It was almost completely off when Julie began to cry. The shrieking was amplified by the baby monitor which added to the  unpleasantness. Rebecca slumps and rests her head against Greg's neck. A collective groan issues from them both.
    "Let's just be quiet and wait," Rebecca says in a desperate whisper, "Maybe she'll just go back to bed."
    But the whimpering continued unabated. Rebecca angles away from him. Greg hurriedly glances down before she puts her bra back on. He catches sight of an official fully, and the partial areola of the other one before they are both hidden from view.
"Fuck. I'll be right back, Greg," Rebecca says with frustration, "I'm so sorry."
Rebecca seizes her sweater and puts it back on. It should be a crime to see such great tits covered up. She doesn't button the shirt, but clasps the front closed with one hand. Rebecca goes to soothe Julie. Greg can hear her over the baby monitor.
"Oh, Ju-Ju," rebecca scolds, "Why now? Why, oh daughter of mine"
Greg hears the rustle of sheets as Julie is surely picked up.
"you like Greg, don't ya, Ju-Ju? I like him too. I like him too." her second round is baby talk. It is not quite the aphrodisiac, to hear this interaction. His erection wilted as he listened to Rebecca soothe Julie.
    Greg's hopes for intercourse slowly dwindle. Then, they vanish altogether minutes before Rebecca is done putting Julie back to bed. After the agonizing interruption, Rebecca returns to the living room, where the beleaguered Greg awaits.
    Rebecca comes back in a silk bathrobe. She still has her socks on. That's what really sunk in for Greg, he was in her home, where she was comfortable, behind closed doors. The place where she took her shoes off.
    She is carrying something in her hands. Greg can't quite make it out. It's something yellow. Cloth? Oh wow. It was Julie's chicken suit, from that awful day.
Rebecca spreads it out on her lap and examines it with her head down. That dark hair hung loose down her cheeks. Greg wanted to part the front of her robe. Her bra mocked him behind a layer of shadow.
    "Julie's outfit," Rebecca says. Rebecca lifts one arm of the costume and Greg can see the bloody handprint he had left on the child that day. Time had advanced, absorbing much of the red into a faint maroon. Apparently she never had washed it.
"You saved us both," Rebecca says in a small voice, "Julie and me. I keep this hung up in my closet. I know it's morbid, but whenever I feel overwhelmed by everything, I look at it, to remind her of the worst. It never fails to comfort me."
Greg can only look on, unsure what to say. He doesn't want to interrupt her stream of consciousness. She's gone deep to the heart of matters now. She was exposing herself, her fears, her desires.
"I needed to sleep beside her every night," Rebecca says, lost in thought, "I didn't want to let her out of my sight. Amy had to convince me to get her back in the crib. I might've killed myself if I lost my Julie. Oh, Greg."
    Rebecca bawls. The tears are luminescent in the moonlight. They drip down her cheek and plop onto her collarbone and chest.
No, no NO!! Why did she have to play the emotional woman card now??? Ok, she had thanked him enough already. The real reward was between her legs. She only needed to grant him entry, and that would be thanks enough. But no, this crap now.
"Hey babe," Greg says, "All I did really was take out a piece of trash to the curbside. It had been setting too long, and needed to be dealt with. Besides that, all I managed to do was get shot in the ass!!"
    He puts his hand on her shoulder, wanting to restart their physical contact. She does, but not in the way that Greg hoped. She plowed her head against his chest and cried loudly. Greg rolled his eyes, unseen to Rebecca. Lame. Looks like there would be no sex tonight. Taken to the edge of the promised land, but no further. The story of his life.
"Can you justHold me for awhile? Maybe?" Rebecca asks in a weak voice. A child's voice. She was hammered. It was near black-out for her. Greg had his window, and it was closed now. A brief 10 minutes was all he could've needed, at most. He couldn't pretend to be concerned about her pleasure that night. Then again, she may have walked away dissatisfied, so maybe it was for the best that things did not transpire.
    She fell asleep in his arms. Greg waited several minutes, petting her back mildly. he didn't want to leave. If he could have, he would go to sleep with her like this. He was tired beyond exhaustion, but he was not narcoleptic either. He just couldn't rest sitting up. This day had been arduous. Everything had gone well, but the sheer amount of activities done today was mind-boggling. Greg thought back to the car ride over to the methadone clinic. It seemed like an eternity since then. The car breakdown, the talk with Rebecca in the carThe bullshit with Gus, the installation of the carpet, then the dance marathon they had endured. Greg never knew he could do so much in a single 24 hour period.
    He smelled her hair one last time, then eased her gently back against the couch's arm rest. Her arm dropped, pulling the bathrobe open as she lay there. Those periwinkle blue undies shone once more with the moonlight. Her damp undergarments clung to her vagina, and yes it did resemble a camel toe. A bright glint near the center of her bra pads really did look like headlights, to coin the cliche description. Greg gazes down onto a body so beautiful, it seems proof there is a God. Perfect symmetry and grace made up her skin, her limbs, her face. Moon beams caressed her thighs and belly, lightening smooth flesh with a slight glimmer.
    Greg's excitement sprang up again in his drawers. Little Greg throbbed ceaselessly, like an unruly student refusing to put down their hand. He grabbed a thick comforter draped across one of the side guest chairs and covered Rebecca. She looked even more childish, with nothing but her head poking out above the sheet. Greg hoped to see her again. It seemed a simple matter, not worth second-guessing, but women were unpredictable. Here today, gone tomorrow. If she really wanted to, she could have her pick of almost any man.
    Greg was rethinking his prior appraisal of her options. Yes, children are impediments to a relationship, but Rebecca would be worth the effort. She was so quick-witted, and adventurous. NOt to mention, her lingerie choices seemed quite exceptional. If she really set her mind to it, she could bag another guy with little effort. Greg prayed she would not wizen up.
    Greg scanned the pictures lining the walls. Exactly like outside with the named rocks, there were pictures missing in here as well. there were lightened spots where others used to hang. It wasn't on just this wall, it was several adjacent walls as well. It looked as though Rebecca had consolidated all the pictures to this place here, baring the rest of the wallpaper emptiness. However, at the top of all these photos and frames, a conspicuous area lay absent. This was the biggest picture of all of them, from the looks of the slightly dusty outline. It could only have been a family picture, with the whole gang posing. Rebecca didn't want any reminders of her former life. It seemed severe, but women's tactics can be deadly.
    Greg envisioned himself standing with those two ladies in a warm portrait. The yearning for that was so strong, it seemed like the only path he wanted to follow at that moment. Forget the store, nevermind his outlandish preconceptions about becoming rich. Greg could live like a pauper if he could come home to Rebecca at the end of the day. A random thought: How would it sound to have Julie call him daddy? Gooseflesh broke out on Greg's arms.
    Greg looked achingly over at her one last time. With a deep sigh that wasn't all defeat, but traces of happiness, he quietly stepped to the front door, so as not to wake her. He closed the door with a soundless click.

LINK TO PART 48:http://www.ebaumsworld.com/blogs/view/82412536/