1 - HERE COMES THE BRIDE
It was Hutch's and Becca's wedding day.
The plan had been to go at it casually and uncomplicatedly.
It turned into a combo of League of Nations and Treaty of Versailles, until stronger minds prevailed.
Hutch, for all of his come-what-may-ness, had had several demands, and he was sticking with them.
One: the ceremony and reception were going to be at his favorite place on the beach.
Two: one year old Kenny Starsky was going to be the ring bearer. This, by the way, was agreed upon unanimously.
Three: whatever his gorgeous little kitten Becca chose to wear on the outside, she was going to be wearing black satin tap panties underneath. Even if they showed through a white dress.
Becca's requirements were simple.
One: she didn't give a damn about what Hutch wore. Short of nakedness. He could wear his teeny blue shorts or his teeny white shorts or a muumuu or whatever his blonde heart desired. Just as long as he showed up.
Two: she wanted some little bit of Jewishness in the ceremony.
Part of this was for her mother, Beatrice Kaplan, who gazed transfixed at her stunning son-in-law-to-be as if he was a Martian. A blonde-headed, sky blue eyed Martian. The girls in her mah jong group would collectively thud to the floor when they saw the wedding pictures.
The other part of the desire for Jewishness was for a reason that Becca couldn't put into words - just…because.
Both Hutch and Becca agreed without saying that Starsky was going to be the best man ('Well, I AM,' was Starsky's comment) and Sivvy the matron of honor.
There was a chuppah (ceremonial covering) erected over the heads of the bride and groom.
"That's quite an erection," said the irrepressible Starsky.
It was constructed of four very tall tent poles holding up a huge beach towel. Starsky had campaigned strongly for Goofy and Pluto to be featured on the towel. Again, sterner minds prevailed.
The poles were shoved into the sand and bolstered by cases of beer and champagne, and ice chests filled with important stuff like root beer and vodka coolers.
Hutch was nagging Starsky about the rings.
"Gordo, Kenny will be in a little wheelie cart rolling down the path in front of Becca. But I'm nervous about him holding the rings and dropping them in the sand. So I'm giving them to you to hold, although to tell you the truth I'm just as nervous about YOU dropping them in the sand."
Starsky put on his most innocent face. "Moi? Would I do that?"
"In a heartbeat," replied Hutch. Starsky received the Hutchinson Finger and a "Don't do it."
The general dress code was casual. Not too many guests, just their special friends and loved ones. Edith, Dobey, Rosie and Cal. Huggy and the waitresses from the Pits (Huggy actually closed the bar for that one evening). Minnie. A bunch of officers from the precinct.
A couple of passers-by who were strolling down the public beach and decided that the event would be an excellent thing to crash.
Hutch's parents were conspicuously absent. They had sent their love from Duluth and a sizable check. Hutch shrugged his shoulders about the money and said, "We'll find some use for that." Then he added, "More than we'd find a use for my parents."
"Me-OW," was Becca's response.
Kenny Starsky, who was just turning a year old, almost stole the show. Sivvy had found a black baby Speedo for him (prudently large enough to hold a diaper), and a little tee shirt with a tuxedo on its front. In lieu of the rings he was toting a bottle of juice with which to clunk his Uncle Huck when he reached the canopy.
Uncle Huck. This nickname-for-all-time had come about a few months previously after Hutch had held Kenny over his shoulder and vigorously burped him. What came out of Kenny's mouth was a startling combination of hiccup and belch in an explosive 'huck' that almost rattled the windows.
Starsky was enormously proud. "Usually it takes me two or three beers to produce one like that," he bragged.
"That was NOT one of your disgusting noises," humphed Hutch. "Kenny was trying to say my name." He had that belligerent 'don't argue with me about this one, buster' look on his face.
And thus Uncle Huck came into the jargon.
Becca's dress had been a secret, even from Sivvy. In the end Becca wore an ivory colored regency-romance type of dress and carried a bunch of iris, her favorite flower. The bodice cupped her breasts and the body of the short gown flowed loosely, not clinging to any part of her body southward of the bustline.
Huggy bowed to her, sweeping off his turquoise cowboy hat.
"Prithee, fair lady," he crooned. "Mayest this knight escort you to the joust?"
"Huggy, did you just call me a prickly old lady?" said Becca. "On my wedding day? I'm gonna tell yon Sir Hutch to run a rapier through you."
Sivvy eyeballed Becca very suspiciously. Up and down.
"I like the breast action with the bodice," she muttered to Becca. "But is it my imagination or are your titties a little inflated? Ain't they a bit bigger than usual?"
"You sound like your husband talking," retorted Becca.
"My husband better not be making any comments about your breasts, Becca. I'm not into any comparisons. If I had my way he wouldn't even notice yours exist."
Sivvy looked again, appraisingly.
"But - If I didn't believe that you share every confidence with me, dear friend, I'd be asking some very pointed questions about why you've picked such a loose hanging dress."
"Quiet. Now is neither the place nor the time for this discussion," Becca muttered back.
Sivvy's eyebrows rose dramatically. "Holy moly."
And to the strains of the Young Rascals' 'Good Lovin'', Hutch and Becca became husband and wife.
End