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This is a sequel to "New Beginnings" which can be found on the same expanded story page as this one. I tried to link the stories, but it wouldn't let me.
Life as We Know It
Sequel to “New Beginnings”
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…” The minister’s voice droned on as the black canopy snapped and fluttered in the brittle December Minnesota wind.
Starsky stood beside his partner on the snowy hillside, watching as the silver coffin was lowered into the cold, hard ground. Snow swirled furiously in the air, racing in mad circles on every gust of wind that bit at the mourners’ exposed skin. Hutch had the blue cashmere scarf that Starsky had given him wrapped around his lower face, shielding it from the frigid air while trapping the warmth of his breath in its confines. His gloved hands burrowed deep into the pockets of his black overcoat. Starsky stood close enough to him so that their shoulders touched, offering him the only support he could at the moment. He worried about him; he hadn’t once shed a tear since his father had passed away, and he wasn’t sleeping much, if any.
Barbara Hutchinson stood at Hutch’s right, sniffling into her late husband Jonathan’s white linen handkerchief. Hutch’s younger sister, Carolyn, had one arm wrapped around her mother’s waist and the other around her husband, Stan. Their twin boys had been taken home by a friend after the funeral.
The ceremony inside the huge Lutheran church downtown had been quite crowded, but only the family was present for the burial in the austere, snowy graveyard, per Barbara’s wishes. In the distance a bell tolled, and an involuntary shiver ran up Starsky’s spine at the lonesome sound in such a somber setting.
He turned to his left and glanced at his mother, Joanne, who solemnly stood wrapped in her green wool coat, the hood pulled over her head and tied snuggly beneath her chin. Only a few brunette curls streaked with gray escaped to cover her forehead. She gave her son an encouraging smile, knowing that he was suffering for the man he loved and his family. Neither of them had ever expected that Hutch’s father would pass away during their visit to Minnesota, but they couldn’t help but be glad they were there to lend their support to the family.
Hutch, Barbara, and Carolyn each threw a red rose into the grave, and they all turned to leave, guiltily anxious to get out of the knife-like wind. Once inside one of the dark sedans, Starsky moved closer to his friend and offered him a hand to hold. Hutch clasped it thankfully, but turned his face toward the window and stared out with blank eyes, removed, as he had been since the morning they’d awakened to find that Jonathan Hutchinson had died quietly in his sleep.
Neighbors and friends had left the funeral service and come straight to the Hutchinson farm loaded down with food. Monika Bowling and her daughter, Hillary, who were the Hutchinson’s closest neighbors, coordinated the process, and Starsky found himself blushing when he thanked them, knowing they had been unwilling listeners to the enthusiastic noise he and Hutch had made upstairs a few days before. The Bowlings and the rest of the neighbors reiterated their sorrow to the family and faded away into the snowy Minnesota afternoon.
“It’ll go to waste,” Barbara said plaintively, surveying the tables full of food after the last of them had left.
“We can take some of it to the local homeless shelter,” Joanne suggested, and Barbara gave her friend a warm smile.
“You always know the right thing to do,” she sighed. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Mom, do you need us to do anything before we head off to get the boys?” Carolyn asked.
“You’re bringing them back here, aren’t you?” Barbara wanted to know. “They can eat some of this food!”
Carolyn and Stan looked at each other. “Sure, we’ll come back for dinner, okay?”
Barbara nodded and went to sit in the living room where the Christmas tree stood. Jonathan had died on December 27th, just two days previous. Starsky and his mother had been scheduled to fly back to New York on the 28th, but had hastily changed their plans.
Carolyn turned to Hutch and gave him a hug. She placed her hand gently on his cheek. “You okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine, Caro,” Hutch said softly, “What about you?”
“I’ll be okay.” She kissed him and then kissed Starsky, giving him a brief, questioning look before turning to leave. She’d seen the distance in her brother’s eyes.
As Hutch crossed the living room to take a seat by his mother on the sofa, Starsky watched him from the doorway, still amazed at how easily he’d gone from friend and partner to lover. While he might have casually admired Hutch’s looks in the past, now he found himself noticing the way the dark slacks hugged his thighs, ass, and hips, and how his gray shirt revealed the lines and contours of his back when he stretched to hand his mother her reading glasses. Whoa, down boy. Your partner’s just lost his father, he reminded himself.
“It was just so sudden,” Barbara set down the stack of condolence cards she been reading and moaned into her son’s shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her. “I thought he had months left…”
“I know, Mom,” Hutch said in his soft voice, and kissed the top of her ash-blond head. “We thought we had some time.” Jonathan Hutchinson had been dying of pancreatic cancer, but it was the sudden stopping of his heart that had killed him.
“He wanted to get to know you, Ken. I mean, really get to know you!” Barbara wiped tears from her eyes with the handkerchief she still clutched tightly. “He knew he was wrong to spend all those years working instead of at home when you and Carolyn were growing up. He’d had some time with your sister recently, but he was robbed of his time with you!”
Hutch remained silent, but his eyes sought out his partner on the other side of the room—eyes that Starsky noticed were carefully devoid of emotion. Starsky brought him a beer from the bar and Barbara a glass of the burgundy wine she liked. Joanne was sipping tea, curled up in an oversized chair. The room was darkening as the day progressed. The wind moaned through the eaves of the large, aging house and rattled at the windows. It was a fitting sound for everyone’s moods.
Starsky turned some soft music on the stereo and Barbara asked him to plug up the Christmas tree lights. Their soft glow reflecting off the gold balls softened the darkness and brought warmth and comfort to the room. Starsky sat down on the other side of Hutch, placing his hand on his partner’s knee, and everyone remained quietly reflective for a long time while the snow fell silently outside the window.
When the anniversary clock on the mantel chimed five, Joanne lay asleep in the chair, a soft cashmere comforter wrapped around her shoulders. Barbara stared pensively at the tree, the cards still clutched in her lap, while Starsky and Hutch talked quietly about inconsequential things. The German Shepard, Sergeant, now bereft of his master, snored softly on the floor, his head resting on Starsky’s foot. Hutch had hired someone to care for the horses for a few days while the family took time to grieve and recover from the shock, and he was relieved to not have to worry about that chore for the time being.
Suddenly, the near-silence was broken by the boisterous entrance of Bobby and Simon, Hutch’s twin six-year-old nephews. Too young to be silenced by the pall of death, they clamored into the living room, jerking Joanne into wakefulness and Barbara out of her morose reverie. She held her arms open, and they tumbled in, hugging and kissing her, and, Hutch noted, bringing a much needed bit of color to her pallid features.
“I’ll heat up the dinner,” Carolyn called from the kitchen as Stan hung up their coats in the mud room.
“It’s really snowing out there,” he commented as he entered the living room. Joanne stood up and stretched, then went into the kitchen to help with the meal.
“God, Mom, let’s turn on some lights,” Carolyn said a short while later. She clicked on the desk lamp and the small Tiffany lamp by the sofa. “There, that’s better. What have you all been doing?”
“Just sitting here, Caro,” Hutch informed her. “We haven’t moved since you left.”
Carolyn didn’t reply to that, just stood looking at them determinedly as though her nurse’s heart was seeking a way to make it all better.
“Come and get it,” Joanne called from the dining room where she and Carolyn had placed freshly heated platters of various casseroles and side dishes on the long cherry wood table. They all filed in and took their seats, the boys chattering away about the toys they’d played with that afternoon. They knew their grandfather had died, but the concept was lost on their childish hearts.
Everyone began filling their plates, unable to keep from mentally comparing this solemn meal to that of their festive Christmas dinner with Jonathan present just a few days prior. Hutch knew that if the twins hadn’t been there to demand attention, the only sounds heard throughout dinner would be the intermittent clinking of silverware on china. As it was, he was immensely grateful to Starsky and Stan for chatting away cheerfully with the boys, as the Hutchinson family was unable to summon the energy to do it themselves.
Finally, the day came to an end. Carolyn and her family decided to stay, due to the copious amount of snow that was still falling. They’d come prepared with packed bags, and headed upstairs to one of the three guest bedrooms.
“I’m going to sit up for a while with Barbara,” Joanne announced to Starsky and Hutch as they loaded the dishwasher in the spacious kitchen. “Sometimes only another widow can understand.”
“Goodnight, Ma,” Starsky said, kissing his mother on the cheek.
“Thank you, Mrs. Starsky, for being so good to my mother,” Hutch told her. Impulsively, Joanne hugged him, hard.
“You’re family, Hutch. Stop thanking me all the time.” She pinched his cheek and went to join Joanne in the TV room.
“Ow,” Hutch said when she’d left, lifting his hand to his cheek and rubbing it.
“I know! It hurts, doesn’t it? I’ve been telling Ma that for years, but she says I’m being a baby.”
They loaded the last of the dishes, added detergent, and turned the dishwasher on. Starsky made short work of wiping down the counters and dining room table while Hutch swept the floor.
At the foot of the stairs, Hutch announced his intention to spend some time in his father’s study.
“Hutch,” Starsky said, putting a hand on his arm. “You’re hardly sleeping. You slip in bed sometime in the night and you’re up before I get up.”
“I can’t sleep, Starsk.”
“I understand that, but are you avoiding me?” Starsky’s violet eyes bore into Hutch’s, searching for answers.
“Of course not,” Hutch said softly. “But…I don’t know. I just need time.”
“I’ll give you all the time you want,” Starsky assured him, moving to stand so that their chests almost touched. “but I’m worried about you, partner.”
Hutch smiled. “I’m okay. Go to bed. I want to look through my father’s papers.”
With a sigh, Starsky climbed the steps to their bedroom alone. He and Hutch had barely had any time to explore their new relationship before the tragedy. Now Hutch was withdrawing. Starsky didn’t know what was going on in his friend’s head, but he did know that Hutch wasn’t dealing with his grief.
Carolyn was just closing the door to Hutch’s old bedroom where the boys shared the double bed. When she saw Starsky, she stopped to speak with him.
“How is Kenny, really?”
“He’s all right, I guess. But not sleeping.”
“He has mixed feelings when it comes to Dad, I think,” Carolyn said quietly. “He moved away and never really got to know him the way I did. Of course, it wasn’t until Dad got sick that he really afforded me the opportunity, but still…”
“Hutch’ll come around in his own time,” Starsky replied.
“What about you, Dave?” Carolyn questioned. “Mom told me that we had been wrong about you two all this time…that you weren’t really lovers? But now you are?”
Starsky laughed softly. “Sounds crazy, I know. Of course, we’ve always been close, but no---we were not lovers before this trip. I guess all the talk about us made us take a new look at our relationship.”
Carolyn shook her head. “Unbelievable. I would’ve sworn you two were in each other’s beds years ago.”
Starsky just smiled and shook his head. They said goodnight and he went to lie down in the dark, missing Hutch’s warmth beside him. He couldn’t help wonder how much of Hutch’s withdrawal into himself had to do with his father’s death, and how much had to do with the new aspect of their relationship. Starsky lay in the dark remembering how Hutch’s accident at the barn had shaken Starsky up, making him realize that he’d been fooling himself, trying to tell himself that he and Hutch were not ‘faggots’. And, when Hutch had recovered, how Starsky had boldly stepped into the shower with him and seduced him. Looking at it objectively, Starsky really couldn’t believe that they had gone all the way their very first time. It probably hadn’t been the smartest thing they’d ever done, but, their minds fogged by long-suppressed lust, they’d done it anyway. Hutch had let him penetrate him anally---well, to be more exact, Hutch had sat on his cock, right there in the tub, and, although they’d used oil and Hutch definitely enjoyed it, it must’ve hurt, too. Starsky had noticed Hutch walking and sitting a bit carefully for more than a day afterward. That same night, after finally facing their mothers and admitting that they’d been right-- about their feelings for one another, at least-- they’d been satisfied just to kiss and hold each other. It was the morning after that Barbara had awakened them with her cries from the bedroom, and Hutch had rushed in, practically naked, to confirm her fear—Jonathan had died in his sleep.
Hutch hadn’t been the same since. He hadn’t slept a full night, and he seemed closed-off to everyone, including Starsky. Was it all due to his father’s death, or did some of it have to do with the fact that they’d had sex? Starsky knew so little about homosexual relationships. Did the fact that Hutch had ‘bottomed’ bothered his partner? He seemed to remember Hutch saying something like, ‘I want to feel you deep inside me’, so Hutch had at least thought it was something he’d wanted. Had he been wrong?
But Hutch had acted perfectly natural later on. No, Hutch’s mood had everything to do with the death of his father, and Starsky suspected that the fact that Jonathan Hutchinson and his son had not been close made everything even worse. It was one thing for a loved one to die when everything had been said between the two of you and he knew you loved him, but it was something else when all you’d had was empty conversations and a boat load of guilt.
Starsky would have to find a way to help Hutch through it all.
***
Downstairs Joanne and Barbara were on their fifth glasses of wine. They’d already cried over their deceased husbands, and had changed the topic to their sons’ relationship.
“I still can’t believe that they haven’t been lovers all this time,” Barbara said, burping lightly behind her fingers.
“Me neither,” Joanne said. “I was so certain…they’ve always been all over one another. I think they just repressed it.” She started giggling. “To think…we actually got them together!”
Barbara smiled. “Yeah. Hey…did you see Hillary Bowling earlier? She wouldn’t even look at Dave or Ken.”
“What a homophobe,” Joanne said disgustedly.
Barbara laughed, and it felt good, although she also felt guilty for having fun. Frankly, she was a little drunk. But she and Joanne had already discussed that and decided that laughing was important, and getting drunk was even more important. “Oh, I don’t know. She may just be embarrassed…after all that they heard that day.”
“That was certainly something,” Joanne said, remembering the moans and cries they’d heard through the ceiling. “And then they’d gone rushing out for fruitcake!” The two women laughed until weak at the memory.
“Joanne…” Barbara said suddenly, “your husband’s been gone a long time. What do you do for sex?”
“Oh, I have a few gentlemen friends,” Joanne said.
Barbara frowned. “I can’t imagine going to bed with anyone but Jonathan.”
“That’ll change in time.”
Barbara sighed. “What’s really sad is I don’t have any friends. Nobody like you, that is. I have the ladies in my various clubs, but we don’t have the kind of friendship where we can sit and talk and laugh like you and I do. I’ll miss you when you go back home.”
“I’ll miss you, too. I have some female friends, but we don’t see each other much. Their husbands are still alive, and they’re busy.”
“I wish you lived here.”
“It would be great living near you, Barb, but it’s too cold here. I thought New York was cold, but this is something! Sometimes, though, I’ve thought about moving to California to be near David.” She ran a hand through her salt and pepper curls, absently twirling one around her index finger.
“Really? It would be nice to be where it’s warm…”
“Are you considering it?” Joanne asked.
“Well, it has crossed my mind a time or two since Jonathan was diagnosed. And I’ve been thinking how lonely I’m going to be here when you and Dave and Kenneth leave. Carolyn has her own life with her family.”
Joanne thought a moment. “I used to feel like I had to be near Nicky because he was always getting into trouble, but now that he’s serious about this girl, he’s really changing. Maybe we should discuss this with the boys.”
“I don’t think they even know what they’re going to do with their future,” Barbara said. “But we can talk to them about it. We’d better get to bed; it’s after midnight.”
They rose a little unsteadily, turned out the lights, and headed upstairs.
***
All night long, Hutch sat at his father’s desk pouring over the documents from his strong box, sorting through his life insurance policies and making notes. When Starsky got up and looked disapprovingly at Hutch’s rumpled appearance and weary eyes, Hutch suggested that he and Joanne go to a movie and a local restaurant for lunch. He reluctantly agreed.
Hutch was relieved when they were all out of the house. He wanted to be alone. Carolyn and her family had left, Carolyn having to work, and Barbara had insisted on going to the gym to get her mind off things for a while. Sighing, he stood up and stretched out his back muscles, moving to the chair by the window to look out at the snowy landscape of the Hutchinson farm. He had gone through everything except for the still unopened enveloped addressed to “my son”. He simply couldn’t bring himself to open it. It sat waiting on the desk, but Hutch turned his back to it and settled down in the chair. He would read it today, but first he was just going to take a little rest. Before he knew it, he’d fallen asleep.
***
Starsky and his mother had decided not to see a movie after all, but headed to the mall instead. Joanne wanted to look around at the after-Christmas sales, which were still going on. While she perused one of the department stores, he headed to a bookstore and straight to the sex aisle. Although slightly embarrassed, he was determined to find out what he could about the subject of two men having sex together.
After spending almost an hour looking through books, Starsky decided that he and Hutch didn’t exactly fit in any kind of cookie cutter homosexual relationship. Wading through terms like ‘bottom’, ‘top’, ‘power bottom’, ‘power top’, ‘versatile top and bottom’, etc., he decided that they would probably fall into the latter, being that their relationship had always been an equal partnership. Although Starsky had never imagined himself being penetrated by a man, he also couldn’t imagine not giving Hutch the right to penetrate him. Whether or not he would like it remained to be seen. That is, if Hutch ever got in bed with him again while they were both awake.
“There you are,” Joanne Starsky said, spotting her son at the end of the aisle. “Thought I’d find you over in the fiction section.” She tactfully didn’t mention what section she had found him in. “Are you ready for lunch?”
Starsky slipped the book he’d been looking through back on the bottom shelf and stood up. “Sure. I’m pretty hungry.”
“Aren’t you buying anything?” she asked her son when he left the aisle empty-handed.
“Nope. Just looking.”
They walked back out into the mall and chose a Mexican restaurant with a glassed-in patio. Joanne ordered a Margarita, and Starsky a beer. “Well, Ma, I guess you’re probably eager to be getting home,” Starsky ventured, dipping a chip into some salsa and eating it in one bite.
“Chew your food, Dave,” Joanne directed. “No, dear, I’m really not in any hurry. Are you? I wouldn’t think you’d want to leave Hutch right now.”
“No, I don’t want to leave. Hutch isn’t dealing with this very well. He’s crammed it all inside and won’t let it out.”
“How are things between the two of you?”
Starsky shrugged, avoiding her gaze.
“You can talk to me, David. I may be your mother, but I’m also a person. I had thought you and Hutch were lovers for a long time…I’d accepted it. Nothing you can say is going to shock me…I know all about the birds and the bees.”
Starsky swallowed and stared outside.
“Is it not as good as you’d hoped?” Joanne prompted. “I mean, I don’t know the specifics about man on man sex, but…”
“Ma!” Starsky looked around in embarrassment. “Would you please lower your voice?” He let out a sigh and took a large gulp of beer. “Yes, it was terrific…as you and the neighbors probably figured out. But we haven’t had a chance to be together since then, and Hutch is pushing me away. I thought about it, and I know it has everything to do with his father’s death, which I guess is understandable. They weren’t close, and now they never will be.”
Joanne nodded. “I’m sure it isn’t easy for him. It never is when things are left unsaid.”
“That’s something me and Hutch learned a long time ago in our profession. We never let a fight between us drag on. But Hutch never seemed to apply that to his own family. I don’t know what to do for him, Ma.”
“I think you do, David. You always do. You just need the chance to do it. Maybe you and Hutch can get away together for a while. Alone.”
“Maybe,” Starsky said. The waitress came back and took their orders.
“David, Barbara and I were talking last night. Would you be opposed to the thought of the two of us moving to California to be closer to you and Hutch?”
Starsky was so surprised at his mother’s words, he dropped the chip he’d been holding onto his lap. Wiping at the mess of salsa with his napkin, he struggled to reply. “What? But…Ma, you’ve never said…I mean, I didn’t know you wanted to leave New York. It’s all you know!”
“It’s cold there,” Joanne said. “And Nick needs to be completely on his own without me for a safety net, expecially with this nice girl he’s seeing now. And for a long time now, I’ve been wanting to be closer to Rosa and Al. Tell the truth—how do you feel about the idea?”
Starsky thought about it. “I guess I really don’t have a problem with it. It would be nice to have you closer, and I’d worry about you less. But is this really something Hutch’s mother wants to do, too?”
“She doesn’t want to rattle around on that big farm by herself, and she doesn’t want to be a burden to Carolyn, who has a family and a full-time job. She really doesn’t have any good friends, you know. Just all those snooty committees she works on. Her marriage was her everything, and now that’s gone. Plus, David, we really get along well. We could be roommates.”
Starsky couldn’t believe this turn of events. He wished Hutch was there to hear it. “Well, Ma, I guess you should do just exactly what you want to do. I can’t speak for Hutch and his mother, but I would really like it if you would move out to California. Especially if you have a nice friend like Barbara to live with.”
Joanne reached out and squeezed her son’s hand where it rested on the table. “You are such a good boy, David. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Ma. We’ll all talk about it later today. I hope Hutch has finished with his father’s papers. They only depress him.”
“Make him talk to you.”
“I’ll try.”
***
When they got home, the house was quiet. Starsky found Hutch asleep in the study, and took an afghan off the leather couch and draped it over him. Glancing at the desk, he saw that the strong box was out, and around it sat several piles of documents. Moving a little closer, he noticed a white envelope with “my son” scrawled across the front. Starsky lifted it and turned it over. It was still sealed. He sighed and put it down.
In the kitchen, Joanne was sitting with Barbara and drinking tea. “It’s snowing again,” she said.
“Seems to do that a lot here,” Starsky commented, taking a seat between the two ladies. “Hutch is asleep in the study.”
Barbara was still in her sweats, although they were such an expensive brand, Starsky mused, she probably could’ve worn them just about anywhere.
“Your mother tells me she told you about our little plan,” Barbara said to Starsky.
“I think it’s a great idea, if that’s what you want. But I think I know what Hutch is gonna say---that you’re making decisions too soon.”
“Not really. I’ve been thinking about this ever since Jonathan was diagnosed.”
Barbara continued on, discussing the merits of an apartment over a house, how difficult it might be to sell the farm, the beach and something about southern exposure--soon Starsky lost the thread of the conversation completely. He found himself gazing at the ring on his right pinkie finger. Hutch had given it to him for Christmas. It was white gold and had both Hutch’s and Starsky’s birthstones in it. It was beautiful, and Starsky’s heart turned over every time he caught sight of it on his hand. Appropriately, he and Hutch had shared their first kiss afterward, although it had only been to appease their mothers. He yearned to go take his partner into his arms. To kiss him senseless and slowly strip off every piece of his clothing until he was naked before him. He loved Hutch’s body, and he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to fully explore it yet. Some of the things he’d seen in the books earlier that day had given him ideas and certain yearnings that were making him hard just thinking about them.
Suddenly he realized that both women had stood up and were looking toward the hall. He heard something, and snapped to attention, recognizing Hutch’s voice raised in distress. He swiftly got to his feet. Hutch’s mother had already run for the study, and he made it there a couple of seconds after her. He stood in the doorway, his mouth open in surprise. Hutch was in a rage, yelling obscenities and tearing the room apart.
“David…” Barbara put her hand on his arm and he glanced down into her worried blue eyes. Joanne came up behind her and met her son’s gaze, her look clearly stating that the moment they’d spoken of over lunch had clearly arrived. Starsky moved forward carefully, giving his partner room.
“Hutch…” he said, watching the desk chair get slammed against the wall. “Hutch!” he said more loudly.
Hutch swiped everything off the desk. A paperweight hit the hardwood floor, leaving a dent. The small lamp crashed. Its shade twisted, the bulb scattering into pieces of glass all over the floor. Papers flew everywhere. Hutch’s chest heaved, his face red and covered in sweat. Nothing he yelled made much sense, just various exclamations sprinkled with curse words.
Starsky moved closer and grasped Hutch by the arms. “What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to get his partner to meet his gaze. Hutch pushed him away, and Starsky saw tears on his cheeks. Looking around, he spotted the letter opened and on the chair where Hutch had been sitting.
“Hutch---did you read the letter from your father?” He tried to follow his hysterical partner’s zig-zagging progress around the room. Finally Hutch stopped and leaned against the mantel, breathing hard. “Is that what’s got you so upset, Hutch?”
Hutch turned and looked at Starsky, the abject misery on his face going straight to Starsky’s heart.
“Why did he have to go so soon after—“Hutch broke into sobs, and Starsky took a step toward him. In the doorway, Joanne and Barbara moved back out into the hall to give their sons privacy.
Starsky moved to take his partner in his arms, but Hutch pushed away from him, stumbling to the corner of the room and falling onto his knees.
“Hutch, I know it seems unfair that your father left you before you could fix some of the things between you, but…”
Hutch threw his head back and laughed, a tear-sodden, unhinged sound that made Starsky’s blood run cold in his veins. “Oh, that’s rich…that’s what you think. Well, I’m not surprised. That’s what a normal son would be crying about, right?”
To Starsky’s dismay, Hutch slid down onto his stomach and laid his head on the floor, just beside the plaid dog bed where, amazingly, Sergeant lay sleeping through the riot.
“Hutch-“
Hutch began to sob again.
After a few moments, Hutch put his hand out and rested it on the dog’s head, stroking it gently. “Why’d you have to go, old boy? Huh?”
Starsky stared, the fact finally sinking in that Hutch was crying over the dog. His grief was totally out of proportion, considering that this wasn’t an animal that Hutch had grown up with. Rather, Sergeant had been a faithful companion to Jonathan Hutchinson, and the fact that the old dog had passed away so soon after his master was actually rather touching. But Starsky suspected that there was a lot more to this than met the eye. Starsky went and sat on the floor by his sobbing partner. Carefully, he placed a hand on Hutch’s shoulder.
“So you see, Starsk,” Hutch said wetly, “I’m not hysterical over my father’s death—but the dog’s!” He laughed again, his chuckles soon turning back into sobs. Starsky ran his hand down onto Hutch’s back, soothing him. “What kind of a son am I?” Hutch moaned. “Not much of one. Not even good enough to run his damned company!” The last bit was said with anger and an abrupt toss of Hutch’s hand toward the chair where the letter lay. “Sure, Dad said he wanted to spare me the stress of the business, but what he was really saying is that I’m not good enough to run Hutchinson Enterprises.”
Starsky moved his hand to Hutch’s hair, lightly combing his fingers through the silky blond strands, waiting for his partner to cry himself out. Finally, Hutch turned over onto his back and looked at Starsky with watery eyes.
“So what do you think about me now? Maybe you ought to run while you can, Starsky.”
Tears came to Starsky’s eyes as he recognized the plea behind the harsh words—never leave me. Slowly, he lowered himself down until he was lying on his side beside Hutch. He carefully took his friend’s right hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing each finger in turn before pressing the center of his palm to his lips. Then he lay it over Hutch’s heart. The tears spilled out of Hutch’s eyes as he watched, then with a groan, he turned toward Starsky and allowed him to pull him into his arms.
Another long cry ensued while Starsky held him, but when he was finished, Hutch seemed to feel almost himself again. Starsky helped him to his feet and they went together into the living room where Barbara was waiting. Joanne brought Hutch some coffee laced with brandy, and he smiled at her gratefully.
“Sergeant has passed away,” Starsky told the women solemnly, while Hutch stared into his mug.
“Oh,” Barbara said softly, while Joanne covered her own mouth with her hand.
“I’ll bury him for you,” Starsky offered.
“Thank you, dear. Bury him with his bed and blanket, if you would. Under the elm tree in the backyard. Poor Sarge…he was old, but he waited for his master to go first.”
Seeing Hutch’s lip beginning to tremble, Starsky nodded and changed the subject.
“Hutch, our mothers have been up to something that you need to know about.”
Hutch blinked, taking a sip of coffee. “What’s that?” He looked bewilderedly at the two older women sitting across from him. Barbara and Joanne gave each other sly smiles.
“Well, dear, I hope you won’t object, but Joanne and I have decided to move to California. Close to you.”
Hutch put his mug down on the coffee table. “Mom…are you sure about this? Shouldn’t you give it some thought?”
Starsky looked at Barbara and winked.
“I’ve been giving it thought for months, Kenneth. I don’t want to be here alone, and I don’t want Carolyn feeling like she has to be here all the time.”
As if on cue, Carolyn entered the house, her shift at the hospital having ended an hour earlier. They heard her drop her keys on the kitchen counter before she entered the living room. She had evidently been home, having changed out of her scrubs into blue jeans and a sweatshirt.
“What’s going on?” she asked, plopping down on a chair.
“Mom wants to move to California,” Hutch got right to the point.
“Is that why you’ve been crying?” Carolyn asked with a smirk.
Hutch couldn’t help but laugh, and the mood lightened. Rubbing his eyes with his palms, he told Carolyn about the dog.
“Ah, damn,” she swore. “I loved that dog. He went to be with Dad.”
“Dad left me a letter,” Hutch said suddenly. “He told me that he arranged with his lawyer to sell the business upon his death.”
Barbara didn’t seem surprised, but Hutch could see that his sister was.
“But---well, I’d always thought he’d leave it to you,” Carolyn said, looking at her brother.
“So did I,” Hutch admitted.
“Are you sorry he didn’t?” she asked. “Did you want to run it?”
“Of course not! If I hadn’t wanted to work for him when I was younger, why would I want to take over the business now?” He took a deep breath. “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt that he didn’t leave it to me.”
“Did he tell you why?”
“He said something about not wanting me to become what he’d been---someone so devoted to the business that everything else came second. He said that he knew I probably wouldn’t be having any children, but he still felt that my relationships should come first in my life.”
“Sounds to me like he’s agreeing that you’ve made the right choices,” Barbara put in. “Being a cop rather than a business man.”
“Maybe,” Hutch conceded, looking a little lighter.
Starsky put a hand on Hutch’s and squeezed.
“Now what do you think of me moving to California, Caro? Joanne’s going to move, too, and we’ll be roommates!” Barbara enthused.
Carolyn looked at the two women. “I say go for it! If that’s what you really want. And we usually get out there once a year as it is. We’ll probably go more often if you’re out there.”
Barbara and Joanne looked excitedly at one another.
“So much to plan!” Joanne said.
“Right now, we’d better plan dinner.” Barbara got up and motioned for Joanne to follow her into the kitchen.
“I’m going to stay the night,” Carolyn trailed after them. “But Stan and the kids are staying home.”
“Your mother looks like she has a new lease on life,” Starsky observed.
“Yeah,” Hutch said. “What do you think it’s going to be like, Starsk? Having our moms living near us.”
“I honestly don’t know.” Starsky turned to look at him. “Hey, why don’t you go upstairs and rest while I take care of Sergeant?”
Hutch shook his head. “I want to help, Starsk. Come on.”
***
The unhappy chore taken care of, Starsky and Hutch left their snowy outerwear in the mudroom and climbed the long staircase to the guest room they’d been sharing. Hutch closed the door behind them, sagging onto the bed with a long sigh.
“You’re wiped out, babe,” Starsky observed, shaking his head. “Lie down and relax. Let me get you comfortable.” He took off Hutch’s shoes and socks, then helped him out of his sweater and turtleneck. Hutch tried to assist him rather than just flop around like a rag doll, but it wasn’t easy; he was exhausted both emotionally and physically.
Once Starsky had him undressed, he maneuvered Hutch under the covers and stripped off his own clothes before joining him. Snuggled up under the down comforter, the two men held each other tenderly. It still felt so odd to be naked and pressed against one another, but neither could deny that it also felt incredibly good. Hutch’s heart eased the moment Starsky’s body touched his, and Starsky was so relieved to have Hutch with him again, he felt like crying.
“I’m so sorry this happened,” Starsky whispered into his friend’s ear.
Hutch lay his head on Starsky’s shoulder. “Do you think I’m weird? Crying for the dog but not for my father?”
“Aw, Hutch, you were crying as much for your Dad as you were for Sergeant. You’ve bottled it all up inside you, and you were crying for a lot of complicated reasons.”
“I’m so glad you’re here with me,” Hutch whispered, turning his head to steal a kiss. Their lips met in several soft, pliant caresses. “Make love to me, Starsky,” Hutch demanded huskily.
Starsky’s heart sped up, and he deepened their kiss, sliding his tongue between Hutch’s lips and tasting the coffee and brandy. He wondered how he ever could have lived without this singularly exquisite sensation of plundering Hutch’s warm mouth. If things hadn’t happened the way they did, would they ever have gotten together? Starsky liked to think that they would have.
“You know, you don’t always have to take the bottom,” Starsky murmured into Hutch’s mouth, sliding his questing fingers over smooth hips and around to taut stomach. “I’m willing, too.”
Hutch wrapped his arms around his partner, sliding his hands over the muscled back down to cup the firm mounds of buttocks. “I need to feel you inside me tonight, Starsk,” he said, and began kissing him in earnest, tongue delving and withdrawing, stoking the fire already alight in Starsky’s loins.
“Are you sure?” Starsky panted. “Didn’t it hurt the last time?”
“Not enough to keep me from doing it again,” Hutch assured him, latching his mouth onto the sensitive part of his neck.
With a loud groan, Starsky snatched the tube of lubricant from under his pillow and lifted Hutch’s legs up onto his shoulders. Just being so open to his lover elicited a throaty cry from Hutch that turned into a growl when Starsky inserted three glistening fingers inside him. “I’ve missed you,” Starsky whispered just before he replaced them with his cock.
“Oh, God!” Hutch cried out as Starsky entered his body, and Starsky brought his clean hand up to cover his mouth. “Shh!”
Hutch clamped the muscles of his ass onto Starsky’s cock, and Starsky let out a sharp grunt of passion.
“You try shushing!” Hutch hissed.
“You’ll pay for that, you naughty boy,” Starsky growled and began a slow slide into his narrow channel. He leaned forward and kissed Hutch’s eyes, nose, and mouth, thrusting shallowly, his balls tickling Hutch’s exposed ass.
“Ahh…oh God…”Hutch panted hoarsely.
“I’ve wanted you so bad these last couple of days,” Starsky said, hovering over him while he thrust. “I’ve wanted to take you like this, look into those beautiful eyes and know you’re mine.”
Hutch moaned low, driving Starsky to thrust harder. “I love it when you make those sounds, Hutch—all for me.”
Hutch writhed beneath him, his wanton squirming causing Starsky to lose it completely and begin thrusting hard, the bed squeaking rhythmically beneath them. Pleasure mounting, chests heaving, sweat breaking out on their bodies, they surged toward completion, Starsky moving faster, all the way in and then all the way out, then surging in again, enthralled by the soft noises of passion his partner was making as he leaned his head back, exposing his long, beautiful neck.
“It’s so good, Starsk…so good,” Hutch moaned, lost in pleasure. He felt his lover’s tongue run up his neck and shivered. “Love you inside me, babe. You’re huge—splitting me in fucking two,” he panted, meeting every surge of Starsky’s body with his own, his ankles tightening around Starsky’s neck and his body arching from its curved position toward the ceiling.
“So hot, so tight,” Starsky managed to get out as his balls tightened and he tensed, latching onto Hutch’s prick with his left hand and stroking it once, twice. Their bodies jerked at the same time, and they bit back their cries of ecstasy. When every last drop had been milked from him, Starsky slipped out and collapsed on Hutch’s stomach as his partner lowered his shaking legs to the mattress.
“Man, I needed that,” Hutch breathed, and Starsky turned his head to kiss him reverently just above his navel where his cum had formed a pearlescent pool.
“Could fuck you all night long, babe. Just give me a minute and we’ll go again.”
Hutch chuckled, the motion jostling Starsky’s head, and ran his fingers through the wayward curls. “I don’t think I could live through it, Starsk. But thanks for the offer. Besides, it’s not night yet. We haven’t even had dinner.”
“Whatever,” Starsky sighed, closing his eyes.
“You gonna sleep there with your nose in my spunk?” Hutch inquired with a yawn.
Starsky snaked his tongue out and lapped a bit up, making noises of enjoyment as he smacked his lips.
Hutch nudged at his head, “Come on, now, get up, you big whore!”
Starsky laughed outright and pushed himself off Hutch, rolling onto his back on the mattress.
“Hand me some tissues,” Hutch ordered, and Starsky obediently flopped an arm over to the night stand and plucked several out of the box, handing them to Hutch.
As his partner mopped himself up, Starsky looked over at him, his lapis blue eyes frankly adoring. “I love you, Hutch,” he said softly. Hutch tossed the damp tissues onto the floor and scooted down in the bed, pulling Starsky into his arms.
“I love you, too, Starsk.”
“I’m glad we’ve taken this step…I know I was really being a jerk about it.”
“It’s not an easy thing to do,” Hutch replied, trailing his fingers up and down Starsky’s arm.
“It seemed like it was for you,” Starsky objected.
“It wasn’t-- not at first…but I’d been thinking about my changing feelings for a while. You were broadsided when our moms insisted we come out of the closet.”
Starsky shook his head. “I still can’t get over they thought we’d been screwing each other for years.”
“And approved of it!” Hutch added, kissing the top of Starsky’s head where it was pillowed on his chest.
Starsky chuckled. “Yeah. Hutch…”
“Hmm?” Hutch became preoccupied with running his fingers through Starsky’s chest hair.
Starsky was silent a long moment and Hutch stopped stroking. “What is it, buddy?”
“I—I’ve been thinking.”
Hutch waited.
“I-I just don’t know if I want to go back to bein’ a cop.”
Hutch sighed, and Starsky lifted his head to look at him. “Are you mad?”
“Of course I’m not mad!”
“You sound mad.”
“That’s because it made me mad when you accused me of being mad!”
“Oh.”
“Starsk,” Hutch lifted Starsky’s chin with a finger a looked at him with sincere blue eyes. “I only want you to be happy,” he said softly. “And to be honest, being a cop lost its allure for me a long time ago. I just didn’t want to quit being your partner. And to be really honest, I think I saw this coming. You haven’t been talking about reinstatement for a while now.”
Starsky played with the blond hairs beneath Hutch’s navel. “The only reason I’d want to go back is to be with you…but there are other ways to be partners.”
“Starsky, my ass is sore.”
Starsky playfully tugged the hairs beneath his fingers, and Hutch laughed.
“Seriously, we could maybe go into business or something. Let’s think about our options. Okay?” Starsky looked up at him.
Hutch scooted down in the bed and buried his face in Starsky’s neck, kissing it thoroughly. “Okay,” he murmured as he made his way up to his ear and nibbled the lobe, thinking how good it felt to touch his partner intimately.
“Hu-utch…” Starsky was losing his train of thought. “Oh God…”
Hutch made his way back down his neck and kissed Starsky’s shoulder, then the crease between his arm and his chest. Starsky growled low in his throat and yanked Hutch upward by the shoulders and covered his mouth with his own, plundering it with his tongue. Hutch surrendered, rolling onto his back with Starsky on top of him, and wrapping his arms and legs around his lover.
“Oh Christ, Hutch, when you do that…” Starsky breathed.
“Do what?” Hutch asked, his eyes crinkling at the edges.
“You know what…wrap those delicious legs around me like that.” Starsky thrust at him, already partially hard again.
“Oh, yeah? Well maybe I like to set my heels on that gorgeous butt of yours,” he pressed his heels into the mounds in illustration, and Starsky thrust again, letting out an even louder groan.
“Would you two give it a rest, already? It’s time to eat.” Carolyn’s voice came from the hall.
Starsky and Hutch looked at each other, their faces competing for the darkest shade of crimson.
“She really knows how to kill a mood,” Starsky grumbled, rolling off Hutch and onto his back.
“She always has,” Hutch sighed. He got up and pulled on his pants.
Starsky sat up and looked around for his jeans. Hutch found them under his shirt and tossed them over to him.
“I’m starved,” Starsky commented after pulling his sweater over his head. Hutch grabbed a handful of the front of it and pulled him close for a deep kiss.
“Later, my little love demon, I will show you what it’s like to be on the bottom,” Hutch promised, a fiery glint in his eyes.
Starsky’s stomach flip-flopped with nervous anticipation. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.” Hutch kissed him again and then headed downstairs.
“Your little love demon, huh?” Starsky whispered in his ear as they entered the dining room.
“There you are!” Carolyn huffed from her seat at the table. “I thought we’d have to sit here while you went another round.”
“Carolyn!” Barbara objected.
“If you had, the dinner would be pretty cold,” Starsky bragged, and Hutch blushed furiously.
“Don’t you start, Starsky,” he begged.
When the meal was over, Starsky and Joanne cleaned up the kitchen while Barbara, Carolyn, and Hutch went up to the master bedroom.
“I’ve been going through your father’s clothes,” Barbara told her children. “If you want anything Kenneth, or Carolyn…if you think Stan would want anything, now’s the time to take it.”
“Do you think you’re moving a little fast, Mom?” Hutch asked, fingering some of the suits hanging in the closet. Barbara sat down on the bed and crossed her ankles.
“No, son, I don’t. I told you…I’ve had a lot of time to get used to the idea. I miss your father, but he’s gone, and I have to move on with my life. I’d rather take care of this kind of thing with you here. Also, I met with Jim Brooks, our lawyer, before I went to the gym, and it seems that I’ll have plenty of money without the sale of the house. Carolyn? Do you think that you and Stan would like to live here?”
Carolyn blinked, surprised. “Uh…I don’t know, Mom. Let me talk to Stan about it.”
The next few hours were spent clearing out the closet. When Hutch finally sought out Starsky, he was in bed reading.
“Sorry about that,” Hutch said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Once Mom gets going, she won’t stop until it’s done. Tomorrow she wants to start on the study.”
Starsky put his book down. “Was it difficult? Going through your dad’s clothes?”
“A little,” Hutch admitted. “I’m not taking much. Just a couple of hats that have sentimental value. I’d never wear those corporate suits, and we don’t wear the same size shoes. He never wore jeans, and I hate his ties.” Hutch sat looking at his hands a moment. “I think I’m going to take a shower. Looks like you’ve already had yours.” He eyed Starsky’s naked chest at the V of his pajama top, leaned over and sniffed it. “Yep. Soapy.” He nosed his way between the flaps, snuffling at his partner’s chest like an animal.
Starsky pushed him away. “Quit! That tickles. Go wash up and get back in here. Pronto.”
“Yes, sir,” Hutch replied, and headed for the bathroom.
Starsky smiled, glad to have his Hutch back. It seemed that all he’d needed was an outlet for all his pent up emotions. It was unfortunate that the poor dog had to die to trigger it, but perhaps that was meant to be.
Hutch returned in record time and, shedding his towel and crawling under the covers, he burrowed his head down until his face was even with Starsky’s groin. “Thinking about me, hmm?” Hutch asked, seeing his partner was already sporting a partial erection inside his pajama pants. Hutch kissed it, causing Starsky to jerk and gasp. Emboldened, Hutch ran his mouth over the material, outlining the growing cock with his lips. When he got to the head, he sucked on it gently. Starsky bucked. “Oh, God, Hutch!”
Hutch moved his mouth lower and nibbled at Starsky’s thigh through the soft cotton. He was in a cocoon of covers with a luscious feast before him, and he planned to make the most of it. Neither he nor Starsky had done this to one another yet. Although slightly daunted at the thought of putting a man’s cock in his mouth, Hutch was sufficiently turned on by the man that he loved to do it with wholehearted eagerness. Quick as a striking snake, he reached up and yanked the pajama pants down and off Starsky’s legs. He heard another intake of breath from above as he settled himself between his partner’s thighs. Hutch could feel the hairs of Starsky’s calves against his bare skin, and he liked it. It was different than what he was accustomed to, but it was good in its own way. He blew his hot breath on Starsky’s sack and heard a moan from above his head. He could feel Starsky’s stomach muscles tensing under his hand, and he moved it down, sliding both hands up and under to cup the lush buttocks. Without giving any warning, he gently sucked one of Starsky’s balls into his mouth.
“Oh, holy SHIT!” Starsky yelled, the last word muffled behind a hand he clamped over his mouth, and Hutch smiled around his delicate morsel, jostling it with his tongue, making his partner writhe in his hands. He continued to torment the left nut, letting it fall out of his mouth and laving it with his tongue before turning his attention to the right side. He pulled that one in, and Starsky almost sobbed with pleasure.
“Oh, Hutch, shit you’re killing me! Omygod.” Starsky was doing his best to be quiet, but it wasn’t easy.
Hutch kneaded the lush ass in his hands, loving the power he felt as he turned his tough partner into a babbling wreck begging for release. Putting a finger in his mouth, he wet it liberally and then tickled Starsky’s anus with it, finally pushing it in. Starsky rose off the bed, breathing hard. Hutch moved upward and licked at the turgid cock before pulling the soft tip into his mouth and nursing on it. This brought Starsky half-way off the mattress.
Starsky was awash in a sea of sweet sensation. It was the supreme turn-on to feel the wet, warm mouth all over his genitals and know it was his partner doing those things to him. When Hutch lowered his mouth onto Starsky’s prick, he saw stars. Whipping the covers back, he looked down to see that blond head bobbing over him, and he exploded, his eyes rolling back in his head.
“I think I’m dead,” he groaned, and heard Hutch’s soft laughter. “Did you swallow all that?” He then asked, watching as Hutch crawled up to lie down beside him.
“Yep. It was good, too.”
“Liar.”
Hutch laughed. “Okay, but it wasn’t bad, either. Just different. You were licking up mine earlier today with no complaints.”
“True,” Starsky admitted. “It turned me on, eating something that came out of you.” He blushed. “Hutch---that was---spectacular.” He ran his finger down Hutch’s nose, and Hutch latched onto it with his mouth, sucking eagerly. “God, I love you,” Starsky whispered and leaned in for a kiss. Their mouths connected, moving over one another for long moments, stoking the fire.
“I gotta try it now, Hutch. I want that big thing in my mouth.”
Hutch gazed at him from his pillow, his eyes loving every inch of him.
“I was thinking maybe you’d bottom for me,” he said.
Starsky raised a brow. “I’m game. A little scared…but game.”
“It doesn’t hurt that much,” Hutch protested.
“Have you looked at yourself? I mean, I’m big, I guess, but you’re really big!”
Hutch looked down at his fully erect penis. “I think we’re about the same size.”
“Maybe in length, but mine is thinner. You’re going to feel like a boulder going in there.”
Hutch rose up over him. “No, I’m not. I’m gonna make you beg for it, and by that time, you won’t care how big it is. Now roll over.”
With a little trepidation, Starsky turned over onto his stomach.
“That’s it, partner.” Hutch slowly ran his tongue down Starsky’s back, making him shiver. “Now pull your legs up, yeah, like that.” He began to plant kisses all over Starsky’s soft butt cheeks, stopping every now and then to lick at them. Each time, he got closer and closer to his goal, until finally he was licking the crack and then had his tongue on Starsky’s puckered hole.
“Oh!” Starsky shouted as Hutch’s tongue licked and wiggled at his opening, causing bursts of sensation to course up his body. “Oh, shit shit shit!”
Hutch pulled Starsky’s cheeks farther apart and applied his tongue more liberally to his anus, nudging it and rimming it as Starsky humped helplessly at the mattress.
“Oh God, Hutch, shit, you’re killing me!”
Hutch penetrated the hole with his tongue, twirling it inside the opening, and Starsky moaned long and loud. Hutch had to hold down his bucking hips so he could keep his place between Starsky’s cheeks. Moving slightly so he could reach for and yank the lube out from under his pillow, Hutch applied it to his fingers and began by pushing one all the way inside of Starsky, his cock hardening as his partner cried out his name again and again. He pushed in another finger, and Starsky looked over his shoulder, his eyes dark with desire as he watched Hutch finger fuck him up the ass. “Do it, Hutch. I want it –I’m begging for it. Put your big cock in me-- NOW!” Starsky groaned.
Too far gone to gloat that he had indeed made Starsky beg, Hutch immediately raised up and coated his prick with the lubrication. “Up on your knees,” he ordered hoarsely, and Starsky obeyed, displaying his ass wantonly.
Putting one hand on each of his partner’s hips, Hutch brought the tip of his steel-hard rod to Starsky’s opening and began pushing it in as he pulled his partner closer to him. Starsky was moaning in earnest now, his body aflame. It hurt, but it hurt so good.
Once Hutch was fully sheathed inside his lover, he paused to take a deep breath and savor the feeling.
“I’m in you,” he whispered reverently.
“No kidding,” Starsky half-chuckled. “Now what are ya waiting for? Fuck me!”
Hutch groaned and began to pump with long, sure strokes. Starsky moved up and gripped the headboard as his partner proceeded to screw him into oblivion. His big prick was hitting something up inside Starsky that was sending ripples of desire through his limbs, and he cried out loud and long, uncaring if the whole damn neighborhood heard.
“Shh…” Hutch hissed. “Our mothers…”
“Fuck, they wanted us together, let them hear it!” Starsky rasped out, then moaned, pushing his ass back into Hutch. Hutch gasped and pumped harder. Reaching around, he grabbed Starsky’s cock with his greased hand and began to work it. They were on the fast train to oblivion, and Hutch was in control. He drove them harder, faster, until they were over the cliff and free-falling. Despite what he’d said before, Starsky buried his mouth in his arm, muffling his cries of release. Hutch’s hips were still jerking and he was breathing hard, making little sounds of spent pleasure into the skin of Starsky’s back.
They fell to the bed in a tangle of limbs.
***
“Carolyn! I thought you’d be asleep by now,” Barbara Hutchinson said when her daughter entered the den.
“Who can sleep with those two rutting like rams next door?” Carolyn said, sitting on the couch by her mother.
Joanne smiled, shifting in the chair. “They’re on their honeymoon,” she said. “It’s all new and glorious.”
“Yeah. Well.” Carolyn sunk down into the couch and put her head in her mother’s lap. “You really thinking of moving to California, Mom?”
“Yes. Does that bother you?”
“No. But what I have been wondering is what Ken and Dave are going to do. Are they going to continue living apart? Is Dave going back to the police force? Can they be cops and be together?”
Barbara looked to Joanne for answers.
“I honestly don’t know, but I’m sure they’re going to work all of that out,” Joanne said. “In a couple of months, life as we all know it may be very different.”
Carolyn yawned. “Yeah. If Stan, the boys, and I move in here, we’ll have so much room…”
“You think Stan will go for it?” Barbara asked.
“I kind of think so, yeah. And we could keep the horses, Mom.”
“I’d like that, “ Barbara smiled.
“To changes!” Joanne raised her glass of wine.
“Changes!” Barbara echoed, and tipped hers to take a drink.
finis