I nodded.
"Frances is still putting on those dresses and pretending she's this one and that one?" Mrs. DeMarco asked us.
"Yes, ma'am. She likes to dress up in something for dinner. At least she has since I've come." I said.
"Poor Frances. She was caught somewhere between childhood and adulthood, afraid to step too far back and terrified of stepping ahead," she said. "Can't blame her. Look where it takes you." she added, nodding at her room. "Four walls and a window, cafeteria food, people having the same conversations day in and day out, forgetting they've told you about themselves and their families a dozen times, if they've told you once. I've got diabetes, a heart that's sick of hearing itself beat, and a closet full of old clothes I'm ashamed to give away. I get tired of the echo of my own thoughts, but when you're alone, it's all you hear."
"Doesn't your son come to visit you?" Alanis asked.
"Yes, when that wife of his loosens the leash a little. I've got a daughter living in Canada. Did I tell you?"
"No, ma'am," I said.
"If I repeat myself, you just let me know. I hate repeating myself."
"Why were you in the a
ttic?" Alanis asked as if she hadn't asked before.
"Do you know what I did when I was younger?" Mrs. DeMarco asked instead of answering. She looked to me for a reply.
"No, ma'am," I said.
"All we know about you is your name, the telephone number and your son and this." Alanis said, holding out her hands.
"I was a pretty good nurse. You know, more often than not, a good nurse does as much as if not more than the doctor, especially when it involves women. I can't tell you how many times I've had to remind a doctor what was wrong with his patient, why he was treating this patient or that and what he had prescribed. Take my advice, don't get sick and if you do, stay out of hospitals. If you're not dying when you're admitted, you will be soon after," she said.
"But where else are you supposed to go if you're very sick?" I asked.
"Don't get very sick," she said and then smiled. "I'd know you were from the Wilkens line of women anywhere." she said. Then she straightened up. "I was a CNM, a certified nurse midwife. Do you know what that is?"
I shook my head.
"I'm not sure," Alanis said.
"Midwives are nurses who can assist in childbirth. We are trained in prenatal care, making sure the pregnant woman eats right, takes the right vitamins and supplements, exercises, avoids bad things. In short, my little Nancy Drews, there wasn't simply a baby living in the attic. There was a baby born in the attic, and I attended and oversaw the birth. If I didn't have this terrible arthritis," she continued and showed us how twisted her fingers were. "and I wasn't a severe and brittle diabetic, and I didn't have a traitorous heart, I might still be working and on my own out there," she said, nodding at the window. "Instead. I've been put out to pasture and this is the pasture.
"Some days," she continued. "I feel like getting up and going out and walking and walking to my grave plot next to my husband's and hopefully expiring right on it. But." she said, waving her hand and arm as best she could. "this isn't proper talk for you two young girls to hear. Old age is still a dream or a nightmare, some sort of fantasy to you. I'm sure you can't imagine being in this chair and in this place. I'm sure you never see yourself as old and crippled."
"No." Alanis said. I think she was thinking it so hard it just came out.
Mrs. DeMarco smiled.
"Nor should you. Now where was I?"
"You told us a baby was born in the attic." Alanis reminded her.
"And lived there for a short period, or at least until Emma was ready to take him away."
"So, her father was born in the attic?" Alanis quickly followed.
I looked at her and then back at Mrs. DeMarco. That wasn't what I had been told. Why would my father have been born in the farmhouse anyway? And why up in an attic? We were always a rich family. That made no sense. Maybe she was already losing her memory and getting things confused.
"Yes, that's correct." she said without hesitation. "I guess with Emma in a hospital and Frances dancing in another world, and especially with Blake March gone. I'm not bound by any promises and oaths. I didn't get enough for it all anyway," she added. She leaned toward me. "Sold my soul too cheaply."
Alanis smiled, "I bet I know what happened." she said. "Her grandmother had an affair and got pregnant, right? They kept it a big secret and she gave birth in the attic, right?"
"An affair?" I asked Alanis. -"My