Yank turned and blinked. Susannah, who had been unpacking a box of parts when Sam's mother had burst in, watched in astonishment as a smile slowly spread over his face. 'Hi, Angela.'
At the age of forty-two, Angela Gamble was slim and small. Only an inch over five feet tall, she was pretty despite her gaudiness, and fiercely engaged in a battle against encroaching middle age. She stretched up onto her tiptoes and planted a solid kiss on Yank's mouth. Then she slapped him across the face even harder than she had slapped her son. 'That's for all the trouble you
Yank rubbed his cheek absent-mindedly, gave her another smile-this one a bit vague-and reached for his logic probe.
She turned to Susannah. 'Hi, honey. I'm Angela Gamble. You Sammy's new girlfriend?'
Susannah stepped forward and introduced herself.
Angela gazed at her curiously. 'You look so familiar to me. Sammy, why does she look so familiar?'
Sam, busy sorting capacitors, said offhandedly, 'She looks like that actress we saw on PBS a couple of months ago.'
'I never watch PBS. I can't stand foreign accents. It's your hair. I don't ever forget a hairstyle. Not too many women still wear it in a bun like that.'
Susannah felt vaguely apologetic. 'I don't always wear it like this. Sometimes I wear it down.'
'I'd take some of that weight out of it if I were you. Cut it just below your jaw line. Soften it with long layers so it stays full but isn't fussy. You don't look like the fussy type.'
Her suggestions were delivered so good-naturedly, Susannah couldn't take offense. 'I'll consider it.'
Angela's scrutiny continued. 'What did you say your last name was again?'
'Faulconer,' she said hesitantly.
Angela looked thoughtful for a moment and then she let out a squeal. 'I don't believe it! I read a story about you in the newspaper, didn't I? You're the daughter of that big shot. You're the one who ran away from her wedding! Ohmygod! Sammy, do you know who this is? This is Susannah Faulconer. She was getting married to this guy, and then right in the middle of this swank society wedding this other guy shows up on a Harley and-' She stopped in mid-sentence. Her jaw dropped as her eyes flew from Susannah to Sam. 'Oh my God,' she said breathlessly. 'Oh my God! It was you!'
Without warning, she began to squeal in delight and pound her heels up and down on the concrete floor like a pint-sized flamenco dancer. 'Sammy! I should have known. When I read that story, I got this shiver up my spine. I should have known right then. You're just like your old man! God, if he could only hear about this one.'
Sam stiffened. Then he stepped forward. 'Susannah is staying with me for a while.'
'That's great! Oh, that's just great! If I'd known about this, I would have come back last week. Vegas was dead anyway. The town just isn't the same when Elvis isn't headlining. And then I had to listen to Audrey going on and on about how fat he's gotten. Fat or not, the King is still the King.'
Sam interrupted abruptly. 'You feel like making some spaghetti or something? I know it's late, but we're all pretty hungry.'
Susannah looked at him curiously. She had just offered to make him something to eat, but he had refused.
'Sure, baby.' Angela gave him another slap on the jaw and hugged Susannah. 'You stay as long as you like, honey. And if Sammy gives you any trouble, you tell me about it. Between the two of us, we'll keep him in line.' She jingled-jangled as she left the garage.
Susannah moved into Angela's sewing room that same night, despite the fact that Sam's mother had made it more than clear that she wasn't a prude. Susannah's desertion upset Sam, and he gave her another lecture about how uptight she was, but she was incapable of sharing his bed while his mother slept on the other side of the hall. They weren't married. They weren't engaged. They hadn't even discussed the possibility.
The next morning Angela caught her in the kitchen before Sam was awake. 'Come on, honey,' she said. 'We're going to do something about that bun.'
Ignoring Susannah's protests, Angela propelled her out to the garage and pushed her down in the shampoo chair.
For the next twenty minutes, Angela chattered as her silver scissors snipped, snipped, snipped. She cut Susannah's hair in long, fluffy layers, lifting the length so that the ends no longer quite touched her shoulders. She could still put her hair in a French twist or pile it on top of her head, but now feathery tendrils softened the angular lines of her face and curled along her neck. The style wasn't so different that she felt uncomfortable, but much looser and more untidy than anything she had ever worn. She knew that Cal Theroux wouldn't have approved of the change, but she felt as if she had been freed from an old, burdensome weight.
Sam rolled over in bed and reached out for Susannah. He frowned as he realized she wasn't there. He didn't like it when she slipped out of bed before he got up, before he could enjoy the feeling of her bottom pressed into his stomach and inhale the light floral scent of her hair. Sometimes he propped himself next to her and watched her sleep. She was always tightly curled, with her knees drawn up and her clasped hands pressed beneath her chin. There was something sad about the way she slept, as if she were trying to compress herself into a target so small that the demons of the world would fail to notice her.
He got out of bed and, after a quick shower, went to the garage, where he found her in the beauty shop with his mother. Both were so engrossed in studying Susannah's new hairstyle in the mirror that they didn't see him standing in the doorway. As he watched them, he wished that some of Susannah's class would rub off on his mother.
As usual, being near Angela made him tense. Why couldn't she be like other mothers? Why did she have to dress like a hooker and decorate her house like the world's worst garage sale? When he was a teenager, she had flirted with all of his friends, humiliating him in a way that he still couldn't forgive. She had no taste, no class, and no interest in acquiring either one. On the other hand, she had been his relentless defender through all the battles of his childhood. When the world seemed to be crashing around him, she had stood up to his father, to school officials, and to anyone else she believed was harming her son.
Susannah lifted her head and caught sight of him in the mirror. His chest expanded with pride. He had wanted this elegant woman, and now she was his. The thrill of conquest beat like a drum in his brain. She was going to make all the difference in his life. Her stillness would calm him and help him focus his energy. Her breeding would soften his rough edges. Her grace and timeless beauty would expand him in the eyes of others. With Susannah at his side, life no longer held any limits for him.
Her eyebrows drew together, and he realized that she was waiting for his reaction to her new haircut. He loved the way his opinion mattered to her. Just as he opened his mouth to tell her how terrific she looked, Angela interrupted.
'What do you think, Sammy? I haven't lost my touch, have I?'
Without a word he turned away from his mother and went back into the garage. As he reached the workbench, Susannah came through the doorway, her gray eyes regarding him with solemn intensity. Jeezus, it was sweet to have a woman like her look at him that way.
She frowned, and he realized that his failure to comment on her hair had made her mad. She pushed back her shoulders and set her jaw, practically daring him to make a derogatory remark. He almost laughed. She was learning. All he'd had to do was point the way, and she'd caught on real fast.
He reached out and took her into his arms. 'It looks great.'
Her annoyance fell away, and she beamed with pleasure. 'You really like it?'
'Yeah, I really do.' He kissed her fiercely. She leaned into him just like always and moaned softly against his mouth. Reluctantly, he drew away.
She sighed and looked over at the boxes of parts. 'You're going to put me to work now, aren't you?'
'I promise you can take a coffee break sometime next week.'
She laughed, and then, together, they settled down to begin the laborious process of assembling forty single- board computers.
The task involved 'stuffing' every one of the printed circuit boards by hand. Sam showed her how to insert the wires on each of the small components through tiny holes in the copper pathways that ran through the circuit board. After all the components were in position, each wire had to be permanently soldered to the board and clipped. The job was both monotonous and demanding. If everything wasn't done exactly to specifications, he made her do it again.
When Susannah had finished assembling a board, Sam tested it and then put it in a long wooden 'burn-in' box
