Edie returns from her visit to the nursing home to discover that Carlos has already received his eviction notice. Edie sweetly offers to let Carlos crash at her place, just, you know, until he can find a place of his own. I have an idea! How about Carlos moves into his condo? You know, the one that's supposedly been being remodeled this whole time? Carlos catches a whiff of the sickly smell of lies in the air, and extrapolates that evil Edie actually had something to do with the eviction. They fight, he tells her he isn't in love with her, only in "like." She tells him she very well may be carrying his "love child," which she quickly and pointedly downgrades to "like child." Sigh. I know that slutty behavior is almost always linked to some kind of self-esteem problems, but still -- this new version of Edie just does not jibe with the Edie of yesteryear, a woman who racked up the notches on her lipstick case, sure, and was actively looking for love, yeah, but who also had an admirably sturdy independence streak. Remember how she left her long-time crush Mike the very second things got a little complicated? Back then, all it took was one bloody wrench and Edie was off to greener pastures. But now, she's this weak-o woman who puts her head in the sand (where "sand" equals Carlos's lap) rather than face the fact that there's a disturbing lack of cartoon hearts in her current man's eyes. Seasons 1 and 2 Edie would have never, ever put up with a man who needed to be talked in to loving her. But Late Season 3 Edie is totally willing to settle for whatever bad company she can scrape together. Sad, so sad. Nice dress, though.
EPT time. Edie comes out of the bathroom with her piss-drenched stick, and Carlos launches into an agonizing fantasy about how glorious it's going to be when they have their baby. It's going to be a boy, of course, and they're going to paint his nursery to look like pirate's booty, and Carlos is definitely going to move in, and they're all going to be so happy together! And really anyone who can't see where this is headed deserves to have his or her television viewer's license revoked. That's right: the test is totally negative, which means the rabbit lives and Carlos is now completely not into Edie, once again. Really, the only good thing about this scene is when Edie screams at Carlos for putting the urine-soaked stick on the coffee table without using a coaster.
And for the five of you out there who are still think Tom isn't an idiot, this next scene ought to change your mind. So Tom, frustrated over Lynette's silence, invites an old college drinking buddy -- now a marriage counselor -- down to the restaurant to administer some stealthy marriage-healing therapy on Lynette. And what makes this the stupidest plan that ever was? Let me count the ways. For one thing, a couple's counselor should be totally neutral, meaning no ties to any one side -- which means no former drinking buddies allowed, Tom Dumb. Also both parties need to be fully invested in the process, which means they need to actually be aware that they're in therapy and consciously contributing. And also, you probably shouldn't conduct this highly personal conversation right in the middle of the restaurant that you own, where an employee could walk in at any moment. I mean, I get that Tom is Desperate, and he feels as though he needs to do something, anything, to get the lines of communication up and running with Lynette, but maybe a nice, quiet mini-vacation to some tropical locale might have been a better place to start. Or a simple, nice dinner out together? But instead he comes up with this booby-trap of a therapist plan? It's like he built a rocket-ship out of coffee cans and cinnamon buns and then was all, "Hop in, everybody, we're going into Deep Space!"