all right. He's just a baby. He won't hurt you."

Frasier looked at his mom and pouted. "I don't care! I don't like him!"

He saw his mom look worriedly at his dad and then back at Frasier. "Sweetheart, why don't you like your brother?"

Frasier tried really hard to keep from crying, but it didn't do much good. He didn't want his parents to see him crying. Only babies cried. But his brother was a baby and he wasn't crying.

His dad scooped him into his arms so that he could see the baby better. And this time he could see the baby's blue eyes and pink lips. He had the tiniest hands that Frasier had ever seen. But he wasn't about to give in.

"I still don't like him."

"But why not?" His mother asked. "You've only just met!"

"Because-."

"Fras, that's not an answer and you know it!" His father said. "Now what in the hell is going on?"

"Shh! Marty, don't say 'hell' in front of the baby!"

"Why the hell not?" His dad shot back. "He doesn't understand what the word means!"

When Frasier's mom gave his dad one of her looks that meant business, his father held up his hands, the way bad guys did on television before the cops carted them off to jail.

"All right, Fine. I'm sorry Hester. But Fras-."

"Timmy said that when the new baby comes-."

His mother's eyes widened. "Frasier what were you doing playing with Timmy from next door?"

Frasier shrugged. "I wasn't. His football rolled onto our driveway and I gave it back to him."

This earned him a smile from his mother. "Well, thank you. "Well that was nice of you, Frasier."

"Thank you." Frasier replied. "I was going to ask him to show me how to make a basket too, but then he said-."

"A basket?" His dad burst into the conversation. "But Frasier you don't make baskets with foot-."

His mother gave his father the look again and his father said nothing more about it. But then he heard his mother spoke once more. "Frasier, what did Timmy tell you?"

"He said that you and Dad can only love one baby at a time and when the new baby comes you won't love me anymore!"

His mother handed the baby to his father and carefully lifted Frasier onto the bed beside her.

"Frasier, what Timmy told you was wrong. Mommies and Daddies have more than enough love for all of their children to go around, no matter how many they have!

Just because Niles is here doesn't mean that we will love you any less."

Now it was Frasier who was surprised. "Niles? His name is Niles?"

His mother looked at his father who nodded. "Yeah, I guess Niles is as good a name as any." His dad agreed.

"It's a nice name." His mother said. "Funny that I just thought of it now, looking at him."

"Niles." Frasier repeated. "I like it." And then he turned to Niles who was in his father's arms. "Can I hold him?"

As he expected, his parents exchanged worried glances and then his father nodded. He handed Niles back to his mom and then situated Frasier onto the bed.

"Now, stay still, all right? And hold out your arms."

Frasier did as he was told, holding out his arms in front of him the way he'd seen zombies do it in the monster movies on TV. The ones he wasn't supposed to watch but did any way when Ronee was around.

"Aw geez Fras, not like that! Here! Do it like this!" He re-positioned Frasier's arms closer to his body. "Now be still because I'm going to give you the baby!"

Very slowly he put Niles into Frasier's arms. "Don't drop him! Put your hand beside his head!"

"Marty, he's doing fine, just relax!" His mother said.

Frasier held on tight, unable to believe that he was really holding a baby. And not just any baby. His baby brother.

"Whoa! How do you like that, Hester?" his dad exclaimed, taking picture after picture until Frasier's eyes hurt from the flashes of light. "Frasier, you're an old pro! How does it feel?"

Frasier looked at Niles who squirmed in his arms. It was a little like holding a puppy; not that he'd ever held a puppy. But this was no puppy. He studied Niles' tiny face and hands. The baby's eyes were wide as he looked at Frasier. And then the most amazing thing happened.

The baby, Niles, smiled at him.

"Well, Fras, how do you like your little brother?" HIs dad asked.

Once again, Frasier looked at his parents and then smiled, kissing Niles's forehead. It was as soft as silk.

"I love you, Niles."

THE END