Marge tried to appear casual as she wrote in her notebook. Just coincidence? Marge didn’t believe in coincidences.

“It was a long time ago.” Tandy’s eyes seemed far away. “I was very, very young…and stupid. I used to be a model. A scumbag in the industry got me pregnant. He offered me five grand to have an abortion because he didn’t want his boyfriend knowing he was bi, can you believe that? I refused the money. I should have taken it, ’cause I miscarried in my sixth month. Bret gave me a couple of g’s anyway not to blow his cover. I had lousy taste in men. If you knew my dad…doesn’t Freud say we go for our fathers?”

“Sounds like Freud,” Marge said.

Tandy bit her lip. “I was in a bad way for a while, but I pulled out of it.”

“How old were you when you lost the baby?”

“Fif…no, sixteen actually. I was sixteen by the time I miscarried.” She picked up Marge’s orange juice and took a sip. “What does that have to do with Marie?”

“Do you know how old Marie was when she lost her baby?”

“I dunno, older than I was. Around twenty maybe. She said it turned her life around, forced her to look inward. She found Jesus and became a caring person. That’s why she went into nursing.”

“Did losing a baby turn your life around?”

“Why are you always coming back to me?”

“Just trying to get some parallel that might make me understand Marie better.”

“How will talking about me make you understand Marie?”

“Can you just indulge me, Tandy?”

Tandy flipped her braid over her shoulder. “Buffing turned my life around. First time I’ve ever felt in control.”

Marge was silent, thinking how Tandy emphasized the word control.

Control over what?

She said, “Why did you become a nurse, Tandy?”

“I wish I could say it was for some Florence Nightingale reason, but the truth was, I needed a job.” Tandy laughed bitterly. “Can’t exactly model if you weigh three hundred pounds, can you?”

Marge tried to look surprised. “You?”

Tandy’s smile was genuine. “Hard to believe, huh?”

“Impossible.”

“It’s the truth. Anyway, I became a nurse ’cause I needed a job. No one would hire me as a secretary ’cause I was too fat. But no one cares what you look like in an old-age home. I started out changing bedpans, went to school at night, and became an L.V.N.”

“That’s turning your life around,” Marge said.