"The Toast"
Musings from "Sweet Revenge"
The handwritten sign on the front of The Pits' door simply read
"CLOSED FOR PRIVATE PARTY".
Anyone who really knew Huggy would be surprised, for New Year's Eve was
a time of significant business and to close for a private party meant the loss
of substantial income for the bar owner.
Tables were pushed together to form one continuous row,
seating almost two-dozen people. It was
an odd mix of characters, including more than one police officer, and a handful
of those on the 'other side of the fence', but the mood was friendly and
somewhat boisterous. Captain and Edith
Dobey were engaged in close conversation with Diane, Huggy's favorite waitress,
and Minnie from R&I was successfully flirting with one of Huggy's
cousins.
An old TV set balanced on top of the bar with the volume
muted, playing a delayed broadcast of Dick Clark's coverage of Times Square. Colored Christmas lights blinked throughout
the room, adding to the cheerful atmosphere.
Holiday music poured from the jukebox, adding to the noisy din of
several voices talking at once.
As the minute hand on the wall clock passed the
"11", marking the time as just prior to midnight, Huggy stood up from
the table and raised his slender hands to gain the riotous crowd's attention. "Ladies and Gentleman, the New Year is
almost upon us. One of our favorite
fuzzy friends, and one of my best customers, would like to propose a
toast."
Calls of "Here! Here!" and "Speech!"
were called out as Starsky pushed himself up from the table. The detective's movements were slow and
somewhat stiff, his abdominal muscles still in the process of recovery. The brunette had not regained all of his
weight from his prolonged hospital stay, and still had an air of frailness
about him. But considering the 'massive
damage' his body had withstood, his friends were proud of the progress he had
made. It was simply a matter of time
before the detective was back to his old self.
Starsky paused a moment as he stared down into beer glass he
held. Only his partner, seated to his
right, could make out the slight tremor in his hand. Finally Starsky cleared his throat and looked up at the crowd, a
broad grin disguising the dampness that had sprung unbiddened to his eyes.
"I…uh, just wanted to say how glad I am to be here
tonight. Seven months ago we weren't
too sure…well, about anything. And I
realize that each day is somethin' to be thankful for." The unexpected tightening of his throat
caused him to pause a moment. The room around
him was completely silent except for the soft strains of jazz drifting from the
jukebox. With a deep breath the
detective looked at each of the guests and continued. "I can't begin tell you how much you've all meant to me
since the shooting. The cards and
calls, stoppin' by…I…I don't know how we could have made it without all of you…"
Starsky's voice took on an unmistakable huskiness as he
faltered to a stop. He looked down to
where Hutch sat next to him and the blonde could easily read the pleading in
those blue eyes for rescue. Quickly
Hutch stood and placed his hand on his partner's shoulder. The blonde quietly continued. "I think what my partner's trying to say
is 'thank you'. We have another year
ahead of us, and good friends to see us through, no matter what." Hutch raised his glass to the crowd.
"To life."
The crowd at the table raised their glasses in salute, and
echoed the sentiment "to life!"
Glass clinking against glass was quickly drowned out by someone's
excited cry of "they're dropping the ball!" Many eyes turned to the TV set as Dick Clark began the final countdown. As "Happy New Year" flashed at the
bottom of the screen, the crowd at The Pits began to sing "Auld Lang
Syne".
Hutch noticed the tears brimming in his partner's eyes in
joyous balance to the infamous Starsky grin. "Happy New Year,
Buddy." The blonde tapped his
glass against the smaller man's.
"To life."
"To life."
~Brit
12/31/00