Christmas Joy

133

An unexpected guest with an even more unexpected problem threatens to put a damper on holiday plans.

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Hutch was at the mall. He was sitting on a bench in the mall eight days before Christmas, and to his great surprise, he was happy to be there. His only real problem was the struggle to sit in the mall eight days before Christmas without a sappy grin on his face.

The knowledge that this was the last shopping trip of the season fueled Hutch’s happiness. Gifts purchased during this outing would be added to the others and then wrapped and delivered, or shipped, over the next four days. After that, he and Starsky were headed to Tahoe for a Christmas ski vacation. They had scrimped and saved for most of the year to be able to give each other this gift for Christmas, and as he sat envisioning the experience, Hutch couldn’t help but dream of days spent on the slopes and nights curled up together by the fire. It was all he had thought about for months, and Starsky had to keep reminding him to wipe the sappy grin off his face.

Hutch stood and waved as the primary reason for his happiness emerged from the record store across the way. He smiled and then laughed as Starsky tried to cross the walkway and was caught in a crowd of people that moved him halfway to the next store before he could maneuver himself into a stream of people moving back towards Hutch’s bench. He was almost swept past but managed to work his way out of the throng and collapse on the bench with a groan.

“Jeez, it’s like a zoo around here,” Starsky complained, adding two packages to the ones at Hutch’s feet.

“Not to say I told you so…” Hutch said, reaching down to ensure the shopping bags were securely tucked around them.

“Since when?” Starsky snorted and leaned back to catch his breath.

Even though he agreed with Starsky’s assessment of the place and was eager to leave, Hutch opted to let his partner rest without interruption for a few minutes. The atrium center, normally a relatively calm place with fountains and soft music, was anything but on this Saturday. Children overwhelmed by too much sugar and not enough attention bounced all over the place, creating a cacophony of screeches and shrieks that he was certain would– if he stayed here any longer– curl his hair as tight as Starsky’s.

Suddenly, Hutch felt a tug on his sleeve.

“Coffee shop?” Starsky pointed towards the opposite end of the mall.

Hutch smiled. “I can do you one better. Restaurant bar.” He turned and pointed to the other side of the atrium.

“That’s real? I thought it was a mirage.” Starsky stood and began collecting packages. “Any of these bags got food in ’em? We might have to eat it to survive if we get stranded trying to cross. It could be days before we see the other side.”

Laughing, Hutch preceded his partner, efficiently navigating through the tiny tots’ playground and around the line of suddenly angelic little monsters waiting to see Santa. As they approached the other side of the mall, Starsky was close on Hutch’s heels. Despite an equally thick crowd on this side of the atrium, a gap somehow opened up just as they approached, and they crossed the walkway with little effort.

“Damn, you’re like Moses or something,” Starsky muttered as he passed through the door held open for him.

Once inside the restaurant’s bar, they found a booth overlooking the mall’s interior. Starsky slid into his seat but immediately slid back out and looked around the dimly lit room. “Where do you think–?”

“Behind you. What do you want to order?”

“Beer and something,” Starsky called over his shoulder as he headed to the men’s room.

After giving the waitress his order, Hutch watched the people parading past the window. His eyes danced from face to face while he quickly compared the features to those cataloged in his mind. I’ll never find her again, Hutch thought, and then silently cursed himself. He’d sworn he wouldn’t think about her anymore this Christmas; he’d let her memory sit quietly in the background where it had resided for so many years now, but something about this Christmas had made him more curious about her: some kind of niggling worry wouldn’t let go.

Starsky plopped into the seat opposite him just as the waitress delivered their beers, and Hutch smiled at his partner enthusiastically quenching his thirst. It wouldn’t be long before Starsky’s energy was restored and his seemingly irrepressible holiday spirit returned. Hutch could never admit it, but he was actually enjoying this pre-Christmas rush. The holiday would never hold the same joy for him that it did for Starsky, but he found it at least tolerable now. Perhaps the upcoming ski trip, or maybe just that he was with Starsky– really with him this year– made the whole experience more enjoyable.

The waitress reappeared with a large platter, which she set before them with a flourish. “Watch out; it’s hot,” she warned, laughing when Starsky promptly burned his fingers trying to shift the platter around.

Hutch rolled his eyes and said, “Thanks anyway. Some people can’t be taught.”

Starsky leaned forward and inhaled the steam rising from the plate. “What’s this?”

“Some kind of deep-fried nacho crap.”

“How’d you know that’s what I wanted?” Starsky asked, eagerly tucking his napkin into his open shirt collar.

Hutch eyed the platter dubiously. “Easy. I just looked for the one thing I was least likely to order and went with that.”

“You didn’t order anything?”

“No, I’ll just nibble some of yours.” Hutch felt his cheeks grow warm as Starsky raised his eyebrow suggestively. Smiling and wagging his finger, he warned, “Don’t start.”

Starsky grinned and began plowing through the nachos while Hutch turned back to watching the crowd go by.

“You think about her a lot this time of year, don’t you?” Starsky asked around a mouthful of nachos.

“Who?” Hutch tried to act nonchalant, but the effort was half-hearted. Starsky knew.

“You know exactly who I mean. It’s only natural you’d think about her. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

Hutch gave in with a sigh. “She deserved so much more, Starsk. You know?”

“Yeah, I know. But you–could I get some more napkins, please?” Starsky asked the passing waitress. “Look, you did a lot for her. ‘S probably the first time anyone paid that much attention to her. You did the best you could, Hutch. Let yourself off the hook.”

Hutch pulled his eyes away from the window and nodded. “You’re right. I know you’re right, but I still can’t help wondering what happened to her, what kind of person she turned out to be.” He stared at a spot on the wall somewhere above Starsky’s head and remembered the Christmas that Molly Edwards had captured his heart.

He had felt a connection to her from the start. His partner had teased him for taking Molly in, but Starsky had been just as bad. Molly had told Hutch about the money Starsky stuffed in her pocket, but he’d never told Starsky he knew about it. Instead, he let his partner act out his caring-but-aloof pretensions.

Hutch couldn’t have pretended to be aloof if he had tried. Something about her, some combination of fear and defiance, drew him in and made him want to comfort and protect her. When he saw the conditions in which she lived, he’d been hooked, and after her father’s murder, there was no turning back. He had tried to let her cry herself to sleep that first night, but he finally gave in to the sounds of her tears and went to comfort her, holding her small, trembling body as she sobbed even harder, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing but inane words of solace until she finally fell asleep. Without anyone to comfort him, sleep had eluded Hutch for hours. For some reason, his thoughts had turned to Starsky, wondering if he might have been given a glimpse into Starsky’s past.

More than once over the following days, Hutch had observed that the loss of a father was not all that Molly and Starsky shared. She rebounded in that spirited, determined way that Starsky so often did, and in the end, she overwhelmed him with her loyalty. She had not only saved his life–somewhere along the way, she had forever stolen a piece of his heart.

Hutch had tried to keep in touch with Molly even after their plans for Mrs. Ramos to adopt her fell through and Molly was returned to her foster home. Mrs. Williams allowed Hutch to take Molly to Opening Day at Dodgers’ Stadium, and he had telephoned every now and then just to chat. As so often happened in any of his relationships, though, the calls occurred less frequently and eventually stopped altogether. Hutch had been shocked when Perkowitz bounded into the office and announced the Williams’s successful adoption of Molly and re-location to a small town outside Bay City.

“They could have let her call to say goodbye at least,” Hutch had ranted to Starsky. “It’s not like they didn’t know how to find us.”

“Hutch, it’s not all bad. She has a family now. Besides, that Mrs. Williams seemed to love Molly. I’m sure it’s all okay.” Starsky’s words had fallen on deaf ears.

“The woman is an idiot, and you know it. She didn’t begin to understand Molly–”

When Hutch couldn’t complete the thought, Starsky had somehow known that the emotion wasn’t from Molly’s adoption, but guilt for not keeping in touch with her. Starsky had offered the only comfort he’d known how back then. He’d taken Hutch to Huggy’s and gotten him good and plastered. The resulting hangover prevented Hutch from talking about Molly or much of anything else the next day, and he hadn’t wanted to talk about her in the days after that.

But he thought about her from time to time and always at Christmas….

“If you want some of this, you better get it before it gets cold.”

“Huh?” Hutch blinked himself back to the present to find Starsky motioning to the plate of rapidly congealing goo in front of him. “Oh, no thanks. That’s disgusting.”

“‘S good,” Starsky said with a wink. “Weren’t you gonna nibble something?”

Hutch smiled and felt heat in his cheeks again. “Later. Much later.”

~~~

Just as the last gift had been wrapped to Starsky’s satisfaction, a knock sounded at the front door. Caught transferring an armload of gifts to their designated holding space in the spare room, Hutch yelled for Starsky to answer the door while he continued storing packages. When he finally returned to the living room, he was surprised to find Starsky still at the front door, embracing a petite, young woman. At least that’s whom he thought Starsky was embracing; from the back it was hard to tell. The short, stylishly spiky hair indicated youth and the shape appeared to be feminine, but the jeans and green army jacket prevented him from being certain of the gender.

The jacket registered in his mind at the same instant the young woman pulled herself from Starsky’s embrace to whisper, “Is he here?”

Hutch took one step closer and then stopped, suddenly unsure of what he was seeing. “Molly?”

At the sound of Hutch’s voice, Molly Edwards turned around and hesitated for only a fraction of a second before throwing herself into Hutch’s arms. Hutch joyously embraced her with a big, bear hug so intense it lifted her small frame off the floor. His joy slowly faded when he tried to break away to get a better look at her and discovered that Molly had a death-grip on his neck. It was only then that his hands felt the tremors along her back and he realized she was crying.

“Shhh,” he soothed. “It’s okay. You’re here now.” Standing there letting her cry into his shoulder, he continued petting along Molly’s back. Though only dimly aware of Starsky leaving the room, Hutch heard him return. A wad of tissues was pushed into Hutch’s hand before he heard Starsky retreat to the kitchen.

“C’mon, now.” Hutch pulled Molly to the sofa and eased her down, keeping one arm tightly around her shoulders. When Molly turned tear-filled eyes up to him, Hutch felt the years fall away and knew that whatever had brought Molly back to them was as equal in importance to her as her father’s death.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to cry,” Molly whispered. She took the tissues Hutch offered and wiped her eyes.

“It’s okay.” Hutch tried to smile encouragingly. “Now, I want to get a good look at you, but first I need to know if you’re hurt. Physically, I mean.”

Molly shook her head. “No, I’m not hurt.”

“You want some tea or something?”

Again, Molly shook her head. “Maybe in a few minutes.” She flopped against the back of the sofa. “God, I’m so tired.”

Hutch shifted sideways and rested an arm along the back of the sofa. He knew he should offer Molly a place to rest, but he really wanted to get to the bottom of what was bothering her first. He picked at the spiky ends of her hair. “You cut your hair. No ponytails.”

“Yeah, it’s easier this way.” Molly smoothed her hair self-consciously. “Guess it’s been awhile since we’ve seen each other.”

“Too long.” Hutch turned serious. “Look, Molly, I’m sorry for not doing a better job of keeping in touch with you. I meant to….” He shrugged and dropped a hand on her shoulder.

Molly shook her head. “Don’t do that, Hutch. You had stuff going on. I know that; I knew it then, too. Besides, I knew how to find you when I needed to, didn’t I?” She smiled fully for the first time since he’d come into the room.

“Now that you mention it, how did you find me? I moved.”

“It wasn’t easy. First, I went to your old apartment, but obviously you weren’t there. Then I called Old Lady Perkowitz, but I guess she doesn’t work there anymore.” Molly’s eyebrows rose into question marks.

“She does, but she’s Old Lady–I mean, Mrs. Jannsen now. She got married a couple of years ago.”

“Oh. Well, then I tried to find Kiko, but he moved, too, and I didn’t have his address. Then I remembered Huggy Bear and went to The Pits.”

As if on cue, the phone rang. They listened to Starsky’s side of the conversation in the kitchen. “Yeah, she’s here. Yeah. Thanks.”

Starsky leaned into the room. “Huggy says there’s a beautiful young woman on her way to see us. You guys keep an eye out for her, ‘kay?”

Molly rolled her eyes. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

“Hard to mess with perfection.” Starsky used the cover of a smile to send Hutch a questioning look. When Hutch nodded, Starsky went back into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with two bottles of beer and a bottle of soda.

Molly laughed when she saw the soda. “I can have beer now, you know.”

“What?” Hutch nearly dropped his bottle.

“Yep. I turned eighteen two months ago.” Molly laughed again as Starsky plopped into a chair, his hand over his heart in faked shock. “God, you’re so corny.”

“You want a beer instead?” Hutch asked without any intention of letting her have one.

“Nah, soda’s fine. I don’t even like beer, actually.”

Hutch held out his bottle. “To old friends.” After clinking all around, the trio sipped their drinks and relaxed. Several minutes elapsed before Hutch tugged on Molly’s sleeve. “Do you want to talk about it tonight or wait until morning?”

Molly sighed. “Tonight, I guess. I probably won’t sleep if I don’t.”

Looking at the dark circles under her eyes, Hutch was instantly committed to doing whatever necessary to ensure that Molly got a good night’s sleep. “Okay. Just start whenever you’re ready.”

After worrying the label of her bottle for a few minutes, Molly finally turned to Hutch. “I’m afraid you’ll hate me when I tell you.”

Hutch grabbed Molly’s chin before she could look down again. “There is nothing you can tell me that will make me hate you. I might be disappointed; I might even get mad, but I will never hate you.”

“Promise?” Molly’s eyes scrutinized every inch of his face for a trace of deceit.

“I promise.” Hutch’s hands gently cupped her face. “I love you. We both do.” Hutch turned Molly’s face toward Starsky, who smiled and nodded enthusiastically, making Molly laugh. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Okay. Give me a minute.”

“We’ve got all night.” Hutch leaned back on the sofa and sipped his beer, feeling every bit like a father waiting for his child to confess to wrecking the family car.

“Okay, here goes.” Molly took a deep breath. “Kate–Mrs. Williams threw me out and I didn’t know where else to go and you said I could always stay with you if I needed to and so here I am.” Molly sat back and exhaled.

“What?” Starsky and Hutch looked at each other and then back at Molly, who had resumed picking at her soda label.

Hutch pinched Molly’s arm. “Sorry, kiddo. The Reader’s Digest version isn’t going to do it. Try again.”

Molly looked up long enough to roll her eyes and then looked back down at the bottle. “She came home and caught me doing something in the living room and she freaked out.”

Hutch’s eyebrows disappeared somewhere into his hairline as he decided a deep breath of his own was in order. “Okay. That’s better.” He looked to Starsky for help, but his partner was busy picking at the label on his bottle.

With what he hoped was a comforting hand on Molly’s shoulder, Hutch tried to put Molly at ease. “Molly, I don’t mean to embarrass you by asking you personal questions, but if we’re going to help, we need to know a little more. Okay?”

Molly nodded, and Hutch cringed at how red her face had become.

“All right, you said she ‘caught’ you in the living room. What were–” Hutch felt the warmth in his own cheeks as he scratched his forehead. “Um, was there–uh, w-were you alone or w-with someone?”

“Oh, gross! I can’t believe you asked me that!” Molly stormed over to the window.

Hutch looked at Starsky, who was now busy picking up tiny bits of beer label from the floor. Certain that the paper had been dropped on the floor intentionally to provide Starsky with an out, Hutch vowed the payback would be merciless.

Clearing his throat, Hutch turned to the statue at the window. “Look, Molly, I’m sorry, but if you won’t just come out and tell me, then I’m kind of playing a guessing game here. Now, I think we’ve established that you were with someone. Does he have a name?”

Molly turned to glare at him before turning back to the window.

“First name’ll do,” Starsky offered, but there was still no response, other than a glare from Hutch.

Hutch walked over to Molly, neatly managing to step on Starsky’s foot in passing. Placing his hands on her shoulders and gently rubbing them, he tried again. “This boy–”

“Lydia. Her name is Lydia.” Molly’s shoulders trembled.

It was the last thing he had expected. Forgetting his hands were on Molly’s shoulders, Hutch froze. Molly misinterpreted his actions and bolted to the back of the house. The slamming of the bathroom door echoed down the hallway as Hutch continued to stand at the window. Just as he turned to go after Molly, a pair of strong hands found his shoulders. Starsky rested his chin on Hutch’s shoulder. “Give her a few minutes. She’s embarrassed.”

“Don’t you have some paper to pick up or something?” Hutch shot back, but there was no venom in it. The hands felt too good.

“You were doing okay except for that one question.” Starsky’s hands squeezed a little harder for a second, just to show he was teasing.

“Shut up. She said the woman caught her doing something; how was I supposed to know?”

“Hutch, I’m not even sure girls that age do that, but if they do, I don’t think they do it in the living room.”

“Well, I didn’t know. Didn’t you ever get caught?”

“Sure I did, but never in the living room. I don’t think I ever even thought of doing it in the living room. Did it in just about every other room though.” Starsky grinned into Hutch’s shoulder. “So I’m taking it you did it in the living room?”

“Why are we talking about this?” Hutch turned and brushed past his partner on his way to the kitchen, deciding that, if ever another beer was called for, it was at that exact moment.

Following Hutch into the kitchen, Starsky urged him to relax. “She’ll be out in a few minutes and we can pick up where we left off.”

“What’s this ‘we’ crap?” Hutch growled.

“Oh, come off it. I had your back.” Starsky started to say more, but the telltale squeak of the bathroom door opening silenced him. He quickly sat down at the table.

Molly appeared in the kitchen door looking every bit the pre-teen waif of years gone by. Not really knowing how to correct his unintentional wrong, Hutch simply stood and held his arms open. Molly quickly walked into the center of his hug.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That was pretty big to just dump on you like that.”

Hutch pulled back and cupped her chin in his hand. “It’s okay, Molly. Got that? It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it and I didn’t handle it well. I’m the one who’s sorry.” Hutch stood quietly for a few seconds more, giving Molly the time she needed to feel comfortable.

“I’ve just got one more question and then I’ll leave you alone. Okay?” Hutch waited for Molly to look up at him. “Are you sure about this, Molly? It’s not an easy life, you know. People don’t…you’ll have to…it’s always going to be tough.” He searched Molly’s eyes, looking for any hint of doubt.

“I know, but I don’t think it’s something I could change even if I wanted to,” Molly said, returning to her normal, matter-of-fact demeanor.

Hutch hugged her to him tightly. “No, you can’t change who you are and there’s no reason you should. Now, you ready to tell us the rest of it? Why you’re here instead of at home?”

Molly nodded and left Hutch’s arms. She prowled around the kitchen before finally taking a seat opposite Starsky, fixing him with a frank stare. “You got anything to say about it?”

Starsky wisely shook his head and cocked a thumb at Hutch. “What he said.”

“Okay. I was with Lydia and no one was home and we were making out on the couch. Mrs. Williams came home from work early and we didn’t hear her….”

“When you say ‘making out’….” Starsky let the question trail away.

Molly’s face flamed again. “Just kissing and stuff. Nothing…um, big. Anyway, she made Lydia leave and then she just went crazy, crying and yelling. You’d have thought I’d committed a murder or something. She was so hysterical that I couldn’t even understand most of what she was saying, except the part about me being a ‘lesbo’–I got that loud and clear.’”

“And then she told you to leave?” Hutch asked, sitting down next to Starsky.

“No, that came the next day after she talked to Mr. Williams. I’ll spare you the ugly details, but basically she said I could either go to a shrink or I could just…go.” Molly traced an imaginary pattern on the tabletop with her fingernail. “I may be a freak, but I’m not crazy, so I went.”

“You are not a freak.” If they had rehearsed it, the partners couldn’t have spoken in more perfect unison. It surprised them almost as much as it did Molly.

After a nudge from Starsky, Hutch took the lead. “Molly, do not ever again let me hear you refer to yourself as a freak. You’re not crazy either; you were right about that. You’re a beautiful young woman who’s smart and funny–you are not a freak.” Belatedly, Hutch realized he was jabbing his finger in the air and almost shouting. He hadn’t meant to get so worked up. He turned his ire on Starsky. “Didn’t I tell you that woman was an idiot?”

Starsky pulled Hutch’s hand down to the table and placed his on top of it. He gave Hutch his trust-me look and then, clearing his throat, turned to Molly. “See, Molly, when you call yourself a freak–” He cocked his head toward Hutch– “You’re calling him a freak. You’re calling me one, too, not to mention a few million other people who are doing some very good things in this world. Now, I’m not making promises for Blondie here, or those other people, but I am no freak. Well, maybe for other things, but I’m not a freak because of who I love.”

Several seconds ticked off the clock before Molly sat back in her chair with a gasp. “You mean you guys?” She wagged a finger between them and her jaw dropped further when they both nodded.

“I’ll kiss him if you need proof,” Starsky joked, but he couldn’t laugh with Hutch’s elbow in his ribcage.

“You mean I could have just told you I was…jeez, you wouldn’t believe how much I worried…I almost didn’t come here.” Molly was on the verge of tears again but pulled herself together. She looked from Starsky to Hutch and back again. “I was so afraid you’d be disappointed in me.”

“We’d have been disappointed if you didn’t come here,” Starsky answered. “Now we’ve got to figure out a game plan, but first there’s something I gotta know….” Starsky leaned forward and motioned Molly to do the same. Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, he asked, “She didn’t really say ‘lesbo’, did she?”

Hutch snorted, and Molly quickly followed. Any tension lingering in the air was gone as they all laughed until their sides hurt. With the ease of old friends, they continued to talk far into the night. Based on Molly’s descriptions, her life with the Williams family hadn’t been too bad prior to the living room fiasco. They had been kind, if not loving, and provided her with the stability she so sorely needed after her father’s death. If his own poor reaction was any indicator, Hutch suspected that Mrs. Williams might soon regret her actions after she recovered from the initial shock of discovering Molly and Lydia. Only the passage of time would reveal the truth. For her sake, he hoped Molly’s experience turned out better than his own.

Hutch noticed the hour had grown late and suggested they call it a night. He and Molly went to make up the bed in the spare room. “I’m glad you came here,” he said, passing Molly her corner of the sheet.

Molly smiled and nodded. “I am, too. I almost didn’t, you know.”

“What made you change your mind?” Hutch fussed with the corners of the sheet.

“I kept thinking about that Christmas I spent with you guys and Kiko and Mrs. Ramos. Do you remember that?”

“How could I forget? I’ve thought about you every Christmas since then. Well, more than that, but especially at Christmas.”

Molly blushed. “Yeah, me, too. I’d never had a real Christmas before that one. You know what I remember most? You had this card propped on the coffee table. I knocked it over when I was moving that pathetic television you had. You do have a better one now, I hope.”

Hutch laughed and hooked a thumb toward the other bedroom where Starsky was getting ready for bed. “Living with him? You know it.”

Laughing, Molly continued, “What was I–oh, yeah, the card. You had this Christmas card and the front of it said ‘Christmas Joy.’ I remember reading it and wondering what in the hell was so joyful about Christmas. I knew it was supposed to be this great holiday. I’d see those Christmas movies on television with everyone dressed up and exchanging gifts and having these big family dinners, but that wasn’t any kind of Christmas I’d ever known. My Christmas was usually macaroni and cheese out of that basket the Salvation Army gave us every year, and because I was a girl, they’d throw in a doll or stuffed animal.” Molly looked up at Hutch. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful….”

Hutch shook his head. “Don’t apologize. It must have been tough to see one thing and experience another.”

It was Molly’s turn to shake her head. “That’s just it. I thought the other kind of Christmas–the one with the joy in it–was just made up for television. No one I knew ever did anything like that and I sure didn’t know anything different. But after that Christmas with you guys at Kiko’s house, I knew that Christmas could be a happy time.” Molly sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you remember how much fun we had that day, Hutch? ”

“Yeah, I remember.” Hutch smiled, remembering how Molly’s initial shyness when presented with gifts to unwrap had been quickly vanquished as she soon followed Kiko’s lead and began tearing into them with unbridled glee. He also recalled Molly’s wide-eyes gaping at a table packed to the edges with mouth-watering Christmas dishes. He had known that she had never experienced the excesses of Christmas, but it hadn’t occurred to him then that she had never had any sort of Christmas celebration. He wondered if it was the only happy Christmas she’d ever had. “So, how were the holidays with your new family?”

Molly sighed. “They meant well, you know? They just didn’t have much money and gifts had to be practical. The first year was the hardest. Kate tried to decorate a little and have a nice dinner, but it wasn’t very much. To be honest, I wasn’t trying very hard at first. Then I remembered that day at Kiko’s and how we didn’t even really have that many presents and it didn’t matter. I figured out that the ‘joy’ in it had come from just being together. So I tried harder after that and it was okay.”

Hutch sat down and pulled Molly into another hug. “I’m so sorry. You deserved so much better than what you got.”

“Don’t say that, Hutch.” Molly pushed him away. “I had it so much better than a lot of kids. So the Christmases weren’t fun– so what? The Williams took pretty good care of me, and I’d rather have had that than what I had before. With my dad, I didn’t get either. So don’t feel bad for me; I’m not complaining.”

“I just wish you could have had more than one joyous Christmas.” Hutch pressed his lips against the top of Molly’s head.

“I turn my back for a few lousy minutes and you hop into bed with the first beautiful woman who comes along.” Hutch just shook his head, while Molly laughed at the sight of Starsky standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips. “I can see now, Miss Molly, I’ll have to find you someone else to wile away your time with.” He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded at his chest.

Molly sobered. “Don’t worry about that. I have someone.”

“Lydia?” Hutch asked softly. When Molly nodded, he prompted, “You haven’t told us much about her.”

“I think you’d like her.” Molly smiled shyly at Hutch. “She likes a lot of the same things you do–art and music and stuff.”

Hutch smiled and tugged Molly’s sleeve. “If she likes you, that’s enough for me.”

Molly’s face turned bright pink. “Anyway, she’s a freshman at the college in my town, but she’s from Chicago. That’s where she is now.”

“Christmas break?” Starsky asked.

“Yeah, her mom invited me there for Christmas, but…well, you know how it is.”

“Her mother knows about everything?” Hutch asked, continuing when Molly nodded, “She’s okay with it?”

“You wouldn’t believe how great she is, Hutch. I can’t wait to meet her some day. She seems just like what a mom should be, you know?” The wistful look in Molly’s eyes was made more pronounced by the shadows that still surrounded them.

“Yeah, I think I do.” He brushed his hand against Molly’s cheek. “Why don’t you tell us more tomorrow? Right now, I think you could use some sleep.”

“Good idea,” Starsky said and added a jaw-cracking yawn for emphasis. “I’m beat.”

Hutch shook his head, but couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Yeah, you’ve done so much today. Eating, napping and gift-wrapping all in one day can really wear a guy out.” He pulled back the covers for Molly and then tucked the blanket around her. “Sleep tight. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“‘Night, guys.” Molly rolled onto her side. Hutch suspected she was asleep before he pulled the door closed.

~~~

Morning sunlight peeked through a gap in the curtains; Hutch gave up on sleep and rolled onto his back. He’d been deep in thought ever since getting into bed and had hoped to talk to Starsky about Molly’s problems. But Starsky had rolled onto his side, away from Hutch, which was Starsky-ese for ‘leave me alone.’ So Hutch spent part of the night worrying about Molly, but the better part of it trying to figure out how to tell Starsky that their Christmas vacation was off. Molly needed them, and while he knew that Starsky would understand, Hutch didn’t want to see the disappointment that reflected his own. They’d had so much fun planning the trip that the saving part hadn’t seemed too bad. Hutch had even tried to start teaching Starsky to ski by showing him proper stances and grips, but his efforts hadn’t gotten very far since Starsky generally dissolved into hysterics whenever Hutch advised him on the correct way to hold his pole.

Smiling, Hutch turned onto his side, facing his partner. He was surprised to find a wide-awake Starsky staring at him.

“Nice of you to join me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were awake?” Hutch brushed away an errant lash from Starsky’s eyelid.

“‘Cause I was thinking and I didn’t want you yammering at me,” Starsky teased and then grabbed Hutch’s shoulder to keep him from rolling back over. “Get back over here. I’m through thinking now.”

“For the day? Or just for now?”

“For now, dummy. If you’re gonna be pissy, then I’m not gonna tell you what I was thinking about.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. What were you thinking about so hard that you couldn’t talk to me?”

Starsky grinned. “That’s more like it. Well, while you’ve been flipping and flopping trying to figure out how to tell me that our Christmas vacation is off–” Starsky put a finger to Hutch’s lips. “Shush, I just know, okay? Leave it alone. Now, where was I? Oh! I’ve been figuring out a way to still have our Christmas vacation and make sure that Molly has a great Christmas, too.”

“Pray tell, O curly one, how you managed that? We can’t take her with us. Hell, we can barely afford to take ourselves.”

Starsky rose up on one elbow. “We’re not taking her with us. This is our vacation. We’re going to give Molly her own vacation–to Chicago. How’s that?” He leaned over and planted a kiss on Hutch’s lips. “Am I a genius or what?”

“You’re an ‘or what’ so far, buddy. While you were doing all that thinking, did an idea of how to pay for a plane ticket to Chicago occur to you?”

“Funny you should ask….” To Hutch’s surprise, Starsky got out of bed and knelt beside it.

“I was always taught that He hears our prayers wherever we are, Starsk. You could’ve stayed in bed.”

“Wise guy. I’m getting something.” Starsky pulled a box from beneath the bed. “This is the Christmas present I wasn’t supposed to buy you. It’s a new ski jacket. I’m taking it back tomorrow while you’re returning those skis you bought me and hid in that shack you call a potting shed.”

“Starsk–”

“Shush. I just know.” Starsky climbed back onto the bed. “Now, that’ll just about get her to Chicago. This next part is a little bit trickier, so I need you to hang in there with me, okay?”

Hutch pulled a dust bunny from Starsky’s hair and nodded as Starsky leaned over him. “Part of what we budgeted was for lift fees, right? Well, I want to give my lift fees and part of yours to Molly. If we do, she’ll have enough for a ticket and a little spending money, too.”

Knowing that part of why Starsky was leaning over him was to gauge his reaction, Hutch tried to look noncommittal. He needed time to think. It wasn’t that it was horrible idea, but he couldn’t understand why Starsky would so willingly give up all of his ski time. He had talked of almost nothing else for the past few months. As his mind traversed the memories of their planning sessions, Hutch realized that in almost every memory of recent talks, he had been the one doing the talking. Starsky had just been listening.

“Don’t wanna ski, do you?”

“Hutch, I swear, at first it sounded like fun, but now…well, the idea of hurtling off the side of a mountain at sixty miles an hour scares the shit out of me.”

“You watched ‘Wide World of Sports’ again, didn’t you? I told you that guy fell off the ski jump, dummy. Falling on the bunny slopes doesn’t quite qualify as ‘agony of defeat.'” Hutch laughed. “Oh, and for the record, you would’ve hurtled down the mountain, not off of it.”

Hutch watched the smile of satisfaction wash across Starsky’s face as he realized that he’d won the round. “Down, off–doesn’t matter. I’d rather just walk on the thing if it’s all the same to you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t want to go skiing? We could’ve gone somewhere else.”

“Oh, I want to go to the mountains and I want you to go skiing. I’m just a lot more interested in the fresh mountain air and the snowball fights than I am the skiing. Plus, there’re lots of things we can do together instead of skiing. Things that don’t cost anything.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Hutch reached up to trace the line of Starsky’s jaw, now bristly and coarse.

Starsky’s eyes twinkled and he grabbed Hutch’s hand and wove their fingers together. “Well, really there’s only one thing, but we can do it lots of different ways, so it all works out.”

Hutch laughed, amazed at how easily this man could make him fall in love with him all over again. “Okay, you win. Let’s go tell Molly.”

“Not so fast.” Starsky pushed Hutch back down onto the bed and shifted around to straddle his thighs. “Let the child sleep. We have other things to do just now.”

“We have things to do at six-thirty in the morning?”

“Yes, since our circumstances have changed and we’ll be spending more time on other things, we have some catching up to do. We need to practice new pole grips.” Starsky’s lewd eyebrow wiggling and subsequent knuckle cracking sent Hutch into another fit of laughter.

Watching Starsky’s antics, Hutch felt a warm rush of emotion wash over him. He loved being in love, and he had just decided that he loved Christmas. Like Molly said, it was the time spent together that brought the joy into the season, and nothing could dim Hutch’s anticipation of a lifetime of Christmases with this crazy man he loved so much.

Suddenly, Starsky’s face hovered above him, eyes dark and sparkling. “What is this world coming to? My man’s happy at Christmas time,” he said, making Hutch’s smile grow even wider. “What are you thinking about with that sweet, sexy smile on your face?”

“Christmas joy, Starsk.” Hutch cupped his hand around the back of Starsky’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss, or as close as he could get to a kiss given the sappy grin that refused to leave his face.

Molly learned about her Christmas present sometime around noon.

The End