A Time to Mend by Sally John Page A

she had to ask permission to see her own hus-band. Millions of dollars in sales had made him inaccessible.
    Someone emerged now from the building. A young woman. Attractive, with shoulder-length blonde hair. She grinned and glanced over her shoulder.
    Max was on her heels.
    They stood together on the sidewalk, conversing, laughing. Max touched her forearm.
    Tandy said somebody was going to sue him someday. Claire doubted it. He was too endearing. Women loved him.
    Max gave the stranger a quick, one-armed hug, and then he went back inside as she walked away.
    The whole thing lasted only three minutes, but waves of fear and anger gushed through Claire.
    No way was she going inside.
    Unable to either get out of the car or drive away, Claire just sat and waited for the pain to subside. She hadn’t always despised the business. Beaumont Staffing truly was a dream come true. Max’s dream, first of all, but he welcomed her to join him in it.
    Thirty-three years ago next month, she and Max had found the office space. Back then it had been small and unassuming. But it had grown up along with the palm trees around the lot. The entrance doors were now double ones and led into an expanded version of the original area. Plate-glass windows revealed a busy lobby. A large sign sat atop the walkway overhang. Beaumont Staffing—The Door to Your Future. Royal blue lettering and silver designs. Overall the effect was warm and welcoming.
    Had they been crazy or what? They’d planned to save the world one person at a time by finding them employment. Caution never entered their minds. With wild abandonment, they signed a year’s lease on this very office. She remembered the owner’s bewilderment, how he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe he had agreed to such generous terms.
    It was all Max, of course. She knew firsthand the force of his personality. It was infectious. She hadn’t been able to get enough of him. Eight months after the lunacy of love at first sight, she eloped with him, eager to be his wife and his business partner, forever and ever.
    Tears burned, and she pressed her lips together to keep from cry-ing. What had happened to them?
    “Claire?”
    Startled at the voice calling out her name, Claire turned toward the window and saw Neva, longtime employee at Beaumont Staffing. The woman moved in her direction, skirting several parked vehicles.
    Claire’s muscles tensed. Her tears vanished, and she arranged her expression into something more neutral: not quite friendly, not quite cold.
    Steeling herself like that was an old, habitual response to Neva. There were obvious reasons for it. Neva was everything Claire was not: petite and cute and bilingual with an intriguing accent. And Max’s business partner.
    Neva reached the empty slot next to Claire’s car and removed her sunglasses. “Hi. How are you?”
    “Okay.” Her smiled faltered. “You know.”
    “Yeah.”
    “How are you?”
    “Concerned for you and Max.” Neva’s eyes glistened.
    That was the other thing about Neva that bugged Claire. She could be so kind. It made it difficult to unabashedly dislike her.
    “Thanks,” she said.
    “Are you coming inside?”
    “I . . . Max and I . . .” She shrugged. Ten days had passed since they’d last talked. There were household details needing attention, new roles to be determined, boundaries to explore. No wonder she’d been sitting in the hot car for half an hour. She’d forgotten how to throw caution to the wind and embrace the unknown.
    “Yeah,” Neva said again, as if she totally understood Claire’s di-lemma. “Do you have time for coffee?” She nodded toward a Starbucks at one end of the mall.
    Claire’s muscles relaxed a little. She didn’t mind delaying her en-counter with Max, even if it meant hanging out with Neva. “Sure.”
    T hey sat at a corner table and sipped iced Americanos.
    Claire asked, “Does Max still avoid this place?”
    “You mean like the plague?” Neva chuckled. “No. He