Ask Me for Tomorrow (6 page)

‘Dad!’ Rowan gasped. ‘You won’t believe what Liv just told us!’

‘I’m not going to like this, am I?’

‘Why didn’t you tell us about hoop snakes?’

‘Hoop snakes?’ Dean’s brows lifted.

Rowan hurried up the steps, Nina clattering behind him, and seized Dean’s hand. Tugging, he said, ‘You don’t know about them either? Oh wow,
Dad
. These snakes—’

‘—hoop snakes, right.’

‘—they don’t slither in the grass like the other ones.’ Behind him, Nina illustrated by wriggling her little hips. ‘They hold onto their tails with their mouths and they
roll
.’

‘They roll,’ Nina echoed.

Dean shook his head. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me – 
Olivia
!’

Liv held her hands high as she came up the steps to join them. ‘Ooh, he’s full-naming me, Cal!’ Grinning wickedly, she chucked Dean under the chin and shuffled past.

Turning, Dean said, ‘I just got them back under trees and now
this
? They’ll never go outside again!’ The weeks following Liv’s story about drop bears had been exhausting – Rowan and Nina had refused to walk under any tree for fear of being mauled by an imaginary predator.

‘No, it’s okay. We just need to make sharp turns when we’re running, right, kids?’ As they agreed, she explained, ‘Hoop snakes have wide turning circles.’

‘You’re not – guys, there aren’t any hoop snakes.’ But his kids wouldn’t listen, and Dean sensed another few weeks of spot-the-mythical-creature beginning.

As everybody filed inside, Dean noticed Liv’s slow walk. ‘What happened to you?’

‘It’s nothing,’ she said, waving a dismissive hand. ‘I’ll labour through it.’

Behind her, Cal rolled his eyes and smiled.

Dean turned his attention back to the kids. ‘Go wash your hands for dinner. Floyd, out. Cal, can you bin this?’ He handed Cal his empty beer bottle. ‘Liv, can you help me set the table?’ As he closed the back door to keep the dog out from under their feet, Liv sighed hugely.

‘Can you get Cal to help you?’ she said. ‘I need to sit down.’ Which she promptly did, at the head of the unset dining table.

‘Uh . . . okay.’ Taken aback by her unhelpfulness, he walked into the kitchen and began gathering cutlery from the top drawer. ‘Your fiancée’s being a diva tonight,’ he said to Cal.

‘I can hear you!’ Liv called from the adjoining room.

‘You were supposed to! Help me set, would you? Ethan and Sam will be here any minute and the lamb’s done.’

Cal chuckled, grabbed an armload of glasses and put himself to work.

Fifteen minutes later the last guests had arrived, everyone was seated and a microwave gravy pack was being passed from hand to hand and poured over servings of roast lamb. Now that Dean was no longer lecturing them, Rowan and Nina had returned to their outgoing, boisterous selves – Nina was amusing Cal with a story about a boy at school nicknamed ‘Muppet’ and Rowan was asking Ethan about the new warehouse.

Rowan had shown an interest in Ethan’s work almost from the moment Ethan had returned to town, and he was always offering to help – something he’d never done for Dean with the garage. Rowan’s veins weren’t thick with grease and oil like his father’s – they were full of woodchip and wood glue.

Dean was content with that. It certainly put light in his brother’s eyes, and Ethan made every effort to include his young apprentice in his jobs. Ethan loved having a shadow and Dean wasn’t about to put a halt to that. If Nina continued to show no interest in the garage either, then Dean would simply sell it one day. It would be sad to see it leave the family, but he wasn’t such a traditionalist that he would force it on the next generation.

Maybe he’d sell it to Ben.

Ben had followed him around the garage again this afternoon, asking a dozen questions and listening to the answers carefully. Dean had let him push the car hoist button and the kid’s eyes had been like discs as the Toyota Corolla in for a service was lifted into the air. It was fun having him around, and kind of nice to be so interesting.

Alice hadn’t said much after their little tiff and they never did get that coffee, so there was still a bit of work to be done there. Damage control, in a sense, for scraping at her pride and sticking his nose in her business. Between their kids fighting and Dean’s mistake this morning, they’d got off to a rocky start, but those things notwithstanding, he liked having her around. She didn’t chatter, she didn’t look at him as if he were pitiable or damaged for having lost his wife, and she was good at her job.

Once they found themselves on the same page, he was sure they’d get on well. He saw a lot of himself in her: she was strong, independent and no-nonsense; and then there was the fact that she was beautiful. She had great legs. They’d been hidden by pants so far, but he could still tell. They were often crossed beneath the reception desk, and he admired their shape when he watched her walk around the garage, speaking to the mechanics.

‘Please pass me the salt, Neenz?’ Liv asked from the head of the table. Nina stopped talking about Muppet and obliged. ‘Thanks, gorgeous. Sam-I-Am, can you please pour me a drink?’

Samantha raised an eyebrow but reached for the soft drink in the middle of the table. Liv smiled and flopped back against her chair, demonstrating exhaustion.

Dean frowned at her but said nothing.

‘I was just telling Ro,’ Ethan said, loading his fork with lamb, mashed potato and peas, ‘that the roof insulation’s gone in and the plasterboard’s in place. We’re painting tomorrow and I still need the paint swatch you want.’

Dean nodded. ‘Just pick something you like.’

Ethan paused, his fork almost at his mouth. ‘I gave you thirty colours – you can’t pick one? The swatches are in the kitchen. Look at them after dinner.’

‘Just pick what you like,’ Dean repeated.

‘Ro,’ Liv said, ‘can you pass me a slice of bread?’ Because the plate of bread was closer to her than Rowan, this was something she could have done herself.

‘Okay, enough.’ Dean’s cutlery clanked against the rim of his plate. ‘Ro, sit down. Olivia, unless you’re injured or otherwise incapacitated, get your own bread and pour your own drink! What’s with the sudden delicacy?’

No one spoke.

At length, Liv sighed and straightened in her chair. At her elbow, Cal stared at his plate, his mouth twisted strangely. ‘Well, if you must know. I’m expecting . . .’

Dean waited. ‘Expecting what?’

‘Just expecting.’

And then she smiled. Cal’s lips stretched into a grin and cutlery suddenly clattered to the tabletop.

‘Oh my God!’ Sam cried. ‘You’re pregnant!’

‘That’s what I just said!’

Sam was on her feet, and then just as suddenly, she wasn’t. Crushed onto the same chair now, the women clutched one another, arms and legs everywhere as they clumsily embraced and celebrated. Nina hastened to join them, anxious to hug and scream too, and the men all stared at one another, speechless.

Dean got to his feet and walked around to Cal, who stood up, eyes shining with tears. Dean threw his arms around him. Moments later, Ethan’s arms closed around the pair of them, then a lower, smaller arm wrapped around Dean’s waist.

When Dean drew away, a tear was resting on his upper lip. ‘Congratulations. You’re going to be a brilliant dad.’ He thought about the heartache Cal had gone through a few years ago when his ex had terminated her pregnancy, and he knew exactly what to say. He looked over at Liv, who was laughing and crying, and nodded at her. ‘Look how happy she is.’

And then the two groups became one as the women rushed over to join the men. Dean was jolted from side to side, hugged around the neck, kissed and cried on . . . and he was happy.

Much later that night, and twenty minutes down the road, Ben lay in bed staring at the Avengers clock on his bedside table. It was almost midnight. He thought about the smell of engine oil, the sharp whine of the rattle gun and the button he’d pushed that had raised a car into the air. He imagined that was how easy it was for the Hulk – he lifted cars over his head as if they weighed nothing. Dean’s face came to mind, kind and patient, and Ben wriggled deeper into his bed. Nina and Rowan were so lucky. Their dad was so nice. Ben’s dad was . . . not.

His mum didn’t seem to like Dean as much as he did, but grown-ups were weird, and they were always dealing with stuff that he apparently wasn’t old enough to know about. Thirteen would surely bring all the answers. Twelve was just an endless assault of questions.

A line of light shone beneath the curtains and moved left to right across the roof. A moment later a car parked, the engine turned off and a door opened and closed. Ben listened to the familiar beat of his mother’s work heels, the jangle of keys, and then she was inside.

Ben sighed, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Chapter Five

The following afternoon Dean sat opposite Alice, watching the coffee he’d brought her slowly reanimate her face. Her eyelids appeared heavy, her movements sluggish and overly considered, and when he’d walked past ten minutes ago, she’d been dozing in her chair, hand on the phone.

She was good at her job – the paperwork process had been improved, the phone was getting answered, bookings were being made, followed up on and assigned to the best mechanic for the job, but something was weighing her down and wearing her out.

Dean was trying to mind his own business, but it wasn’t easy.

Each time Alice lifted the mug to her lips, it was as an addict might – jerkily, a little needy.

‘I noticed you didn’t bring lunch in today,’ he said, propping his elbows on his knees. ‘Did you want to grab a bite with me at the pub?’

She swallowed and lowered the mug. ‘You want to have lunch with me?’

‘Only if you want to have lunch with me.’

Her hesitation made him draw away. His smile slipped.

‘Of course I do,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m sorry. Lunch together sounds nice.’ She glanced at the phone. ‘Will it be okay to be away from the desk for so long?’

Appeased, he got to his feet. ‘Forward the phone, it’ll be fine. If your boss gives you a hard time about it, let me know and I’ll sort him out.’

He liked her smile, the way it started on one side of her mouth then moved to the other.

Alice stood and excused herself to put the mug in the kitchen. As he waited, Dean took their jackets down from the hooks by the front door. Rain crashed against the roof – more roar than rhythm – and water tumbled down the windows. It had been a miserable day so far, but things were looking up.

When she returned, Dean held up a set of keys with a gaudy heart keychain. ‘Let’s take the Yaris. There’s a noise I want to listen to.’

Alice nodded, retrieved her handbag from under the desk then joined him at the door which led to the garage. He helped her into her jacket then led the way to Meredith’s dirty red car.

When he got behind the wheel, he gagged. An overbearing, sickly scent filled the small space. Tossed on the passenger side floor among various bits of rubbish, make-up products and shoes was a cheap perfume can labelled Sex-bomb Strawberry. Dean reached over and cleared a space so Alice could get in. As she looked over at him, his disgusted expression made her laugh.

‘How can she bear this?’ Dean asked, referring to the young owner of the car. He reached under his legs, seized a tissue box and threw it onto the back seat, then started the engine. Alice looked at him curiously when he reached the road and turned the car away from town.

‘Meredith hears a strange noise when she’s doing over sixty k’s,’ he explained, his eyes on the oncoming traffic. ‘I can’t do that down the main street so we’re heading a little out of town. Sorry about this; we’ll eat real soon, I promise.’

A few minutes later they were coasting at seventy kilometres an hour past farmhouses, barns and livestock. The strong smell of strawberries still made him want to gag, but the scent of rain and something else, something alluring and floral, made the trip bearable. He put the windscreen wipers on the fastest setting and turned the headlights on for safety.

Eyes still on the road, he leaned forward in the seat, listening for the offending sound. After a moment he thought he might have caught it in the left part of the dashboard. He strained closer, only to wonder if he hadn’t misheard, because now it seemed to be coming from the passenger door.

It was only when the scent of flowers came to rival the scent of fruit that he realised how close he had moved to Alice. His cheek was close enough to her chest that a good bump in the road would probably embarrass them both.

‘Sorry,’ he said, moving quickly back to his side of the car.

Alice laughed and settled more comfortably into her seat. ‘It’s fine. Do what you’ve got to do.’

He glanced over, surprised by the subtle flirtation. She was smiling with one side of her mouth again. He grinned and looked back at the road.

He thought about her legs and perfume as he continued to listen for the elusive sound, but there was only the rain, her breathing and his fast-beating heart.

How unexpected that Alice Jaye would manage to shine a light in the darkened corners of his desire. She wasn’t the kind of woman he was used to – he was surrounded by gregarious, fun-loving chatterboxes, women who had a lot to say, who would talk over him to get their point across. Yet here was Alice, reserved and relatively even-tempered, inciting thoughts that hadn’t crossed his mind in a long time.

Did this mean that Dean was open for business again? Was he seriously thinking about venturing forward into the new and unknown? What would people think of him moving on – would they think it was too soon? Did such opinions matter?

‘I can’t hear anything,’ Alice said, leaning forward in her seat, her face angled towards him.

‘It’s hard to hear much of anything over the rain,’ he said, easing onto the verge so he could turn around and return to town. ‘I’ll have to try again when this storm passes. But it could be the heater fan. It spins on a bearing,’ he circled his finger in the air to illustrate, ‘which can wear out and make a grinding noise. I’ll check that out. There could also be a lot of leaves in the air vents. Meredith parks under a wild olive tree and never cleans her car.’