Had she been previously thinking of a business venture for her notebook making?  Perhaps as a guilty fantasy, knowing she was quite good at it?  When Gwen revealed she already had a good number of orders in only proved this point to him.  Elijah’s 60-40 proposal was soon met with numbers of her own.  Not only did her 40-40-20 bid sound good, she even backed it up with an explanation of what would be distributed and where.  Their transaction was sealed with a handshake.<br/><br/>It was as if she did this on a regular basis.  Gwen Whitmore: single parent, part-time student, baby doll waitress, shrewd business woman.  Half of those would be dropped once her business took off.  The thought of Martin no longer drooling over her pleased him to no end.  And why was that?  It’s not like they were dating, as there was already a love interest in his life.  Elijah attributed this protectiveness for her to knowing the kinda person and mother she is.  Big brother, perhaps?  Not really, since they were relatively close in age.  Still, every now and then, he thought about what she said about them not working out.<br/><br/>Gwen’s comment about a hundred ideas slowly brought him out of his trance.  She was right, too.  Everyone needed stationery, even him.  Elijah was often tired of having to scrounge for scratch paper.  He noticeably perked up when she mentioned schools.  “I like your idea about schools, Gwen,” he said.  “And if you could somehow put their name and logo on the cover would only sweeten it.”  A thought crossed his mind, knowing how touchy people got when logos were used.  “Although with logos,” he pointed out, “you’d probably need the school’s permission, but that shouldn’t be a problem if they ordered in bulk.”  A mental note was recorded to meet with the head of the shop’s finance department the next time he reported for work.<br/><br/>“When can we meet?” Gwen asked.  She also brought to his attention the matter of giving notice at work, which he always believed to be the right and courteous thing to do.  He figured she wouldn’t miss having to wear that snug and sexy outfit one bit.  About to answer her questions, a familiar soft and sleepy voice joined their conversation.<br/><br/>And there stood Toby, drowsily inquiring as to what Elijah was doing in his home with his mother.  The scarily observant child even noticed the fact that his mom was in her pajamas.  Gwen naturally went to him for comfort and to find out what was so troubling.  From what he heard, a bad dream had woken the lad, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, a monster lurked under his bed, too.<br/><br/>Trying to reason with him that there was no monster there, Gwen was immediately rebuffed with a stamped foot for extra emphasis.  Elijah did wonder what her being a girl had to do with anything.  Ah, the imaginative minds of little boys.  This reminded him of himself at that age.  Toby was imploring him, and him alone, for assistance in monster squashing.  His mother was helpless and apparently not needed, as she looked to him for any kind of aid he could provide.<br/><br/>Elijah rose from the table and guided Toby back toward his bedroom, with a hand on the frightened boy’s shoulder.  Gwen wasn’t too far behind them.  Peering into his darkened room, their visitor tapped that shoulder and said, “Wait here.  This shouldn’t take long.”  While he entered the room, Gwen moved to stand at her son’s side, eager to see the drama unfold for herself.<br/><br/>Initially, he knelt by Toby’s bed with his weight on his right elbow, as he looked under the bed.  After a few minutes in this pose, Elijah eventually lay on his side, his frame fully extended.  He remained in this position a little longer than his first one.  Finally rolling onto his back, he slowly stood and returned to the waiting pair, kneeling in front of Toby, who stared at him expectantly.<br/><br/>“Okay, here’s the deal, Toby,” he said.  “He’s still under your bed, and he’ll always be there.”  The boy’s eyes widened at this revelation, until Elijah continued.  “And you were right, Toby.  He admitted that he was there to eat you, until he noticed your pajamas.  That’s when he said he doesn’t eat<i>any </i>kiddos who’re wearing Superhero jammies.”  He let that sink in for a while, as the tyke stood there, quieter than a stoned mouse.<br/><br/>“And after talking to him some more, he agreed to<i>always</i>be under your bed,” he stated evenly.  “But here’s the part you’re gonna like the best, Toby.  He said he’ll be under your bed, but not to eat you, no matter what kinda pajamas you’re wearing.  And finally, he said he’s now there to protect you against any others who try to sneak into your room at night.”  Elijah tousled the boy’s already tousled hair and stood, remaining in front of him.  “Sound good to you?”  Toby nodded, but remained silent, looking tired, yet also relieved.<br/><br/>“C’mon, young man, I’ll tuck you in,” Elijah offered.  Toby took his extended hand and completed the short walk back to his bed.  Now under his covers, Toby thanked him with a tired smile.  “You’re welcome, Toby.  G’night and sleep well.  And dream of dinosaurs in outer space,” he said with a smile, recalling his favorite artistic subjects.<br/><br/>Turning to leave, Elijah remembered something, as he spun back to face Toby.  “Oh, and by the way, Toby,” he began.  “His name is Francois and he’s Canadian.  He also knows your name’s Toby.”  The soon to be slumbering boy smiled, his eyelids growing heavier.  About to exit his bedroom, he winked at Gwen.