Where the Streets Have No Name
Chapter 67
Dinner passed amicably enough. Carmen filled the air between them with lively chatter like she used to when they first met. She was her old self again it seemed.
His skeptical side warned him against getting his hopes too high too fast, but Edward couldn't help but start wondering that perhaps what he was witnessing was in fact the light at the end of the tunnel. That perhaps Carmen was indeed getting better, or at least had started taking the first steps toward healing and well-being.
She was talking about going back to school and finishing her program, and how important it was that she started networking again so she could be in the loop.
"You know what a cut throat business it is," Carmen said as she made a motion of severing her carotid artery in a theatrical gesture in reference to broadcast journalism. "I've already fallen behind the race, but I think I can make up for the lost time if I got back on the game now.
"Did you know, Kate will be interning for ABC this summer? Can you believe it? My credentials are way better than hers! I mean, I love her and all, and I'm totally happy for her, but she wouldn't have made the cut if I were in the running for the spot."
Edward nodded and "A-ha"-d in appropriate places, agreeing and encouraging her along. His wife was truly being herself for the first time in nearly a year. He didn't want to jeopardize his good luck by saying the wrong thing.
"Not that I care. I don't want to waste a summer slave laboring for ABC. CNN or NBC maybe. But no matter what I do, I'm not ending my career as the perky weather girl at a local cable channel..."
Carmen carried on an enthralled monologue with Edward as her loyal audience.
As dinner came to a conclusion, Carmen suggested that they open a bottle of wine and take it to the living room to enjoy the remainder of their evening.
"I'll get it," Edward volunteered. "You go ahead and relax. Pick out a movie, why don't you?"
He deposited the used plates and dishes into the sink and pulled out two wine glasses from the kitchen cupboard. He then reached inside the fridge to retrieve the bottle of wine when an errant thought struck his mind.
He had been home for a little over an hour and all this time Ella hadn't cried even once. As records go, It certainly was her personal best.
Edward pondered the chances of both the girls in his life deciding to give him a break precisely at the same time.
It wasn't impossible but it didn't seem very probable either.
Crunching his brow, he looked at the baby monitor sitting over the fridge. It was still quiet.
Too quiet.
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