Stan Read Online Free PDF Page A

guess I had just
thought he was so readily available around the park, or he was in the office or
around the main house so much, that I just assumed he did live at home still.
Even if he was in his mid-twenties, it was a family-run business, so it made
sense. And then dread swept over me as I recalled my comments about being
tucked into bed; he hadn’t exactly stormed away in a huff like some brat.
    Now I felt bad,
really bad.
    What had I done?
    I had made my way
back to the adults in the lounge, my blood bubbling under the surface as Stan’s
smartarse ‘poor little rich girl’ joke played on repeat in my mind, only
serving to make me angrier and angrier as I stared outside the French door windows
biting my lip and masking my scowl from the rest of the room. If anyone had
noticed the change in my demeanour, no one mentioned anything. My mind drifted
in and out of their conversation.
    My mum sighed. “It’s
such a shame we don’t get up here often enough and the Barinya Valley is so
beautiful, even in the summer.”
    “You sure you can’t
make it next weekend?” asked my dad. “It’s really the last chance we’ll have to
break away before the New Year hits and we head back.”
    I caught Glen
shaking his head in the reflection in the French door glass. “Nah, next weekend
is definitely out. It’s the Blues Festival down at the park, and it makes for a
busy weekend.”
    Paula sighed. “Such
a shame, it would have been lovely for the four of us to get away.”
    “I know, such
crazy pipe dreams, right?” my mum added.
    Coming in on the
end of their conversation that had continued on from dinner earlier about their
desire to do a wine tour some time had the cogs turning in my head; my rage
simmered some, and an evil grin curved the edge of my lips as I casually
recalled the reason Stan was even here in the first place.
    To beg for the
weekend off.
    I spun around
casually, making my way toward the coffee table to snag a carrot stick and some
hummus, as I halfheartedly mentioned, “What about this weekend?”
    I had a bit of an
inward chuckle. Now wouldn’t that be something?
    “This weekend?”
Glen laughed.
    “Yeah, I think
that would be stretching it a bit,” said Dad, as he looked at Mum in disbelief.
    Mum shifted in her
seat. “Just a bit.” She laughed.
    I shrugged,
crunching on the last mouth full.
    More’s the pity, I
thought.
    “Well, why not
this weekend?” said Paula, straightening in her chair.
    A piece of carrot
got caught in my windpipe causing me to convulse into a violent coughing
attack.
    WHAT?
    “Well, like you
said, John, next week would be out, but what if we went this weekend? I know it’s
a bit short notice, but we have nothing on this weekend.” Paula’s eyes were
wide with excitement as she looked at her husband, who was also lost in his own
thoughts.
    The four of them
were all lost in deep thought, silent with the hope and possible fear to
believe.
    Oh no-no-no-no.
    I wasn’t serious.
I hadn’t meant it. It was a joke. A joke because I knew MY parents, the
painstaking pre-planners, would not go anywhere at a moment’s notice, would not
act on anything unless there were multiple lists and at least six months’
advance in their agendas.
    But the moment I
saw the smile slowly spread across my mum’s face, and when the glazed-over look
of uncertainty morphed into something like that of a small child giddy on
Christmas Eve, I knew I was in trouble.
    “Let’s do it!” she
said.
    Oh, crap!
    “Well, what about
this place? Who will look after it? Isn’t it peak season for you guys?” Dad
asked.
    Good ol’ sensible
Dad, always thinking of the bigger picture, always thinking of others and using
his head.
    I nodded in
agreement.
    Paula waved off
his concern. “Stan will be here. He can man the fort for a few days. He won’t
mind.”
    Oh, double
crap!
    My parents’ shoulders
slumped in unified relief. “Of course,” my mum said.
    I tried to gain
some speech back after my