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Okay. So if she’s being completely honest, things have not been quite as perfect since she and Josh got together as she may have hoped. Take this morning for example. She’d woken early as she frequently did and knowing Josh slept late she’d used the extra few hours to create the perfect romantic morning for the two of them. After showering and perfecting her makeup, she’d made waffles- Josh didn’t have a waffle iron so this necessitated a quick trip to the Target- found the most serene (with just a hint of sexy) music to play in the background, and brewed a fresh pot of steaming hot dark roast. Casually draping herself across one of the dining room chairs in a new silk robe- also from the Target excursion- she’d waited a total 28 minutes for him to finally drag himself out of the bedroom. Her reward, rather than a morning roll in the hay complete with multiple orgasms and I love yous, was a quick peck on the cheek as Josh grabbed a waffle and ran out the door. With only the tiniest hint of hesitation, Rebecca wasted no time in calling Paula to strategize. Clearly getting Josh was only the first step in her happily ever after.
Paula assures her she’ll be over immediately but the sounds of screaming children, thuds, and possible gunfire (!) has Rebecca believing she has at least a half an hour till her BFF shows up. Therefore she’s quite surprised when only 10 minutes later she hears a rustling at Josh’s front door.
“I didn’t expect you to be here so soon,” she announces throwing open the door, only half-heartedly working to keep her robe closed.
But it isn’t Paula standing there. It’s Greg.
Whatever surprise she feels at seeing him unexpectedly on Josh’s stoop is reflected back at her in his face at finding her at the door. The surprise of the encounter leaves both of them vulnerable and she is able to discern panic, sadness, and maybe even regret in his face before his guard is up again.
“Greg. Gregory. How nice to see you,” she babbles, hoping against hope to bring some level of normalcy and appropriateness to this unexpected encounter. “What brings you by?”
He seems less inclined to civility and sputters out instead, “I was hoping not to run into anyone.”
“Well, coming to Josh’s home is maybe not the best option if you’re trying to avoid us,” she returns defensively. Maturely she refrains from adding in a ‘duh’ because really, how dense can you be?
He just stares at her, again with an oddly open and vulnerable face, to which she is unaccustomed. Really taking him in for the first time she notices with unwelcomed alarm how awful he looks. His complexion is ashy and his eyes are bloodshot. She notes for the first time the milk carton in his arms.
“Are you okay?” She asks now in a much kinder voice. Despite her better judgment, which is screaming at her to distance herself from Greg as much as possible, she can’t quite help the concern she feels in seeing him so discomposed.
Rather than answer her, however, Greg closes his eyes for a moment, presumably to compose himself before opening them again and answering, “I just brought this by for Josh.” He gestures towards the milk crate in his arms.
“Okay,” Rebecca drags out the word in confusion. Greg hasn’t contacted either Josh or herself since Jayma’s wedding and she can’t imagine what in the world could precipitate Greg’s sudden generosity. She notices for the first time the crate is full of old records.
He must sense her confusion, because he adds “They’re from my dad.” He seems to lose heart with this announcement though because he coughs suddenly and violently before setting the crate on the mat before him and turning his back on her and walking suddenly away.
She watches him retreat swallowing back her retort. He obviously doesn't want to be there and though she is dying to know what brought him to Josh’s early on a Saturday morning with a milk crate full of records, she doubts Greg is going to satisfy her curiosity. Instead she takes the records back into the apartment and thoroughly busies herself looking through the collection of Rat Pack and late 70s funk till Paula’s insistent knocking on the door pulls her back to the present moment.
Though she had urgently summoned her to the apartment a mere hour ago, when Paula finally arrives, Rebecca can’t muster up much enthusiasm for her plots and ploys to manipulate Josh’s affection. Paula seems equally uninterested in attempting to decipher the hidden meaning behind Greg’s sudden arrival and his strange delivery and both women part in a matter of hours with equal dissatisfaction, Paula disturbed by her friend’s continued preoccupation with Greg Serrano and Rebecca with a continuing itch to understand the significance of Mr. Serrano’s records and Greg’s sad and defeated countenance.
It isn’t until hours later when Josh finally returns from his shift at work that Rebecca has her answer.
When Josh gets home it takes him a minute or two to notice the crate in the corner of the living room. Rebecca purposefully doesn’t draw his attention to it, not quite sure how to introduce Greg’s name into their normal conversation. However after a few moments of mindlessly flipping channels on the television, the crate, which has taken on Herculean proportions in Rebecca’s mind, finally grabs Josh’s attention. As he silently moves to the records and begins thumbing through the selection, Rebecca prepares herself for the worst: Indignation, anger, rage, any number of negative emotions. What she doesn’t expect is Josh’s pure delight.
“Oh My God!” He exclaims ecstatically, “Mr. Serrano’s jams!” He begins plucking out record after record, turning delightedly to her showing each album and providing a running commentary on the significance of each. He holds up Frank Sinatra’s “Past Present and Future” and tells her with relish, “New York, New York! This album is why I came to the Big Apple in the first place!” Then with an aside he adds quietly to himself staring down at the album cover, “I can’t believe Mr. Serrano would give these up. Once I asked if I could borrow one and he told me he’d leave them to me when he died.”
Josh continues happily thumbing through the milk crate oblivious to the significance of his revelation, but Rebecca clutches to the kitchen counter top as the reality hits her. Greg’s lack of usual defenses, his red-rimmed eyes, the strange unexplained visit and gift: Marco Serrano is dead.