Presents Under the Tree

72

An extra tag to LITTLE GIRL LOST. What happens after Starsky and Hutch leave Kiko’s apartment?

 

Originally published in Blue Eyes and Blue Jeans 2 in 1996 by Linda McGee, Kath Moonshine, and Mary Louise Fisher, under the name, Idiot Triplets Press.

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“You know, you’re getting to be really weird,” Starsky accused after his partner had asked, ‘Isn’t that nice?’ A tree. Hutch had given him a tree for Christmas. Not only that, but a tree in a public park. Starsky’s first impulse was to tell the grinning man just what he thought of the ‘gift,’ but he bit back his angry response.

So, it wasn’t what he would consider a proper Christmas present, but it was a present, and he firmly believed that it was the thought that counted. As long as he ignored his suspicion that this was intended to be a joke, it was okay.

They had indulged themselves in some of the best home cooking they had eaten in months. Kiko’s mom was an excellent cook. Stuffed, and completely lazy, Starsky was too sated to be very angry.

When all the gifts had been opened, Starsky thanked their hostess enthusiastically. Then, hoping that his lover would take the hint, he announced, “All that good eating has made me sleepy. Think I’ll go home and take a nice long nap.”

He and Hutch had enjoyed a physical relationship for several months and it was not often that they had a full day to just enjoy each other’s company. Hutch delivered his thanks as well, and they left to walk back to Hutch’s apartment.

As they passed Starsky’s car, Hutch stopped. “Have a nice nap, pal. I have a few errands to run, then I think I might do the same.”

Taken aback, Starsky started to explain that he had wanted to spend some time with his partner, but changed his mind. Hutch was acting strange. Maybe one of those errands was to surprise him at his place with his real present. “Okay, buddy, I’ll see you later. Merry Christmas.”

* * * *

Much later, Hutch closed the book he had been reading and noticed that it was dark outside. He had not realized how late it had gotten. He stretched and looked at the clock. Ten thirty. Maybe Starsky was finished with his holiday visiting. He had called a couple of times during the afternoon, but there had been no answer.

Wanting to see how his partner had enjoyed the day, and curious as to what he might have gotten for Christmas, Hutch pulled on the new velour sweatshirt his Mom had sent and left for the short drive over to Starsky’s.

The Torino was sitting out in front when he got there. His knock went unanswered but the door was not locked and he let himself in. A small box of Christmas decorations was by the door where Starsky had taken them down. The curly head was bent over the train set on the floor as Starsky tried to align the wheels of the locomotive.

“Hi, buddy, having fun?” Hutch called as he approached.

Starsky jumped violently, further derailing the train, and grabbed at his chest. “God, what’cha tryin’ to do?! Give me a coronary?!”

“I knocked!” Hutch protested in self-defense as he sat down on the sofa.

“Well, I didn’t hear you.” Starsky set the train back up-right. “What’cha want?”

“I just came to see how your Christmas was. What did you get?”

“Excuse me?”

“What did you get for Christmas?”

“Very funny. This is me laughing. Ha. Ha.”

“Seriously, Starsk. I’m interested. Really. What did you get?”

“Okay, seriously, Hutch. I got a tree. A tree I couldn’t even find, but a tree.”

“No, not from me, stupid. I know what you got from me. What did you get from other people? What did your Mom send you?”

Starsky turned around and looked at him appraisingly. He couldn’t decide if his partner was being sincere. He made a very conscious decision to keep his temper and his tongue under control until he was sure. “Hutch, you know that I’m Jewish. Mom doesn’t celebrate Christmas, dummy. It’s a Christian holiday, remember?”

“Oh. I didn’t think of that. Sorry,” he apologized. “What about from other people then?”

“Who?” That word held some of the building anger at his friend’s insensitivity. “Who else would give me Christmas presents? Anyone who knows me well enough to give me a present also knows that I’m Jewish! I guess they think that I wouldn’t appreciate being part of their religious holiday. No one ever gives me Christmas presents except…” He stopped his tirade and turned back to the train set.

“Me,” Hutch finished for him in a meek voice, slowly beginning to think maybe his stand against Christmas commercialism hadn’t been very well thought out. “No one else gave you anything?”

“It’s not a big deal. Not my holiday anyway.”

“You did go to visit someone today, though, didn’t you? I mean, you did have a good time?” The worry line between his eyes was becoming more noticeable, but his partner still had his back to him and could not see the concern.

“I had a good time at Kiko’s,” he agreed. “He and his mom are good people. And I really like Molly. I’m glad everything is working out for her.”

“After that,” Hutch insisted, exasperation creeping into his voice. Was Starsky deliberately being dense?

“I told you I was coming home for a nap. I waited around for a while, so that if you decided to come over… but you didn’t. After that, I went to see if I could find my tree. I don’t quite know what they meant in that certificate when they said ‘a tree has been planted in your name.’ I didn’t find any tree that looked like it had been planted recently.”

Hutch felt sick to his stomach as the implications of what his friend was saying finally sunk in. Starsky had been so excited about Christmas for weeks.

Hutch admitted to himself that part of the reason he had been so against the holiday this year had been his partner’s childlike exuberance. That and a good dose of homesickness. He missed the white Yule seasons of his childhood. Mixed into that was a full measure of the cynicism this job was creating in him, and he had called a moratorium on Christmas, determined not to let the false good wishes of insincere people trap him into the commercialism.

He had not even thought about Starsky’s Christmas. Damn! He cursed himself for his selfishness.

“You went all the way out to West Side Park?”

“Didn’t have anything better to do.” Starsky got up and went toward the kitchen. “Want a beer?”

“No, thank you.” Hutch’s throat felt so tight he didn’t think he could swallow it Starsky came back from the kitchen with a beer in one hand and a tiny reindeer in the other. He tossed the decoration into the box by the door, and sat down in the armchair across from Hutch.

“You took your decorations down early this year,” Hutch commented, trying to think of something to keep a conversation going.

“Didn’t have much up. Kinda silly to even bother.”

“I thought you had a tree.”

“It’s at your place. I took it over there for Molly. You can toss it out when you get home.”

Hutch remembered Starsky bringing the little tree in, and what he said as he set it on the table. Just the kind of thing you put presents under.

The blond was suddenly on his feet “Come on, we have to go to my place.”

“Tm not in the mood. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No, we have to go now.” He reached to take his partner’s arm, a real urgency in his voice.

“What’s gotten into you, Hutchinson? You’ve been acting weirder and weirder lately. You having a breakdown or something?”

“Or something. Humor me, buddy. Please just this one last time?” He tugged on the arm again and his eyes pleaded for cooperation. “Hurry, we don’t have much time.”

Starsky looked at him suspiciously. “Okay, I’ll come with you, but I’m telling you right now, I’m not in the mood to get fucked, so don’t try it.”

“I deserved that. I promise not to pull anything. Just hurry.”

* * * *

There was complete silence in the car between the two apartments. Starsky kept a cautious eye on his partner, who was driving like a madman. He had no idea what was compelling Hutch toward his apartment in this frenzied haste and he wasn’t at all sure he wanted to know.

Once at Venice Place, Hutch propelled him up the stairs in the same hurried fashion and then directed him to take a seat on the sofa. The blond disappeared into the bedroom and returned in only a moment carrying two packages.

When Starsky saw them he stood up. “No.”

Hutch froze, confusion on his face. “No?”

“I don’t know what your game is, but I’m not playing. I want to go home.”

“No games. These are for you.”

“Uh-uh. Don’t want ’em. I don’t understand you. You’ve been telling me for days that you didn’t get me anything. I believe you. Now that it’s too late, you haul those out and want me to take them. I don’t need your recycled presents. Shit, you haven’t even opened them yet. There might be something in there you want to keep.”

“Recycled?” Understanding dawned. “No, I bought these for you. Honest! I just wasn’t going to give them to you…”

Starsky cut him off. “Goodnight. I’ll walk home.”

“Let me finish!” Hutch dropped the packages on the sofa, and raced to get between his friend and the door. “Let me explain, then if you still want to go, I’ll drive you home. I swear!”

Starsky seemed to be deciding if it was worth a fight to get past his partner, then gave in. “Okay, explain.”

“Will you sit down?”

Starsky turned back toward the sofa but when he saw the packages, he went to sit in the Windsor chair instead.

With a hand on each of Starsky’s knees, Hutch kneeled on the floor in front of him. “I know I’ve been acting strange and I’m sorry. You usually know me so well I just assumed you knew what I was doing. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just couldn’t take all the phoniness everyone was putting out. I wanted Christmas to be what it’s supposed to be, a time for love and peace, but in our work we never see any of that. All I saw were people trying to make a quick buck, trying to get something instead of giving. I didn’t want any part of it.

“I didn’t think about how you looked at it. You seemed to be caught up in the commercialism, too. I wanted you to have a good Christmas, Starsk, I really did. I just couldn’t be a part of the phoniness.”

In a weary voice, Starsky said, “You told me all this before. I understand, you don’t want to be a part of Christmas. So will you please tell me what’s going on now?”

“In trying not to be a part of their Christmas, I lost sight of what’s important. Our Christmas. Like it’s really supposed to be. Giving because you want to. Giving because you love someone.” His eyes were bright with emotion. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Those presents really are for you. I bought them months ago because I wanted you to have them, not because it’s Christmas but because I thought of you when I saw them in the store. I was going to wait a few days and give them to you, so that they would be a gift just because I love you, not because I’m expected to give you something at Christmas.”

“So, why did you change your mind? Why are you giving them to me now?”

“Because you missed your Christmas because of me. You love it so much, and I spoiled it for you. I’m sorry.” He looked down, then.

“Hey, it’s okay. I told you. It isn’t really my holiday anyway.”

“It’s our holiday, Starsk, and if you hurry, there’s still a little Christmas day left.” The clock on the wall said that it was 11:45. Fifteen minutes remained of December twenty-fifth.

Starsky nodded, his eyes suddenly stinging at the big smile of relief on Hutch’s face as the blond reached for the packages. Starsky tore into the first one and found a deep navy blue sweater. “See, I knew you were gonna get me a sweater. Thanks, blintz.” The second package was soon uncovered to reveal the red caboose he had wanted for his train set. Starsky had correctly guessed both of the items Hutch had bought for him.

“I guess I’m a little too predictable,” Hutch shrugged.

“Predictable is the last thing I would call you, lover.” Starsky leaned forward for a kiss which erased all the hurt and tension between them. In a provocative tone, he invited, “Come on into the bedroom and I’ll give you your other present from me.”