Clad in pajamas, she lay on the sofa, the book in her hand, open, but unread. I've been in a movie. Every little girl's dream come true. And, no one will ever know.
So many secrets to keep. Listening to those around her talk about Madame—most difficult when they asked for her opinion. “What do you think?” the students said, expecting her to have all the answers. After all, she was the principal. “What do you think?” the teachers asked, wanting her opinion. After all, she was the Boss.
What did she think? It would be so easy to believe it was a dream, so easy to dismiss it all as a mental aberration, so very much easier to pretend none of it was real. She snorted. Impossible to dismiss the voice, the ring, the wounds she sometimes came home with—all self inflicted. Cuts and bruises from machetes and thorns and klutzy stumbles and.... Too many languages rang in her ears, too many voices reverberated in her head— especially his. That voice. The one that took her up, up and away.
The phone rang. She reached out to the coffee table, grabbed it, considered letting voice mail pick up, and finally answered after six rings.
“It's time for the party.” That voice again.
*
They were high on champagne and the success of the movie. This party was for the cast and crew, their spouses, and a few select guests. Ron had invited Gram but she had refused, saying the evening was for him. She helped him with his tux and tie. The kids presented him with a red rose for his lapel and sent him off in the studio limo with advice to enjoy himself and bask in the glory.
The six of them had been circulating and now stood together chatting. Em joined them, but no one had seen her arrive.
“You were awesome. Thank you so much. Allan, I know this was a lot of work, but I’m convinced the final product is worth every minute. And you still have your hair.”
“But it is a lot thinner and grayer,” he protested as his wife rolled her eyes.
“Liar!” Em laughed. “Jamie, you were a wonderful heroine. Beautiful, kind, brave, like your true self, I think.”
“Thank you, Madame. That is the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, but the real me isn’t quite that virtuous.”
“Maybe not, but close. Vicky, you make a wonderful friend and your sense of humor was a delightful addition to the role.” Vicky blushed.
“Ian, I had no idea you could be such an old curmudgeon.”
“I did,” his wife said dryly and everyone laughed.
“Shane, I could easily have fallen in love with your character.”
“Not with the real me?” He pretended grave hurt.
“Yes, with the real you too.” Em winked at Shane’s wife.
“Ron, what can I say? You make the perfect
hero.” She hugged them each in turn. “Madame, I’ve been asked to speak on behalf of the group,” Allan began. “You gave me an incredible opportunity to make a movie with no constraints, no budgetary woes and no interference—except from actors that is.” The others groaned and rolled their eyes.
“Get on with it,” Ian ordered.
“We want you to know that if there is ever anything we can do for you, just say the word.”
“Thank you. Actually there is something. Ron, I would like to borrow you for two or three days.” There, she’d done it. Made her move. She felt tingly with anticipation. Soon. Soon, she’d be alone with Ron.
“Wh—?” Jamie began, but Ian nudged her to silence.
“Will you help me?” Em asked.
Ron stood there with a stunned look on his face.
Shane elbowed him. “Sheesh Ron, answer the lady.”
“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “Of course I’ll help.”