<i>~ping~</i><br/><br/>Mary Beth had been caressing his left thigh with the back of her hand, contemplating as to whether or not to again assault his senses and body, not necessarily in that order.  The sound effect ceased her caressing.  For now.<br/><br/>Following a few texts being sent as well as received, Elijah placed his phone back on the nightstand right next to his bed.  “Who was that?” she asked.  “Is everything alright?”<br/><br/>“Oh yeah, peachy,” he said, while slipping his right arm back under the covers.  “It was the couple who have Rosalie.  They were wondering if they could keep her until early Sunday evening.  Said they were going to their family’s cabin by the lake, and she was more than welcome to join them.”<br/><br/>“So what did you say?”<br/><br/>“I said it was okay,” he replied, as if there was any other answer to be considered.  “I’m not gonna rain on her parade by saying she’s gotta come home.”<br/><br/>“So we have the entire weekend together?”<br/><br/>“It would appear so,” he stated matter-of-factly.  Once he saw that gleam in her eye, he quickly added, “Oh no, M.B.  No.”<br/><br/>“Oh yes,” she cooed.  “I think we need to celebrate.”<br/><br/>“How ‘bout some cake?” Elijah desperately asked.<br/><br/>“I was thinking you could have something else of mine,” she said, assuming her position on top of him.<br/><br/>“I really like cake.”<br/><br/>“You can call it whatever you want, sugar.”  Mary Beth pressed her bare breasts against his equally bare chest while smothering him in a kiss.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">&gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt;&lt; &lt; &lt; &lt; &lt; &lt;​</div><br/>The rest of the weekend seemed to go by in a blur.  Mary Beth treated him to lunch on Saturday, while he made his mother’s recipe of spaghetti and meatballs that evening.  She, of course, whipped up a salad, backed up with a bottle of red wine.  The ingredients and wine were purchased after lunch.<br/><br/>Sunday was a magical day, according to Mary Beth.  Unsurprisingly, that morning began with a bang, literally and figuratively.  Which reminded him, she was the horniest woman he’d ever met.  Even hornier than him, for that matter.  How was that possible?<br/><br/>Elijah suggested they have brunch at one of his favorite diners off the beaten path.  Her eyes went wide when he handed her a full-face helmet, leather jacket, gloves, and boots.  Apparently, she didn’t know he owned a motorcycle.  Both ways during their ride, Mary Beth held him tight, but not suffocatingly so.  All she gushed about was the thrill of the ride upon reaching their initial destination.  Mary Beth enjoyed a pair of waffles, three strips of bacon, an English muffin, and a copious amount of coffee.  Well, the copious amount of coffee applied to them both, actually.  His meal consisted of a chicken fried steak drenched in gravy, scrambled eggs, hash browns, and sour dough toast, slightly burnt.<br/><br/>Once back at his place, she insisted on boinking his brains out right there on the couch.  She said she’d never experienced anything like that before between her legs.  So it stood to reason that she craved something<i>else</i>between her legs when they got home.  Later, but with plenty of time to spare, he drove her home in the Wrangler.<br/><br/>Anytime now, Elijah was expecting a knock at his door, and when it finally sounded, his eyes lit up with anticipation.  “Hi, Daddy,” his daughter said, upon the door’s opening.  “Didja miss me?”<br/><br/>“Of course, I did, buttercup,” he replied.  “Looks like you got some sun.”  Elijah glanced at the couple and their two kids, and added, “Looks like you<i>all </i>got some sun.”  Smiling, he thanked his friends again and eagerly listened to everything they’d done and seen at the lake, as told by his daughter.  Every.  Thing.<br/><br/>Once she was tucked in for the night, he sat at the dining room table, pen in hand.  Rosalie’s appearance earlier solidified his idea of how she would be his carrier pigeon.  There was, after all, no other viable way that he could see to say what had to be said.  They’d never exchanged phone numbers, emails, or any other types of contact information.  She needed to be thanked.  Elijah only wished he coulda taken care of that face-to-face.<br/><br/><i><span style="font-family:Calligraffitti">Dear Gwen,</span></i><br/><br/><i><span style="font-family:Calligraffitti">Where to begin?  Well, wherever it begins, it’s gonna all end in heaps of thank you upon thank you.  That was very generous (and totally unnecessary) of you to pick up our tab on Friday night.  I think we both know how far pricier that was compared to cardboard pizza on roller-skates.  I would gladly say that the next <u>two</u> are on me, but I am under the impression that you’ve been avoiding me.  And I understand why.</span></i><br/><br/><i><span style="font-family:Calligraffitti">And as if that wasn’t enough, you totally blow my socks off with that backstage pass.  No way for you to know, of course, but she’s one of my favorite musical artists.  I only wish you coulda been there, too.  She sang, like, six or seven songs for us, and she seemed so genuine and friendly.  Again, thank you.  Told you there’d be many expressions of thanks.</span></i><br/><br/><i><span style="font-family:Calligraffitti">I sincerely hope all is well with you and Toby.  Take care.  And, uh, thank you.</span></i><br/><br/><i><span style="font-family:Calligraffitti">Eli</span></i><br/><br/><i><span style="font-family:Calligraffitti">P.S. Had I known you worked there, I would not have come.  Needless to say, you’ll never see me there again.</span></i><br/><br/>Elijah came close, so, so close to complimenting her about how good she looked that night.  He chose not to, knowing how tacky (at best) it would be, especially since he was there with another woman.<br/><br/>He simply wrote<i><span style="font-family:Calligraffitti">Gwen</span> </i>on the envelope.