"Susannah, you're overreacting."
The fact that he was right didn't make her any more conciliatory. She had imagined Mitch fighting at her side forever. Now she realized that might not happen. If at some point Mitch decided that the battle wasn't winnable, he would regroup. And that might very well put him on the other side.
Her fingers closed tightly around the papers she was carrying. "You're either with me or you're against me, Mitch. There's no middle ground. If you're with me, don't waste my time waving yellow flags. And if you're against me-then you'd better stay the hell out of my way, because this is one fight I'm not going to lose."
He slapped down the report he had been reading and stood. "SysVal isn't life and death, Susannah. It's only a company."
"No! It's an adventure." She threw SysVal's Mission Statement in his face, speaking Sam's words from the depth of her heart. '"We have set out together on an adventure to give the world the best computer humankind can produce. We will support and stand by our products, placing quality and integrity above all else. We relish the adventure because it gives us the opportunity to put ourselves to the test of excellence.' I believe it, Mitch. I believe every word."
"Don't confuse rhetoric with real life."
"It's not rhetoric. We have to have standards. Not just as a corporation, but as human beings. Otherwise, we've wasted our lives."
She stalked out the door and down the hallway. The tight bonds of their partnership seemed to be unwinding in front of her. She found herself heading for Yank's lab. It was late, but he would probably still be there. She would only stay a few minutes so she could watch him work. Just a few minutes in Yank's presence would steady her.
Chapter 27
The SysVal town house where Susannah was staying was located at the end of a narrow road and tucked away on a hillside thick with redwood and oak. She had just carried her first cup of Saturday morning coffee out onto the small private patio to enjoy the solitude when she heard her door bell ring. Setting down the cup, she went inside to answer it. As she crossed the small kitchen on her way to the foyer, she found herself hoping it was Mitch. Sometimes he stopped by on Saturday mornings, and she needed a chance to mend her fences with him, especially after their argument last week. But when she opened the door, she found her sister standing on the other side.
"Paige!"
"Don't slobber. It's only been a couple of weeks."
Susannah pulled her sister into the small foyer and gave her a hug. "Long weeks. I missed you."
Paige hung in her arms a moment longer than necessary, then pushed herself away. "Sardinia was a bore. I flew in last night." She tossed the strap of her purse over the banister, then glanced around at the foyer and into the living room. "This place is a dump."
The town house wasn't palatial, but it was hardly a dump.
Even so, Susannah didn't argue. "Temporary housing. I can't find anything I want to buy. How did you find me?"
"I called Mitch. What's wrong with him, anyway? He sounded funny on the phone."
"He was probably in bed with Jacqueline Dane." Susannah was surprised at how sharp she sounded. "Come on into the kitchen. You can fix us some breakfast."
"Me! I'm company."
"I know, but you're a better cook than I am."
Paige grumbled the entire time she was preparing their breakfast, but Susannah noted that she still made the effort to hunt through the shelves for cinnamon to add to the French toast, and that she refused to put the bread slices on the griddle until they had soaked in the egg batter a full ten minutes.
Susannah sank her teeth into the first bite. "Ambrosia. It's almost worth putting up with your nasty temper just to taste your cooking."
Paige ate a few bites, then set down her fork. Her hair tumbled forward, spilling like rumpled silk over the shoulders of her expensive designer blouse. She looked deeply unhappy.
"What's wrong?" Susannah said, putting down her own fork.
"Nothing, really. Nothing and everything. I don't know. What happened between you and that bastard you married was awful, but those weeks in Greece… They were nice, that's all."
Paige wasn't demonstrative, and Susannah knew this was the closest she could get to a statement of affection. "You're right," she said. "They were nice." She toyed with the handle of her fork while she chose her words carefully. "Paige, all that time we were together in Greece, you played the big sister and I got to be the little sister. I loved it. But right now I need to be the big sister again for a few minutes."
"Terrific," Paige said scornfully. "This is just what I need after traveling halfway around the world."
Susannah reached out and cupped her sister's arm. "You have a gift that's in short supply these days, kid. You're a natural-born nurturer. But you keep turning your back on that gift, acting like it's not important. And I think that's why you're so unhappy. Why don't you give yourself a chance?"
"A chance to do what?" she said fiercely. "I don't have a husband or kids. Men are jerks. The ones who aren't gay are sex maniacs."
"Paige, it's 1982. Marriage isn't the only way you can fulfill yourself. Why don't you stop whining about how awful your life is and start looking around you? There are hospitals full of sick children who could use a little of your attention. There are schools that need teacher aides, community centers looking for volunteers."
"I'm one of the richest women in California, Susannah. I can't just call up the Girl Scouts and tell them I want to help sell cookies."
"I don't know why not. Money should give you freedom instead of hemming you in. Figure out for yourself what you want to do and then do it."
Before she could go on, the telephone rang. She went over to the counter to answer it.
"Hi, baby doll. It's me."
At the sound of Angela's voice, Susannah smiled. She was grateful that her estrangement from Sam hadn't marred her relationship with his mother. Angela had changed very little in the past six years. She continued to fight off her birthdays as if each one were a lethal dose of poison, and she was having a high-voltage relationship with a man nine years younger than herself who adored her.
"Sorry to bother you, honey, but I had a broken water pipe in the garage sometime last night-one of the pipes that goes to a shampoo sink. Anyway, a neighbor got the water turned off, but everything's a mess."
Susannah was puzzled. It wasn't like Angela to worry her with household emergencies. She listened as Angela detailed her problems getting a plumber.
"Is there something I can do to help?" she asked.
"I tried to get hold of Sam, but he didn't answer."
If Sam wasn't home this early on a Saturday morning, he obviously hadn't spent the night in his own bed. This time the ache was less noticeable.
Angela went on. "I just thought someone should know about it because of all those computers that are stored on the other side of the wall. I'm afraid the water might have gotten to some of them."
"What computers?"
"The ones Sam sent over a few weeks ago. Part of a new project or something. He was worried about security."
Susannah had no idea what Angela was talking about. Why would Sam be storing SysVal equipment in a garage? She reassured Angela that she would take care of it. They chatted for a few more minutes. Susannah hung up, then began punching in the number of SysVal's switchboard.
Her finger stalled before she completed the call. Something wasn't right.
"Paige, I have to run out for a while. It can't be any fun for you staying alone at Falcon Hill, and there's a perfectly good extra bedroom here. Why don't you pack a suitcase and move in with me for a few weeks?"
"You just want a free housekeeper," Paige grumbled. But Susannah could see that she was pleased with the invitation. By the time she left for Angela's, Paige had started making out a grocery list.
Angela let Susannah into the garage and left to meet a friend in the city. The garage smelled damp from the broken water pipe, but still familiar. A rush of nostalgia came over her as she remembered the hope and excitement of those early days. This part of the garage was now used only for storage. Boxes of beauty supplies took up the shelves that had once held those first SysVal computer boards. The abandoned burn-in box housed crimped rolls of old hairstyle posters. Her eyes swept from the burn-in box to the dusty workbench and then to the wall that divided the beauty shop from the rest of the garage.