For someone who had been explicitly embarrassed in front of enough parents and teachers to start a gossip column, Elijah thought Gwen held up extremely well.  It was as if once her son was quietly escorted outta the picture, she was a whole new person, engaging and amusing.  There was her sense of humor, he thought again, while negotiating his way home through the light, morning traffic.  She had noticed their agreed-upon signal, as he watched in the mirror while she steered her car into the recycling depot’s parking lot.<br/><br/>Elijah noticed her wave and even heard her departure shout of seeing him at pickup.  It was possible to hear her due to the fact that his vehicle’s stereo was turned off.  Rosalie usually commandeered the device with her seemingly endless lineup of Disney soundtracks.  If he heard<i>Let It Go </i>from “Frozen” one more time . . . He certainly didn’t complete the thought, since the coma-inducing tune raised a smile, picturing his little girl singing along (way off key) word for word.  Curse her, he knew all the words to the song, too!  She absolutely loved it when he sang along with her.  Not surprisingly, he never did this in front of others.  Only for her.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, he pondered as to whether or not he would have made contact with her if she hadn’t plowed into him like a redheaded battering ram.  Probably not.  Okay, most definitely not.  Parenting was a tricky gig.  No one was an expert at it, especially those with toddler-aged and younger children.  It remained a learning process for the parents, too.  Doubly so if said parent was a single one to boot, such as himself.  Intel hadn’t been gleaned on whether Gwen was raising Toby by herself or if there was a Mr. Whitmore at home or already on his way to the office.  Elijah failed to notice whether she wore a wedding band or not, but then, it never crossed his mind to do so while in her presence.<br/><br/>Pulling into his parking spot at the condo’s garage where they lived, it bothered him that Gwen was in his thoughts so much lately.  Lately, of course, constituted the last hour or so, not so much the last five years, or whatever.  About to dissect what it might be about her, Elijah instead brushed it aside.  There was, after all, a still piping hot chorizo breakfast burrito he’d picked up along the way for his enjoyment.  His request for extra chorizo would for surely kick his ass, along with the chunky medium-hot salsa.  The green kind.<br/><br/>For his daughter’s first day of school, he was ecstatic that he had the presence of mind to ask for today and tomorrow off from his job.  Elijah was lead mechanic at<i>Tricolore Motorsports</i>, a motorcycle dealership specializing in Italian brands Aprilia, Ducati, and MV Agusta.  They sold and serviced just about any brand of motorcycle, though his sole focus remained on the Italian manufacturers, who required a special certification to become a service technician.  A fancy way of saying motorcycle mechanic.<br/><br/>Thanks to Rosalie’s early wake-up call, he decided to nap part of the afternoon away.  And to think, he’d have the opportunity to do this all over again tomorrow if he so wished.  Elijah timed it so he was a little early for pickup.  A few other parents or guardians had the same idea, including a particular Ms. (or Mrs.?) Whitmore.  She’d already seen him, judging by her wave, so any attempts at avoiding her were outta the question.  Worse, kindergarten and 1st grade were in the same pickup area.  The dating gods were clearly conspiring against him, probably believing it’d been long enough for him to be minus female companionship.  Meh, what did they know, he muttered under his breath.  After tomorrow, he wouldn’t be picking Rosalie up at this time, having signed her up for after-school care.  Pickup time would be later, yet still falling within the school’s parameters.  Then and only then, did he believe run-ins with Gwen would cease and desist.<br/><br/>Holding his ground, Gwen advanced on his position, while he took note of how eye-catching she was in jeans and her hair in a ponytail, though not so much with a bandage on her other hand.  He returned her salutation with a smile and a “Hello” of his own.  Something in her bag needed to be removed, which soon enough turned out to be a pink and purple notebook with “Rosalie Goes To School” on the front.  She showed him the lined, home-made pages with sparkles in it, and then explained the notebook’s origin and purpose.<br/><br/>Elijah was truly humbled and touched by her kindness and thoughtfulness.  And Gwen was thanking him?!  Seemed to him she had it all backwards.  Here was someone he barely knew who took the time and effort, though it probably didn’t take her too long, to make a keepsake notebook for his daughter.  He still refused, however, to stealthily glance at her left hand.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, not too far from them. . . .<br/><br/>“What are you staring at, M.B.?” Erin Rossini asked her friend and fellow teacher.<br/><br/>“That bitch,” Mary Beth Sinclair answered icily.<br/><br/>“What bitch?”<br/><br/>“That red-headed bitch with the bratty kid from this morning,” was her equally icy response.  “Who the hell does she think she is, making moves on my man?”<br/><br/>Erin followed Mary Beth’s line of sight, until it rested on Gwen and Elijah, who was now holding some kinda notebook.  Gwen appeared to be the only auburn haired lass on school grounds, at the moment.  Erin snorted in an unladylike fashion, and then stated, “Elijah Primeau?  He’s damn fine for sure, but guess what, toots?  He ain’t your man, because you haven’t done squat to make it so.”<br/><br/>“I’m working on it,” Mary Beth said, while her eyes remained locked on the chatting pair of parents.<br/><br/>“And I’m working on world peace!” Erin shot back sarcastically.  “Move your ass already, before your redheaded bitch will be between the sheets with<i>your man.</i>”  Her last two words were dripping with mockery, just as she intended.<br/><br/>Mary Beth glared at her, though she held her tongue.  Parents were eagerly approaching them for reports on their little precious bundles of joy.  Both women were 3rd grade teachers.  And single.  And good-looking beyond any doubt whatsoever.  The kind of good-looking that had their male (and probably a few female) students swooning all day.<br/><br/>And, back to our single parents who aren’t yet aware of their shared singularity. . . .<br/><br/>"Don't suppose your recommendations extend from recycling points to somewhere child friendly to eat, do they?" Gwen asked, as the school bell rang.  She explained the electricity issue and why her hand was bandaged.  Extra weight was soon added to his right leg, as Rosalie snuck up on him and fastened herself to his limb.<br/><br/>“Hi, Daddy,” she gushed.<br/><br/>“Hey, tater tot,” he replied, scooping her up with one arm.  “Good first day of school?”<br/><br/>“What a day,” she said, clearly relieved that Day One of the Trials and Tribulations of Kindergarten were now behind her.<br/><br/>Elijah laughed heartily.  “You can tell me all about it later,” he said while she was still in his arm.  “Rosalie Primeau, I’d like you to meet Gwen Whitmore.  She made you this, y’know.”  His daughter’s eyes matched the sparkles within the notebook, taking it from his hand.<br/><br/>“Thank you, Mrs. Whitmore!” Rosalie raved, extending her little hand toward Gwen.  Elijah beamed with pride at her simple, polite gesture, though he inwardly cringed at the “Mrs.” part.  That’s my girl, he thought.  He suddenly realized he hadn’t answered Gwen’s question about a restaurant, while Toby had found his way to his mother’s side.  This was definitely not the same boy from this morning.<br/><br/>“As a matter of fact, I do know of such a place, Gwen” he said with a mischievous wink.  “Three little words is all it takes,” he quietly informed her.  “<i>Gonzo Time Pizza</i>?” Elijah asked no one in particular.<br/><br/>“Can we?!  Can we?!” Rosalie exclaimed, having found a second and third wind.  Maybe even a fourth one, too.<br/><br/>“Yes, we certainly can,” he said, beginning their walk toward the parking lot.  Elijah looked at Gwen with a crooked smile.  “It’s a child friendly pizza joint.  A little<i>too</i>child friendly, if you know what I’m saying,” he pointed out.  “Oh yeah, and my treat.”<br/><br/>Rosalie, while still being carried, cradled her new notebook like it was the Holy Grail.  And in all likelihood, it probably was just that to her.  Purple was her favorite color, after all.  At least it was for this month.  And then she began the unmistakable first verse of<i>Let It Go.  </i>Elijah shook his head with a smirk.  The stereo wasn’t even on!<br/><br/>Mary Beth, now standing alone and watching the foursome’s retreat, sulked and seethed in the shadows.