By the Light of the Waning Moon

117

Hutch rushes to Duluth to be with his ailing mother, with Starsky right by his side. Despite the sorrow, they discover love, life, and a chance for new beginnings.

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Chapter One

Eleven-year-old Hutch sat on the end of the dock, captivated by the stars as they reflected onto the lake’s rippling water below. He looked up, searching for the moon, finding the dim, crescent-shaped patch of light in the distance. It was as if the moon was hiding that night, submitting to the multitude of stars that took center stage, a one-night-only show where they twinkled with pride and assumed the lead role in brightening the dark sky. 

Hutch sat idly, lost in thought, his feet swinging above the water. The rhythmic waves and the gentle chorus of crickets in the trees surrounded him, intensifying his sense of wonder. The two weeks at the cabin by the small lake near Duluth were Hutch’s favorite part of summer—filled with fishing, swimming, canoeing, hiking, and his new favorite pastime – stargazing.

A gentle touch on his shoulder jolted him from his daydream.

“Your father and sister are starting the campfire for the marshmallows. Don’t you want to get over there before they eat them all?”

Hutch’s mother sat beside him, removed her sandals, and joined her son in dangling her feet above the lapping waves. She didn’t appear to be in any hurry, so Hutch remained where he was and smiled.

“I’m surprised Dad and Kathy want to have a campfire tonight,” Hutch noted. “They hardly came outside all day. Kathy has been sulking in her room because she had to leave her friends for two whole weeks, and when she finally went for a swim she complained the water was too cold. As for Dad, he was on the phone all day with the office.”

“Don’t be so hard on Kathy,” his mother said gently. “Your sister is fourteen years old, at an age where friends are seemingly more important than family. You’ll see one day soon. As for your father, he can’t take a vacation when he owns the law firm, but at least he’s here. We’re all here.”

Hutch shrugged. “I can’t imagine not wanting to be here. Two weeks each summer isn’t enough.” He felt his mother wrap her arm around his shoulder as they gazed at the sky. “Mom, why is the moon so small tonight? I can hardly see it.”

Mary Hutchinson tilted her head and looked at the sky along with her son.

“That’s a good question; I’m not an expert, but I’ll try to answer as best as I can. You see, just like the sun, the moon appears and disappears in the sky, rising and setting at different times. Depending on which moon phase it’s in, you’ll see a different amount of it at night. When it’s a full moon, you see a big bright circle. During other phases, you see only part of it, even just a tiny sliver.”

Hutch nodded, not taking his eyes off the crescent-shaped moon. “What phase is it tonight, do you know?”

“Let’s see,” his mother pondered. “It looks like it’s in the waning crescent phase.”  

“The what?” Hutch inquired.

His mother chuckled, leaning closer to Hutch’s to explain.

“Imagine a full moon is like a giant cookie. The waning phase occurs after the full moon. That means it starts to get smaller each night – like someone is taking a nibble out of the cookie. So, during the waning phase, the moon looks like it’s shrinking, until it’s a crescent shape like it is now.”

Hutch nodded, frowning as he thought about that. “So what happens before the full moon?”

“Well, before a full moon, picture the cookie getting bigger and bigger. That’s the waxing phase, our cookie is appearing to grow in shape and size as it orbits around the Earth.”

Hutch put his hand on his chin, considering the information. “So it’s in the waning phase now?”

“Yes. In a day or two, it will disappear from the sky entirely – that’s called the new moon – the beginning of a new cycle.”

“It’s sort of sad that the moon gets smaller in the sky, isn’t it? Wouldn’t it be nice if the moon could be full every single night?”

Mary nodded and rubbed her chin. “I don’t know. Philosophers say the waning phase is a time for reflection, and to embrace change and new beginnings. I think that makes it pretty special.  If it were full every night we might get tired of it.”

Hutch felt like the whole world was starting to become clear to him, and he wanted to know so much more. “What about the stars?”

“What about them?” his mother asked.

“What are they exactly? Where do they come from?”

“Oh, you ask all the easy questions,” she laughed, teasing her curious son. “Let’s see. Each star is a sphere of scorching and glowing super-hot gas; energy powerhouses producing light. Think of them like celestial campfires up there, formed from giant clouds of gas and dust. Some have been around for millions and millions of years. They’re always in the sky, even during the day, but the sun’s brilliance overshadows them. That’s the scientific explanation, but I like to think of stars a little differently.”

Hutch rested against his mother’s shoulder. “How so?”

“I like to think of the stars as wishes, holding your dreams and hopes. On a clear night like tonight, with a waning moon and the sky filled with countless stars, I scan the horizon and look for the one star that captivates me—the one that is mine alone. Perhaps you’d choose a different star, and that’s perfectly fine. The key is to find the star that shines just for you, regardless of anyone else’s perspective.”

Hutch let his eyes roam the night sky, searching for the most beautiful star he could find.

“What if I pick one tonight and change my mind tomorrow? Can I change my star every night?”

“At first, you might change your mind every time you look up, just like you may change your hopes and dreams. Remember, it’s not always about choosing the brightest star, because they tend to burn out fastest. You’ll learn to search for the star that isn’t obvious to anyone else, but that shines for you just the same.”

Hutch looked up and tried to select a star out of the sky, finding he was overwhelmed by all of their beauty.  One twinkled at him and he smiled and made a wish. 

The boy relaxed against his mother’s shoulder and watched the crescent moon’s reflection as it waltzed across the water. Hutch took a mental photograph—a perfect memory forever imprinted in his mind.

***********

Starsky puttered about Hutch’s kitchen, the clatter of dishes echoing his restless thoughts. The plates sparkled, freshly washed, dried, and neatly stacked. He scrubbed the counter for the third time, trying not to listen to Hutch’s phone conversation drifting from the bedroom.

Hutch spoke to his mother regularly, especially since his father’s sudden passing a year ago. Starsky himself had been just out of the hospital, Gunther’s bullets nearly taking Starsky’s life – a fresh memory that he knew haunted Hutch’s dreams. Then, the nightmare intensified when Hutch learned of his father’s death.

“He’s gone, Starsk,” Hutch’s voice cracked, the weight of loss apparent. “My father’s gone.”

Starsky’s heart clenched. They’d faced danger together and survived countless scrapes, but this—this was different. The finality of it hung heavy in the air.

“I have to make travel arrangements,” Hutch continued, his voice hollow. “I told Kathy I’d be there tomorrow.”

“I’m coming with you to the funeral,” Starsky said, hoping the words could somehow ease the ache. 

“No, you’re not.” Hutch’s tone turned resolute. “You just got out of the hospital. The doctor won’t clear you for travel, and you know it. Neither will I, for that matter.”

Starsky’s jaw tightened. 

“But I’m your partner and best friend,” Starsky insisted. “It’s your father, Hutch. I should be there. You need me there.”

“Starsk,” Hutch’s voice softened, “you’re alive and recuperating. I need that more than I need you there.”

Starsky’s gaze dropped. His best friend’s father had passed away, and Starsky couldn’t physically be there for him. Gunther hadn’t killed him, but arguing with Hutch about his recovery might just do the job.

“Please,” Hutch’s plea hung in the air. “We can call your mother. She said she’d come anytime you need. She’d be over the moon to stay with you. You wouldn’t want to disappoint your mother, would you?”

“No, of course not.” Starsky sighed, internally relenting to the unyielding facts. 

“Good,” Hutch said, his voice heavy with emotion. 

Starsky nodded, knowing that at this moment, Hutch needed him to heal, to fight for his recovery and their partnership beyond all else. Sometimes, being there for someone meant staying right where you were, even if it tore you apart inside.

***********

In the months that followed, Starsky saw Hutch become the family’s anchor as the weight of funeral arrangements, the paperwork, and the entire aftermath of Ronald Hutchinson’s death rested squarely on Hutch’s shoulders.

Starsky sensed Hutch’s burden—a weight beyond mere duty. Dread clung to Hutch, stemming not only from the near-loss of Starsky, but also his father’s passing, and missed opportunities that slipped away forever, a haunting reminder of unhealed wounds between father and son.

Hutch kept the dread hidden, veiled from everyone except Starsky who could see beneath the surface. It took time, but slowly, gradually, it shifted. Hutch seemed to turn away from the relentless dread, and through the cracks, relief and joy seeped in.

Starsky noticed Hutch breathing easier, sleeping better, and smiling more. As Starsky began to recover, so did Hutch, their healing intertwined, nurturing each other’s well-being. Hutch even shaved his mustache, and Starsky thought that when Hutch smiled a certain way, Hutch looked like a hopeful young boy.

For Starsky, it was a fresh start. No sudden epiphanies, just gradual unfolding. Moments of reflection, slowing down, grasping life’s preciousness. He didn’t need much else—maybe marriage and kids someday, if it felt right. If Hutch found a woman to make him happy, Starsky would be overjoyed for him. Hutch’s happiness, and having his partner by his side, were all Starsky wanted.

Starsky hung the dish towel and smoothed it out, anxiously waiting for Hutch to get off the phone. He heard a shuffle behind him and turned.

“Hey, how is your mother? She doesn’t usually call on a Tuesday. Everything okay?”

Hutch stood in the bedroom doorway, his pale face cast in shadow. Starsky took three strides and was beside him, taking his arms.

“Hutch, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s back, Starsk. My mother’s cancer is back.”

The inner corners of Hutch’s eyebrows angled upward, causing a furrowed brow, his lips quivering as he held back tears. Starsky grabbed him as he began to drop, becoming limp in Starsky’s arms.

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” Starsky assured into Hutch’s ear. “She came through it last time; she will again.”

He drew back, gazing at Hutch’s face. The once-present smile had vanished, swallowed by the abyss of dread that had haunted him for months, now back again.

Hutch’s fingers clutched the back of Starsky’s shirt, pulling with desperation and anguish. Starsky allowed the tight grip as Hutch nestled his chin on Starsky’s shoulder, his quiet sobs gradually yielding to hushed breaths.

“It’s going to be okay,” Starsky repeated as they stood in the doorway of Hutch’s bedroom. “I’m here, I’m right here.”

Starsky made a silent promise. This time, he would not let Hutch face the dread alone.

Chapter Two

Hutch had wrapped the small box in pink paper, his mother’s favorite color. She always told him that all sunsets were beautiful, but when the sky blushed with a lingering pink afterglow, she said those colors of the sunset were the most extraordinary.   

“What’s this?” she asked with a bright smile when Hutch handed her the gift. “You’re the one moving to California to join the police academy. I should be giving you a gift, not the other way around. I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

“I wish Dad felt the same way. Vanessa sure didn’t,” Hutch remarked.

“Vanessa made her choice about what kind of future she wants, and so did you. She can go off and chase her pot of fool’s gold.  What she fails to realize is that her husband -my son -has the biggest heart of gold and that’s worth more than any amount of money in the world.”

Hutch lowered his head, feeling the pain of his divorce all over again. “I thought she was the one, Mom. I thought she was my shining star.”

“I know. It’s easy to be fooled by the shiniest star in the sky. It happens to a lot of people. Trust me, someday, you’ll find the one just for you.”

Hutch shook his head.

“Mom, you’re just saying that because…”

“Because I’m your mother. Of course. As your mother, I have the privilege of knowing you better than almost anyone else. That doesn’t make what I say meaningless or wrong; it makes it fact-based and therefore true.”

Hutch felt his cheeks turn as pink as the box he held in his hands. “So, why doesn’t my father have the same thoughts? Doesn’t he have the same facts?”

“Your father is choosing to see the facts differently, that’s all. He gets caught up in labels, like white collar vs blue collar, as though one is better than the other.”

“Mom, you didn’t exactly jump for joy when I told you I was joining the police force, in California no less.”

His mother’s eyes met his. “Of course, I didn’t. My first reaction was to ask why so far away. My second reaction was fear if I’m honest. It’s a dangerous job and Bay City is full of crime, not like here in Duluth.”

Hutch touched his mother’s hand. “It’s a little over a five-hour flight, it’s not that far. Try to understand, I need to go somewhere and start over. If I stay here, I’m always going to be Dad’s son, Vanessa’s ex-husband, or that boy who was voted most likely to succeed. The thing is, my definition of success is a lot different than a lot of people around here. It’s ok, Mom.. I’ll be okay. I want to make a difference. I hope you can understand that.”

She raised her eyes. “Of course, I understand. I may worry about you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stand in your way.”

“I appreciate that, but Dad’s a different story,” Hutch said. “He does nothing but try to stand in my way.”

“He worries too, in his way,” his mother said, her eyes pleading. “Try to understand that.”

Hutch patted his mother’s hand. “Let’s not talk about Dad anymore right now. There’s nothing I can do to change his mind. Now, are you going to open the gift anytime soon or do I have to call one of Kathy’s kids over here to do it?”

His mother smiled. “I don’t need any help, thank you.” She tore the paper and opened the box.

“Oh my goodness,” she exclaimed, revealing two necklaces. The first was silver, adorned with three stars ascending along the side and a crescent moon suspended in the center. The second necklace, crafted in gold, featured a single star and a crescent moon delicately hanging from the chain. “They’re both beautiful, but why two of them?”

“The silver one is for you, the gold one for me,” Hutch answered. His fingers deftly fastened the delicate silver chain around his mother’s neck. Then he lifted the golden chain and put it on himself. “I wanted us both to have one,” he confessed. “Not the fanciest, mind you—just from a flea market, but I thought they were perfect. When you wear yours, remember I’m out there, seeking my star. And when I wear mine, I’ll remember to look at the moon.”

Her eyes glistened, and she said softly. “The moon will always be up there for you, son.” 

Hutch’s grip tightened on her hand. “Thanks, Mom. I know.”

***********

Starsky settled into the window seat, Hutch next to him on the aisle. The flight attendant approached, her eyes fluttering as she spoke. “Officer Hutchinson, are you certain I can’t get you anything? Perhaps a glass of wine or a beer?”

Hutch lifted the glass from the tray table and peered inside. “I still have plenty of water; that’s all I need for now. Thank you, though.”

“Of course,” she answered demurely. Then she turned her attention to Starsky. “And what about you, Officer Starsky?”

Starsky shook his head. “I’m good. This orange juice is hitting the spot. Thanks, sweetheart.”

The flight attendant nodded, glancing at Hutch once more. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask for Janet.”

Starsky attempted to lighten the mood. “Pretty girl, huh, Hutch? I think she likes you.”

Hutch shrugged. “Yeah, I guess she was pretty. I didn’t notice. Are you sure you don’t want something stronger than orange juice?”

Starsky tilted his glass and downed it. “No, I’m good,” he replied. He then noticed Hutch fiddling with the chain around his neck.

“The chain is still there,” Starsky said. “In case you were worried it fell off.”

Hutch looked sheepish. “Oh, yeah, I know,” he touched the moon and star necklace. “Sorry for the panic earlier. I didn’t want to leave without it, and I forgot where I put it. Thanks for finding it, buddy.”

Starsky caught the nervousness in Hutch’s voice when he mentioned the necklace. “I figured it would be in the last place you’d expect—like inside the pocket of your bathrobe,” Starsky offered with a chuckle. “You’ve always seemed to like that necklace, but I didn’t realize it was so valuable to you. Didn’t you buy it at a flea market a long time ago?”

Hutch’s grip tightened on the chain, longing in his eyes. “It’s not about the cost,” he murmured, fingering the chain around his neck. “It holds a lot of meaning for me.” His gaze shifted to Starsky, his expression vulnerable. “It reminds me to look up at the night sky. My mother always told me to keep searching for my shining star.”

“Your shining star?” Starsky asked, perplexed.

“It’s hard to explain,” Hutch said. He swirled his glass of water, the melting ice a reflection of his inner turmoil.

“Try me,” Starsky encouraged. “It’s a five-hour flight to Duluth, we’ve got time.”

Hutch pressed the gold pendants against his skin, then lowered his hand. “She said stars were like wishes, each one a beacon. She said I should scan the sky and find the star that shines for me, that is mine alone.” He signed, his gaze on his glass. “I used to think wishes came true, stupid right?”

Starsky’s eyes narrowed. “Not stupid,” he countered. “Hopeful. It’s not about wishes; it’s about working for what you want. Sometimes, when your heart’s in the right place, dreams find you along the way.”

Hutch nodded, wetting his lips until the glass was empty. He turned, his gaze anchored on Starsky, a connection palpable and unspoken.

“Starsky,” Hutch said, changing the subject. “I want to tell you…I’m glad you’re coming. I know I tried to talk you out of it, but I’m happy you didn’t listen to me.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Starsky replied. “Dobey understood and didn’t kick up a fuss at all. I only wish I could have attended your father’s funeral last year.”

Hutch did a double-take. “You’re here, alive and feeling better than ever. If I had to choose between that and you coming to my father’s funeral, it would be no contest.”

“That’s in the past,” Starsky assured him. “I’ll do whatever you need so you can spend as much time with your mother as necessary. Consider me the errand boy, driver, or cook—whatever helps.”

Hutch chuckled. “I don’t know if I can handle beef burritos every night.”

“Hey, I can cook grilled cheese sandwiches, too,” Starsky retorted. “So, did you get a hold of Kathy?”

“I called Kathy’s house, but the babysitter reminded me that she and Greg were on an Australian cruise. So, I got the number for her travel agent who got word to them. They will be at sea for the next two days, but as soon as they port in Melbourne they’ll disembark and they will fly home from there. The earliest Kathy will get to Duluth is four days from now.”

“Kathy didn’t know anything about this either?”

“No, my mother said she told no one. She didn’t want to accept it herself. I think she finally accepted the truth, and that’s why she called me.”

Hutch’s expression turned serious. “I spoke to her oncologist, Doctor O’Malley before we left. It’s not good, Starsk. Last time, they caught it early. Not this time. She was lucky eight years ago,” Hutch continued. “This time, the cancer is stage four, and doctors say it’s in her lymph nodes and has metastasized to her liver.”

Starsky pulled back and brushed the hair from Hutch’s forehead. “It’s the Eighties. Treatment has come a long way. Don’t give up hope.”

Hutch’s eyes welled up, his face pale as a ghost.

“The doctor has been visiting the house once a week. There are two full-time nurses at the house. The doctor says it’s a matter of weeks now, maybe days…” Hutch’s voice trailed off.

“I’m sorry, babe.” Starsky murmured, resting his palm on top of Hutch’s. “It’s going to be okay.” Starsky didn’t know what else to say; sometimes touch was more powerful than words. He hoped that this time, it would be enough to alleviate the agony etched across Hutch’s worried face.

Chapter Three

Hutch sat on the elegant white sofa in the living room, typically reserved for guests. The large coffee table separated him from his father. Ronald Hutchinson paced across the room, his voice escalating as he spoke.

“I can’t believe you’re going to California to join the police force. Where in the name of God did you get an idea like that? You have a college degree, for heaven’s sake. You could still apply to law school or pursue a master’s degree. Or, one of my best clients is the CEO of the largest insurance company in town, and I know for a fact that he’d hire you for a management position. It would be a great start for you. Maybe you could stop your wife from divorcing you!”

The air in the room was charged, the tension so tangible and thick it could have been sliced with a knife. Hutch felt the weight of invisible ropes tugging at his neck, constricting his every breath. He sprang from the sofa, his fingers snapping with nervous energy. “Listen, Dad,” he began, “nothing I say—or want to say—will prevent Vanessa and me from divorcing. She’s made it painfully clear that she won’t be married to a cop.”

Ronald Hutchinson stopped in front of the bar cart and grabbed the sleek decanter of bourbon,  pouring a shot into a crystal glass and downing it. “My point stands,” he retorted. “Becoming a cop will lead you nowhere. It’s a blue-collar job with no prospects.”

Hutch squared his shoulders. “Not nowhere. Somewhere. To a life with purpose,” he asserted. “At least, I hope so. I leave for Bay City next week. You can either be happy for me or be quiet about it.”

“It’s a man’s job to provide for his family, to work hard and do whatever it takes.” 

“It’s almost the seventies, Dad, the fifties are long gone. Times have changed. Believe me, I have every intention of working hard, but not for the same reasons you did.”

His father poured a second drink, his voice edged with frustration. “A life of criminals, guns, and life-threatening danger?” he scoffed. “All for little pay? You’re making a mistake, Ken. A colossal mistake. One day you’ll see and when you finally come to your senses, don’t expect your mother and me to bail you out.”

“I’ve already talked to Mother. She supports my decision. Why can’t you?” Hutch asked.

His father interjected, his tone unyielding. “Your mother may support you, but that doesn’t mean she’s not worried. Think about the strain you’ll put your mother through.”

“What about the strain you put all of us through, Dad? Spending more time at the office than you do with your own family. There’s a cost to that, and if you don’t see it, then I’m sorry for you.”

The room fell silent, tension thick in the air. His father drained his glass, his resolve unwavering. “If you come back looking for money…”

Hutch raised his hand, halting his father’s words. “I don’t want your money,” he declared firmly. “Even if I drive a battered old car, buy furniture off the street, or shop for clothes in a second-hand store, I’ll never come crawling back.”

With a surge of fury, Hutch stormed out of the room, his temper seething. The weight of their disagreement hung heavy, a chasm widening between father and son.

***********

The cab drove up the quiet residential street, its tires muffled against the pavement. The neighborhood screamed of affluence, with each house towering above the next. Starsky, craning his neck to take it all in, couldn’t help but compare it to the small apartment he grew up in in New York, a fraction of the size.

“Wow,” he muttered. “Nice neighborhood.”

Hutch, sitting beside him, nodded. “It’s the white one on the corner,” he instructed the driver. Then, turning to Starsky, he added, “I can’t believe you’ve never been here before.”

Starsky’s eyes widened as the cab eased into the wide, sweeping driveway. The lush green lawn flanked by tall trees framed the house like a living portrait. He couldn’t resist a playful jab. “I can’t believe you never invited me,” he quipped.

Hutch’s response was measured. “It never seemed like a good idea at the time,” Hutch answered.  He settled the fare with the driver and stepped out of the car, holding Starsky back before they approached the house. “I’m sorry I never invited you here before.  I guess I didn’t want to put you in my father’s line of fire about being a cop. I couldn’t even handle it myself, back then. Now, I just wish I had another chance….”

“I know, it’s okay,” Starsky stopped Hutch from the spiral he knew was coming. “The few times I met your father, I could sense the strain. Your mother and you were always trying to hide it, but it was there.”

They entered the house without knocking, their footsteps echoed by the cool marble flooring that stretched out before them. The spacious foyer was bathed in natural light, courtesy of a large skylight overhead. To the right was a sophisticated living room decorated with simplicity and refinement. Off-white furniture adorned the room, and inspiring art graced the walls. At the center stood an uncluttered mahogany coffee table. To the left, a grand staircase ascended to the upper floor.

A middle-aged woman dressed in a white uniform descended the stairs, her presence warm and professional. “You must be Ken,” she said, extending her hand to Hutch. “Mrs. Hutchinson’s son. I’ve seen your pictures around the house. I’m Magdalena, the day nurse. My colleague, Marian, takes over in the evenings.”

Hutch introduced Starsky. “This is my partner, David Starsky. Magdalena, how is my mother doing? I’d like to know what to expect before we see her.”

The nurse motioned for them to follow her into the living room. As they settled onto the sofa, she spoke. “Your mother is receiving the best care we have to offer. We’ll discuss everything you need to know.”

The nurse’s words hung heavy in the air, a delicate balance between compassion and clinical certainty. “She is sleeping right now,” the nurse began, her voice soothing. “We’ve given her medication to ease her pain, to help her relax.” Her eyes held a depth of understanding as if she had witnessed countless such moments. “She’s been eating better lately—perhaps knowing you were coming brought a glimmer of comfort.”

“Shouldn’t she be in a hospital?” Hutch asked, his voice raw with worry. “Wouldn’t she be more comfortable there?”

The nurse’s gaze softened. “Your mother,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “refuses to leave this house. And so, we provide her with the best care here—for now.” Her conviction was unwavering. “But if things take a turn – if her pain intensifies, we won’t hesitate. Hospice care at the hospital becomes our next step. Doctor O’Malley insists on it, and so do I.”

“When can I see her?” Hutch’s voice trembled.

“She’ll likely sleep for another hour or two,” the nurse answered. “Why don’t you both take your bags upstairs and settle in? I’ll come for you when she wakes.”

They lifted their suitcases, Starsky trailing behind as Hutch ascended the staircase.

Starsky’s gaze remained fixed on each step, climbing slowly in Hutch’s wake. It was as if Hutch clung to a fragile thread, teetering on the edge, and Starsky stood ready—always ready—to catch him if he faltered.

Chapter Four

Hutch picked up the ringing phone and heard his father’s voice crackling through the line. He could picture him sitting in his favorite armchair, the leather one with the high back.

“Hello, Ken,” the voice rasped, heavy with years of unresolved emotion.

“Dad,” Hutch replied. “I’ve been meaning to call. I wanted to tell you—I’m joining the homicide division at Metro. Partnering with Dave Starsky. Remember him from the academy?”

The silence stretched until his father’s voice returned, tinged with skepticism. “Ah yes, the dark-haired young man that you appeared inseparable from at your graduation. If I recall correctly, he didn’t go to college, did he?”

Hutch’s defense of his friend surged. “Why does that matter? Starsky is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, college degree or not.  He’s also one of the best and most dedicated cops I’ve ever known.”

His father’s retort was sharp. “Can he stop a bullet for you? You should’ve taken that insurance job…” The line crackled, as much from tension as from the miles that separated them. 

Hutch’s anger erupted, fueled by fierce loyalty and love.

“Starsky may not be able to stop bullets, but he’d die trying.” Hutch’s voice trembled as he tried to cool his rising temper. “Why did you call, Dad? Just to lecture me on my career choice again?”

The pause hung heavy, and Hutch sensed his father trying to find his next words.

“No, that’s not why I called. It’s about your mother.”

Dread unexpectedly clenched Hutch’s chest. “What’s wrong?” 

“She had a mastectomy,” his father’s voice softened. “They caught the cancer early. They think her chances are good.”

“What?” Hutch felt the words in his throat. “Can I talk to her?”

“She’s sleeping,” his father replied. “Released from the hospital yesterday.”

“Why didn’t you call sooner?” Hutch’s frustration spilled over.

“Your mother didn’t want you to worry until she knew more,” he explained. “She refused to speak much about it even to me; I think she didn’t want to face how bad it might be. But there is good news; they think they got it all,” he continued. “It’s a five-year prognosis with these things, but they think she’ll make it that long, and most likely beyond.”

“Does Kathy know?” Hutch asked, thinking of his sister.

“I told her this morning,” his father replied.

Guilt washed over Hutch, palpable and raw. “I wish I knew. I would have been there for her,” he confessed. “I would have come.”

“She’s as headstrong as you, sometimes. Your mother didn’t want you to disrupt your life until we knew all the information. Now that we know, it would lift her spirits if she saw you. You haven’t been home since…”

“Since my divorce,” Hutch finished the sentence, the weight of it settling on his shoulders like an old burden. “Okay. I’ll come for a few days. I’ll let my captain and Starsky know tomorrow.” He hesitated, then added, “Dad, let’s not start an argument about my career choice in front of Mom, alright? Can we call a truce?”

His father’s hesitation hung in the air. “A truce requires both sides to agree, Ken,” he finally replied.

Hutch took a deep breath. “I can do it if you can, Dad. For Mother’s sake.”

“But it doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind,” his father added.

“Naturally,” Hutch said, his voice weighted with emotion. “Goodbye, Dad. Tell Mom I’m coming home soon.” 

With a decisive click, Hutch ended the call. As he did, he pictured the lines etching deeper into the older man’s face—a stubborn reminder of the conflict between them, knowing there could be no possible winner. 

***********

Magdalena guided Hutch and Starsky to the bedroom, gently opening the door. Inside, Hutch’s mother lay on the king-sized bed, cocooned in a soft pink bedspread surrounded by plump pillows. Her voice, fragile from just waking up, cracked as she spoke.

“Ken, you’re here.” Her eyes found Hutch, and a hint of relief washed over her face. “And David is with you, I see. That’s wonderful.”

Starsky positioned himself by the window, giving Hutch space to approach the bed. “I don’t want to be in the way, Mrs. Hutchinson,” he offered. “I just wanted to come in and say hello, but I can leave you and Hutch to talk now.”

“No, you stay put David,” Mary instructed, her gaze shifting to her son. “Ken come here, give me a hug.”

Hutch closed the distance in two strides, wrapping his arms around his mother’s neck. “Mom, how are you? You look beautiful.”

“You never were a good liar, Ken,” she teased. Her hand reached up to touch Hutch’s neck. “You’re wearing the necklace.”

Hutch’s expression was gentle. “Of course. I haven’t forgotten about the moon, not once.”

Mary’s eyes shifted to Starsky. “David, would you please do me a favor? Look in the drawer of the vanity in my bathroom. There’s a moon and star necklace on a silver chain. Would you bring it to me?”

Starsky nodded, feeling a mix of honor and awkwardness. He stepped into the ensuite bathroom and opened the drawer beneath the large mirror. There it was—the delicate silver necklace.

Starsky handed it to Hutch, who fastened it around his mother’s neck. “There you go, Mom. It looks beautiful on you.”

“Thank you.” Her gaze shifted past Hutch’s shoulder, landing on Starsky. “I’m so glad you came along, David. Ken talks about you all the time, but I haven’t had the chance to see you much in person.”

“I’m sorry about that. I’m here to help any way I can, Mrs. Hutchinson.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she replied, her eyes kind. “It wasn’t your fault, or Ken’s.” She turned to her son. “He is your rock, isn’t he?”

Hutch’s gaze flickered to Starsky, then back to his mother. “Yes, more than I can describe.”

“That’s good,” Mary said, a smile gracing her lips. “I’m so happy for you.” She drew them closer, as though she had a secret to tell the two men. “Listen, both of you. I want to tell you something.”

Hutch bent over the bed, Starsky right behind him. “What is it, Mom?” Hutch asked.

“I want you to know that I approve.”

Hutch’s eyebrows shot up. “You what?” he asked, his voice a blend of disbelief and intrigue.

His mother’s gaze remained steady, unwavering. “Approve,” she repeated, her eyes conveying an understanding that went beyond the ordinary. “I approve of what I can see right in front of me.” Her words held a quiet certainty. “One day, hopefully soon, you’ll understand what I’m talking about—if both of you decide to open your eyes.”

Hutch scratched his temple, the moment hanging there, suspended in uncertainty. He stole a glance at Starsky, who mirrored his look of bewilderment.

Yet, Starsky sensed something more—a realization simmering deep within, clawing its way toward revelation. It was like a truth that fought relentlessly to reach the surface of his mind, yearning to breach the darkness and find the light of day.

Chapter Five

Hutch sank onto the couch, utterly drained. The apartment was mercifully quiet except for the soft rhythm of Starsky’s breathing from the bedroom. Hutch didn’t mind the nights he spent on the couch; as long as Starsky was out of the hospital, recovering, and alive, it was all worth it. His thoughts flitted to the dirty plate on the table, the sandwich he’d devoured now that his hunger was slowly returning, but exhaustion held him in its grip. He closed his eyes, only to be jolted awake by the shrill ring of the telephone.

“Hello?”

“Ken, it’s Kathy.”

Hutch’s eyes widened at the gravity in his sister’s voice.

“Hey, Kath. What’s going on? Is Greg okay? And the kids?”

“We’re fine,” she said, her voice trembling. “Ken, it’s Dad.”

Hutch sat up, his voice shaky. “Tell me.”

“He had a heart attack.”

“What? How serious? Is he okay?”

“No, Ken. He didn’t make it. He’s gone. It happened so suddenly. He was at the office, collapsed at his desk, and they couldn’t revive him. The ambulance came, but it was too late.”

His thoughts turned to his mother. “And Mom? How is she?”

“She’s devastated. She needs you, Ken. Will you come home? I know your partner has been in the hospital. It’s terrible what happened to him—gunned down in the police parking lot. I meant to call when it happened; Dad told me.”

“Dad told you?”

“Yes. He said you called, and mentioned it was touch and go for your partner for a while. Dad followed every news story, proud of his son who apprehended the vile James Gunther.”

Hutch’s eyes welled up. “I had no idea. I thought he couldn’t care less.”

“Ken, he rarely showed it. But this time, it hit him hard. He worried it could have been you. The last time I spoke to him, he confessed that he didn’t know how he’d cope if something happened to you. He planned to visit you soon.”

“What? I had no idea, Kath. My God, I wish I had known.”

“I understand. Dad wasn’t great at expressing his feelings. When can you get here?”

“I’ll book an evening flight and be there tomorrow.” Hutch hung up the phone, waves of emotion crashing over him.

Behind him, he heard shuffling footsteps. He turned to find Starsky.

“Hutch, you okay? I heard the phone. What’s wrong?”

“He’s gone, Starsk,” Hutch’s voice cracked, the weight of loss apparent. “My father’s gone.”

***********

Starsky settled into the chair next to Mary Hutchinson’s bed, the room bathed in the soft glow of evening. Magdalena had departed, and Marion, the night nurse, would arrive soon.

“We’re finally alone,” Mary quipped, her thin eyebrows wiggling mischievously.

Starsky took her hand. “I’ve been waiting for this moment, sweetheart.”

Her laughter, though gentle, filled the room.

“Hutch had to run to the store for a few groceries,” Starsky explained. “He’ll be back soon. Said you were craving macaroni and cheese.”

“I know. I asked him to go,” Mary confessed. “I wanted a chance to speak with you alone.”

Starsky arched an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh no, the mother wants a chat. I must be in trouble,” he teased, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Not at all,” Mary assured him. “I want to thank you for being there for my son. All these years, you’ve been his best friend.  When Ken’s father died, he was carrying so much guilt. You were dealing with your recovery,  and yet you were there for Ken, supporting him. You may think I didn’t know that, but I did. Please help Ken remember it wasn’t his fault. His father was from a different generation, and he thought providing for his family was the most important thing.”

“Hutch regretted never having the chance to resolve things with his father.”

“I know, and sometimes, if we wait too long, the opportunity passes us by. I’m not going to let that happen, I intend to say everything that’s on my mind as long as I’m still drawing breath.”

Starsky reached out and took her hand.

“I do what I can for Hutch, and always will. We’re partners,” Starsky replied, a hint of shyness in his voice. “Job or no job, that won’t change.”

“You love him.”

Starsky hadn’t anticipated the squeeze of her hand. “Of course, I’d do anything for your son.”

Mary’s unwavering gaze held Starsky captive. “I mean something deeper,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “You’re in love with him. I could see it the moment you both walked in. There was an electric charge between you, and the way you looked at him and he looked at you, even in an instant, I could see it. I’m not pressuring you, but I might not get another chance to share what I know I saw.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand what you mean, Mrs. Hutchinson,” Starsky said, hesitating.

“I mean exactly what it sounds like I mean, David. Trust me, Ken is in a similar situation—believing he’s not allowed to feel what he truly feels. But I see it. Not just because I’m his mother, but because I’ve opened my eyes. When you both walked in, it was evident. As clear as day, and I won’t waste any time by keeping that to myself.”

“I do love him, Mrs. Hutchinson, but I like women. So does your son.”

“Sure, that’s fine,” Mary answered. “But this isn’t merely about gender preference. It’s about a specific person who makes your heart race when he enters the room. Someone whose presence you feel even when you can’t see him. Whose energy intertwines with yours. He’s your shining star.”

Starsky gazed at Mary’s silver moon and star necklace, a realization pouring over him. He blinked, then glanced down before meeting her gaze again. “My shining star…oh my God.”

She smiled. “It’s okay. I don’t think God minds. But I can put in a good word for you when I get there.”

Her smile lit up the room, and Starsky tightened his grip on her hand. “My shining star,” he repeated. “I know it, I’ve known for a long time. Why didn’t I see it before?”

“Because – sometimes the stars are hard to see in the daylight,” her voice held a quiet wisdom. “Remember,” she continued, her gaze unwavering, “love can be like the moon—always in the sky, but hidden until the right moment. And when it finally reveals its fullness, it explodes, illuminating the darkness in ways you never imagined, filling a void you didn’t even know existed.”

“You’re a wise woman, Mrs. Hutchinson.”

She patted his hand, her touch both comforting and insistent. “Don’t let fear hold you back, David. Life is too short for that. And for heaven’s sake, call me Mary. Remember, you’re part of the family, if you’ll have us, that is.”

Starsky’s smile widened, a warmth blooming in his chest. He nodded, his voice steady. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

Chapter Six

Hutch sat at the typewriter, his fingers tapping the keys as he finished the latest report. Across from him, Starsky stretched his legs out onto the desk, devouring the last of his sandwich. Starsky’s hair had been recently trimmed, but he mentioned plans to let it grow out soon. He wiped the crumbs off of his bulky white Mexican-style sweater just as the squadroom door opened.

Starsky’s low whistle caught Hutch’s attention. “Wow,” Starsky said under his breath, leaning closer to Hutch. “Would you look at her? She might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Hutch paused, the clicking keys silenced. He turned toward the door, and there she was—a familiar face that stirred Hutch’s memories and emotions. The woman walked over, stopping in front of Hutch’s desk.

“Hello, Ken,” she said, her voice carrying a mix of warmth and uncertainty.

“Vanessa?” Hutch’s surprise was evident. Both he and Starsky stood up. “Vanessa, this is my partner, Dave Starsky. Starsky, meet my ex-wife, Vanessa.”

Starsky’s expression soured, but he remained polite, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Vanessa. Hutch has told me so much about you.”

Vanessa chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I have no doubt. How long have you and Ken been partners?”

“Two years now,” Starsky replied. “But we’ve known each other since the academy.”

Vanessa’s attention shifted back to Hutch. “You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here. Can I talk to you privately, Ken?”

Hutch glanced at Starsky, who gave a silent nod. “Sure,” Hutch agreed. “Let’s step into the corridor.”

Outside the squad room, Hutch guided Vanessa to a quiet area down the hall. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting shadows on the linoleum floor.

“What is it, Vanessa?” Hutch asked, his voice guarded. “What brings you to Bay City?”

She hesitated, her gaze searching his face. “I had meetings with some clients in the city.  I’m trying to break into the international jewelry business. There will be lots of travel to Europe I expect.”

“You could have phoned or written,” Hutch said, a hint of bitterness creeping in. “It’s not like you’re required to keep me informed anymore.”

Vanessa reached into her purse and pulled out a ring. “ I know, but I wanted to give you this. I never gave you my wedding ring back,” she said softly. “I wanted to do it now. I think I was holding onto it, hoping that maybe…”

Hutch sighed, his gaze fixed on the glinting band. “I don’t want the ring back, Vanessa,” he retorted, his voice weary. “It’s yours. Sell it if you want, give it away. I don’t care.”

Her eyes searched his face. She looked around, assessing the room—the drab police quarters, the lingering scent of crime. “You know,” she said, her tone edged with judgment, “you could come with me. You could be so much more than this, Ken. We could work together, be a team.”

Hutch’s jaw tightened. “Vanessa, our marriage ended years ago,” he said, the ache of old wounds resurfacing. “We blew our chance. There’s no going back.” He paused, his gaze steady. “But I wish you well. I hope you find what you’re looking for, whatever that is.”

Vanessa returned the ring to her purse, her fingers lingering. “Goodbye, Ken,” she whispered. “Maybe we’ll meet again one day.”

And with those words, she walked away, leaving Hutch standing there, a feeling of unexpected relief washing over him. He didn’t know that it would be four years, six months, and twelve days before he would see Vanessa again, for the last time. What he did know, with overwhelming certainty, was that his once-shining star – never really meant for him – had truly burned out forever. 

***********

Starsky and Hutch stepped onto the deck, the backyard stretching out—a canvas framing the view of Lake Superior in the distance. Starsky rested against the balcony, eyes fixed on the sky. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving a celestial tapestry of stars.

“I’m glad your sister finally made it back from Australia,” Starsky said. “She was so happy to see you.”

Hutch exhaled, standing beside him, his gaze tracing the distant water.

“To see us both,” Hutch said. “Greg is with the kids now. Kathy has been in Mother’s room for quite a while. I hope she’s coping with everything okay.”

“Kathy seems like a strong lady,” Starsky reassured. “She looked relieved to get here before…” He stopped himself from saying the unthinkable.

“It’s okay, Starsk,” Hutch said softly. “I know she’s going to die. You don’t have to pretend it won’t happen.”

Hutch glanced at Starsky, his face tight but his voice gentle. “I believe Mom knows it too. She’s been saying some unexpected things, wouldn’t you say?” Hutch tested the waters.

Starsky shrugged. To him, Hutch’s mother’s words were crystal clear, revealing what Starsky already knew but was scared to voice.

“You know her better than I do,” Starsky said. “I think she has been speaking from her heart.”

They fell silent, both looking up. “It’s a new moon tonight. It’s not visible in the sky,” Hutch observed.

“The sky is still beautiful, worth looking at. It’s funny,” Starsky mused. “So many stars out tonight.”

“Because the stars are easier to see when the moon is hidden,” Hutch explained.

“It’s sort of sad, isn’t it? Not seeing the moon at all,” Starsky said.

“Yes,” Hutch agreed. “I don’t like it when we can’t see the moon.” He paused, regaining his composure. “But as my mother always told me, it’s the perfect time for stargazing.”

Starsky blinked, moving closer to Hutch. He ran a hand through Hutch’s hair, resting his palm on Hutch’s cheek. “The perfect time to find your shining star?” Starsky asked.

Hutch remained still, pressing his cheek into Starsky’s palm, his lips brushing against his skin. “You see it too?” he whispered, his voice a fragile thread. “It’s been right in front of me all this time, hasn’t it?”

Starsky couldn’t speak, his heart in his throat with desire. He drew closer until their lips met—a delicate touch that melted his insides. He pressed harder, taking the lead he knew Hutch hesitated to claim. Fear dissipated, replaced by the electric intensity of their kiss.

Hutch pulled him tighter, his arms wrapped around Starsky’s body. Their mouths collided in a frenzy of passion, tongues exploring, breaths mingling. Starsky’s need for oxygen forced him to break away, but he didn’t retreat. Instead, he locked eyes with Hutch, lost in the blue depths.

“I love you, Hutch. So much. I always have. I guess I just had trouble seeing it clearly until now.”

Hutch’s eyes emitted a love that struck Starsky to the core. “I love you too,” Hutch said. “I wouldn’t last a day without you, and I don’t ever want to try.”

And there, in that charged moment, Starsky saw an explosion of lights—not the kind that twinkled in the sky, but the kind that ignited within him. He touched Hutch’s chest, feeling his beating heart, and in that connection, he knew their stars had aligned at last.

Chapter Seven

Young Hutch basked in the warmth of his mother’s arms encircling his shoulders. The cool breeze from the water played against his skin as he squeezed her hand, cherishing the moment.

“How do you know so much about the moon, Mom?” he asked.

Her eyes softened. “I love reading books about the moon and the solar system.” She leaned in, sharing a secret. “Back in college, I wanted to major in astronomy. But my parents—your grandparents—insisted I pursue something more practical.” She paused, her gaze distant. “Don’t get me wrong—I adored being a teacher before your sister was born.”

Hutch turned to face her, their eyes locking. “You could go back to school now if you wanted. I’m eleven—I can look after myself.”

His mother’s hand ruffled his hair, her smile radiant. “I dare say you’re right. You’ve been mature beyond your years forever. But I’m content, looking after the house and you and your sister, and your father. It’s the way things are.”

Hutch pondered her words, his lips pursed in thought. “If you want to do something, you should be allowed to pursue it,” he mused. “Not give it up because someone says that it’s the way things are. That doesn’t seem right to me.”

She patted his shoulder. “One day, you’ll understand better, son.” Her voice held a hint of wisdom. “The moon—it doesn’t have a choice but to follow its pattern relentlessly, month after month.” She gestured toward the sky. “Even when it wanes to a crescent or disappears entirely during the new moon, it remains steadfast.” A chuckle escaped her. “The sun may hog the spotlight, but the moon persists, quietly.”

Hutch’s eyes widened as he gazed up at the night sky. “You know,” he whispered, “the moon is like someone who’s always there; changing every night, but still staying the same. I’m never going to forget the moon, Mother.”

She enveloped him in a half-hug, planting a kiss atop his head. “Some days, you’ll get busy and find that you don’t think of the moon, but that’s okay. It will always be there for you, whenever you need it, steady and sure. Now, let’s get back to the campfire. We don’t want your father and sister to eat all the marshmallows do we?”

***********

I know we should go back inside,” Hutch said, “but I can’t tear myself away from you.”

Starsky’s heart still raced, but he knew Hutch was right. “I know,” Starsky replied, “but we have the rest of our lives. Let’s go in and see how your sister is doing.”

They climbed the grand staircase and found Magdalena and Marian waiting at the end of the hall.

“You’re both on duty tonight?” Hutch asked, surprised to see both nurses standing by.

The two nurses exchanged glances and nodded at Hutch. “We think we should both stay, in case your mother needs us,” they explained.

Just then, Kathy emerged from the bedroom, her eyes red from tears. She looked at Hutch and fell into his arms.

“Oh, Ken. She’s so sick,” Kathy said through her sobs. “I’m glad I got back in time to see her. We talked about so many things.”

Hutch held his sister tightly. “It’s okay. Is she awake?”

Kathy nodded, and Hutch reached for the doorknob, opening the door. Hutch entered the room, Kathy and Starsky behind him while the nurses waited outside. His mother lay there, eyes closed, face pale. Hutch hurried to her bedside.

“Mom?” he said, trembling.

Mary Hutchinson’s eyes slowly opened, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Kathy rushed to the other side of the bed, taking her hand as Starsky stood back.

“Come closer, David,” Hutch’s mother said. “How often do I have to remind you that you’re family?”

Starsky stood behind Hutch, nodding. “I’m here, Mrs…uh, Mary. I’m here.”

“Good,” she said. “Because I want you to know that I talked to your mother this morning.”

Starsky’s eyes widened. “You did?”

“Yes, we discussed two things, mother to mother,” Mary said. “First, I thanked her for raising such a good son, a good man, and a friend to my Ken. Second, I told her that I approved. Your mother didn’t understand what I meant, so I told her to talk to you one day – soon – and that you would explain.”

Starsky smiled, glancing at Hutch. “Your mother isn’t about to let up on us, is she?”

Hutch took Starsky’s hand, squeezing it. “Doesn’t sound like it. And neither am I.”

“That’s settled then,” Mary smiled.” I couldn’t be happier.” She turned to her daughter. “Kathy, you’re my only daughter and I love you and am so proud of everything you have become. Give your husband and kids the biggest kiss for me.”

Her gaze shifted to Hutch, her frail form lying in the dimly lit room. “Ken,” she beckoned to him, her voice barely audible, “What does the moon look like tonight?”

His eyes welled with tears, and he turned to glance out the window. The night sky held no trace of the moon; it was a blank canvas, devoid of its usual glow. “It’s a new moon, Mother,” he replied softly, “We can’t see it tonight.”

His mother’s smile was bittersweet, her voice a mere breath. “That’s okay,” she said, her voice a low whisper. “It’s a time for new beginnings.”

And with no grand farewell, she closed her eyes for the last time.

The room seemed to hold its breath; Hutch stood there, showing his heavy heart, the weight of goodbye settling upon him. His mother’s frail hand lay still, and he pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Thank you, Mom,” he said quietly. “For everything.”

Starsky stood back, a silent witness to this loving moment, his eyes becoming blurred. He knew Hutch’s pain—the ache of losing someone who shaped your world, who held your secrets and dreams.

“She loved you,” Starsky assured him. “And she knew – about us – before we even knew ourselves.”

Hutch nodded, unable to speak.

As Mary Hutchinson slipped away, Hutch held onto her hand, while Starsky’s hand rested on Hutch’s back. Starsky felt the tremor in Hutch’s shoulders as they shook; the fragile thread of life fading into nothingness.

“Goodbye, Mom,” Hutch whispered.

In that quiet room, it was as though the moon hid its face, and the stars outside seemed to dim, mourning one of their own.

Chapter Eight

Starsky lay there, his mouth covered by the oxygen mask, chest rising and falling in sync with the monitor—a rhythmic reminder that he clung to life.

Hutch bent forward in the waiting room chair, fingers tented, breaths mirroring Starsky’s. With each exhale, a silent plea escaped. “Stay with me,” his thoughts echoed. “You should have gotten down. Damn it, Starsk, why didn’t you get down?”

His mind churned, replaying the scene—the bullets, the chaos. Regret clawed at him. “I should have jumped across the Torino’s roof, blocked those damn bullets. Instead, I hit the ground like a coward.”

Hutch’s eyes squeezed shut, dread settling like an anchor in his chest. It clung there, a relentless tenant—an ache that defied the passage of time, a shadow too deep for any light to penetrate. He would have no choice but to wait – uncertain – not knowing if the stars would ever emerge again and cast a silver glow upon the fractured pieces of his heart.

***********

Hutch smiled as he spoke into the phone. “I promise Kathy, Starsky and I will be there for Thanksgiving. We wouldn’t miss it.”

“What about David’s mother? Will she be okay with it?” Kathy asked.

Hutch relayed the question to Starsky, who lay beside him on the bed. Starsky’s fingers traced patterns on Hutch’s chest. “She’s okay with it,” Starsky assured him. “Remember, we’re going to New York for Christmas.”

Hutch leaned in, planting a small kiss on the top of Starsky’s nose. “Of course, I remember.”

Hutch picked up the phone again. “Kathy, it’s all set,” he began. “Yes, his mother is excited to see Starsky and me together at Christmas. She said, and I quote, ‘I also approve.’”

Kathy’s chuckle reached him through the line, a familiar warmth. Then her tone shifted and softened. “Do me a favor,” she said gently. “Tell Dave something for me. Tell him that I’m sorry we weren’t around more last year when he was shot.” Her voice trembled, revealing layers of regret. “Tell him that I’m so happy you have him in your life.”

Hutch closed his eyes, bracing for the usual surge of dread—the memory of how close he’d come to losing the man beside him. But this time, something else stirred within him. For the first time, it wasn’t just heaviness; there was a glimmer of lightness, a sense of calm. And hope.

“Don’t worry, Kathy,” Hutch replied.  “He knows.” He pulled Starsky even closer as if to emphasize the point. “I make sure to tell him every day.”

“Good,” Kathy murmured. “Ken, I can’t believe it’s been two months since she’s been gone.” Her words hung in the air, heavy with loss. “First Dad, then Mom. We’re all we have left, little brother. Let’s not drift apart again, promise?”

Hutch’s gaze drifted to the window, where the crescent moon hung like a delicate ornament. He tightened his arms around Starsky, drawing strength from their shared presence. “I promise,” Hutch whispered back. “It’s a new beginning—for all of us.”

***********

Starsky remained nestled in the crook of Hutch’s shoulder as Hutch said goodbye to his sister and hung up the phone.

“Everything okay? How’s Kathy? And the kids?”

“All good. Kathy was even talking about renting the cabin on the lake next summer—the one we used to visit as kids. It’s plenty big enough for all of us. What do you think?”

“As long as there aren’t any bears, count me in.”

“No bears, at least none that I know of,” Hutch said with a smile. “But it has the best view of the stars you’ve ever seen.”

Starsky pushed the covers down, running his hands down Hutch’s body. He caressed him, savoring the feel of his firm muscular chest, the scent of his hair, and the smoothness of his skin.

He straddled Hutch, his need rising like a spring tide during a full moon, his hands traveling up and down the sides of Hutch’s body, finding their way down to his hips and legs.  His left hand came to rest on the tuft of hair that snuggled over Hutch’s throbbing erection.

“If I do this right, you are about to see stars right here, very soon,” Starsky said, his voice husky. “Would you like that, Hutch?”

“Hutch let out a gasp, tilting his head back and pressing against the headboard, his face distorted with need. “Oh yes, please, Starsk, yes.”

Their lovemaking was still in its early stages, as they explored new heights, looking for ways to complete each other, to heighten their cravings that seemed to have no limits, intensifying a boundless love.

As he took Hutch in his mouth, Starsky felt a tug on his hair and heard the quiet moans that emerged from Hutch’s lips as Hutch massaged his head, his touch making Starsky feel like a priceless treasure.

Hutch orgasmed quickly, intensely, emptying into Starsky’s eager mouth. Starsky moved up and took Hutch’s hand, guiding it down below to Starsky’s raging erection. Hutch pumped him till he came, his liquids running on Hutch’s stomach as he moaned in ecstasy.

Sometimes, like on a night like this, their lovemaking was fierce and uncontrollable. Other nights, the passion lasted for hours, as they slowly explored each other’s bodies, learning and enjoying one another, knowing they had the rest of their lives. Sometimes they would prolong their desire through the night, until the moon, a silent companion, dipped below the horizon, surrendering to the rising sun that illuminated the sky with pink hues at daybreak.

Starsky reached for a towel, cleaning himself and Hutch before he shifted up to the pillows and into Hutch’s warm embrace. He became limp in Hutch’s arms, idly tracing the contours of Hutch’s neck, the moon and star necklace adorning it, as the gold chain caught the moonlight’s glow.

Hutch gently clasped Starsky’s hand, intertwining their fingers around the delicate chain, not letting either of them go. Together, they surrendered to sleep, cradled in each other’s arms, the moon and stars above casting a soothing spell upon their dreams, and a promise of new beginnings with the morning light.