Free The Great Pony Hassle by Nancy Springer Page A

at least not that they knew of. They wouldn’t have minded if Stirling had gotten a pony to maybe share with them.
    â€œWell, something,” said Mr. McPherson awkwardly. “Maybe not a pony, but you should have something.” Then he seemed to think of his fiancée’s girls. He looked at the Fontecchio twins, who looked back at him without letting their brown faces show him anything. They saw him swallow, and try to think what to say, and finally say nothing to them at all. “What about Staci and Toni?” he asked Paisley. “You going to let them ride your pony?”
    â€œSure!” bragged Paisley, still jumping.
    â€œ Forget it,” Staci muttered, so low only Toni could hear her.
    Paisley stopped jumping up and down and thought of something else to yell. “Dad,” she demanded. “When are we going to get the pony? Today? Can we go look for one today?”
    â€œHeck, no. Where would we put it? We need to build a pasture and some sort of shed.”
    â€œOkay, let’s go do that now!”
    Her father looked hard at her. “Paisley,” he said, “I have other things to do this weekend. Like get married. Like go on my honeymoon.”
    Paisley looked disappointed for a moment. Then she brightened. “Piece of cake!” she exclaimed, grabbing a box off the floor. “I’ll take care of it. Right after I move into my new room.”
    When no one was watching, Staci rolled her eyes.
    After Paisley veered off down the hallway, the adults went into the kitchen, talking softly and touching hands. Staci and Toni were left looking at Stirling.
    â€œHi,” Toni said when the silence had stretched awhile.
    Stirling looked up with huge eyes and smiled. Her eyes were a blue so dark it made her face and hair look pale as sunshine. She was very pretty.
    â€œYou need help with your stuff?” Toni asked. She wanted to see what was in Stirling’s suitcase. Maybe a lot of plaid skirts. Bruce McPherson was so Scottish he had named his girls after towns in Scotland.
    Stirling said, “Not really. Thanks anyway.”
    Staci did not feel like talking with Stirling. “C’mon, Toni.” She pulled her sister away from Stirling, down the hallway. The Fontecchio twins went into what had been Toni’s bedroom; now Staci had been moved in there too. Like the rest of the house, the room was crowded and messy. Without saying much the twins kicked clear a space on the oval rug next to their beds so they could play. They made sure the door was shut, then pulled open a bottom dresser drawer and brought out little-girl toys they would lay hands on only in private.

    Plastic ponies. Little fat-legged piggy-faced plastic ponies. Blue and pink and purple ponies with dumb stuff printed on their behinds.
    â€œI don’t believe it,” Staci said, glum.
    â€œSame way with me,” said Toni.
    â€œI don’t believe that brat’s getting a pony.”
    â€œSame way with me.”
    â€œIn our backyard.”
    â€œAs if things aren’t rotten enough. Them coming in and taking over.”
    â€œI won’t touch it when she gets it.”
    â€œI won’t even go near it,” said Toni.
    â€œI won’t even look at it,” Staci vowed.
    â€œMe neither.”
    A pause. Then Toni said, “I wonder if it’ll be a palomino.”
    â€œOh, shut up.”
    â€œShut up yourself.”
    They played all afternoon with the silly fake ponies, sweet-smelling ponies, candy-colored ponies, even dressing them up in their silly little clothes. But they thought about real ponies. And they hid the toy ones whenever they had to leave the room or open the door.

2
    In Which the Palomino Pony Is Found
    There was no big wedding. Mr. McPherson and Mrs. Fontecchio didn’t want all the fuss. They got married in the county courthouse. Their only guests were both sets of twins and Cathy’s mother, Mrs. Dill. After a restaurant