DISCLAIMER: I do not own any part of Starsky and Hutch franchise. The following is only for entertainment.
FYI: This is the last part of a group of stories which started with The Sweetest Reward, followed by Anticipating Sweet Rewards.
Thanks for reading.
Becky
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
This was the moment Starsky had anticipated for three long months. He was finally home. Hutch had told him about the little house on the quiet street that he had helped Rachel find. Starsky still worried that she had spent more than she should have, but he saw what had attracted her to the house. He peered out the car window at his new home.
Starsky had a quick look at the neatly packaged ranch home. At first glance the house seemed small. It was shaded by large, leafy trees in the front. The flower bed that lined the sidewalk sprouted a rainbow of colors. The house itself was a dark brick with white trim.
On further inspection, most of the living area was at the back of the house and was secluded by the shrubs that lined the perimeter.
They no sooner pulled up in front of the house, than Rachel began handing out orders to her brood of borrowed children.
That's exactly how she had come to think of Ken and Gretchen. Rachel always made friends easily, just as her son did. But Rachel had met David's friends and co-workers over the years and had come to think of them all as extended members of her family. She was increasingly grateful for the people involved in her son's life.
In her quiet, introspective moments, Rachel still felt guilty for sending David to live with Rose and Al when David was just a teenager. After all these years, Rachel worried that David didn't feel loved, particularly by her.
David's laughter pushed the old worries out of her head. She smiled as the friendly banter between the younger people continued. She relished the joyful noises of her son's homecoming.
"Gretchen, here's the key. Go open the door. David can't get chilled and shouldn't be outside for long. Hutch- give me that bag-- be careful boys,-- David here's your cane." Rachel clucked over her son as he made his way up the sidewalk and into the house.
Starsky should have expected his mother to fly around him like a moth. She followed everyone inside and then as she reached the couch, she fluffed up the pillows as an invitation for Starsky to stretch out on the familiar blue couch.
Starsky took in his surroundings. He was relieved to have his own comfortable things around him. After 3 months of hospital drab, the colors that greeted him now made him dizzy. There was so much clamoring for his attention, that he couldn't immediately focus on all of it. Instead he concentrated on what was in front of him.
The living room was bright and cheerful. One wall was made up of floor to ceiling windows. The afternoon sun filtered in through the gauzy curtains, letting just enough sun in to warm the area.
The kitchen was separated from the living room by a breakfast bar. From Starsky's vantage point, he could see the large sliding glass door on the other side of the kitchen. The floor was made up of neurtral shades of tile which blended with the pale yellow wallpaper on the kitchen walls.
The smaller wing of the house spiked off of the kitchen. It contained a bedroom and bathroom. From the outside, the house was deceiving in respect to how much the house spread out inside. But inside, the rooms were open and bright. The other wing branched off of the entrance and Rachel had figured this should be Starsky's part of the house.
He was very glad to be home, but he was also shaky and dizzy. He didn't even have the energy to explore his new surroundings.
Hutch and Gretchen brought everything in from the car and deposited the suitcases in Starsky's bedroom.
"David, you want to go lay down in your room?", Gretchen asked.
Starsky plopped down on the couch and patted the cushion next to him.
"Come sit with me. I don't have the energy for nothin' but lookin' at you.!" Starsky's tired smile spread into his eyes as he yawned and kissed Gretchen on the cheek.
Hutch followed Rachel into the kitchen and poked his nose into the pot on the stove.
"Rachel, you must have gotten up with the birds this morning to make this. Smells and looks wonderful. Starsk!--- you hungry or do you want to lay down?" Hutch called from the kitchen but got no answer. "Starsky?--, Hutch said as he walked back into the living room.
By the time Hutch came back to the living room, Starsky was stretched out on the couch and already curling into the afghan Gretchen had spread over him.
Gretchen motioned with her hand toward the quiet, dark haired man and smiled at Hutch.
Gretchen sat beside Starsky and rubbed his temples as he let out a grateful mumble.
"I'm all of the sudden done in. Gretchen, that feels (yawn) so good and I'm just---(yawn) really sleepy."
Now he could smell something very tempting coming from the kitchen. But his eyes were really heavy and he just couldn't keep them open any longer. The pain pill he took before he'd left the hospital kicked in and now he had his first nap in his new home.
Sometime later, his nose twitched as a wonderful aroma reached him. He cracked an eye open to see his mother standing over him with a bowl of some sort of steaming, fragrant contents that reached his nose and made his stomach grumble.
"David dear, you fell asleep so fast, you didn't even eat. Here, sit up now and enjoy the stew I made." Rachel pulled up a tray table and set it beside the couch.
"Ma, this place is amazing! At least the living room is." Starsky hungrily attacked the stew in the bowl. He ripped off a piece of the still warm bread and dipped it into the mix.
"Where's Hutch and Gretchen?" Starsky paused long enough to ask with a full mouth.
"Gretchen had to go to work. She said she'd call in the morning. Hutch went to the grocery store." Rachel sat in the chair opposite her son. She was very glad that he was eating with such enjoyment.
"Terrific! He's probably gathering all the ingrediants to make his god awful protein shakes. Dr. Brooks gave Hutch all the encouragement he needed to make me eat all kinds of healthy crap." Starsky continued chewing on his piece of bread as he shook his head in amazement.
"Hutch just wants to make sure you keep healthy while you wait for your surgery. You need to build up your immune system and gain some weight.", Rachel reasoned.
"I know, the Blintz means well. I just like to pull his chain about his health stuff. I'm anxious for the surgery and I don't want to get a cold or bug that would delay it. Just think, Ma--- Dr. West is gonna repair my arm!" Starsky stopped chewing and flashed his mother a wide, happy grin.
Starsky took another bite of stew but the happiness faded from his eyes and was replaced with an apologetic, slightly green tinged, expression on his face.
"Oh, man, sorry Ma. I can't eat anymore. I was so hungry and this smelled so good, but---." Starsky rubbed his belly and closed his eyes against the pain that was creeping into his stomach.
He took a deep breath and settled back against the cushions.
Rachel went over to sit next to her son. She picked up his hand and planted a small kiss there.
"Honey, I think you've had enough excitement for your first day home. When Hutch comes back, he can help you get settled in bed." Rachel spoke quietly.
Starsky didn't argue. He continued rubbing his belly and steadied his breathing. At least the nausea settled down. He would feel really guilty if he couldn't keep the meal down that his mother had prepared for him.
A few minutes later, Hutch pulled into the driveway and brought the few bags of groceries into the kitchen.
Rachel followed him into the kitchen, providing a worried account about Starsky.
"It's okay, Rachel. He just can't eat like he used to and I think sometimes he forgets that. He'll be fine but he probably should go to bed." Hutch comforted the older woman with a hug and a kiss to her cheek.
"C'mon Gordo, ya wanna check out your bedroom?" Hutch offered as he walked back to the living room.
"What a way to entertain on my first night home!", Starsky mumbled as he slowly stood up.
He hated to, but he reached over to Hutch for support as the two men walked to the back of the house.
Starsky's bedroom was very masculine and comfortable. The room was bathed in the last hazy shadows of the day, outlining a fair sized open area. There was an overstuffed chair in one corner. Beside the chair, a sliding glass door opened up onto a patio area leading to the back yard. Along the other wall was a desk and chest of drawers.
The bed was along the shortest wall and the bathroom opened up on the other side of the bed. It was decorated with a blue and white shower curtain and towels.
Starsky yawned as he looked around him. He slumped down on the bed with a tired groan.
"Hutch, I didn't want Ma to know,but I'm really hurtin'. I ate too much, too fast and now my gut's on fire." Starsky sat on the bed clutching his stomach and taking in great gulps of air.
Hutch sat beside Starsky and rubbed his back in slow, even circles.
"Just slow your breathing. You didn't fool your mother any. She knew you ate too fast. So just forget the guilt and try to let your stomach relax."
Hutch continued with the small, firm circles on Starsky's back. This trick had worked in the hospital when Starsky had over done eating or even with a particularly hard day of therapy.
Starsky let out a slow breath but turned an ashen expression to Hutch.
Without another word, Hutch reached for the metal wastebasket sitting beside the bathroom door. In the rush to get Starsky's bedroom set up this small detail had been forgotten about.
Starsky leaned over and deposited his contents in the can. He moaned and spit again. Finally he sat up straighter but kept his eyes closed against the sour taste in his mouth.
Hutch got up to get a damp, cool washcloth from the bathroom. He came back and guided Starsky down on the mattress. He laid the cloth on Starsky's sweaty forehead and sat again beside his restless friend.
"Oh this really sucks!",Starsky moaned from under the washcloth.
"Buddy, you just relax. How's your stomach feel now?" Hutch asked.
"Empty." Starsky snickered.
"Cute!"--- Trying to think of something to take Starsky's mind off his pain, Hutch decided to ask Starsky what he thought of the house.
"So, what do you think? Is the house okay? Your mom really liked it when she first saw it and I have to agree." Hutch pulled up the washcloth from Starsky's face and went to the bathroom to wring it out again.
"It's great. Really open and roomy." Starsky's voice was scratchy from the acid his stomach brought up and he was really thirsty.
Hutch brought the washcloth back but before he set it across the dark brows, he handed Starsky a glass of water.
Starsky partially sat up and traded glances with Hutch. Starsky took the glass and greedily gulped down the water. He winced as the coldness reached his stomach but was satisfied that it would not make a return visit.
Starsky yawned and licked his lips.
"I think I'm good now. You don't have to stay. I'm done makin' a mess and now I'm just exhausted." Starsky yawned again and closed his eyes. They flicked open again as he felt Hutch's worried blue eyes staring at him.
"I'm okay, honest. I just hate not being able to enjoy a simple meal. Tomorrow will be better, blondie. I can't wait to have this surgery. It's the only thing I have to look forward to. We'll be back out on the streets in no time partner!"
Starsky's voice was weak but his eyes were filled with determination.
Starsky yawned again and his eyes fluttered shut. This time the lashes remained feathered against the slightly pale cheeks. Soon, Starsky's breathing evened out and the pain lines dissappeared from his face.
Hutch sat beside his friend for awhile. He wanted to make sure Starsky would remain asleep and not have a nightmare or other uncomfortable problem.
Hutch stood up and removed the dry washcloth from Starsky's forehead. He wiped a stray curl away from the closed eyes. He moved toward the door but hesitated. He glanced back at the sleeping, dark haired man. He hoped that the impending surgery would have the desired results that Starsky was counting on. He sighed and closed the door behind him.