Something scratches on the ball. A key in a lock. Then the door knocks. Harry and Peggy push apart, she tucks her hair back around her spread-legged eyes and runs heavily to the door and lets in the boys. They are red-faced and furious. “Mom, the fucking thing broke down again,” Billy tells his mother. Nelson looks over at Harry. The boy is near tears. Since Janice left, he is silent and delicate: an eggshell full of tears.

“It wasn’t my fault,” he calls huskily, injustice a sieve in his throat. “Dad, he says it was my fault.”

“You baby, I didn’t say that exactly.”

“You did. He did, Dad, and it wasn’t.”

“All I said was he spun out too fast. He always spins out too fast. He flipped on a loose stone, now the headlight is bent under and it won’t start.”

“If it wasn’t such a cheap one it wouldn’t break all the time.”

“It’s not a cheap one it’s the best one there is almost and anyway you don’t even have any—”

“I wouldn’t take one if you gave it to me—”

“So who are you to talk.”

“Hey, easy, easy,” Harry says. “We’ll get it fixed. I’ll pay for it.”

“Don’t pay for it, Dad. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. It’s just he’s so spoiled.”

“You shrimp,” Billy says, and hits him, much the same way that three weeks ago Harry hit Janice, hard but seeking a spot that could take it. Harry separates them, squeezing Billy’s arm so the kid clams up. This kid is going to be tough some day. Already his arm is stringy.

Peggy is just bringing it all into focus, her insides shifting back from that kiss. “Billy, these things will happen if you insist on playing so dangerously.” To Harry she says, “Damn Ollie for getting it for him, I think he did it to spite me. He knows I hate machines.”

Harry decides Billy is the one to talk to. “Hey. Billy. Shall I take Nelson back home, or do you want him to spend the night anyway?”

And both boys set up a wailing for Nelson to spend the night. “Dad you don’t have to come for me or anything, I’ll ride my bike home in the morning first thing, I left it here yesterday.”

So Rabbit releases Billy’s arm and gives Nelson a kiss somewhere around the ear and tries to find the right eye of Peggy’s to look into. “Okey-doak. I’ll be off.”

She says, “Must you? Stay. Can’t I give you supper? Another drink? It’s early yet.”

“This guy’s waiting,” Rabbit lies, and makes it around her furniture to the door.

Her body chases him. Her vague eyes shine in their tissue-paper sockets, and her lips have that loosened look kissed lips get; he resists the greedy urge to buy another box of Dots. “Harry,” she begins, and seems to fall toward him, after a stumble, though they don’t touch.

“Yeah?”

“I’m usually here. If—you know.”