“But no one knows if the story about the curse is true,” Corinne said.

“Well, I for one wouldn’t live in that house for all the money in the world,” Judy sniffed.

“I’m sure all it needs is someone to really love it,” Dolly insisted.

“Oh, they loved it, all right,” Mrs. Fryt said. “And you can see where it got them.”

Chapter 4

THE MICKELSON HOUSE
502 W. First Street, Pine Rapids
March 1897

Wilma’s body was utterly, painfully out of her control.

Always, she had cultivated a cautious relationship with it, distrusting it, doing her utmost to keep it in check. It frequently got out of hand when she played the piano, becoming possessed by the music, swaying and moving and breathing with far too much relish and zest. A delicious feeling, in truth, but the minute she stopped playing, she would feel ashamed, and resolve not to let the music get the best of her the next time.

But now her body’s rebellion was more horrifying than ever. It had grown huge, distorted. It desired unseemly amounts of foods she had never cared for. It was too ungainly even to sleep in, and when she walked, she felt she was being pulled behind a royal entity with a will of its own. Each day when the maid Terese laced Wilma into her dreadful “maternity corset,” a complicated contraption with five separate sets of laces on the back, front, and sides, the maid was forced to lace it a little looser around Wilma’s midsection, which continued to expand without Wilma’s consent.

The worst thing about her condition was that she could hardly play the piano. She could hardly reach it! Not a decent range, anyway. This morning, in the middle of practicing her scales, she’d screamed in frustration, pounded the keys, and collapsed in tears onto the piano’s sturdy forehead, pressing her own temple there as though it were a lover with whom she was trying desperately to regain a past understanding. Terese had come to inquire, and suggested Wilma go for a walk, to clear her head. “It’s a lovely day out, ma’am, quite warm, and I’m sure you’d feel better getting some fresh air. You’ve been cooped up in the house all winter! Perhaps just a short walk around the block; mind you don’t go downtown and let folks see you in your condition.”