Her fourth cup?!  By the gods, how long has she been up? Paul wondered.  After pouring his own cup of java, he headed straight for the cupboard where all the hard liquor was kept.  Retrieving the Woodford Reserve bottle, he poured himself a shot, and then downed it with no hesitation.  As far as he was concerned, it was never too early for a shot of whiskey, especially with four pregnancy tests laying on the dining table.<br/><br/>So lemme get this straight, Paul thought.  Charlette’s on her fourth cup of coffee and she purchased four home pregnancy testing kits.  What was up with the weird numerology?<br/><br/><i>Maybe she’s preggers with quadruplets, Old Man.  Bahahahaha. . . .</i><br/><br/>Man, there was absolutely<i>nothing</i>funny about that assessment, he worryingly mused.  Feeling the heat from the Kentucky whiskey, Paul sat next to her, while eyeing the kits.  Soon after, his gaze fell upon her. Something else fell upon her soon after that. His free hand in hers.