English is back,” she said. Ed fisted sleep from his eyes and sat up. “You can’t be fucking serious.” “Oh, yeah. Serious as a heart attack. Number 9 is on its way.” “When?” he said, yawning. “Hour, maybe. She said she’s looking forward to seeing you again.” He didn’t doubt it. Mrs. English was one of those rare women who enjoyed being pregnant so much that she just kept doing it. And now she was back again, ready to pop out the 9th brat in about as many years. “Jesus Christ,” Ed said. “Yeah, well, I just wanted to give you a heads up. You probably have plenty of time to hit the cafeteria and get a cup of Joe, if you want.” He snorted. “If I want? Sandy you know me better than that. I live on caffeine.” “I was being facetious.” Laughing, he said, “You know, I don’t think my wife even knows that word.” He instantly felt a pang of guilt for saying it, implying that Ash was none too bright. Sandy gave him a sad chuckle and walked out of the room, probably to check on Mrs.
