Rebecca came over 30 minutes before closing. She was impressed by how professional the place looked. the Pawn and Payday was no longer a sty. She bent and rubbed her hands along the fine carpet. 
"This is so soft," Rebecca says, "it looks worlds better."
    She was wearing a white Doors shirt, with Jim Morrison looking moodily out at Greg. Her denim jean skirt was longer than her usual dresses, and hugged her legs down to below her knees. Her feet were clad in striped toe socks, accompanied by flip flops as well. She looked like a cheerful hippie chick that just came from Woodstock.
    "It doesn't look half as good as you," Greg says, sitting on his butt beside her, his hands stretched behind him to support his upper body. She smiles.
    "You're so sweet," she says, pecking his lips with her own. She lays on one side, her breast drooping against the Carpet King's handiwork.
"I'm so happy you made your sale," she says supportively, "my big guy is a success!! We should get ice cream to celebrate."
    She gathered up her tweed purse, which accents her trendy clothes.
"Can you take off early?" she asks expectantly.
    "I can't keep doing that," Greg says, "I need to have regular hours. Otherwise customers don't know what to expect when they show up. I've already might've lost clients by not being there during posted hours."
    "Clients? she says sarcastically, "you mean, people looking to rent to own, and save a few bucks on pre-owned crap?"
    "No, I mean clients," Greg says guardedly, "those looking to shell out money for products. Didn't we agree to not criticize either of our money situations?"
    "Jeez, don't get your balls in a knot!!" Rebecca chides, "I'm just giving you shit. I know your store is like your fort."
    Greg smiles thinly. She was working up his ire. But he could shrug it off. He had a reference for how she acted when she was legitimately upset. The night on the couch where she fired back at him had not been playful in the slightest. Greg had thick skin. He could take her razing.
    She kept him company for the remainder of his store day. She made occasional quips at him, and Greg began to wonder if she was upset by the text he sent last night. Sexual frustration can make the nicest woman bitchy. It wasn't like he was out fucking some other girl, or something. He was painting his store. Granted, he came up with the excuse to avoid seeing her, and prolonging her horniness, but she was acting like she was mildly upset.
Greg dismissed it after awhile. She was here, that's all that mattered. If she had been really perturbed, she wouldn't have shown up at all. And she arrived without him asking, either.
    Greg followed Rebecca into the Jack and Jill daycare. The same older blonde lady asks to show them both something. They walk outside, following the excitable woman. She walks them over to where Julie is busy playing, in a gigantic green sandbox, shaped like a sea tortoise. Julie is attempting to shovel sand into a big thimble-shaped tub. Her checkered pants and shirt are gritty and dirty with the effort.
    "Hey Ju-Ju!!" Greg says excitedly. Ju-Ju gasps and looks up in astonishment.
    "Da-da!!" she shrieks, waving her hands wildly. The tiny shovel she was using tumbles end over end into the box. Her tiny fingers raise upward to him, eager to be held. Greg bends over to scoop her up. The daycare provider touches his shoulder.
    "Wait, Greg," she says, "that's what I wanted to show you!! Julie, stand up. C'mon, you can do it!!"
    The blonde woman prods Julie for awhile before the tiny tot gives it her full attention. Julie's face scrunches up comically as she struggles to a standing position. She uses the bucket to prop herself up. Her feet are a little too wide, but she shuffles her gape and staggers towards Greg.
    "OH MY GOD!! YOU'RE WALKING!!" Rebecca shouts with almost hysteria. She bounces up and down in place excitedly, totally enamored with her daughter's efforts. Rebecca looks like a beatnik pogo stick, jumping like that in her outfit. Greg laughs happily. Greg stoops down and holds out his arms to the wandering toddler. Julie makes it all the way over to Greg before tumbling. Greg catches her descent and tosses her up like he know she likes.
    Rebecca has her camera out, and is fiddling with the buttons.
"Okay, Greg!!," she says, "have her walk to me now!! I'm recording!!"
    Greg easily puts Ju-Ju back down and lets go of Julie's shoulders. The kiddo doesn't quite have the hang of alternating her arms for balance. She walks like many children when they first begin: with her arms held straight about her head, out of habit of walking with parents guiding them.
    Rebecca kept recording as she picked up her little girl and kissed her cheek. Holding the camera at arms length, Greg had never felt such a love for the opposite sex in all his life. It was such a pivotal moment for him. He was now a part of Julie's childhood, experience one of those epic first moments. First walk. First words. First big girl poop. Ha ha ha!! His inner mind celebrated.
    The blonde daycare provider has tears pooling in her eyes. She makes eye contact with Greg, and shrugs.
    "It gets me every time," she says, wiping the teardrops away. He couldn't go on without knowing her name. It wasn't right. She oversaw all the kids here. She was responsible for Julie when Greg and Rebecca were away.
    "I'm sorry, what was your name, ma'am?" Greg asks politely.
"Brenda," she says, shaking Greg's hand.
    "Greg, come over, I want to get a picture!!" Rebecca shouts, still holding her smart phone. Julie is going crazy, kicking her legs and laughing stupendously. Greg stands in, completing that photograph he had envisioned, while standing in her home the first time. Checkmate.

LINK TO PART 75: http://www.ebaumsworld.com/blogs/view/82565329/