A Full Table
By the time everyone gathered at Merry's house for dinner, the Buckners had officially declared themselves moved in, although the mountain of unopened boxes across the road suggested that the declaration was somewhat optimistic.
Merry had set the dining room table for ten, using the good plates she had bought shortly after moving into the house. She liked that table enormously. It was broad, sturdy, and long enough to accommodate the sort of cheerful, sprawling dinners she had always enjoyed hosting. Tonight every chair was occupied, and the room was filled with overlapping conversations.
Fritz and Taylor sat together at one end, where they were attempting to explain the finer points of combined driving to Annie, who was mostly interested in whether Scout could pull a carriage suitable for a princess. Rose sat beside Stefi, talking about the horses she hoped to meet, while Otto had found himself drafted into answering questions about the farm's enormous indoor arena.
"So," Annie said, turning toward him, "if you babysat us again, would we get to stay here?"
Otto considered the question.
"I don't think babysitting works like that."
"But could we?"
"Probably."
"Could we sleep in the barn?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because horses aren't especially good roommates."
"Scout would be."
"Scout would eat your pillow if it had hay on it."
Annie frowned thoughtfully, apparently considering whether this was a risk she was prepared to take. Across the table, Paula leaned toward Merry.
"Your kids have grown up."
"They do that."
"I know, but it's rude. I remember when Fritz was running around my backyard with a plastic sword, trying to convince Taylor that they needed to dig a moat."
"He wanted to divert your sprinkler system into it."
"And David caught them with a shovel."
"I remember."
Paula smiled at the children, then looked back at Merry.
"Stefi's turning into a beautiful young woman. And Otto—my God. He looks like a grown man."
"Don't tell him that. He'll become insufferable."
"He's always been a little old man."
"He's sixteen."
"Exactly. Practically forty."
Merry laughed, and Eddie, seated beside her, glanced up from his plate.
"Who's practically forty?"
"Otto," Paula replied.
Eddie nodded solemnly. "Aye. He's older than the rest of us put together some mornings."
"I heard that," Otto said.
"I intended you to, lad."
Otto rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.
David reached for the breadbasket and passed it to Rose before turning to Eddie. "Paula tells me you play in a band."
"Aye, when time allows."
"She enjoyed hearing you play."
"So she told me. Several times, as I recall."
Paula laughed. "Well, you were good!"
"I appreciate that."
"And David plays a little piano," Paula added.
David shook his head modestly. "Very little, these days."
"Don't let him fool you," Paula said. "He plays beautifully. He just doesn't like anybody knowing it."
Eddie smiled. "We'll have to find an excuse to play together sometime."
"I'd enjoy that," David said.
Merry watched the easy conversation with pleasure. She had known David for years, of course, and she was glad to see that he and Eddie seemed comfortable with one another. They were very different men in many respects, but both had the quiet self-assurance of people who knew their work thoroughly and had no particular need to advertise the fact.
David reached for the breadbasket again before turning to Merry. "I really must thank you. This is quite an opportunity for us."
"I'm delighted you're here."
"And I think Paula's going to be very happy."
"I already am," Paula said.
David smiled at her. "I know."
There was a quiet affection between them that Merry had always admired. Paula was spirited, outspoken, and sometimes gloriously unreasonable; David possessed a serene patience that might have seemed excessive in another man but suited him perfectly. Their marriage had never struck Merry as a case of opposites attracting so much as two people who had discovered exactly how to balance one another.
She glanced at Eddie, who was listening to Fritz explain something about the geometry of cones, and smiled to herself.
Later, after dinner had been cleared away and the children had drifted toward the living room, Merry found herself alone with Paula in the kitchen.
David and Eddie were carrying the last of the Buckners' bags out to the SUV, while Stefi and Rose had gone upstairs to look at Stefi's room. Otto had been commandeered by Annie to explain the television remote, and Fritz and Taylor were sitting cross-legged on the living room floor amid a growing collection of notebooks and diagrams.
Paula stood beside the counter holding a mug of coffee. She watched Merry put the last clean plates away, then glanced toward the doorway.
"So."
Merry kept her back turned. "So what?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Merry Vollmer."
Merry smiled into the cupboard. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, sure you don't."
Paula took another sip of coffee and leaned against the counter. "Well, I see things are going pretty well with Mr. Tall, Scottish, and Handsome."
Merry laughed. "You're never going to let me forget that night, are you?"
"Are you kidding? I was right about him, wasn't I?"
"You said he was cute."
"He is cute. That was a perfectly reasonable observation."
"You told me about eleven times."
"And you weren't listening."
"I was listening. I was just trying to enjoy the music."
"Sure you were."
Merry shook her head, still smiling. Paula had always been capable of making her laugh, even during the worst periods of her life. It was one of the things she treasured most about their friendship.
Paula's expression softened. "Seriously, though. How are you two doing?"
"Good." Merry set down her dish towel and leaned against the counter.
"Yeah?"
"Yes. Really good, actually."
Paula waited, giving her room to elaborate.
"It's still new," Merry admitted. "We're figuring things out. Having him living here is different from having him come over for dinner or stay the night. There are all these little things you don't think about until somebody's actually sharing your house."
"Like what?"
"Like the fact that he drinks tea at the most extraordinary hours, and apparently owns more pairs of boots than I do."
Paula laughed.
"Well, he's Scottish and he works with horses. What did you expect?"
"Not quite so many boots. Or shoes, for that matter."
"And the kids?"
"Fritz is delighted. He'd probably adopt Eddie if he could. Stefi's pleased, too. Otto's taking his time."
"Otto would."
"Yes. He's worried about me."
"He's a good kid."
"He is."
Merry glanced toward the kitchen doorway, through which the low murmur of the children's voices drifted.
"It's different," she admitted. "All of it. The farm, the house, the kids. Everything. There are still mornings when I wake up and can't quite believe this is my life."
"I can imagine."
"Karsten would never have believed it."
Paula smiled a little. "No, he probably wouldn't."
Merry glanced down at her hands.
"I think he'd have liked the place, though."
"He would have loved the horses."
"Yes."
"And he'd have complained about how much work you'd taken on."
Merry laughed softly. "He would have."
Paula took a sip of coffee and considered her for a moment.
"Listen, Mare. I knew Karsten, and I liked him. You know that."
"I know."
"But you don't owe anybody the rest of your life being lonely."
Merry looked up.
"I'm not lonely anymore," she said.
Paula's face softened. "Good."
There was no elaborate speech, no searching examination of whether Merry was ready, no suggestion that she owed anyone an explanation. Paula had known Karsten, had loved him as a friend, and had been there through some of the worst months of Merry's life. Perhaps that was why her simple acceptance meant so much.
Merry smiled. "Thank you."
Paula reached across the counter and squeezed her hand. "Besides," she said, "the man's got excellent manners, he knows horses, and he's easy on the eyes. I don't see the problem."
Merry burst out laughing. "You're impossible."
"Always have been."
"David's a saint."
"David knew what he was getting into."
"He certainly did."
Paula looked around the kitchen, taking in the spacious counters, the warm light, and the sounds of the children in the next room.
"You know," she said thoughtfully, "I was a little worried about coming here."
Merry looked at her in surprise. "You were?"
"Not about the job. That's a dream. And not about you, either. I just wondered how the kids would take it. Uprooting them, moving them all the way across the country. Taylor especially. Thirteen isn't exactly the easiest age to start over."
"They seem happy."
"They do, don't they?"
From the living room came Fritz's excited voice. "No, no, look! If you turn it this way, the whole obstacle works better, because then you don't have to make that stupid extra circle!"
Taylor said something in response, and both of them collapsed into laughter.
Paula smiled. "I don't think I've heard Taylor laugh like that in months."
Merry glanced toward the doorway. "Fritz hasn't been this excited about anything since Eddie let him drive the pair."
"Well, there you go."
They stood together for a little while, enjoying the familiar comfort of each other's company. Merry had missed this more than she realized: the freedom to share a room with Paula without constantly feeling the need to fill the silence, the pleasure of knowing that her friend understood much of what she was thinking without requiring an explanation. Then Paula set down her empty mug.
"All right. Tomorrow I'm gonna get into that barn and see what you've actually got for dressage horses."
"There's a very nice group."
"There'd better be."
"And David can start sorting out the lesson schedule with Nora."
"He'll love that. Give the man a spreadsheet and he's happy for days."
Merry laughed. "Paula?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm really glad you're here."
Paula looked at her, and for once there was no joke waiting on her lips.
"Me, too, honey."
She put an arm around Merry's shoulders and gave her a brief, comfortable squeeze.
"Just think," she added. "If you need me, all you have to do is walk across the road."
"And if you need me?"
"I'll call first. I'm not stupid. I know you've got a handsome Scotsman living here."
Merry groaned. "Paula!"
Her friend laughed. "All right, all right. I'll behave."
They were still laughing when David and Eddie returned to the kitchen, both looking faintly amused.
"I think," David announced, "that Fritz and Taylor are planning to build a model of the entire farm."
Paula closed her eyes.
"Oh, for the love of—"
"They've already measured the dining room table," David continued. "Apparently it's the ideal size."
Merry looked toward the doorway.
"Fritz!"
"WHAT?"
"You're not building Riverside Farm on my dining room table!"
There was a moment's silence. Then Fritz called back, with all the confidence of a boy who had already considered and rejected several alternatives.
"WHAT ABOUT THE GARAGE?"
Paula covered her face with one hand. David laughed. Eddie leaned against the counter, his eyes bright with amusement.
"Aye, well, we'd best get the measuring tape out of there before they start making plans."
"Too late," Merry said. "He knows exactly how big it is."
From the living room came another burst of laughter, followed by Taylor shouting that they needed graph paper. Fritz replied that he had plenty, and Annie announced that she wanted a castle somewhere on the property.
Paula sighed. "Well, at least they're happy."
Merry looked toward the living room, where the children had evidently begun assembling an entire imaginary construction crew, and smiled.
"They are."
Eventually David collected his family, though separating Fritz and Taylor required several increasingly firm reminders that they would see each other again the following morning. Rose hugged Stefi goodbye, Annie extracted a promise from Otto that he would visit soon, and Paula gave Merry one last embrace before following her family out to the SUV.
Merry and Eddie stood together on the porch as the Buckners drove across the road to their new home. The lights came on in the downstairs windows, followed a few minutes later by the upstairs bedrooms, and Merry could just make out the silhouettes of people moving about behind the curtains.
"Happy, Hen?" Eddie asked.
She slipped her hand into his.
"Very."
She left the porch light on that night.
(2082 words)