CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The next morning, Starsky woke up with a crick in his neck and a nagging headache. Three aspirins did little to ease the insistent pain that seemed to be centered in the back of his skull. The residual pain made him irritable and cranky most of the day. By the time he got home that evening, the dull ache had grown into a full blown migraine.

Gulping down some of his prescription medication, he walked into the bedroom and pulled the blinds to darken the room. Then he lay down on the bed and waited for the pills to take effect. He was almost asleep when the ringing of the telephone on the nightstand disturbed his rest and made his head explode with renewed agony.

"Yeah?" He answered the phone with a menacing growl.

"Is this David Starsky?" an unfamiliar feminine voice said in his ear.

"Yeah, who is this?" he demanded, desperate to end the call as soon as possible so he could unplug the phone until he got rid of his headache.

"This is Marcy Taylor. I'm the social worker at Good Samaritan Hospital. I'm calling because you need to come in tomorrow and sign the papers to release the baby for adoption."

"What?" Starsky asked in a confused voice, more alert now and still confused. The woman's words made no sense. "What papers?"

"The adoption papers so we can release your daughter for adoption. Your wife signed them before she checked out this afternoon and said that you'd be in tomorrow to sign them. I just need to know what time I can expect you."

"I…uh…" Starsky stammered, not sure what to say. He assumed that Jessica must have put his name on the baby's birth certificate as the father instead of Nicky. This was a complication he wasn't able to deal with rationally right now. Not without some sleep.

"Mr. Starsky," the woman from the hospital continued, "Without your signature, too, forfeiting your paternal rights to the child, we can't release her for adoption. So, unless you claim your daughter or sign the papers within the next twenty-four hours, we'll have no choice but to declare her an abandoned child and turn her over to the proper authorities."

"I need to call my lawyer," Starsky said. "Then I'll get back to you."

"Are you saying that you're having second thoughts about giving up the baby?" The social worker demanded.

"Look, lady…I'll call you tomorrow. Okay?" he said rudely, anxious to get her off the line. He hung up the phone, then immediately picked it up again and called Hutch. When the blond answered Starsky blurted out, "Hutch, I got a big problem. Can you come over right away?"

"I'm on my way," Hutch said without a second thought. If Starsky needed him, he would be there.

Hanging up again, Starsky forced himself out of bed, trying desperately to ignore the insistent pounding in his head. He walked into the living room and turned the lights on dim. Hutch arrived within twenty minutes, letting himself in with his key. One look at his partner's ashen face and he said, "You've got a migraine, don't you?"

"Yeah…but that's not why I called you," Starsky said, speaking softly in deference to the pain in his head. "I got a call from some social worker at the hospital. Jessica checked out this afternoon and she signed the adoption papers before she left."

"So? What's the problem?"

"I'm supposed to sign them, too. She must have listed me as the father on the birth certificate instead of Nicky."

"What are you gonna do? Even if you sign the papers, it wouldn't be legal. You're not the biological father."

"According to the birth certificate, I am. I'm going to call my lawyer in the morning to see what he thinks I should do." He looked at his partner and said, "Hutch, I could keep her and nobody would know the difference. Nobody knows the truth but you, me, Nicky and Jessica. And Ma…I called her last night."

"And your attorney," Hutch pointed out somberly.

"He doesn't know everything…not about Nicky anyway. I didn't have time to call him about that yet."

"Starsky, think about what you're suggesting," Hutch argued gently. "If Nicky ever found out what you did…and I have no doubt that he would eventually…he'd be sure to find a way to use it against you. Are you willing to take that kind of risk?"

"I don't know," Starsky admitted. "I just keep thinking that that baby didn't ask to be born, and she hasn't got anybody who cares about her now but me."

"Right now, I think you need to get some sleep. We can talk about this more in the morning. You're not exactly thinking straight right now. Did you take your medicine?"

Starsky nodded, swaying slightly, as Hutch carefully helped him to his feet and back into the bedroom. After making sure that the brunet was comfortable and on the verge of dozing off, Hutch unplugged the bedroom phone and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

The big blond sat down on the sofa, lost in thought. Whatever Starsky decided Hutch would stand beside him and give him all the emotional support he needed. He just hoped the brunet made the right decision, not only for himself, but for everyone else involved.