"Yeah, you was born, but right before you was, your grandmother decided she couldn't live with the lie in the hotel after all. I guess it was eating away at her seeing Laura Sue grow bigger and bigger with child, and seeing people fawn over her and talk about a new grandchild, while she knew that child wasn't truly her grandchild. Plus, your mother took every chance she could to gloat in front of your grandmother. That was her big mistake."
"What did she do?" I asked, my heart beginning to pound. I was afraid to breathe too loudly for fear Mrs. Dalton would stop or go off on another subject.
"She confronted Laura Sue. I was already working at the hotel, taking care of her in her last month and staying where I would stay in the nursery after you was born. So I was close by," she added, pulling herself up in the wheelchair and raising her eyebrows.
"You mean you overheard what was said?" I asked. I didn't want to say "eavesdropped." I could see she was sensitive about it.
"I would have found out most of it anyway. They needed me and had to tell."
"Needed you?" I was confused. "Why?"
"Your grandmother had come up with the plan. She rescinded her original agreement with your mother and told her she had to give up the baby. As long as she did that, your grandmother would keep her infidelity a secret, and she could continue to be Princess of Cutler's Cove."
"What did my mother say? There must have been a terrible argument." Despite my mother's illusion of illness, I suspected she could be quite strong-willed when she wanted. When it suited her advantage.
"No argument at all. Your mother was too self-centered and pampered. She was afraid to lose the good life, so she agreed to the ruse."
"Ruse? What ruse?"
"The plan, child. Sally Jean Longchamp had just given birth to a stillborn, as you know. Your grandmother went to her and to Ormand and made a deal with them—they were to abduct the newborn baby. She gave them jewelry and money to help them afford an escape.
"Sally Jean was upset about just losing a child, and here was Grandmother Cutler offering her another one, a child nobody seemed to want anyway. Laura Sue had agreed, and I think they were told that Randolph had too. I can't say for certain about that.
"Your grandmother worked it all out with them and promised to cover their escape well and send the police off in the wrong directions.
"Then she come to me," Mrs. Dalton said and looked down. "I couldn't disagree with her when she said Laura Sue would make a terrible mother. I could see how she was with Philip. She never had any time for him. Too busy lunching or shopping or sunning by the pool. And your grandmother was very upset about the child not being a true Cutler.
"Anyway, she offered me a full year's salary to cooperate. It was a lot of money for just turning my back, and since neither your grandmother nor your mother wanted the baby . . . well, I did as she asked and made myself scarce, went down to Mary Boston's room and waited while Ormand went in and abducted you.
"Mary knew what was happening. She had picked up a hint or two here and there, and then I told her the rest. She never liked your mother. Not many of the staff cared for her, because she was so spoiled and talked down to them.
"Anyway, Mary and I both felt sorry for Sally Jean Longchamp, who had just lost a child she wanted. We thought it was all a good idea. Nobody would be worse off for it.
"Apparently, Randolph still didn't know what was happening and what had happened, so your grandmother continued the ruse by offering a reward. There were times when we thought the police had located Ormand and Sally. Randolph went off to identify the suspects, but it was never them. The rest I guess you know.
"Except," she said, looking down at her hands in her lap, "it got so I regretted my part. No matter how bad a mother Laura Sue would have been and how much Ormand and Sally Jean wanted another child, it was still wrong. They were made into fugitives; you grew up believing you were their daughter, and poor Randolph appeared to be suffering something terrible thinking his newborn baby had been taken.
"I was tempted a few times to tell him the truth, but every time I set out to do that, I lost my courage. Mary kept saying it was for the best anyway. And my daughter . . . she was scared about what might happen if we crossed old Mrs. Cutler, and she and my son-in-law have had enough trouble just caring for me.
"Not long afterward, though, your mother had Clara, and they put that little tombstone in the cemetery to put your memory to rest forever."
"I know; I've seen it."
"I felt terrible about it. I went to look at it myself, and I knew God was watching me. Before long I began to get sick. I got sicker and sicker until you see me now.
"And now you've come back and I'm glad," she said with a sudden burst of energy and strength. "You're my redemption. I can make my peace with the Lord knowing I've told you the truth. I'm sorry, too. I can't right the wrong, but I can tell you I'm sorry I was any part of it.
"You're too young to know and appreciate what forgiveness means, child, but I sure hope someday you can find it in your heart to forgive ole, sick Lila Dalton," she said, smiling softly, hopefully.
"You're not the one who has to ask for forgiveness, Mrs. Dalton," I replied. "You thought you were doing the right thing at the time, even something that would be better for me.
"But," I added, my eyes burning, "Ormand Longchamp shouldn't be sitting in that jail and taking all the blame."
"No, I suppose not."
"Would you tell the truth now, if you were asked to?" I inquired hopefully. "Or are you still afraid of what might happen?"
"I'm too old and too sick to be afraid of anyone or anything anymore," she said. "I'd do what I had to do to make my peace with God."