Mother Puncher by Gina Ranalli Read Free Book Online

pink on the eastern horizon and Ed just didn’t feel like going home. It was Saturday and Ash would be there and he was in no mood for one of her hangover bitch-fests.
    He found an empty examining room on the first floor of the hospital, in the walk-in clinic, and curled up and went to sleep. He never even took off his shoes.

 
    10
     
         It was Sandy who shook him awake a few hours later.
    “Mrs. 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 9 th 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. English’s progress.
    Ed sat there, still as stone for another few minutes before finding the strength to pull himself up and drag his ass down to the cafeteria.
    He grunted good mornings at the staff, got his free cup of sludge and took it to a table near the windows that looked out on the parking lot. Nothing too exciting to see out there at the moment, and he thought about going out to get a newspaper, but in the end, he just sat sipping the foul coffee and gazing off into space.
    Draining the last of the cup, he rose to throw it away when a couple of young guys approached him. They appeared to be in their mid-twenties, both scruffy-faced with greasy hair and clothes and dirt beneath their fingernails. Ed immediately took them for auto mechanics.
    “Aren’t you Ed Means?” the taller one asked.
    “Who wants to know?”
    The tall one slapped the short one’s shoulder. “Dude, I told you it was him.”
    Shorty regarded Ed evenly, looking him up and down. “You looked bigger on TV.”
    “Yeah, TV will do that to you,” Ed said, pushing past them.
    “Hey! That’s no way to be!”
    Ed faced them again. He was still just waking up and not really in the mood to play “famous guy” this morning.
    “Dude, you fucking sucked,” the tall one said suddenly. “That time you K.O.’d Big Tommy Worthen? Yeah, he gave that to you. They paid him to go down. What do you think about that, Champ?”
    Ed shrugged. “It’s history, either way.”
    Laughing, Shorty said, “Mark, remember the time the Champ here got his ass handed to him by Bulldog Travis? Shit, that was some must see TV !”
    Turning away once again, Ed said over his shoulder, “You boys have a good day now.” He walked towards the trash bins and tossed away his paper cup. He could feel everyone’s eyes burning into his back but he didn’t care. He was beginning to wish he’d gone home last night after all. Then he’d be sitting at his own table, drinking his own coffee and not having to deal with loser rednecks like those two clowns.
    He’d just stepped out of the cafeteria and into the hall when someone jumped him from behind, landing on his back, causing him to stumble forward.
    “Fuck,” he muttered, more annoyed than surprised.
    “Let’s see how tough you are now, Champ ,” the tall one snarled into his right