A Time to Mend (40 page)
Max looked at his parents and felt a rush of gratitude. They were obviously older than they’d been before the fire, and not just by ten weeks. The experience had sapped their strength. But at least they recognized it. Their new willingness to receive help somehow made it easier for him to love them.
Which was one reason he and Claire could do what they wanted to do.
Max pushed back his chair, tapped his water goblet with a spoon, and stood.
Claire caught his eye and smiled. Eventually conversations stopped, and everyone turned toward him.
“My sweetheart and I have some news.”
“Yow!” Erik shouted, cupping his hands over Felicia’s ears. “Sorry. They’re getting so embarrassingly sappy.”
Lexi groaned. “Dad, please don’t talk like that when Zak gets here.”
Claire laughed.
“Moving right along.” Max settled his expression into one of serious business. “I have an emergency meeting in Fresno tomorrow, and I hate that I have to leave tonight, but these things can’t always be helped.” Fierce glares bombarded him. “What? Did somebody just die?”
“Max.” The sight of Claire’s ashen face promptly ended his joke.
“Sorry, guys,” he said. “Just kidding.”
“Not funny, Dad.” Erik frowned.
“Right. Got it.” He gazed at his eldest, overwhelmed with a deep desire to make it all up to the little boy who must have felt abandoned by his dad. When had he nicknamed Max “The Putz”? Ages ago, and deservedly so. “Actually, Erik, somebody did die. The Putz died. At least I hope he did, anyway.”
Erik glanced away.
“Okay, moving right along again.” He turned to his parents. “Mom and Dad, Claire and I have something to propose. What do you think about us working with you and reopening the Hacienda Hideaway? We’d like to run it.”
For a moment no one reacted.
Then his mother grinned. His dad coughed. The kids burst out with a dozen questions.
Max held up a hand. “We want this to be our full-time job. From remodeling to advertising it as a safe harbor to taking care of the guests. We want to sell this house and move into the hacienda.”
His dad coughed again, harder. It sounded like a choke.
“Dad, you all right?”
Ben waved his hand, and Indio chuckled. “What a wonderful solution! That Realtor woman is coming over tomorrow. Was. Ben, we have to tell her not to bother. We have other plans.”
Ben cleared his throat. “But, Max, you’ve never been the least bit interested in the place. You think you want to take care of guests instead of clients? These people can be downright weird. And, Claire, you’d wear yourself out driving into the city for all your activities.”
Max felt an old familiar twist in his gut.
Claire, however, beamed. “The thing is, we want a brand-new start. We don’t just want a project to do together. We want a life to live together, a life in service to other people. First of all to you, Ben and Indio, and then to as many weird guests that God sees fit to bring into our safe harbor. Will you help us do that? Will you teach us how to do that?”
Indio said, “Hallelujah.”
Ben harrumphed. “Not to hurt anybody’s feelings, but if I wanted to live in a nursing home, I’d check myself in. I’m old, and I like my quiet and my open space. I don’t want to mess with a retreat center and grumpy guests anymore.”
Suddenly Max intuited what his father was saying. “Okay, Dad. How about Claire and I mess with it? You answer our questions, give us advice. Now and then. We live in the hacienda; you and Mom live somewhere else if you like. I’ll build you a bungalow way down the lane or out behind a new barn.”
Ben squinted at him.
Time felt suspended. Max held his breath.
At last Ben spoke. “I’m not taking any greenhorns out horseback riding.”
“Nope.”
He gave a quick nod. “Deal.”
“Okay, deal. How about the rest of you?”
“Wait!” his mother said. “I’d like a turn.”
“Sorry, Mom.”
“Ben,” Indio said, “just because you’re antisocial doesn’t mean I am. Claire, can I help more than just now and then?”
She smiled. “Of course. You and Paquita can still have full rein in the kitchen if you want. You can definitely be in on everything. I will be a total fish out of water in this endeavor.”
“All right.” Indio grinned like a little girl. “The place really was getting to be a bit too much for us.”
Max returned her wink. “Now how about you all? Erik, Lexi, Danny, Jenna, Kevin. Felicia, feel free to jump in too.” He looked around the room, into their eyes one at a time. “Will you give us your support? Will you allow your mother and me to start over?”
They exchanged glances with each other.
Jenna said, “You mean we have to drive an extra thirty minutes if we want to see you?”
Danny added, “And call you on a land line? Man, oh man. That’s asking a lot.”
Jenna smiled.
Kevin gave a thumbs-up.
Even Felicia nodded.
Erik’s expression remained frozen in neutral.
The kid was a hard nut to crack. Best to give him some time and just go with majority rule for now. Where was Lexi’s vote?
Her mouth twisted.
Claire interpreted it faster than he could. “Hon,” she said, “we need you to do the landscaping.”
“You’d want to hire a firm. You need more than me and José and a few gardeners.”
Max said, “No. We want you and whoever you want to hire.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Well. Um, I’m like Papa. I love my space. Sometimes I don’t even care to talk while I work.”
“Not a problem.”
Lexi smiled.
Max returned the smile.
Claire sighed. “Thank you. Thank you all. We love you. Okay, who’s ready for pie?”
“Sweetheart.”
All four of his children groaned in unison.
“Deal with it,” he said. “Sweetheart, dearest Claire, I’m not quite finished.”
Max walked around the table to her, pulled a jeweler’s ring box from his pocket, and knelt on one knee in front of her. His heart ka-booming like a huge kettledrum in his chest, he laid the black velvet box in her palm.
A
s Max set the ring box in her hand, Claire fought back a nauseating wave of defeat. It pounded in her head, thundered down into her chest, and rumbled in her stomach.
Since their reconciliation had first begun on that rocky overlook at the ocean six weeks ago, Claire had felt similar reactions. Besides frustration, she battled fears, anger, distrust, and outright panic. At least twice she seriously considered throwing in the towel. Things were not going to work between them.
The assaults came in response to things he said, did, or didn’t do. Sometimes she told him about her reactions, and together they pressed on, working out who or what was at fault, figuring out whether those reactions were groundless or not. Some things, she understood, would simply have to be accepted. Some things were based on old thought patterns that she should put to death.
They had discussed the expensive gift thing. He disagreed with her aversion to them. He said they were expressions of love; she said they were guilt offerings and brought to mind all those times he had hurt her and then given her a gift, as if that would erase the pain. He hadn’t presented her with one again . . . until now. Why now? It had been a perfect Thanksgiving Day in every way.
They’d just announced they were starting over. She and Max had spent weeks analyzing what it meant. It meant selling their home. It meant living off of the proceeds. It meant sinking the money made from the sale of Beaumont Staffing into the Hacienda Hideaway, a break-even venture in a good month. And there wouldn’t even be a chance at a good month until they opened for business, which at best might happen a year from now. It meant seeing each other every day. It meant a whole bunch of unknown. It meant—
“Claire.” Max angled his head almost onto her lap to make eye contact. “Open it. You’ll be surprised, I promise.”
The soft expression in those brown-black eyes did a number on her. Her heart physically ached. Tandy said it was that part she’d closed off from Max years ago. She said it would hurt for a while whenever he got close enough to touch it.
“Trust me,” he whispered.
That was her problem, of course. She didn’t.
But she so wanted to.
She tilted back the lid.
Nothing sparkled up at her. “Hmm.”
Stuck in the slot where a ring should have been was a tiny, folded piece of yellow paper. She pulled it out and carefully opened it.
Sweetheart . . .
The slanted block print was Max’s.
Will you marry me again?
“Oh,” she breathed.
He grinned at her. “Is that a yes or a no?”
“It’s a definite . . . maybe.”
“Huh?” The grin vanished.
“Well-l-l . . .” She rolled her eyes, true Jenna style.
“Mom,” Erik said, “collective bated breath here.”
Max whipped around, his eyes mere slits.
“The thing is . . .” she said.
He looked back at her.
She smoothed away the wrinkles on his forehead. “The thing is . . . the last time we did this, we went to Las Vegas. Our friends weren’t there. Your parents weren’t there. I wore blue jeans. Elvis stayed in the motel room next to ours. Two days later, we opened the office.”
“You’re right. Well, we can try, sweetheart, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to duplicate all of that.”
Claire’s giggle started somewhere deep inside. It tickled her from toes to head and burst out in an uncontrollable belly laugh. Her husband understood her. He loved her. He really and truly loved her!
Max kissed her hand. “Is that a yes?”
She wiped tears of joy from her eyes. “Yes, that is a yes. I will marry you again.”
A cheer went up around the table. Then someone mentioned pie. Chairs scraped and dishes clattered and conversations ensued.
Amid the hubbub, Max and Claire didn’t move.
“Do you want a church?” he asked.
“Mm-hmm. And Jenna and Lexi as bridesmaids. Your mom and dad to give me away. The boys to stand up with you. A big party afterward.”
“It’s all yours.”
She smiled. “Let’s invite that social columnist from the newspaper. It’ll be our grand farewell. ‘Old, Already-Married Beaumonts Host Their Own Do-over Wedding.’”
He chuckled. “What would Emily Post say?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care. But think of the free advertising for the Hideaway.”
“Are you turning businesswoman on me?”
“Maybe.” She paused. “Max, I want to be the perfect partner for you this time.”
“All I want you to be is first fiddle in my heart and in real life.”
“I think you just put me there.”
“You always should have been there.” He stroked her cheek. “I promise, from now on, you always will be.”
She leaned over and kissed him. “Then I’ll always be at home, safe and sound.”
T
he real writing always happens behind the scenes. Without the help of family, friends, and business associates, my stories wouldn’t even begin to happen. It is a privilege to give thanks to:
Gary Smalley, my wise and gracious coauthor. Long before I had words to portray a picture of emotional safety in marriage, he was teaching the concept in practical terms. His insight into relation-ships added a rich depth to these characters and continues to make an impact on my life.
Lee Hough, my agent who doesn’t quit and doesn’t let me quit. He coaches me far beyond my writing comfort zone.
Elizabeth John, my right-hand woman in this project—researcher, editor, proofreader, idea-bouncer, daughter, and friend.
Joey Paul, Ami McConnell, Natalie Hanemann, and Leslie Peterson, the professionals who made it all come together.
Tracy John, my reader of early drafts and advisor—quite a gift of a daughter-in-law.
Dave and Amy Wilhite, Peggy Hadacek, and Karlie Garcia, my technical consultants who were there at the drop of an e-mail.
Carrie Younce, my writer friend who knows how to read fiction, drink coffee, listen, and encourage beyond measure.
Tim, my husband, who faithfully sailed beside me into our safe harbor.
1. The series title—Safe Harbors
—
refers to the overall series theme: people need relationships in which they feel completely safe, emotionally as well as physically. What do you think a safe harbor looks like? What doesn’t one look like? Do you have one?
2. Why does Claire leave Max? Why now and not sooner? Is it a conscious decision? What’s not right between them?
3. Discuss the consequences of her actions on herself and on others (Max, their children, his parents).
4. Claire has stepped into a season of “tearing.” It precedes one of “mending” (Ecclesiastes 3:7). As her life falls apart, deep needs and deep wounds are revealed. She must address these issues before she can move forward in her relationship with Max. What are those needs and hurts? How are those needs filled and wounds healed?
5. Have you experienced seasons of “tearing” and “mending”?
6. How do you relate emotionally to the women? Claire, her marriage, her loss of self? Indio and her regrets as a mother? Jenna trying to define her role as wife? Mother, daughter, and in-law relationships?
7. Eventually Max’s wounds are also revealed. Discuss the hurts that stem from situations with his parents and his brother. How has he coped with them in the past? Why is he able to “go there” at this point in his life?
8. In what ways have Max and Claire built walls between each other? How have these prevented them from creating emotional safety within their marriage?
9. Claire wants to be first in Max’s life. When he finally “gets it” and sells the business, why can’t she receive this, his supreme act of love? What happens that allows her to receive it?
10. In what ways have you been unable to receive love or forgiveness?
11. What role does faith play in the lives of Claire and Max? It is mentioned that they turned to God early in their marriage. Why did they? What do you imagine happened between then and the time the story opens? How does their faith take on new dimensions by the end of the story?