Taking Care of Mrs. Carroll

by Paul Monette

  "All grown up," I said. "How about you?"

  "Me?" She shrugged so deeply that her shoulders lifted up to her ears. "The same as ever. Like a movie star."

  I couldn't whisper at great distances as Madeleine could, so I leaned even closer. I would never tell her this, but she looked just then like none of the women she'd played. She looked like their mother. As for me, I wasn't worried at all that we'd blow our best lines. We've survived, I thought, because we don't remember to be afraid.

  "How do movie stars feel?" I asked, and a rocket went off that, for the space of a held breath, threw off the night. We were unearthly bright, like a summer day.

  "Fabulous," she said.