Josie

Buttoning up his shirt, Nik walked into the bathroom as Josie retrieved a tampon from the vanity cupboard.

‘Bugger,’ he said, nodding towards the packet and then taking her in his arms. ‘You okay?’

‘Yes. I am,’ she told him truthfully, but didn’t add that she was strangely relieved. The past few weeks she’d finally been beginning to feel like herself again and although part of her desperately wanted to find herself pregnant, the fear of what could happen if she was had been eating her up these last couple of days while she’d been waiting for her period. This felt like a temporary reprieve from that anxiety.

‘Do you want me to call in sick to work? We could order in pizza and watch a movie.’

‘No, it’s fine.’ Pizza and a movie were on her agenda, but not with him. ‘Remember, I told you, I have plans tonight.’

He raised an eyebrow and started on his buttons again. ‘That’s right, Saturday night and you’re going to hang out with some strange old woman.’

His tone was teasing but there was also an element of disbelief in it. Did he think Brenda was a ruse and really she was off out on the town to drink her sorrows? She made a mental note to take a selfie of them together and send it to him. Perhaps she’d send it to Clara as well, although she wasn’t sure whether she’d have reception on the ship.

‘She’s not strange.’ Josie swatted him. ‘She’s lonely and not very mobile. I’m doing a favour for Clara, but it’s actually a real pleasure to spend time with her. I like listening to her stories and it beats sitting home alone with my thoughts. Go, I’m honestly fine and you can’t keep cancelling work on my account or you’ll have no job left to go to.’

‘Alright. Well, you call me if you need to talk or anything, okay?’ He kissed her firmly on the lips.

‘I will.’ She smiled and then shoved him out of the bathroom.

When she was done, she packed some microwave popcorn, a few cans of soft drink and some other treats into a bag and then drove the short distance to Brenda’s place.

‘Hello, love.’ The older woman’s face lit up as she opened the door and Josie glowed inside at the knowledge she was making someone’s night better.

‘How are you feeling today?’ she asked as they went into the kitchen, Josie walking slowly to keep in step with Brenda’s shuffling.

‘Can’t complain, but it’s lovely to see you, dear.’

Josie smiled; she got the feeling Brenda wasn’t the type to complain about much. She’d seen her twice already this week—once for their first movie night on Tuesday, and then she’d popped in yesterday morning on her way to school to see if there was anything Brenda needed her to grab from the shops. But Clara had left her cupboards well stocked and the visits were more about company than anything else. And Josie had meant it when she’d told Nik she enjoyed spending time here; old people had a lot of wisdom to offer if you bothered to pay attention.

‘So, what kind of pizza do you like?’ she asked now as she put her bags on the table. ‘Are there any toppings you definitely don’t want?’

Brenda’s eyes widened. ‘My pizzas are usually in a box from the freezer in the supermarket, I’ve never had it home delivered before. Is it like a restaurant? Can you really pick and choose what you want?’

‘You really can.’ Josie stifled a chuckle. ‘So what’s it to be? Pineapple? Anchovies? Mushrooms? Let’s go to town. I’m feeling like indulging tonight.’

‘Oh, is something wrong, dear?’

Josie considered telling her about her period but decided that was probably too much information at this stage in their relationship. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I’m all good, but any excuse to indulge I reckon.’

Brenda laughed. Together they concocted a fantasy pizza and then Josie called it in to the local Italian restaurant.

‘Next step, the movie,’ Brenda said. ‘What are you in the mood for?’

‘Something funny,’ Josie replied. ‘Any suggestions?’

‘Why don’t you come and peruse my collection? I’m sorry but I need to sit down anyway, I can’t stand on this foot for long.’

‘Oh God, I’m sorry, I should have thought.’ Josie ushered Brenda into the living room and helped her into her recliner. She draped a crocheted rug over her knees and then turned her attention to the shelves.

‘What’s this one about?’ she asked holding up a movie called My Favourite Wife.

Brenda smiled. ‘That was one of the few movies my husband and I agreed on. Generally, he preferred action films.’

‘Nik’s the same,’ Josie said. ‘Unless there’s a massive body count, he doesn’t think it’s worth watching. So what’s it about?’

‘A lawyer whose wife has been missing for seven years. Finally, he marries someone else, and while he’s on his honeymoon with the new wife, the old one turns up. She’d been stranded on a deserted island all that time.’

‘I’m up for that.’ Josie popped it in the DVD player and went off to get the drinks.

‘Thank you, dear,’ Brenda said when she returned a few moments later. ‘It’s nice to have company. I really enjoyed watching The Graduate with you the other night. It’s been a long time since I had someone to watch movies with.’

Josie took to the couch. ‘Rob doesn’t watch movies with you?’

‘Not really. Between you and me, he’s not always that good company. I’m not sure how much Clara has told you about him?’

‘Not much; she mentioned he struggles with addiction.’

‘Yes. He’s fond of the bottle alright and that only makes the depression he’s battled for years worse. Not that he ever admitted he had a problem.’ Brenda sighed sadly. ‘I always wondered if things would have been different if his father hadn’t died, if he’d had a strong male role model growing up.’

‘How did he?’ Josie hoped Brenda didn’t mind the question.

‘In a mining accident. He worked in the Cobar gold mines long before occupational health and safety was a priority. He was underground when a concrete block fell down the raise and crushed him. They tell me it was instant. Robbie was only two.’ She nodded to a photo frame above the TV. ‘That’s them a couple of weeks before Mal died. He was such a good husband and father.’

As Josie gazed at the photo of a young man in faded jeans and a Bonds Chesty singlet with a little boy with what looked like Vegemite smeared on his cheeks, her heart ached for Brenda. She’d lost her love so young and now it looked like she might have lost her only son as well.

‘He looks lovely,’ Josie said. ‘But you were widowed so young, did you never find anyone else?’

‘No. It’s hard meeting people when you’re a single mum with no real family support, but it would have been nice. I always wanted a big family and would have loved more kids.’

A few weeks ago, this admission would have irritated Josie—at least Brenda had managed to have one child—but now she could sympathise; life had a habit of turning out completely different to how you expected or wanted it to.

‘I’m not sure Clara told you, but I met your son,’ Josie said, wanting to give Brenda something positive to hold onto.

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. A couple of months ago, we met outside a pub and started chatting. He was a good listener and I poured my heart out to him. He was the one who gave me Clara’s number.’

Brenda smiled gratefully at Josie. ‘I try not to talk about him in front of Clara. The poor love did put up with a lot. She didn’t give up easily and she did her best; she got him into AA a few times but he never lasted. There’s nothing anyone else can do for people like Robbie. In the end, they have to help themselves. He’s a lost soul but he’s got a heart of gold beneath his problems. Such a shame, he was very musically talented, you know?’

This piqued Josie’s interest. ‘Really? Did he play an instrument?’

‘Oh, he played many, but his passion was singing and songwriting. His band did quite well for themselves for a while. There’s a picture up there on the wall of them if you want to see it.’

Josie got up and went over to look properly. ‘Oh my God,’ she shrieked. ‘Your son was part of One Track Mind?’

‘You know them?’ Brenda sounded surprised. ‘I thought they’d be long before your time.’

‘I was barely born when they were together but I love eighties music and I’ve actually got their LPs.’ There’d been two albums, but the first was the only one anyone remembered. ‘I collect them,’ she added.

‘Wow.’ Brenda looked chuffed by this.

‘I knew he looked familiar.’ She wanted to kick herself—she couldn’t believe she hadn’t worked out why at the time. Of course if she had, there’d have been no way she’d have spilled her guts to him; she’d have been too starstruck to speak.

‘Robbie collected LPs as well. Those boxes over there in the corner are full of them.’

‘Can I take a look?’

‘Of course. Go ahead.’

Josie crossed to the corner, opened the first box and began rifling through the records. It felt like Christmas as she oohed and ahhed over albums by Queen, Duran Duran, Pink Floyd and many, many more.

But, as she put a Dire Straits LP back in the first box and turned to start on the second, she glanced over to see Brenda’s smile had fallen. ‘It’s so nice to see someone else getting joy from Robbie’s things,’ she said with a sniff. ‘He might not be perfect, but he’s my boy and I miss him.’

Josie’s heart hurt for the other woman. ‘Don’t lose hope,’ she said, abandoning the record and going across to take the older woman by the hand. ‘I’m sure he’ll turn up.’

She wasn’t sure of any such thing, but she hoped it was the truth for Brenda’s sake.

The movie forgotten, Josie held up the One Track Mind album she’d just found. ‘Do you have anything to play this on?’ she asked, thinking maybe Brenda would quite like to hear her son’s voice.

‘Robbie’s record player is over there, in the other corner. It might be a bit dusty, but I think it still works.’

Josie leapt to her feet, and carried the LP as if it were made of gold. She couldn’t believe she was holding Robbie Jones’s copy of one of her favourite albums. Why had Clara never mentioned who her ex-husband was? Her school friends had thought her obsession with eighties music crazy and a little embarrassing, but she’d always loved it way more than modern stuff. One Track Mind was a unique sound too. Not quite hard rock, but much rawer than pop.

After a little fiddling, she managed to get it to work and the notes of ‘Lost Without You, Baby’ filled the air. Brenda smiled again as Josie sang along.

‘Was that song about Clara?’ Josie asked, turning the music down slightly as the next song began.

‘No,’ Brenda’s one word came out as a whisper.

‘Was it about anyone?’ Josie would be disappointed to hear that there wasn’t some heartbreaking love story behind one of her favourite songs.

‘Yes.’ Brenda paused a moment, then, ‘It was about his son.’

Josie felt her eyes widen. ‘But Clara and Robbie didn’t have kids.’ And she was sure Clara had said the baby that had been stillborn was a girl.

Brenda rubbed her lips together as if unsure whether she should say any more. ‘It’s never been common knowledge but Robbie’s high school sweetheart had a baby. It was adopted out.’

Josie’s heart went cold. She’d sympathised with Rob’s alcoholism when she’d thought it stemmed from the stillbirth and miscarriages, but adoption … ‘How old was he?’

‘He was seventeen, but the girl was only fifteen. Under the legal age when she conceived. He was desperately in love with her, as much as any teenaged boy can be, but her parents weren’t having any of it. Her father was the local cop—there was rumours in Cobar he was corrupt, or at least a little rough-handed, especially with the Aboriginal folk that were unlucky enough to cross his path. Anyway,’ she shook her head, ‘let’s just say Robbie wasn’t given much choice in the matter. Maybe we both should have fought harder to take the baby, but I could barely pay the bills as it was. Robbie would have had to leave school, get a job—between that and being a dad he wouldn’t have had time for his music.

‘I thought it was the right thing at the time, but it changed him. When he met Clara and his band got the record deal, I thought he was going to be okay. But when they couldn’t have children … I think Robbie blamed himself. He figured since he gave up one child, he didn’t deserve another.’

A lump grew in Josie’s throat. ‘That’s so sad.’

Not only had Brenda lost a husband and a son, but somewhere she had a grandson she didn’t know as well. It made Josie all the more determined to take her under her wing.

‘All we can hope is that the baby found a good home, had a good life.’

And although it was something she rarely spoke about, Josie found herself saying, ‘I was adopted.’

Brenda blinked. ‘Really?’

‘Yes. And I landed on my feet with my parents. I bet your grandson did too.’

‘Do you know your real parents?’

Josie shook her head, trying not to bristle at the word ‘real’—she knew Brenda didn’t mean any harm.

When Josie was a kid the possibility of finding her ‘biological’ family—as was the term her parents used—seemed so far off in the distant future that she never gave it much thought. Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn’t. But as the day grew closer where legally she could start a search, she’d come to the conclusion that she didn’t want or need to know.

What if things changed when she found her ‘biological’ mother?

She was so utterly close to her mum and dad that she couldn’t bear the thought of their relationship being affected. And she’d read horror stories about adopted kids seeking their roots. Yes, there were some happy endings, but a lot of the time they didn’t like what they found.

What if her mum was a druggie? Or in jail? Would Josie feel obliged to help her? Or what if she still didn’t want anything to do with Josie? Whenever she thought about possible rejection, she grew so anxious she made herself physically ill. There were simply too many unanswered questions. And, if the woman who’d carried her for nine months wanted to find her, surely she’d come looking?

‘My folks always said they’d be okay with me finding them if I wanted to,’ she told Brenda, ‘but I’ve just never had that yearning. It was actually kinda cool being the adopted kid. Most of the other kids in my class came from boring two-parent-two-point-three-kid families and I used to love telling them that my parents had chosen me, whereas theirs didn’t have a choice. I used to dream there was some kind of baby shop where childless couples went to select a baby from a whole bunch of wailing newborns. A little bit like the cabbage patch, which were where my favourite dolls came from.’

She chuckled and so did Brenda.

‘Did Robbie ever look for his baby?’ Josie asked.

‘He tried. He always wanted to find his son, but his name wasn’t on the birth certificate and although he and Clara did what they could to look for him, they never had any luck.’

Before Josie had time to digest this, the doorbell rang signalling the arrival of their dinner.

‘I’ll get it.’ She hurried to the door.

Brenda sniffed the air as Josie returned to the living room with the pizza and garlic bread. ‘Hmm, that smells good. I guess we’d better start that movie now too or it’ll be very late before it’s finished and, unlike you young things, I do need my beauty sleep.’

‘Good idea,’ Josie said with a smile. ‘You press play and I’ll go get the plates.’