Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes
"I call this meeting to order." Jim Carlucci raised a ballpoint pen and brought it down against the table with a solemn tap. For one glorious second, the room was silent. Then someone groaned. Jim's moustache twitched.
It was an impressive moustache, really. Full and carefully groomed, with the ends curling just enough to suggest that Jim regarded facial hair as an art form rather than a matter of ordinary grooming. He wore it with the confidence of a man who had long ago accepted that people were going to comment on it and had decided to enjoy himself anyway. A slow smile spread beneath it.
"Thank you, Mr. Secretary," Merry said. She was already fighting a smile herself. Jim straightened in his chair.
"Why do I feel like I'm at a 4-H meeting?" Merry quipped. She pulled her chestnut hair into a low pony and secured it with the scrunchy she wore on her wrist.
"Robert's Rules of Order, that's why," Marti Anderson said.
Her delivery was so dry that it took a moment for everyone to realize she'd made a joke. Merry glanced at her. Marti's expression hadn't changed.
There it was—the tiny flicker at the corner of her mouth. Merry laughed.
The lounge settled again, chairs creaking and coffee mugs shifting across the long wooden table. Outside, somewhere beyond the windows, a horse gave a short, impatient whinny. The sound was so ordinary that nobody paid much attention to it. This was the farm. There was always a horse complaining about something.
Merry looked around the table. These people were, in one way or another, her responsibility.
That thought could be comforting on some days. On others, it was terrifying.
There were her coaches, several boarders, a couple of students, and the people who had been around the farm long enough that they had become part of its unofficial furniture. She knew who would show up early, who would forget appointments, who would leave brushes in the wash rack, and who could be trusted with a frightened horse.
She also knew who was going to complain about what she was about to announce. Her eyes briefly landed on Kate Smith. Right on schedule, Kate was already wearing the expression. Merry suppressed a sigh.
"But seriously, thank you all for coming today." She folded her hands on the table. "I like to keep everyone abreast of changes at the farm, and we have a big one coming up."
That got everyone's attention. Even Jim lowered his pen. Merry allowed herself a small smile. "We're getting a coach for driving."
There was a beat of stunned silence. Then Carl Buckley whooped.
"Oh, finally!" Deanna Chen clapped her hands together.
Merry laughed. Carl looked positively delighted. His greying hair was slightly disheveled, as usual, and his weathered face had suddenly taken on the expression of a child who had just been promised Christmas early. Deanna wasn't much better. Petite and usually composed, she was sitting straighter now, her dark eyes bright with interest. Merry couldn't blame them.
Driving was one of those disciplines that attracted people who were either deeply committed or slightly crazy. Sometimes both. Finding a genuinely good coach was difficult enough. Finding one who could teach at a high level, attract students, and fit into the eccentric ecosystem of the farm was another matter entirely.
She hoped Eddie Munro would be all three.
"Eddie Munro is going to be joining us as the new combined driving coach," she said. "He'll be coming next month and moving into Barn B." Another ripple went around the table. "I've already had inquiries from people interested in boarding."
That got even more attention. Merry leaned back in her chair and watched the reaction.
There was something satisfying about delivering good news to people who may have spent years listening to barn owners explain why something couldn't be done.
The farm wasn't exactly a major equestrian center. Not yet, anyway. But maybe it could be. Maybe Eddie was the beginning of something bigger.
"Our boarding rates are going to go up, aren't they?" The question came from Kate.
Merry looked at her. Kate's young face was already pinched with worry. She had a talent for finding the one potential negative in any piece of good news. If Merry announced that everyone had won a million dollars, Kate would probably be the first to ask whether taxes had been taken out.
"Not in the foreseeable future," Merry said tartly. "But Eddie is an international-quality competitor who plans on giving driving clinics at the farm. He should bring a lot of business our way."
Kate nodded cautiously, as though Merry had just negotiated a ceasefire rather than answered a question about boarding fees.
"Good driving coaches are few and far between," Deanna said. There was no mistaking the enthusiasm in her voice. "I'm excited."
"I know." Merry smiled at her. She knew Deanna had been waiting for an opportunity like this. For some of the people at the table, Eddie was simply a new employee. For Deanna, he represented possibilities.
New students. Better training. Driving competitions.
She looked around the room again. Riverside's lounge was warm and slightly shabby, comfortable in the way that only a place used every day could be. There were scuff marks on the floor, tack catalogues piled beside the old sofa, and a coffee mug someone had forgotten on the windowsill. The faint smell of leather and hay clung to everything. It wasn't glamorous.
But it was theirs.
"So is Fritz," Merry said. She couldn't help laughing. Her son had been almost unbearably excited ever since she'd told him about Eddie. Almost unbearably.
Merry loved Fritz dearly, but there were days when his ADHD seemed to provide him with enough energy for three children. When he became interested in something, he didn't simply become interested. He became completely, spectacularly, overwhelmingly interested. Eddie Munro had apparently become the center of his universe before they'd even met.
Fritz had already asked whether Eddie had ever driven a four-in-hand. Whether Eddie would be able to find him a groom. Whether Eddie had tall horses or short horses. Whether Barn B had enough room for all Eddie's equipment. Whether Eddie would let him watch.
Whether—
Merry had finally told him to breathe. She'd caught him later standing outside Barn B, staring at it as though he expected Eddie to materialize out of thin air. Now, thinking about it, she smiled. "So is Fritz," she repeated.
Carl chuckled. "That boy's going to wear Eddie out."
"Probably," Merry said. She paused. "Although I'm not entirely sure which one of them is going to wear the other one out first."
A few people laughed. Merry joined them, but a small, private thought lingered beneath the amusement. This could be good. Not just for the farm. For Fritz, too.
He needed something that could hold his attention without requiring him to fight the way his mind worked. Something physical. Something complicated. Something that demanded patience and concentration but rewarded curiosity. Driving might be exactly that.
Or it might be a spectacular disaster. With Fritz, either was possible.
Merry glanced around the table again. For the first time that morning, she wondered whether anyone else realized quite how much the arrival of Eddie Munro might change things. Probably not. And maybe that was for the best.
For now, at least, it was simply a new coach moving into Barn B. Another new beginning.
And, knowing her farm, probably a new source of trouble.
(1260 words)