Ivy remained seated on the floor, stroking her face while the boys disconnected the equipment from the Joey and gathered their knapsacks.
"You can keep the beer, man," one of the boys said as he shouldered his pack. Then the pair was gone.
Alice padded softly into the room and began picking up the scattered litter. She stepped on an empty potato chip bag, which crackled noisily underfoot. Peter could see that it was an International Foods brand, one of Matthew's onetime goodies. Too bad he hadn't stayed in fucking soda pop. Any temporary remorse Peter felt for his behavior, for slapping Ivy, vanished, and his rage returned with greater force.
"Leave it, Alice. Ivy will clean up."
The housekeeper hesitated then returned the empty bottles to the table, her face flushed as she soundlessly exited the room.
Peter turned and faced Ivy from where he now stood, across the room.
"I'm sorry," she said, still sitting on the floor and now rocking back and forth with her arms wrapped around herself. "We were working on my program, and I wanted to surprise you tonight with a new dialect module I put together - "
"You have to go."
" - and I wanted to demonstrate it when you walked in, so you would be happy."
"I said leave."