Knock like a murderer? Elijah thought, clearly amused at her rapid recovery.  Was that in any way similar to walk like an Egyptian?  Still, he laughed aloud at her offbeat comparison, though truthfully, she<i>did </i>open her door.  Grinning, he refrained from bringing this fact to her attention.  Oh, his kingdom for a chainsaw right about now.  And a hockey goalie’s mask!<br/><br/>Stepping inside and after relieving himself of her laptop and books, Elijah knew that look she gave him.  By all (okay, maybe not<i>all</i>, but<i>most </i>of them) the gods of the Accept/Decline Realm, he knew right then and there that she wouldn’t be taking “no, thank you” as a viable option.  A pair of heart-wrenching “pleases” from her and he waved the white flag.  Compliance complete, it was<i>now</i>that his tummy decided to congratulate him on a wise decision.  Successfully tuning them out earlier, the scents from her kitchen slapped his tummy beast to life, who for whatever reason, chose to maunder like Jabba the Hutt.<i>Chookah toh meetahtah ooofee. . . .</i><br/><br/>Seated directly in the crossfire of her planned meal’s tempting scents, he accepted her offer of tea.  No eyebrows were raised at her admittance of a British background.  That explained a lot, he thought, recalling her alternate terminology, which he secretly adored.  And if that were the case, she more than likely spelled words such as<i>color</i>,<i>flavor, harbor, </i>and<i>favorite, </i>amongst others, with a ‘u’ forcefully wedged in between the ‘o’ and the ‘r.’  If he ever texted her, Elijah would make it a point to include that invasive ‘u.’  He quietly informed her that he’d never been to her homeland, yet knew he would like it immensely if he ever did.<br/><br/>While Gwen busied herself with preparing the dinner she’d cooked earlier, his eyes wandered around the kitchen, mostly drawn to the fridge and its myriad photographs and drawings.  The drawings, of course, screamed Toby at the top of their lungs.  The photographs, on the other hand, were a mixture of Toby by himself in scenic shots or posing with his mother.  The one thing they all had in common?  Smiles were on full display.<br/><br/>The little boy’s artwork captivated Elijah’s attention, because he was seeing it from a boy’s perspective.  He absolutely loved the drawings and paintings Rosalie proudly presented him.  But, c’mon!  One could only take so many images of unicorns!  There was a unicorn on a mountain.  Another one was by a lake.  Then, there were the pair of the mystical beasts running in a field of, erm, he was pretty sure it was some kinda flower, so he went with that.<br/><br/>His all-time favorite was the one of a unicorn cruising around in outer space.  Just for fun, here is where he pointed out to her an inaccuracy.  See, there was no way a unicorn would be in outer space, cuz really, how would it get there?  Pegasus, on the other hand, had wings, so there you go.  A pair of wings trumped a solitary horn any day, anytime.  Patiently explaining to her about the mythological creature, Rosalie was having none of it.  It escalated into a 15-minute argument, until he caved and granted her the “win.”  Elijah smiled at the memory.<br/><br/>And then Gwen turned with what appeared to be heaven heaped on two plates.  Was it Christmas?!  And Elijah had yet again missed the memo about the special day?!  The offering she’d set down before him resulted in him salivating like a ravenous beast, which he pretty much was.  Slightly below, Jabba was going ballistic with expectation.  However, the food could wait, as he respectfully and intently listened to what she had to say about Martin.  Ordinarily, mere mention of the d-bag he’d met earlier would cause a loss of appetite.  But not tonight, and not with Gwen’s effort of feeding him that tempted him with each passing second.  He very nearly drowned the chicken, stuffing, and potatoes with her hot gravy, fully aware that he sucked at crafting his own attempt at gravy.  And he vehemently loathed those store-bought versions in jars.  The jar they were housed in was worth more than its contents.<br/><br/>As he ate, Elijah knew beyond a shadow of any and all types of doubt, that there would be nothing left on his plate when he was done.  Might almost look brand new.  Little did he know that the mother of all curve balls had been hurled his way, compliments of his accommodating and generous hostess.  “I wish things had worked out with us, you know,” she admitted.  Caught in mid-chew, he was stunned at her words.  Early on, he’d also entertain thoughts of her.  Of them.  Having so much in common tended to have this sort of effect.  While he did nothing about Gwen, Mary Beth did everything about him.<br/><br/>And what were the odds of Gwen mentioning how happy she was for his happiness with Mary Beth?  Gathering the last of the peas, with the last of the roasted potatoes, with the last of the chicken and gravy, Elijah fumbled for words just prior to clearing his plate.  He finally managed, “Well, uh, I’m not sure how much longer Miss Sinclair is gonna be in the picture.”  She stared at him in silence.  His fork now void of any food, he placed it on his plate, noticing that she hadn’t touched her meal at all.  Did Martin get to her that badly?  And her comment about dropping out of school bothered him, too.<br/><br/>But first, back to Mary Beth.  “I recently cancelled, er, outings with her twice, and both at the last minute,” he explained, though she never asked.  “Something came up with the sitters and I had no choice.  I couldn’t find anyone at such short notice.”  Elijah shrugged, then concluded, “I’m, um, not sure how much longer she’s gonna put up with that, cuz being a single parent yourself, you know it’s bound to happen again.”<br/><br/>With no immediate response from Gwen, he jumped at the opportunity.  “Y’know, the bike shop I work at has been doing awesome business lately,” he stated.  “Sales are steady off the showroom floor, but even more so, customers are bringing their rides in for customization, which usually ranges between performance hop-ups and cosmetic tweaks.  Sometimes both.”  Elijah cleared his throat, unsure as to whether to continue or not.  He’d made it this far while boring her about motorcycles, may as well go all the way.<br/><br/>“Now Gwen, please don’t be insulted or offended with what I’m about to say, okay?  Just hear me out,” he said.  “But, I, uh, could float you a loan if that’s what it takes to keep you in school, or to maybe start up that book- and paper-making business you just mentioned.  And no worries about paying me back right away.”  With a villainous grin, he whispered, “Besides, I know where you live now.  If you’re late, I’ll send over a coupla goombahs to collect.  Or break your legs.”  Elijah winked at her playfully, and then said, “Just think about it.  You don’t have to answer me tonight.”<br/><br/>Always polite, she asked about his teaching job and Rosalie.  He spoke about his daughter first, naturally, then explained that this was his first time teaching, with no formal training, he quickly added.  Elijah had answered an ad and the rest, as they say, was history.  While speaking to her, he wished she’d take him up on his offer of that loan.  Yet on the other hand, he knew Gwen was a prideful woman, and now that British Pride in particular was thrown into the mix, well, he pretty much could predict what her answer would be.