She appeared now in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron.
She was a small, voluminous Spanish woman with pulled-back black
hair and a gorgeous smile. "Hello, Mr. Petey," she said with
plain affection. She turned to the young girl. "I finished
preparing your meat and spices." Peter looked at Alice for an
explanation, and she nodded to Ivy.
"I'm making you a special Mediterranean dish tonight," Ivy said,
taking Peter's hands in hers. "My way of saying thanks, for being
so kind and letting me stay here with you."
"Great," he said, and casually withdrew his hands.
Usually it started out, as it had a number of times before, as a
rent-free working environment. Peter received both pleasure and
satisfaction from being around artists and other creative types
who crafted amazing things from the technology he had invented.
Except for his work and Kate, when she was in town, his life was
surprisingly spare. Having the students in his home filled the
spacious mansion with the lives and passionate works of others.
And with little effort, he was helpful to them. In several cases
the projects they worked on became marketable products, and
sometimes he nurtured them in getting started as software or
hardware developers by introducing them to the appropriate
managers at Wallaby. But to some of the students, staying at
Peter's became more than just a neat place to crash.
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