Happy Thanksgiving

50

Starsky is looking after Hutch as he recovers from The Plague. Edith and Rosie come to visit.

 

For Robbin.

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Starsky staggered up the stairs, juggling bags in each hand and under one arm. He came to a relieved stop outside Hutch’s door and set one bag down while he rummaged for the key to open the door. Before he could slide it into the lock, there was the sound of a key being turned and the door opened.

“How’d you know I was here?” Starsky asked.

“I could hear you from a mile away!” Hutch said, with as much strength as he could muster. Before Starsky could suggest it, he walked over to the couch and gratefully lay back down. “What on earth are you carrying anyway?”

“Everything we need to have a great Thanksgiving dinner,” Starsky said.

Hutch raised an eyebrow.

“Just ’cause you gotta take it easy, don’t mean we can’t have a feast,” Starsky explained. He carried the bags through to the kitchen, adding as he passed by, “This year we’ve got an extra reason to be thankful.”

Hutch smiled but also sighed.

“Not sure I’ll be able to eat much.”

“You’ll manage something and I can eat what you don’t.”

Hutch rolled his eyes, implying that went without saying. Starsky grinned and continued into the kitchen. Out of sight, the smile faded a little. Hutch’s lack of appetite was worrying him as was his friend’s general lethargy. Starsky hoped he was doing the right things to get his partner well. Sometimes he felt he was well out of his depth. This wasn’t the flu Hutch was recovering from. It was a Plague, for crying out loud.

He heard Hutch shift position, trying to get comfortable, and hurried to his side.

“Need another pillow?”

“It won’t help.”

“Want a drink before I start prepping everything?”

“Orange juice?” Hutch asked hopefully.

“Sure, bought some fresh OJ this morning.” Starsky was glad he’d thought of it, especially when he saw the bright look on Hutch’s face. “I’ll get it now.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

When Starsky came back with the glass of orange juice, Hutch smiled his thanks at him. Starsky went back to unload the goodies he had bought.

Hutch enjoyed the juice but took only a few sips before setting the glass down. Sighing, he lay back down and closed his eyes. Why was everything still so exhausting?

When Starsky came to check on him, he was asleep. Starsky looked at him fondly, his eyes filling with gratitude, as he muttered, “Happy Thanksgiving, partner.”

He noted the half full glass of juice. Half a drink: better than nothing. Hopefully, Hutch would eat something later. Out of the treats he was planning to prepare, there must be something that would tempt his partner. Quietly, Starsky returned to the kitchen to get on with the preparation and cooking.

*****

Rosie stood in the doorway, watching as her mother added the finishing touches to her pumpkin pie.

“Mumma?”

“Yes, Rosie?”

“Can I go see Uncle Ken? I’ve made him a picture.” She held up the drawing so her mother could see it.

Edith looked at the clock and considered the question.

“Well, I don’t see why we can’t pay a quick visit. Uncle Ken needs plenty of rest so we can’t stay long but I’m sure he’d be pleased to see us. Shall we take him and Uncle Dave one of your cookies?”

Rosie smiled and nodded. She’d been baking with her mother that morning and even if she gave two cookies away, there would be plenty for her to share with her family later.

“Grab your coat then,” Edith said. She placed two cookies in a paper bag and then walked along to the study and put her head around the door. “Harold, Rosie and I are just going to pay a quick visit to Ken so she can give him a picture and a cookie. Can I take the car?”

“Of course. That’s a very nice idea. I know Rosie was very worried about him…Wish him Happy Thanksgiving from me.”

“Yes, dear, I will.”

Soon, she and Rosie were pulling up outside Hutch’s apartment.

“Remember, Rosie, be gentle with Uncle Ken. He’s doing well but he’s still not got very much energy.”

“I’ll be gentle,” Rosie promised.

They walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. Starsky answered.

“Edith! Rosie! This is a nice surprise. Come on in.”

Rosie peered around Starsky to see where Hutch was. When she saw him laying on the couch, she started to run towards him but then stopped abruptly and walked the rest of the way.

“Hello Rosie!” Hutch said, as he dragged himself into a sitting position.

Feeling shy suddenly, she held out her drawing to him. Hutch took it carefully and smiled.

“Did you make this for me?”

Rosie nodded.

“Aw thank you, sweetheart. Come here.”

Hutch opened his arms, but Rosie hesitated and glanced at her mother. She nodded. Carefully, Rosie clambered onto Hutch’s lap and snuggled in.

Edith came over and set the bag of cookies down on the table, saying, “Rosie’s brought you each one of her homemade cookies.” She bent and kissed Hutch in the cheek. “Harold told me to say Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Thank you,” Hutch said. “Tell him the same from me.”

“Edith, could I ask you for some tips on our Thanksgiving dinner?” Starsky asked. What he didn’t say out loud was, “And with looking after Hutch.”

Edith picked up on the unspoken question and walked with him to the kitchen.

“Of course. Happy to help.”

As they talked in low voices in the kitchen, Hutch asked Rosie how she was and then what she was looking forward to doing for Thanksgiving.

“Eating my cookies,” was the reply.

“Will you let Cal and your Dad have some?” he teased.

Rosie giggled. “If they’re good.”

Rosie snuggled closer. “I’m glad you’re getting better, Uncle Ken.”

“Me too.”

Rosie looked up at him and her face became serious. She whispered, “Daddy was very worried about you…I saw him crying last week. When he came back from visiting you. My daddy never cries but he did then.”

Hutch found a lump had risen in his throat that made it hard to say anything. He just drew Rosie back into a cuddle.

Edith appeared and said softly, “We’d better be going, Rosie.”

Rosie squeezed Hutch and then carefully crawled off his lap. She reached for the paper bag and opened it, offering a cookie to Hutch.

“Thank you.” Hutch sniffed the cookie. “Smells delicious.” He took a bite and then another.

From behind the couch, Starsky grinned at Edith and gave her a thumbs-up.

“Thanks for the cooking advice, Edith,” Starsky said. “Thanks for the cookies, Rosie. Come back soon. Bring more cookies!”

Rosie giggled. Then she took her mother’s hand and the two of them left.

Starsky walked around and sat down next to Hutch. He leaned forward and reached for his cookie. He saw Hutch was eating slowly but he was still eating. Starsky grinned at him as he bit into his own cookie. He felt like a weight had been lifted. Edith had reassured him that everything he was doing was the best he could do for Hutch. She’d also approved his plan of having lots of smaller treats that Hutch could nibble as and when he felt like it.

“Good cookie.”

“Mmm.”

“Well, I’d better get back in the kitchen. Will it bother you if I put the radio on?”

Hutch shook his head. “No, that’s okay…Sorry, you’ve got so much to do. Wish I could help.”

Starsky patted his leg. “You’ll be back to normal soon and I’m having fun cooking.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Hutch sighed and attempted to heave himself off the couch. Starsky pulled him to his feet.

“I’ll go sleep then maybe I’ll be better company for our feast,” he suggested.

“Great idea.”

Hutch went through to the bedroom and shut the door. Starsky smiled to himself and then went back to work.

*****

Hutch slept for several hours. When he woke, a delicious aroma was tickling his nose. He gradually got up the energy to get out of bed and go wash his face. As he went to the door, he heard the sounds of a football match on the television although the volume was turned down low.

He opened the door and blinked with surprise. The coffee table had been covered with his fancy tablecloth and some lighted candles. Plates of food had been spread out. It looked very festive.

Starsky appeared carrying a tray of chopped vegetables and dips.

“Perfect timing,” he said. “Sit down and I’ll get you a drink.”

Hutch sat down on the couch and looked at the different nibbles available. He could see lots of his favourite things and only some of Starsky’s. Starsky came back with a root beer for each of them and then handed Hutch a plate and a napkin.

“It looks good,” Hutch managed to say. He wanted to say more but he was too choked up. How could he thank his friend for his care, his support and his kindness?

Starsky reached an arm around his shoulders.

Hutch looked at the food and said, “Let’s eat.”

Starsky grinned. “Happy Thanksgiving, pal.”

“Happy Thanksgiving.”