Minnesota Morning

Starsky and Hutch are getting ready to spend the day on the lake – but someone’s watching.

I looked out from the bedroom window in my parents’ home, out across Lake Superior. The rising sun was turning the mist on the water golden, the sky was turning from pink to blue. It was going to be a beautiful day. I looked down at the garden, where the lawns flowed down to the water’s edge, ending in a small, weatherbeaten wooden jetty. Moored alongside was my father’s white row-boat. You’d have thought such a picturesque scene couldn’t be improved upon, but it was. Because strolling down the garden path was David Starsky. In my opinion, Starsky improves the scenery wherever he is.

It’s not just the handsome face, not just the impossibly blue eyes. Not even just the riot of black curls he calls hair, or that incredible ass. It’s the walk. How can anyone strut like that, without looking the slightest bit arrogant? How can anyone who’s seen what he’s seen, suffered what he’s suffered, exude such joie-de-vivre just by the way he moves his legs? Every time I get the chance to watch him, unobserved, like now, I try to work it out. And every time I get distracted by watching that sweet butt, and fail miserably. Oh, well. Guiltily, I made the effort to watch his face instead. You didn’t usually see that face looking so peaceful. You’d have thought that for once he was enraptured by the beauties of nature. But he wasn’t looking out towards the lake, he was looking back towards the house. He looked happy, he looked dreamy, but then suddenly his face broke into the most dazzling smile you ever saw. Beat the sunshine all hollow. I wasn’t that surprised when I saw my brother walking down the path to join him.

Ken was carrying a cool box in one hand, and balancing a well-loaded tray on the other. David immediately started talking, but I couldn’t hear a word. He was obviously whispering, trying not to disturb the sleeping household. Ken gave David the tray to hold, while he stowed the cool box in the row-boat. Ah, so that’s what they were up to, I thought. They were obviously planning to row round to the marina, where you could easily hire a boat for a day’s sailing. They’d picked a great day for it, and I sighed a little with envy. My own plans for the day involved nothing more exciting than taking the kids to visit relations, while I was in town.

David sat down cross-legged on the jetty, and started in on his breakfast. Ken sat down beside him, the pair of them eating toast and drinking coffee, and talking the whole time. They looked good together. Even I can see that Ken is no loser in the good-looking stakes himself. That blond head and that black head, such a contrast, and so confidingly close together. Like a couple of kids, I thought. It’s amazing, really, when you think what they’ve done. Every time they get their names in the papers – and that’s pretty often – they send me the clipping, and the things they do in their work, you’d never believe when you saw them like this. Their courage is awesome. I feel very proud of both of them, and very glad, too, that they get the chance to relax like this sometimes.

Because Ken loves coming home to visit now. He says he’d forgotten just how beautiful it is round here. I guess that’s natural – you grow up in a place, you take it for granted, and when you’re grown-up, often you want to get away and try someplace different. Well, you could hardly get more different than California.

I know that for years, Dad really regretted letting Ken go to UCLA. He’d been a model student in high school, but he went off the rails a bit when he got away from home. But it didn’t last long. OK, he was a bit of a hippy for a while, but he ended up being very good at the guitar. He turned his back on mainstream sports and took up weird things like darts and wrestling. And he was very good at those too. That’s the thing about Ken, whatever he does, he does it well. But to Mum and Dad, things like that were a rejection of them and their values.

And then they wanted him to enroll on a graduate course, so he could extend his student deferment and avoid the draft. But he refused to do that. Not that he liked the war in Vietnam – not a bit. But I never once heard him criticize the army, and when he’d finished college and his deferment was over, he volunteered. He wasn’t sent overseas, he spent his two years working in an army hospital, but he did his bit. It didn’t surprise me really. He’s never been one to back down from a fight, and under the bohemian tastes, there’s a part of Ken that likes order, likes structure.

When his service was over, he got married. And Mum and Dad weren’t happy about that, either. They said Vanessa had no class. Well, I suppose that was true, but it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d really loved him. And when he said he’d decided to join the Police, they were devastated. It was exactly right for him, and I knew he’d found his vocation. But boy, my dad didn’t see it like that. And neither did Vanessa. They thought he’d flipped, they thought he was letting them down, wasting his brains on a job like that. How they could see a powerful, physical creature like Ken ever taking to an office-type job, I don’t know, but they did. I didn’t know, at the time, how he stood firm against all the pressure he was getting to quit, and leave the Police Academy. I do now, though. He’d made a very good friend. His other half, his soul, his life. The one whose dark curls were even now resting on his shoulder.

I don’t know when they became lovers. None of my business… but it’s intriguing. I think myself it was just before David got shot. They were so absorbed in each other after that, as if it was already an understood thing that they belonged together. I remember when Ken came home to tell us. It was Thanksgiving, and I was here too. Ken said he’d got something important to tell us, and looked so happy and shy I knew it was something romantic. When he said he and David were in love, that they were a couple now, for me, everything fell into place. I was really happy for him, and I said so. Mum was stunned speechless, but it was surprise shock, not angry shock, and she was soon telling him that if he was happy, she was happy, and when was he going to bring David home to see us all? But Dad… Dad wasn’t angry, but he was sad. He was very upset, and went very quiet. Then he told Ken he was very sorry, sorry he’d ever let him go to that awful place, California, where people did such strange things and thought them normal.

“It’s ruined your life, Ken, and it’s all my fault,” he said.

“Dad,” Ken said, “if it’s all your fault, then thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I’m so happy, I can’t believe it. I’ve got all I ever wanted, life is good, so good. Aren’t you glad I’m happy?”

Then of course Dad said he was glad, but he wasn’t really sure Ken could really be happy. I know he still worried a lot. Then a few months later, the two of them got some leave, and Ken phoned to ask if they could come visit. Mum said yes, of course, and straight away phoned me and asked me to come too. I think she thought the more of us there were, the less embarrassing it would be.

” ‘Course we’ll come,” I said. “The whole family. But Mum, you’ve got to treat them like a couple, you know. You mustn’t hurt their feelings. It’s not their fault the law won’t let them get married.”

“You mean…”

“Yes, Mum, I do mean. You have to give them a double bedroom.”

Well, she did. I don’t suppose it was that much harder than giving me and Michael one. I mean, your kids are always your kids, aren’t they? And Ken and David were very careful not to embarrass anyone. They were touched and moved by their welcome, and everyone had a great time. Even Dad. It was fascinating, watching him come round to a new point of view. He seemed amazed that his son, who used to hate coming home, was now having such a good time here. They were laughing and joking all the time, he and David. Michael, my husband, quickly warmed to it, and as for my rampaging toddler, he was in heaven, with two new buddies to play with. Slowly Dad began to join in.

If he’d thought he was going to be subjected to embarrassing displays of affection, his worries were soon laid to rest. If he’d thought his son had turned effeminate, the sight of him and David hauling and chopping a felled tree would have put a stop to that. But I think what swayed him more than anything was David himself. You can’t not love him. He’s so warm, so friendly. Dad had met him before, of course, but this time he took the trouble to get to know him, and you could tell he liked what he saw. He actually tried to say what he felt, on their last evening, just after dinner, when maybe we’d all had a little too much to drink.

“You boys have very dangerous jobs,” he said. “Someone has to do them. I feel very proud that my son and his partner are men who are brave enough to do them. And I can imagine what a help it must be, doing a job like that, to have complete trust and confidence in the man at your side.”

Ken and David were awestruck. I imagine they’d been a little apprehensive about this visit. They couldn’t have guessed it would all turn out so well.

“Thank you, sir,” said David, very moved.

Ken just crossed the room and gave our Dad a massive hug.

Even the memory makes me smile. That was over a year ago, now. And this time, my rampaging toddler is a little boy who worships Uncle Ken and Uncle David. It was only yesterday that peaceful garden was the scene of a riotous water fight. But Ken and David weren’t tearing about like little kids now. They were just sitting quietly side by side, looking out over the water. Then, at the same moment, they turned to look at each other, and for a moment they were poised, in complete tranquility. Then their lips met, gently, blissfully. I swallowed hard, and blinked back a tear. I’d never seen them kiss before, and I should have looked away, I knew that. But I couldn’t. It was so moving. I think it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

The moment was too brief for me. But they’re used to restraint, to being careful in public. Cheerfully, they hauled each other to their feet, and brought their breakfast things back indoors. But they were only out of sight for a few seconds. When they came back into view, they had their hands on each other’s shoulders, and they got into the row-boat side by side. Taking an oar each, they dipped into the water in unison, and the perfectly-trimmed little boat moved off at an impressive speed.

It was beautiful to see, but it made me a little sad. How often I’d been in that boat with Michael, and he’d taken both oars. If I’d suggested my taking one of them, he’d have laughed. However much he loves and respects me as an equal – and I know he does – I can never be his equal physically. Ken and David were nearly out of sight now, and with a sigh, I turned away from the window, and went to the cot. The restless, snuffly baby who’d brought me from my bed so early in the first place, was sleeping peacefully now. I smiled, and stroked her soft head. She and her big brother were a great blessing and a great joy, and one that Ken and David would never know. And as I climbed back into bed, and felt the warmth of my sleeping husband snuggle up against me, I knew I loved him with all my heart, and was glad we never had to hide our love from any disapproval. I was happy with my life, and grateful for it. But when I thought of Ken and David, a true partnership of true equals, I did envy them.