THE MAN HE USED TO BE
CHAPTER 21
Starsky waited impatiently for the nurse to come in with his discharge papers. After eighty-six days in the hospital, he was finally going home. There had been times when he had thought this day would never come. He was still in pain most of the time, his mobility still severely limited, but he was alive and he was getting out of this prison without bars.
Hutch stood at his side, smiling at his partner's impatience. He was almost as anxious as Starsky was to get out of here. He had a few surprises in store for Starsky and, at least one of them, should lift his spirits.
Finally, the nurse came in with the discharge papers. Hutch signed them for Starsky and took the handles of the wheelchair to push him downstairs to the exit. Following hospital policy, a nurse walked along side them, pushing a cart with Starsky's personal belongings on it. He had left behind the flowers and plants he had been given with instructions to distribute them to other patients.
The nurse waited at the curb with Starsky while Hutch went to get the car. Starsky's eyes lit up in surprised delight when the fully restored Torino pulled up in front of him. Hutch climbed out from behind the wheel with a huge grin.
"You said my car was totaled!" Starsky said as Hutch came around to the opposite side to help him into the front seat.
"According to the insurance company it was," Hutch told him "But I couldn't let 'em just haul the tomato off to the junkyard."
"She looks terrific!" Starsky exclaimed as he settled into the black leather seat. He reached out and ran his right hand across the dashboard with a loving touch. He felt the tears gathering in his eyes at the gift that Hutch had given him.
Hutch folded the wheelchair and put it into the trunk along with the various items Starsky had accumulated over his long stay in the hospital. Safety tucked away in Hutch's shirt pocket was a list of discharge instructions and prescriptions for the numerous medications Starsky still had to take. He also had a separate list of scheduled appointments with Starsky's doctors and physical therapists for his out patient care.
As he slid behind the wheel, Hutch looked at Starsky with a huge grin. "You ready to go home, partner?"
"Yeah," Starsky said with an answering smile. He shifted positions to get more comfortable. It didn't take much for his battered body to remind him that he still wasn't up to par.
As Hutch pulled out of the drive and turned east, Starsky winced as every bump in the road jostled his recovering body. He ignored the discomfort as his gaze hungrily surveyed his familiar surroundings. He frowned when he realized that Hutch had turned in the opposite direction from either one of their apartments.
"Where are we going, Blintz?" he asked curiously.
"You'll see." Hutch said with a mysterious smile as he continued to drive. He drove to a secluded stretch of beach, still within the city limits, but fairly isolated from the more populated areas. Starsky frowned in confusion when Hutch pulled up in front of a one story beach house with a wide deck running along the front.
"What's going on, Blondie?" Starsky asked in a puzzled voice, as Hutch slipped out of the car.
Hutch got the wheelchair out of the trunk and unfolded it. Setting the brakes securely, he opened the door and helped Starsky out of the car. "This is where we're going to be staying until you're better." Hutch told him. "Doctor Riley said you couldn't handle steps yet so that left out both of our apartments."
"We're going to be staying here?" Starsky asked in a surprised voice, looking around at the peaceful, quiet surroundings. "How'd you find this place?"
"Actually…it belongs to me." Hutch said sheepishly.
"What do you mean it belongs to you?"
"My parents had it built for me and Van when we moved to Bay City but Van refused to live here. She said it was too far from the city to suit her." Hutch explained.
"Why didn't you ever tell me about this place?" Starsky questioned, as Hutch pushed the wheelchair towards the ramp that led to the deck.
"It just didn't seem that important. I was going to sell it but I just never got around to it. Now, I'm glad I didn't."
"What about your place? What about my place?"
"I sublet them both to a couple of guys from work. They know it's just temporary until you're recovered."
"You thought of everything, didn't ya, Blondie?" Starsky said with a smile.
"I tried." Hutch said offhandedly; as he reached out and slid open the glass doors, pushing Starsky into the house with a flourish. The interior was cool and well lit by the sunlight streaming in through the windows.
The main room of the house was a combination living area and kitchen, divided by a breakfast bar. Hardwood floors matched the paneling on the walls and there were large exposed beams in the ceiling overhead. Even to Starsky's untrained eye, it was obvious that no expense had been sparred in designing and building the house.
Starsky let out a low whistle. "Man, this is something else." he said in an awed voice. Setting the brakes, he slowly eased himself out of the chair. Waving off Hutch's helping hand, Starsky took a few faltering steps to the black leather sofa and settled down on the plush cushions. With a sigh, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
He heard Hutch rummaging around in the kitchen and the sound of water running. Starsky opened his eyes when Hutch presented him with a glass of water and two blue pills. "Ahhh, Hutch…" he whined. "I don't wanna take no pain pills. They make me too groggy."
"You've had a full morning already." Hutch scolded him, operating in full mother hen mode. "You need something before the pain gets too bad."
"Yes, mother…" Starsky grumbled as he took the pills and washed them down with a long swallow of water. He handed the glass back to Hutch with a glare. "You gonna make me take a nap now?"
"Not unless you want one."
"Prick." Starsky muttered under his breath as Hutch carried the glass back into the kitchen.
"I heard that." Hutch called back over his shoulder.
"Good." Starsky called back, adding under his breath, "Asshole."
Hutch heard the additional comment but chose to ignore it. He was just happy to have Starsky out of the hospital at last. The familiar bantering between them was a sure sign that Starsky was finally on the mend. When he returned to the living room, he wasn't surprised to find that Starsky had dozed off, curled up on the sofa like a little kid worn out from a hard day at play. Grabbing an afghan from the back of the couch, he spread it over his friend and then went back into the kitchen.
He had already stocked the cabinets and refrigerator with all the basics. There were a lot of foods that Starsky still couldn't eat and others that he could eat but only in moderation. Fixing meals that he could keep down was going to be a challenge. He still got nauseated and vomited easily, both from the medications he was still taking and his slowly healing digestive system.
Hutch opened a bag sitting on the bar and took out the bottles of pills, carefully checking each label, as he sat them on the kitchen counter. Starsky was still on morphine for the pain, stool softeners, antibiotics for a lingering respiratory infection, Reglan to aid with his digestive problems, Compazine to help with the nausea , Gas-X to help control the frequent painful gas from his intestinal surgery, Valium to help him sleep at night, and Prozac for his lingering depression. Most of the meds he took every four hours, except for the Valium which he only took at bedtime. Jesus, buddy, all these meds…no wonder you're still out of it so much.
Finishing his tasks in the kitchen, Hutch walked through the living room and down a short hall that led to the two bedrooms in the house. He entered the bedroom that he had set up for his injured friend. Hutch had moved Starsky's own bed into the room, along with all of his personal belongings. He turned back the light blue comforter and plumped up the pillows.
Hutch's bedroom was directly across the hall but he expected to spend most of his time in Starsky's bedroom for a while. There was a cot sat up on the far side of the bed for that purpose. Rachel was returning in a few days for an extended stay now that Starsky was out of the hospital and she would be using Hutch's room.
Hutch let Starsky sleep while he prepared a light lunch. I think I'll heat up that creamed chicken Huggy dropped off. That should be easy on Starsky's stomach. Hutch smiled to himself as he pulled the covered bowl out of the refrigerator and poured it into a pan. And some of Edith's chocolate chip cookies. Starsky loves her cookies. Before long, the aroma of the food aroused Starsky from his slumber.
"Smells good." Starsky volunteered, as he slowly pushed himself upright on the sofa. He paused to wait out a dizzy spell from sitting up too quickly.
"Stay put. I'll bring it in there." Hutch told him, picking up two plates and carrying them into the living room. He sat the plates on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen for two glasses of lemonade.
Hutch watched, pleased as Starsky ate most of the food on his plate without any additional coaxing. Starsky was still almost twenty pounds under his normal weight and Hutch was determined to see that he regained it as quickly as possible. We need to fatten you back up, buddy. I don't think that'll be too hard between me, Huggy, Edith and your mom all cooking for you.
"Would you like some more?" Hutch asked when Starsky had finished. He wasn't able to eat as much as he did before the shooting so Hutch always offered him seconds.
Starsky shook his head with a rueful smile. "Naw, let's make sure this stays down first."
"You wanna watch some TV?"
"No, I've had enough TV for a while. Can we just sit outside for a little bit?" At the hospital, Starsky had often had an aide or Hutch take him down to the courtyard so he could sit in the sun.
"You sure you feel up to it?"
"Hutch, I told ya…I'm not gonna break. Give me some room to breathe, will ya?" Starsky chided him.
"Sorry," Hutch said, smiling self consciously. He had been protective towards Starsky even before the shooting but he was even more so now than ever. He reminded himself that he needed to back off so Starsky could start to regain some of his confidence and his independence. But it was hard. He had come too close to losing the most important person in his life and he had sworn that he would never take that friendship for granted again.
Hutch carefully helped Starsky to his feet. Ignoring the wheelchair, Starsky started toward the deck. Hutch kept one arm wrapped firmly around him for added support. Although Starsky could walk short distances without assistance, he sometimes stumbled and lost his balance. Hutch wasn't taking any chances. A bad fall could set back his recovery for weeks.
The two friends sat down at the picnic table sitting at the far end of the deck. Starsky was subdued and quiet as they sat there listening to the muted sounds of the ocean and the gulls flying overhead. It was the perfect location to give Starsky the peace and the solitude he needed to continue his recovery.