Discord

[Merry]

Dinner Party

By six-thirty, the house smelled like rosemary, garlic, and roast chicken. Merry stood at the kitchen island slicing bread while Fritz made his third unauthorized pass through the dining room in his socks.

The kitchen was warm from the oven, the windows darkening with the early evening, and the little cream-colored tiles beneath Merry's feet were pleasantly warm in the spots nearest the range. She was still learning the sounds of the house—the faint click the radiator made when it came on, the particular creak of the floorboard outside the pantry, the way the old refrigerator hummed more loudly when the kitchen was quiet.There were still things about the house that felt new to her.

Not new in the sense of newly built. Quite the opposite. The house had enough age in it to have settled into itself. The woodwork had small imperfections, the floors bore the marks of years of use, and the kitchen tiles weren't perfectly uniform. But it was new to Merry.

She had chosen Riverside and this house after Karsten died. Sometimes she still found herself looking around and remembering that none of these walls had belonged to their life together. The thought could be strangely comforting. Nothing here expected her to be the person she'd been before. She was still making the place hers.

The dining room was one of the rooms she had known almost immediately what she wanted to do with. At its center stood the old table.

It was a substantial piece, dark wood polished smooth with age, with the sort of weight that made it seem as though it had always belonged somewhere. It could seat ten comfortably, which had been the entire point when Merry and Karsten bought it. They had wanted a table large enough for dinner parties—not something precious that required people to sit carefully around it, but something sturdy enough for plates, serving dishes, wine bottles, elbows, laughter, and the occasional child who forgot that furniture wasn't meant to be climbed on.

Tonight six places were set around it, the good plates catching the warm light overhead. A bowl of salad sat near one end, the roast chicken occupied the center, and Merry had put the potatoes and carrots into serving dishes rather than leaving them in the kitchen. She wanted people to linger. She wanted the room to feel like it was being used.

Fritz hit the hardwood at a run and slid nearly the length of it.

"Fritz."

He stopped at the end of the kitchen counter, grinning.

"What?"

"You're going to break your neck." Merry frowned.

"I'm not."

"You almost hit the table."

"I missed it." He was still grinning.

"That isn't the point."

He pushed off again.

"Fritz."

This time he stopped. Mostly. Merry shook her head, trying not to smile. The front door opened.

"Evening," Jim called.

"Kitchen."

A moment later, Jim appeared, followed by Eddie. Eddie had a bottle of wine in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

"Evening, Merry."

His voice did something to her. It was ridiculous.

She had heard that voice in the barn, in the arena, over the phone, explaining harness parts and correcting Fritz's hands. She knew exactly how it sounded when he was teaching and how it changed when he laughed. But hearing him say her name in this house was different. This house was still becoming hers. And somehow, his voice in it made the place feel more settled.

"Hullo."

His eyes held hers for a second longer than necessary. Then he looked away. It was such a small thing that she might have imagined it.

"Thought I'd bring something." He held out the bottle.

"You didn't have to."

"I know."

Their fingers touched when she took it. Neither moved immediately. Merry looked down. Eddie released the bottle first.

"Wine," she said, because apparently she had forgotten how conversation worked.

"Aye."

"I love this wine."

"I remember."

Her eyes lifted. "You remembered?"

"I remember most things you tell me." A faint smile touched his mouth.

Merry's stomach gave a little flip. She turned toward the counter before her face could betray her. "Well. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

There was something almost painfully careful about the exchange. Jim, standing behind Eddie, noticed. Merry knew he noticed because Jim noticed everything.

Fortunately, Fritz saved her. "What'd you bring?"

"Hello to you too." Eddie looked down at the boy.

"What'd you bring?"

"Chocolate cake."

"Really?" Fritz's eyes widened.

"Really."

"Can I see it?"

"After dinner."

"But—"

"That's dessert." Eddie's voice was firm.

Fritz sighed. Eddie smiled. Merry caught the expression. He looked so comfortable here. That was dangerous. She had invited coaches and fellow horsemen to dinner before. There was nothing unusual about having Eddie at the table.

Except that there was.

She was beginning to realize that it wasn't the house that made this feel different. It was him.

Dinner itself was chaos.

The big old table proved its worth almost immediately. Fritz talked across half of it, Otto and Stefi interrupted him from opposite ends, Jim contributed commentary whenever he felt it was necessary, and Eddie somehow managed to keep up with all of them while eating. The room felt warm and full.

For a few minutes, Merry simply watched it. This was what she'd wanted when she'd chosen the table. Not perfection. People. Conversation.

Fritz explained the new horses Eddie was bringing to Riverside, his plans for Scout, his plans for a new pony, his plans for a marathon cart, and finally his plans for eventually driving four-in-hand. Eddie listened to every word.

"Could I drive four someday?"

"Someday," Eddie said.

"At what age?"

"That's not really the question."

"What is?"

"Whether you're ready."

Fritz frowned thoughtfully. "I could be ready."

"Maybe."

"I could work really hard."

"I know you could."

Fritz looked pleased. Merry watched Eddie across the table. He had an easy way with Fritz. No condescension. No false enthusiasm. He took the boy seriously without indulging every grand idea. She liked that.

"Don't encourage him," she said.

Eddie glanced at her. "I'm not."

"You absolutely are."

"I'm answering his questions."

"Which is encouraging him." A smile pulled at his mouth.

"Would you prefer I lie?"

"No."

"Then I suppose we're at an impasse."

Merry smiled despite herself. Their eyes met. For a moment, neither looked away. Then Eddie lowered his gaze to his plate. Merry did the same. Across the table, Jim quietly drank his wine. He said nothing. For the moment.

After dinner, the children dispersed. Otto took plates into the kitchen. Stefi gathered glasses. Fritz vanished and returned almost immediately in his socks. Merry saw him coming.

"Don't."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're about to."

Fritz grinned. Then he ran. He slid across the hardwood floor, arms spread wide, and stopped directly in front of Eddie.

Eddie laughed. "You're going to kill your mother."

"I have excellent balance."

"You have excellent confidence."

"Same thing."

"Not remotely."

Fritz laughed. Merry laughed too. She looked at Eddie. He was already looking at her. The laughter faded between them.

Not completely. Just enough.

His eyes moved over her face, lingering for a heartbeat. Merry felt the room become suddenly smaller. Then Eddie stepped back.

"So. About that four-in-hand," he said, looking at Fritz. Fritz immediately followed him into the living room. Merry remained in the kitchen. Her heart was beating much too quickly.
She looked toward the dining room.

For the first time, she understood something about the room. The table had been bought for dinner parties. And tonight, for the first time since she'd moved into the house, it felt as though she'd finally had one. Not a perfect one. Not a carefully planned one. A real one.

The kind where Fritz slid across the floor in his socks, where someone talked too much, where people stayed after dinner, where the dishes weren't cleared immediately because the conversation mattered more. And Eddie had been part of it. That thought made something warm settle in her chest.

She wasn't ready to decide what that meant. She didn't need to. For tonight, it was enough that the house felt a little less new.

***

At the front door, Merry walked Eddie out. He put on his coat, then turned toward her.
 "Thank you for dinner."

"Thank you for the wine. And the cake. Fritz will remember you for the cake."

"I was hoping for a slightly more lasting legacy."

She laughed. "I'll see what I can do."

He smiled. "Goodnight, Merry."

"Goodnight."

He opened the door. Cold air slipped into the warm hallway. He stepped outside, then looked back. "See you soon."

"Tomorrow?"

"If you're around."

"I'll be around."

His smile deepened. "Good." Then he walked down the steps.


Merry watched him go. She stayed in the doorway until his taillights disappeared beyond the trees.

"Well."

Merry closed her eyes and turned around. Jim was standing in the hallway with his coffee, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Don't."

"I haven't said anything."

"You don't have to."

His moustache twitched. "He's very fond of you."

"He's my friend." Merry sighed.

"Of course."

"And Fritz's coach."

"Naturally." Jim took a sip of coffee. "I'm only saying, if I were a betting man—"

"You're a gossip."

"Me? Never."

Merry laughed despite herself.

Jim wandered toward the dining room. "Don't worry," he said. "I won't tell anyone."

Merry looked at him suspiciously.

"Yet." He grinned.

"Goodnight, Jim."

"Goodnight."

She started toward the door to get his coat.

Behind her, Jim called, "Nice fellow, though."

Merry paused. A smile betrayed her.

"I know."

Jim's grin widened. He'd heard enough.

(1607 words)