Brianna
Little Leon ended up needing surgery to repair a hole in his heart and flew through his surgery like the true fighter he was. Between spending time at the hospital and organising storage for all of Rosie’s furniture, Brie almost forgot to find a place to live. It wasn’t until the night the moving truck arrived that she had an idea.
Rosie’s flat. She could move into the flat above Josh’s café.
The tension between them since she’d walked out the other day was still there, but she could handle it. If anyone had a right to be annoyed it was her—one minute he was being all nice and ‘let’s go on a date’ and the next he was acting like a sullen teenager. With any luck, the whole will debacle would be sorted soon and she could leave.
Now she had two days to sort out the rest of the stuff. She also had yet to visit the Kings Cross flat. It was on her agenda for the day, right after she met with the Di Norros. Brie arrived a little ahead of schedule so she had a chance to catch up with Tam.
‘I feel like I haven’t seen you in an age,’ Tam declared, giving Brie a hug.
‘It’s been a bit crazy,’ Brie said, taking a seat.
‘Speaking of crazy, you missed a cracker of a Sloane-Kelly family dinner.’ Tam went on to describe a rather heated discussion between her mother and her gran’s new husband. ‘He wants Mum and my uncles to refer to him as Dad,’ Tam said.
‘No!’
Tam nodded. ‘Oh yes.’
‘What does your gran think of this?’
‘Bizarrely, she’s staying out of it. Sergei, that’s Gran’s hubby, has never been married before and has no children, but for some reason is adamant they call him Dad.’
‘Are you being asked to call him Grandpa?’
‘Nope,’ Tam said. ‘He wants me to refer to him as Mr Petrovsky. Anyway, Mum wants you to come to Easter lunch.’
‘When’s Easter?’
Tam looked at her as if she’d grown another head. ‘Have you been living under a rock? It’s this Sunday.’
‘Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve actually celebrated Easter.’
‘Ah, well then, you’re in for a treat. Come for the food, stay for the fireworks. You won’t be sorry. That is, unless you have plans already?’
Tam was referring to Josh, but now wasn’t the time to fill her in on the dramas with him. ‘No plans, I’d love to come. Just let me know what you’d like me to bring.’
‘Just your appetite and an open mind,’ Tam said as Brie spotted Sienna and her parents.
Brie warmed to the Di Norros immediately, and if Paulo’s dad was anything like him, it was no surprise Rosie had named a café after them.
‘I can’t tell you what an honour this is,’ Paulo said in reference to the café’s name. ‘My mother and father often spoke fondly of Rosie.’
‘It would seem that Rosie felt the same.’ Sadness bloomed. Why hadn’t Rosie told her about Albi and Ruby?
‘Do you remember her much? My grandmother?’ She was curious as to how much Sienna had told her parents about their conversation.
Paulo shook his head. ‘Not much. I do remember that she had blonde curly hair and that she spoke funny, which later I understood to be her accent. I remember Jimmy more.’
‘Jimmy?’ Brie’s pulse was racing. Jimmy was commonly short for James. It had to be the same person. ‘Rosie’s son?’
Paulo nodded. ‘Sienna said my dad may’ve been confused, but I’m not. I clearly remember Jimmy. We were the same age and loved playing together.’
Brie inhaled sharply. ‘Mr Di Norro—’
‘Please, call me Paulo.’
‘Paulo. Do you mind me asking, what year were you born?’
‘I was born in 1956. Jimmy and I apparently were playmates from when we were quite young, but I remember him more from our early days at school—we started kindergarten and we were together until we sold the Kings Cross deli and moved to Haberfield. We lost touch, as was normal. There were no mobile phones, email or Facebook back then.’
Brie’s mind was racing with questions. If Paulo and Jimmy met before they went to school, it proved that Rosie had arrived in Australia before 1962.
‘Sienna mentioned that your mother was Rosie’s daughter?’
‘Yes, her name was Maggie, but she wasn’t born until 1968.’
‘I never met her. We’d moved by then.’
Brie chewed nervously at her bottom lip. ‘What about Jimmy’s dad? Did you meet him?’
‘No, I can’t say I did. Sorry. I remember Papa saying once that Rosie was happier with the Americano, that it didn’t matter if he wasn’t Jimmy’s father, he was better for Rosie and Jimmy than the idiota.’
Brie sat stunned. She’d expected her meeting with the Di Norros to provide answers and confirm what she already suspected, not throw up more questions.
Who was the Americano? Was he her mother’s father?
‘I’ve upset you.’ Paulo furrowed his brows in concern. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No, don’t be,’ Brie said, expelling a shaky breath. ‘I need to be honest with you. Until Sienna gave me the deck of snap cards at Rosie’s wake, I had no clue my grandmother had a son. I grew up thinking my mother was an only child.’
‘And your mother, she never knew she had a brother? What happened to Jimmy?’
Brie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. My mother died when I was little. Rosie raised me on her own.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Bianca, Paulo’s wife, squeezed her hand sympathetically. ‘That must’ve been hard on you both.’
Rosie had done an amazing job and there were times when they would be out and people would mistake Rosie for her mother—it wasn’t hard, she favoured her grandmother. But Bianca was right—there were times it was hard not having her mother, and even harder not knowing her father.
‘It was, but Rosie did the best she could’ve.’ Brie meant her words, but she also wished Rosie had opened up to her about her past more. ‘We were close, so I’m trying to understand why she would’ve kept such a secret from me. When I first heard about Jimmy I thought that perhaps he and my mother shared the same father, but now I’m not so sure.’
‘Your mother never knew her father?’ Paulo sounded alarmed.
Brie shook her head.
‘I think my father assumed that whoever Rosie was with would be in her life forever. I remember he referred to Rosie and l’americano as being anime gemelle, soul mates. I wonder what happened?’
Brie was curious too. ‘Paulo, do you recall your father calling the American anything else? Did he refer to him by his name?’
‘No, sorry.’ He shrugged apologetically. ‘He was always il Americano.’
‘Hang on,’ Sienna interjected. ‘I remember Papa calling him capitano Americano once.’
All eyes turned to Sienna.
‘Remember, Dad? It was a few years back when there was the story about old American-style diners and he said it looked like the one that Rosie’s capitano Americano had, the one on Victoria Street.’
Brie felt her heart thundering as she connected the dots. Could it be, could it really be? The café, Josh’s café, was once an American diner that belonged to Rosie’s love? Was that why she’d kept it after all these years, even after she had sold every other café? ‘Victoria Street, Kings Cross?’ she asked carefully.
Paulo nodded. ‘Yes, Victoria Street, Kings Cross. Papa said it was close to the deli and also to where Jimmy and Rosie first lived; of course, then they moved into the flat above the diner.’
Brie closed her eyes. Rosie’s flat. Was that why she wanted to move to the flat, to be close to her Americano? What happened to him? Did he break her heart? Did he leave her? So many unanswered questions made her heart ache and her head hurt.
As soon as the Di Norros left, Tam made her way towards Brie. ‘You look like you could do with a drink.’
Brie didn’t doubt it. ‘Is it midday yet?’ It was certainly tempting.
‘No, but it is somewhere in the world. I can get John to whip you up a mimosa if you like.’
‘I thought you only served those on weekends?’
‘It’s Wednesday, close enough.’ Tam shrugged. ‘What do you say?’
‘I’d better not,’ Brie said. ‘I need to drive to the Cross to check out the flat, but if I find more secrets, then I might need you to bring me a whole bottle.’
Tam cocked her head. ‘You want to talk about it? At one point, your meeting seemed very intense.’
Brie gave her a rundown of the conversation, including the possible link to Josh’s café.
‘Oh my God, did you do a Google search?’
‘Not yet. I was going to check if the local library might hold historical records about the diner. If I had its original name, then I might be able to see who the owner was.’ Then she would know the name of Rosie’s Americano.
Tam nodded. ‘Good idea, or you might see them on the title deeds or whatever documents she has that show transfer of ownership.’
Brie’s head snapped up. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’ If Rosie had come into possession of the diner and the flat, there had to be paperwork somewhere. It wasn’t at the house so it had to be at the flat.
‘I need to go.’ Brie scraped back her chair with a sense of urgency.
‘Good luck,’ Tam called after her. ‘Call me if you want that bottle of wine.’
* * *
Half an hour later she was climbing the stairs to the flat, her mind solely focused on getting inside. Nervously, she fumbled the key and prayed that it would open. When she heard a click, relief flooded through her and gingerly she opened the door and gasped.
Brie didn’t know what she was expecting, but she wasn’t prepared for this. It was as if she was stepping onto the set of Mad Men, a show she’d often watched with Rosie.
The living area was quite spacious, with a powder-blue retro sofa, a glass-top coffee table with walnut legs and matching side tables all sitting on a plush cream shag-pile rug. The walls were adorned with abstract art and period furnishings—cushions, vases, table lamps and knick-knacks were scattered around.
The rest of the flat was decorated in the same vein—there was a small kitchenette to the right and two bedrooms that branched out from the main area with a tiny bathroom in between.
The room to the right was easily recognisable as that belonging to a young child, but unlike the living space, it was somewhat bare. No wall art or décor, just a single bed pushed against one wall, a wooden tallboy against the other. She yanked at the top drawer of the tallboy, which was stiff and stuck from years of obvious inactivity, but found it empty, as were the remaining drawers. A search of the rest of the room failed to uncover any further clues, but despite the lack of telltale signs, there was something boyish about the space and Brie wondered if this had been Jimmy’s room.
The room to the right was a little larger, with a double bed against the wall, a tall mahogany wardrobe and matching vanity and mirror. It too was devoid of warmth, but by the size of the bed and the look of the furniture, Brie could tell the room once had been shared by a couple.
The vanity was bare, save for a single key. She picked it up. It was smaller than the average house key, and as she looked around, Brie spotted locks on the wardrobe. She tried the door to the left, and as luck would have it, it swung open.
Brie gasped. There were boxes. Piles and piles of boxes all neatly stacked. She then tried the next door, then the next and discovered all three compartments contained a similar scene. It was a little overwhelming and daunting to think that there was more than fifty years of Rosie’s history here—maybe even some of her mother’s and hers, too. Debating where to start, she pulled out the first stack and dived in.
The first box was all about Brie. There were photos of her from every birthday, including photos of her mother that Brie had never seen before.
There was a whole stack of photos from her first year, each with Maggie and Brie, but the one that made her throat thick was a photo from her first birthday—Maggie holding Brie, her arms outstretched trying to grab the cake. Her mother looked so young—Maggie was only nineteen when she was born, still a baby herself. She flipped the photo over:
Brianna’s 1st Birthday!
12/6/88
Brie knew Rosie’s penmanship by heart and it wasn’t hers, so it had to be Maggie’s. Tears pricked. She couldn’t recall ever seeing her mother’s handwriting. She stared until her eyes blurred before sighing sadly.
The last stack of photos was of an exhausted-looking Maggie holding her newborn. It was bittersweet. She had never missed her mother so much as she did right now. In that photo Maggie looked so happy—it was as if she was planning Brie’s future, thinking of all the things she wanted to teach her, show her, share with her. In the end, Maggie had four short years with her baby before destiny delivered a cruel blow.
The rest of the boxes were all from various stages in her life. Brie in primary school, Brie in high school, even her university acceptance letter, the one that Josh had seen before she’d had a chance to tell him she was moving to New York to do an Applied Arts and Journalism degree.
‘What do you mean you’re moving to New York?’ Josh was pissed off. He was holding her acceptance letter, waving it about, and Brie wanted to tell him to stop, to put it down before he scrunched it up, or worse still, ripped it to shreds.
‘I was going to tell you—’
‘When, Brie? You’ve had this letter for weeks, for weeks! Did I not deserve to know you were even thinking of applying to overseas unis?’
‘Josh, I didn’t think I was going to get in! I mean, my photography so far has been amateur and I didn’t think—’
‘That’s the problem with you, Brie, you don’t think. You’ve been so spoiled by Rosie telling you that you can do whatever you want with your life that you don’t stop and think about anyone else.’
‘Spoiled? Me? Are you kidding, Josh? You of all people should know how far from the truth that is. Yes, Rosie’s supported and encouraged me to follow my dreams and passions, but spoiled me? Never. And it’s rich coming from you, Joshua Cooper, Eastern Suburbs blueblood who has his whole life mapped out for him.’ Brie was beyond angry now.
‘Is that how you see me? Just some rich kid?’
‘Josh, admit it—we come from different worlds, you and I. You grew up in a normal home, I was raised by my hippie grandmother.’
‘What has that got to do with anything?’
‘Josh, you know who you are and what you want in life. You know that you’re going to go to Sydney Uni, do a Bachelor of Commerce then work for your father. I don’t even know my father’s name. I don’t know who I am or where I belong, but I do know the moment I got this letter I wanted to go.’
Josh was silent, but really no words were needed: the pain in his eyes said it all.
‘I’m sorry to hurt you, Josh, but it’s better to know the truth now rather than …’
‘Rather than what, Brie?’ Josh prodded.
She exhaled slowly. ‘I need to do this, Josh. I need to go and find where I belong.’
‘You belong here, with Rosie, with … with me.’
‘Don’t ask me to choose between staying and going.’
‘You can travel to the ends of the earth, Brie, but one day you’ll realise that what you were looking for was right here all along. Only then it might be too late.’
She resented him then. Resented the threat in his voice. Resented that he said those words to hurt her.
‘Maybe this was a mistake.’
‘This?’ Josh asked.
‘This. Us. It was a mistake.’
Josh recoiled as if she’d slapped him. She purposely had said the words to hurt him and they had the intended effect.
‘You don’t mean that,’ he whispered.
Brie expelled a shaky breath. ‘I do.’
A knock on the door pulled Brie back to the present. It was only after she hauled herself off the floor and caught her reflection in the mirror that she realised she was crying. Hastily, she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and opened the door, half expecting Tam to be standing on the other side, but it wasn’t Tam.
‘Josh,’ she said his name equal parts curse and prayer. ‘What are you doing here?’ It took her three seconds to deduce that the brown paper bag in his hands contained some sort of Asian takeaway. Thai, if her nose was correct.
‘I noticed you go up a few hours ago …’ It took Josh two seconds to notice her face. ‘Brie, have you been crying?’
‘I, ah …’ She dropped her gaze, feeling somewhat caught unawares. ‘I was going through some of Rosie’s boxes and I didn’t realise how hard it would be.’
‘Did you find anything about James Fuller?’ Josh’s brows furrowed. He had automatically assumed her emotions were Rosie-based, and in part they were.
‘No,’ she said, rubbing the back of her neck. ‘That smells good.’ She nodded, realising he was still standing out in the hall with a bag of food.
‘Yeah, as I said, I saw you rush past, and when you didn’t come down I thought you might be hungry.’
‘You saw me?’ Brie was sure she had scurried past inconspicuously.
‘Actually, I heard you. I was in my office and heard footsteps. The only time any of my staff are allowed to come up is if there’s a bona fide emergency, but as soon as you kept trampling on, I knew it was you.’
‘Trampling?’ Brie cocked a brow. ‘I do not trample,’ she said indignantly.
‘Look, I’m here with a peace offering. And it’s not getting any warmer. So if you’re not interested in eating, then I’ll head back to my office. I have a shitload of paperwork to do.’
As if on cue, her stomach rumbled and she shrugged sheepishly. ‘I guess I could have a bite to tide me over to dinner.’ She moved aside to let Josh in.
‘Brie, it is dinner.’ Then, ‘Holy shit!’ he exclaimed when he took stock of the surroundings.
‘It’s a real blast from the past, huh?’
‘I’ll say,’ Josh mused as he placed the food on the formica laminate countertop. ‘It’s like stepping back in time.’ He ran his hand along the walnut buffet and whistled. ‘This is top-shelf stuff. I’ve got a few mid-century replica pieces at home, but this is the real deal.’
‘It’s old, yet so new, right? I almost feel like I’m perverting the place being here. I mean, you can tell no one has lived here for years. But look at the kitchen.’ She gesticulated to the solid wood panel cabinets and mustard-yellow bench top. ‘It looks like it was newly renovated and never used. I’m not sure if there’s any cutlery or glasses.’
‘More importantly,’ Josh moved past her, opening and closing drawers and doors, ‘is there any wine?’
They found plates, forks, even some glasses, but sadly no wine.
‘I’ll be back in a tick.’ Josh raced out and was back just as Brie finished opening all the containers. She was right—it was Thai. Her mouth was salivating, and her stomach literally tying itself up in knots from hunger.
‘Got it!’ Josh bounded in, brandishing a bottle of red and two wineglasses.
‘Did you pilfer the bottle from the café?’
‘It’s from my stockroom.’ He unscrewed the lid and poured them both a generous measure. ‘I think I’m allowed to pilfer now and then, don’t you think?’
Brie shrugged. ‘You’re the boss.’
Josh lifted his glass. ‘To peace offerings.’
‘To old friends.’ Brie chinked her glass against his and took a sip. A look flashed across his face, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared and she couldn’t be sure that she hadn’t imagined it.
‘Although, I think it’s I who should be apologising. I shouldn’t have walked out of the café last week the way I did.’
‘You said sorry when I called you at the hospital,’ Josh said. ‘I should’ve been a little more gracious.’
Unsure how to respond, Brie shrugged again and directed their attention to the food. ‘We should eat before this gets cold.’
Brie was glad the tension between them had dissipated, and over pad kee mao and massaman curry the conversation flowed easily.
‘God, this is divine!’ Brie moaned as she fished the last bit of meat from her bowl. ‘I can’t remember the last time I had Thai this good.’
‘The area has become quite gentrified and there are loads of great places to eat.’
‘Do you eat much in the Cross?’ Brie asked, realising she had no idea where Josh actually lived. For some reason, she assumed it was somewhere in the Eastern Suburbs.
‘A fair bit. I live not far from here, about a ten-minute walk. When I got the café, it made sense to move close. When I first found out about this place,’ he nodded in reference to the flat, ‘I was kind of hoping Rosie would lease it to me. Actually, I wanted to buy the whole place, but it soon became apparent that Rosie had no intention of leasing the flat, let alone selling. I knew that it eventually would be yours.’
‘It’s not mine, not until all this stuff with the will has been sorted.’
‘Has Rosie’s solicitor given you a timeline for that? You must be keen to get home.’
‘Home?’
‘Home. Japan. Narita. Isn’t that where you live?’
Brie blinked. She almost told him that all her belongings from Narita were here in Sydney with her. There really wasn’t anything that tied her to Japan anymore, but of all people, Josh was the last person she wanted to admit this to.
‘Um, Joe’s going to try to get it all sorted as quickly as possible. It might need to go to court, and depending on the outcome, you might end up with a new landlord.’
‘And then you’ll leave.’
He said it as a statement, but it was the tone in which he delivered it that bothered her. It was as if he was goading her. Why did he have to go and stir up trouble? They were getting on so well.
‘Of course I’ll leave. Josh, what do you expect me to say? That I’m going to stay? For me to do that, there needs to be a reason …’
He looked at her dead in the eyes, holding her gaze hostage. ‘But. There’s a but in there, isn’t there?’
Brie sighed. ‘We work better as friends, Josh. We both know that.’
He nodded as if the words that had tumbled out of her mouth were exactly what he’d expected. ‘I’d better get going.’ He drained the rest of his wine and stood. ‘That paperwork isn’t going to do itself.’
‘Josh, wait …’ He paused as Brie searched for the words, but there was a discord between her head and her heart. What was she going to say? That she regretted saying they’d been a mistake? That she still had feelings for him? There wasn’t a point. When all this was over, she would leave. She didn’t know where she would go, but she knew it wouldn’t be here.
Josh needed someone who knew who they were and where they belonged. And that wasn’t her.
When Brie failed to say anything, he lifted a hand and gave a brief wave. ‘See you, Brie.’ He clicked the door softly on his way out, his footsteps echoing as he climbed down one flight to his office, and a moment later the slamming of a door made her jump.
Brie pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. She felt like shit, but was there any other way around this? Sighing, she poured another glass of wine and headed back into the room.
There were a whole lot of boxes that pertained to the different cafés Rosie had owned throughout the years, including the lease to Café Floss. There was nothing about the lease that was unusual, except for two little words.
Maggie’s Diner.
It reminded her of the conversation with the Di Norros and how Rosie’s Americano used to own a diner on Victoria Street. Could it be the same diner? Did Rosie name her mother after Maggie’s Diner?
Brie sifted through the rest of the boxes, scouring to find any more information about the diner in the hope that she would discover the name of Rosie’s American.
She didn’t find it, but she did find a sealed foolscap-sized envelope. There was no name, no address, no markings on the front, but the fact that it was sealed and buried at the very bottom told Brie volumes.
Slowly, she slid her finger along the closed edge and pulled out the contents. There were a number of papers bound together with a red ribbon. Brie unravelled the bow and discovered a marriage certificate. Then there were two birth certificates and finally three death certificates.
Each piece of paper was an integral piece of the puzzle, each provided answers but also questions. Brie looked inside the envelope—there were still two items inside. One was folded and was so small, it was tucked in the corner. She shook them out and saw that the paper was in fact a newspaper article, and the other a smaller envelope that seemed to contain photos, and when she pulled them out her heart stopped.
Over sixty years of history was laid before her. Every secret, everything that bound three generations of Hart women was in her hands.
She knew there were two James Fullers and one of them died a long time ago. Way before Maggie was born.
She knew who Jack Reid was. She knew why he wasn’t in Rosie’s life anymore. And she was pretty sure from the photo in her hands, she knew who her father was. Rosie had known all along. The photo was proof.
The only question that remained was why had Rosie kept this all hidden?