Ask Me for Tomorrow Read Online Free PDF Page A

grass.
    ‘You say okay to the dog, but not to Boo?’ Sam joked, referring to her maniac goose.
    ‘Boo lost visiting privileges the day he was born.’
    Olivia Law slid from the ute, slammed the door then jogged over to the group. When she was beneath the tarpaulin and out of the rain, she threw her hoodie back and sighed theatrically. She grinned at Dean and as always, he thought of pixies and fairies. Her short, spiky hair was redder than Nina’s, and her narrow face, pointed features and enormous eyes added a cute, almost mythical quality to her appearance. She was short and slight and her mischievous streak was wider than Dean’s property.
    ‘Hiya,’ she said. ‘I come bearing condolences and croissants. BYO preserves, I’m afraid.’ She lifted up a bag of fresh pastries baked so recently that steam was forming little drops of condensation on the plastic.
    He thanked her with a hug and waited for Caleb to join them. At six foot, Cal had a fair bit of height over Liv, but was about level with Dean. His tousled black hair, strong-lined features and solid arms earned him many looks from the women about town. Dean teased him accordingly.
    Cal had stepped out of the ute and right into a deep puddle, so his expression was a little pinched when he arrived beneath the tarp. ‘Nice day for it,’ he said, shaking Dean’s hand then hugging his sister. ‘Sorry about the dog.’
    Dean shrugged. ‘The tackling started before you got here, don’t worry.’
    ‘That’s all right, then. Who’re we waiting for?’ He nodded a greeting at Ethan.
    ‘Fiona.’
    And as if summoned, her car turned into the driveway.
    Bree had looked very little like her mother. She’d been more classic and natural, compared to Fiona’s typical pressed slacks, starched shirts and fine jewellery. Despite Fiona’s country surrounds, she always looked ready to host a charity auction. Even today, her face crumpled with grief and the rain beating down on her umbrella, she looked stylish. Dean narrowed his eyes at the heeled boots she wore. No one spoke as she took one delicate step after another through the rain-soaked grass towards them.
    She’d done it hard these few years past. Her husband had left her before Bree died, so it was just Fiona in that big house on the other side of the town. Dean knew she filled it with friends and causes, and she said no to his invitations to dinner more often than she said yes – but Dean still worried about her.
    They hadn’t grieved the same way. Fiona had fallen apart while Dean had needed to keep it together for the sake of his family. He’d fractured; he was sure she knew that. There had been days when he’d wished he’d had no responsibilities, but he’d mourned on his feet. And he suspected Fiona compared their grief.
    She stepped under the tarp, scowled at it, and chose to keep her umbrella up. There were hugs all around as Dean called the kids over so they could get started. He wanted to sit – he was already tired – but more than anything, he wanted to keep things casual.
    Dean cleared his throat, only to realise he didn’t know where to begin.
    It was Sam who filled the silence. ‘I remember when Bree turned thirty.’ She looked down at the kids and grinned. ‘Your mum tried to stay in bed and sleep through it.’ A few people laughed softly, and the tone was set.
    ‘I remember her fifteenth birthday party,’ Ethan volunteered next. ‘Dean must’ve lost a litre of spit, drooling all over her that day.’
    ‘We were at Bean Ramblin’,’ Fiona murmured, referring to the fun, eclectic little coffee shop which had since closed down. Her focus was distant, and looking at her, Dean knew she’d fallen through time.
    More people shared their memories. Even Liv, who only knew Bree through Sam’s stories, offered a few words. The kids took their turn, recalling half a dozen moments between them, then all eyes were on Dean.
    He cleared his throat again and closed his eyes. When he