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Albert Edison, thirty-nine, quickly and quietly enters from the front door of his home in the early hours of April 18th, 1973. With the jacket of his three-piece suit slung over his shoulder and a small briefcase in his left hand, he closes the front door softly. The house itself isn't much, barely big enough for the family of three, but with Albert's work something he doesn't bring home, they don't need a lot of space. The light in the kitchen is on, as well as the one down the hall, painting everything in a yellow glow. At two in the morning, it is odd for the Edison house to have lights on.
"Elsa?" he calls out in the small suburban house, his German accent quite prominent. When he doesn't hear anything for a moment, he says louder, "Liebling?"
Albert frowns to himself, setting down his things on the kitchen table. He runs a hand through his messy, thick blond hair. He really should get it cut, but there were more pressing things on his mind. He glances at his wrist watch, which says the time: 2:13. A little more urgently Albert calls his wife's name again.
"Albert?"
Sighing with relief, Albert exits the tiny kitchen to see Elsa walking down the narrow hallway. She's wearing a blue silk nightgown, her usually neat and curled dark hair deceived from lack of sleep. Albert reaches her, pulling her into a long kiss. All previous worry disappears from his thoughts as he holds his wife in his arms.
Elsa pulls back, placing a hand on his chest. She fiddles with his tie. Although she's happy to see her husband, she's tired. Elsa huffs out a hot breath. "She woke up again."
"That's normal, darling." Albert places his hands gently on Elsa's shoulders, watching as she closes her eyes wearily. The small Polish woman hangs her head. Albert gives her a tight smile. "Is she still awake?"
Elsa nods. "I finally got her to stop crying. She wasn't hungry or—or needed to be changed or anything. She just won't sleep."
Albert steps around his exhausted wife, walking toward the nursery at the end of the hallway directly across from his own bedroom. He steps inside the nursery, the glow of the butterfly night light casting his shadow on the purple walls. Albert walks over the bassinet, leaning over it to stare down at his daughter. Her dark eyes are wide open and when she stares up at Albert, she smiles a bit.
"Hello, my schatz." He rubs her little belly with one finger. His daughter lets out a gentle sigh, satisfied with her belly being rubbed.
Elsa watches from the doorway, amazed. She tucks her hair behind her ears, wrapping her arms around herself. "She doesn't even startle around you. I don't know how you do it."
Albert looks at Elsa over his shoulder, smiling. "I cannot take credit for everything you do while I am away."
Elsa rolls her eyes, holding out a hand for him to take. "Come on, dummkopf. It's time to sleep."
As they leave the nursery, Albert pulls Elsa close, a misty, faraway look in his eyes. He stares down the hallway as he tells her, "Our daughter, she can save us all."
Elsa frowns slightly, but plays off the odd comment with a smile and gives him a kiss on the cheek.