Stan

by C. J. Duggan

  “I would sooner you put it towards a fishing rod.”

  “A fishing rod?” Glen queried.

  I nodded. “A fishing rod. Stan can use it next weekend on his time off.” I knew I was being cheeky.

  “B-but next weekend is the festival … I … don’t think that—” Glen stuttered, until Paula reassuringly put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Oh, I think we can handle it, Glen.” She winked at me. “That sounds like a really good idea, Bel.”

  Relief washed over me; there was no way I felt comfortable about taking any money. If anything, I should be paying them for Stan having to put up with me. Still, if he managed to get a belated weekend off to go on his fishing trip, I’d hoped it would make up in some small way for what really was a disastrous weekend for him.

  “I’ll just grab my things and head back,” I said.

  “Your mum and dad have gone to pick up Alex, but they shouldn’t be too far away,” said Paula.

  I laughed. “Alex will be gutted you guys came back early.”

  “Ah, yes, well, when there’s a doctor down I suppose there is little choice,” said Glen.

  I paused in the doorway. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, your dad got a call from the clinic. Apparently one of the doctors has taken ill and you guys have to head back tomorrow,” said Glen.

  “Tomorrow?” I said a bit too loud.

  “Oh, dear. Glen, you have such a big mouth. Hon, they were going to tell you; believe me, they were really disappointed, too.”

  I bet they were, cutting short a wine weekend would have been positively shattering.

  I know I had wanted to get far away from Onslow, but with the thought of Christmas literally being cancelled, I was pissed.

  So pissed.

  I said my goodbyes and heaved the backpack over my shoulder, lost in my own thoughts as I left the Remington house. Shutting the door behind me I turned, only to slam straight into a hard torso.

  “Whooa, careful,” the voice said as a hand came out to prevent me from toppling over.

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you there,” I said, looking up and up at the really tall boy before me. How I didn’t see him was a bit of a joke, he was huge and he was … oh God.

  The Angel of Death.

  From last night. I thought I had hallucinated his presence in the doorway of Max’s bathroom, but there he was: very, very real. I took in the muscled lines of his built frame, the high wattage smile, and piercing blue eyes that suddenly dawned with recognition.

  “Bel, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “Oh, um, yeah.” I blushed.

  “I’m Sean, Stan’s mate,” he said, holding out his huge hand.

  I shifted my backpack, taking his hand as he shook it so hard I thought my shoulder would dislocate. I was somewhat relieved he didn’t go into the whole ‘we kind of met last night’ scene. He didn’t mention it and there was no chance I was going to.

  “Um, if you’re looking for Stan he’s not here,” I said.

  “Oh, okay. Do you know where he is?” he asked, scratching the stubble on his jawline.

  A day off, I thought. There was only one place my mind jumped to when Stan’s parents had told me he was given the day off. I felt as miserable as I did about it now as I toed a wooden knot in the deck of the verandah.

  “Well, I daresay he’s probably at his girlfriend’s,” I said unenthusiastically, as I craned my head to look back at Sean who was sporting a somewhat troubled expression.

  “Girlfriend?” he repeated.

  “Yeah, Ellie.”

  Sean’s expression didn’t falter; it was like the lights were on but there was nobody home.

  I sighed. “Ellie Parker: tall, blonde, tanned, kind of hard to miss.”

  It was like a knife stabbing me in the heart listing off all of her traits to him that were the opposite of mine.

  “Yeah, I know who she is.” He smirked.

  “Well, find her, you find him,” I said. Done with this conversation I stepped around him only to be stopped as he grabbed my arm.

  “Whoa, wait a sec.”

  My eyes dropped to where he held my arm, before raising my brows to him.

  “Stan doesn’t have a girlfriend,” he said in all seriousness.

  My eyes ticked over his penetrating expression. It was as if time stood still, his words coming out in slow motion as they sunk in.

  What? What?!

  Numbness, confusion, fear, hope.

  “B-but they’ve always been together.”

  Sean smirked, shaking his head. “They broke up over twelve months ago.”

  “Twelve months ago?” I repeated a bit too loudly.

  Sean let go of my arm, trying to contain his amusement. “So, as you can see my predicament, trust me in saying Ellie’s is the last place Stan would be.” Sean gave me a knowing look, taking in my overreaction with interest.

  Stan didn’t have a girlfriend. Stan didn’t have a girlfriend.

  The words screamed inside my mind, over and over again, the very sentences constricted my breathing as I made sense of the last few days. How there was no affection between them because there really wasn’t. The way he seemed to take Ellie walking in on us with no guilt because he didn’t have any.

  Oh, my God, he nearly kissed me … as a very single Stan.

  My heart raced a million miles an hour, blinking into the here and now, realising I was still very much standing in front of Sean who was finding my verge of having a meltdown more than entertaining.

  “Sean … where’s Stan’s place?”

  Sean broke into a winning smile. “I’ll take you there.”

  ***

  My mum looked at me in disbelief. “I can’t believe you are taking this so badly, I thought you would have been frothing at the mouth to get back to the city to see your friends,” she said, unpacking her bag as I sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Well, I have just gotten used to the idea of staying and now we have to go. Can’t Dad go back and we stay?”

  “What? And spend Christmas apart? I don’t think so.”

  Our family always spent Christmas together. Even Grant and Ben were coming here for Christmas.

  Mum cupped my cheek as she walked past out of the room. “There’s always next year.”

  Not for what I had to do.

  Having waited the better part of the afternoon for my parents to get to the van I had had only time for a quick shower and change as I paced a track into the annex carpet.

  Sean was going to pick me up at six thirty at the top of the grounds. I really didn’t fancy myself having to explain why a six-foot-three Adonis was picking me up, so I would just keep that on the down low. In fact, I would keep everything on the down low as I planned to head out to Stan’s and confront him about, well, I didn’t know exactly. But knowing what I did now about he and Ellie not being an item, well, it changed things, for me anyway. My mind raced a hundred miles an hour. Even if he was a free agent, he was probably completely disgusted by my behaviour last night. Even if he had shown signs of wanting to kiss me earlier, had my antics from last night changed that?

  I rubbed my stomach, grimacing at the tenderness of it as my insides twisted.

  Breathe, Bel. Just. Breathe.

  Everything was well enough planned. I was going to the movies to watch God-knows what with freaked-if-I-knew who, but it was a double feature and probably best not to wait up. It was the diciest plan I had ever thought of, but I was so utterly desperate to head to Stan’s, I had almost contemplated pointing in the opposite direction and saying ‘look’, all the while running away from my distracted family; that was plan B.

  Oh, God, I hoped he was home.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Stan

  Want a beer?

  Sean shut the cabin door behind him as I made my way to the fridge, assuming the answer would be a resounding yes.

  “Ah, no, thanks, mate, I won’t take long.”

  I did a double tak
e, wondering had Sean taken ill. I knew he had come to see me about business which would no doubt in my mind involve a few cheeky beers.

  “You feeling all right?”

  Sean refused to even sit, nodded readily. “Oh, yeah, fine. I just, ah, will make this short and sweet.”

  “Okay,” I said, warily taking a seat on the edge of the lounge. “You’re not going to need a kidney or anything, are you?”

  Sean laughed, seeming to relax somewhat. “Not at this stage, mate, but I know you’re good for it.”

  “I am.” I saluted him with my beer.

  “Listen, it’s a pretty simple thing, and I’m going to cut to the chase.” Sean delved his hands in his pockets and looked at me pointedly. “I want you to work with me.”

  I slowly lowered the beer from my lips.

  “Work for you?”

  “No. I want you to work with me,” Sean repeated.

  “I’m not a builder.”

  “No, but you have a brilliant work ethic and you know how to run a business. When I thought about coming home and starting up here, there was only one bloke I knew would fit the bill, and that’s you.”

  I sat stunned into silence, as Sean continued with his pitch.

  “I’ll pay you a full wage, none of that apprentice crap; you’ll be my equal and we’ll do it together. It’s not just something new for you, it’s new for me too, and I need to work with someone I can trust.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, Sean’s words whirring through my head. “Shit, mate, I don’t know. It sounds bloody tempting.”

  “That’s because it is.” Sean strode across the floor taking the seat opposite me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes wild with excitement.

  “Cut the umbilical cord, Stan, grab the independence you want. It will be hard work, I’m not denying that, but your life will be your own.”

  Everything he was saying was hitting a nerve in me, a nerve I didn’t want to admit to. How could I leave the park to my parents to manage on their own? I felt this sense of duty towards them, towards this place. My emotions would always be torn when it came to them. It wasn’t as simple to just jump at his offer and ride off into the sunset.

  “Look, think about it, will you? Just think about it for me. There’s no rush.”

  I nodded, looking at Sean. Despite his words, a sense of urgency radiated from him. I would think about it, but one way or another, I wouldn’t keep him waiting. I wouldn’t do that to him.

  “Can I let you know in the morning?”

  Sean’s brows lifted in surprise. “Sure, yeah. God, whenever.” Sean stood, meeting adjourned.

  I stood too, offering my hand. “Thanks, mate.”

  Sean took my hand. “No worries.”

  It was as deep and meaningful as it would get amongst us mates, but the truth is Sean’s offer meant more to me than I could possibly say. Sean was a perfectionist, a master in his profession, and the fact he wanted me to go into partnership with him, well, that would take some seeping in. I had a lot of thinking to do.

  Luckily I had the rest of the night to think it over.

  “Well, I better get going,” Sean said, heading for the door.

  “Sure you don’t want to stay for a beer? I know you said short and sweet, but Jesus.”

  Sean opened the door, stepping out onto the deck. “Yeah, well, speaking of short and sweet …” He coughed and stepped aside.

  I paused in the doorway, words escaping me as my eyes locked onto Bel standing on my front steps.

  Sean slapped me on the shoulder, speaking lowly into my ear. “I would say sleep on that offer, but something tells me you’re not going to get much sleep tonight.” He winked, grinning as he went to stand next to a blushing Bel.

  “Thanks for the lift,” she said coyly.

  Sean nodded. “You’re welcome.”

  Bel wrung her fingers, and bit her lip in nervous anticipation. It was a side of her I hadn’t seen before. It was almost painful to watch how uncomfortable she was.

  “Your parents are giving you next weekend off,” she blurted out so quickly, it took me aback.

  Sean groaned. “Oh that’s just great, just pretend you didn’t hear that, Stanley. Don’t let your sense of duty make you all gooey inside,” he said, pointing at me as he descended the steps toward his car.

  “See ya, Sean,” I said, waving from the deck as I moved to stand beside Bel on the steps.

  Sean honked a series of obnoxious toots as he spun his Ute into a cloud of dust, gunning it down the dirt road and out of sight long before the dust cloud settled.

  Now with the fading light, and Bel by my side, my head full of confusion, it was my turn to be speechless.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Bel

  I probably looked a sight.

  I had all but run up the crest screaming out to my parents not to wait up. One thing in my favour was this was my last night in Onslow; my parents didn’t dare ask too many questions of my plans.

  Plans that involved getting into a stranger’s car and being driven along a desolate, dirt track in the bushy scrubland. Yep, nothing creepy about that.

  If Sean wasn’t singing Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Brilliant Disguise’ and slapping the steering wheel to the beat of the music in joyous wonder, I probably would have felt uneasy, but I relaxed somewhat. Until, of course, Stan’s shack came into view.

  There it was - a mission brown weatherboard shack on the edge of an open field with an awesome view overlooking the water in the distance. Completely secluded from the tourists of the park. It was simple and neat with a verandah not unlike the self-contained units in the park, with a couple of chairs and a little table. I tried to imagine what the inside of Stan’s house would look like and wondered even if I was going to see it? Would he invite me in? Would he be completely creeped out by me coming here? Was this overstepping the mark? Self-doubt rattled my thoughts; I was on the verge of asking Sean to take me back to the park when he pulled the car up and shut off the engine.

  “Wait here for a sec. I just have to talk business with Stan for a bit.”

  “Don’t tell him I’m here,” I blurted out. Sean looked back at me with an air of amusement.

  “Not a chance, I need him focused.” He laughed, sliding out and shutting the car door.

  What was that supposed to mean?

  Now I think I knew. Standing beside Stan, he seemed anything but focused; he seemed confused and unsettled by my presence. Maybe it wasn’t too late to chase after Sean’s car.

  Silence hung heavy between us. He didn’t invite me in, he just stood there, leaning against the verandah post with his hands in his pockets, his eyes cast down on me on the lower step. I tentatively stepped up so as to meet his eye.

  “I’m going home tomorrow.”

  A new emotion flickered across Stan’s face as he leant off the post, straightening. “Tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, my dad has been called back to work early so I guess we’ll be spending Christmas in Maitland after all.”

  I searched his face, desperately wanting to see an air of disappointment, a glimmer of something more, that very something he had shown me yesterday when I swore he was going to kiss me. But I saw nothing, just a stony resolve and a slow nod of his head.

  A lump rose in my throat, the overwhelming feeling of disappointment churned in a way I couldn’t disguise as I broke from his gaze, my eyes shifting down briefly to gather myself.

  “Yeah, so I just wanted to say goodbye,” I said, lifting my chin and praying for an inner strength.

  Damn you, Stan Remington, damn my traitorous heart, and damn Onslow.

  The sooner I got as far away from here the better. I had had enough of this town, of everything in it. I would go back to the van, my parents would do a double take at the time and how early I was, while I disguised my tears and turned in early for the night avoiding their questions.

  But I still needed to make my legs work, make my move down the long line of steps,
down the road and through the scrub before dark. I remembered the weight that was in my satchel. Smiling slightly to myself, I recalled the trouble it had been to get Sean to make a pit stop before heading to Stan’s place. He had done it under sufferance, but it was my plan B should everything go pear shaped, like it already had.

  “I, um, got something,” I said, flipping the canvas flap open at my side and delving into my bag. I was concentrating so hard to disguise the tremor of my hands as I searched for what I was looking for.

  Grabbing onto the pack I pulled it out and handed it Stan. For the longest moment Stan looked at my hand, the still unchanging stare set in the hardness of his eyes until he slowly reached out and took the packet of mints from my hand. His fingers accidentally brushed mine setting a tingling jolt through me, which only made my heart ache all the more. But nothing killed me more than the slow smile that lifted the corners of his mouth as he studied the packet then looked back to me. It killed me because somehow over the last few days, I’d become addicted to his smiles. They were beautiful. They were stunning. They were Stan. And I now knew I would probably never see them again. My heart stuttered at the thought.

  “Thanks,” he said, turning the packet over in his hands.

  I nodded, somehow finding the willpower to turn and miraculously make my legs move. One step in front of the other, I told myself. Just. Go. I breathed out, cheering myself on not to lose it until I was out of sight, until I was far away, then I could fall apart, howl at the moon if I wanted. I just had to hold it together. The vast space ahead seemed like a mountain range, so I tried not to think of that. Instead, I readjusted my bag and left the stairs of Stan’s shack behind.

  “Bel, wait!”

  I froze so quickly I thought I might stumble. I heard the sound of footsteps descend the stairs. I slowly turned to see Stan, walking a long, determined stride toward me, throwing the packet of mints aside with abandon. My eyes widened at them landing in the dust, splitting, and spilling over the ground. I had barely enough time to voice my shock before Stan reached me, cupped my face, and was kissing me so passionately, my hands fisted into the fabric of his shirt. His kiss captured all my breath and caused my heart to thump against my rib cage. His mouth was like a hot brand, as if someone had sparked a match against me. My hands moved to divide the folds of his hair, my mouth opening for him, only for him to break away all too quickly. Gone was the unreadable gaze, here was the fire I had seen before, the same Stan I knew wanted what I wanted as he pressed his forehead against mine, his ragged breaths blowing across my face. “That’s not enough.” He spoke against my lips. “I was waiting for you to say something, anything, but not walk away—not again.”