December 12, 1980
Hutch found Starsky in the kitchen, wadding up a newspaper and stuffing it into a cardboard box. “Is that my Christmas present? Should I close my eyes?” he joked.
But there was none of the carol humming or cookie munching that usually accompanied Starsky’s holiday wrapping jobs. Starsky just kept his attention on whatever was in the box. His mood would have been unreadable to anyone else, but Hutch knew that face. It meant Starsky was trying to deal with some strong emotions.
He moved to stand behind him and put an arm around his waist, feeling the tension in Starsky’s frame. “Starsk, what’s going on?”
“Nothing… just…packing this up to ship to Ma.”
Hutch peered into the box and saw the freshly polished menorah nestled in wads of paper.
“Why?”
“We were talking about Hanukkah. She said she’d thought about it and since it’s a family heirloom that Nicky should have it, so it could still get passed down to the next Starsky generation.”
Hutch was stunned. He knew Perla wasn’t happy with their relationship, but to take back the menorah? Starsky’s great-grandfather had run into a burning synagogue to rescue the Torah and menorah. The Torah had been used to start a new congregation in a new land, but the menorah had stayed in the family, passed from father to first-born son. A legacy of bravery and dedication that his partner had lived every day on the streets.
“Oh, babe.” Hutch pulled him closer, pressing a kiss into the curls.
“No, she’s right. It’s the only heirloom the Starsky family’s got and it should be passed down. And since I’m not going to give her a grandson, Nick should have it. He’s doing great now. Ma thinks he’s going to propose to Candace soon, so it should go to him.”
As much as Hutch wanted to vent his opinion of Perla’s passive-aggressive tactics, he kept it to himself. He gave Starsky another hug. “I’m sorry, babe. I know what it represents, what it means to you. I never thought–”
“Hutch, don’t.” Starsky shook his head. “You didn’t cause this, so don’t start apologizing. To me, Ma asking for this back means she’s accepting that we’re real.” He paused, drew a deep breath and Hutch felt the shift of tense muscles. He could feel his partner letting go of the hurt, moving past it and getting on with life. Starsky turned in his arms to give him a quick kiss before adding, “Besides, you’re loads more fun to light up than a menorah. And it’s not like I’m giving up the Torino!”
Hutch recognized the unspoken request to let it go, so he heaved an exaggerated sigh and said, “Thanks. Nice to know I’m so highly prized.” Then he gave Starsky’s ass a firm slap, just the way he liked.
“Mmm.” Starsky wiggled against him. “Do that again.”
Hutch obliged, and Starsky started maneuvering them towards the bedroom. “Tell you what, you can show me all the ways you can be more fun than my car and maybe I’ll revise your ranking.”
Later, as Hutch was on the edge of sleep, Starsky quietly said. “It’s not like I’m that religious or anything.”
“We can always buy a menorah. I know it won’t be a replacement, but we’ll have one of our own to use, if you want to.”
“Yeah… yeah, I guess so.”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Go to sleep, babe.”
Starsky replied with an affectionate sounding mumble followed by a light snore.
Hutch whispered, “Thank you for choosing us,” into a curl-covered ear before falling asleep in Starsky’s arms.
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