“Look at the chairs, Mom. Look at the chairs!” The chairs look like they’re made from life-size bottle caps. Larger-than-life cocktail umbrellas spout over the tables. We sit in a booth that has enormous plates stacked between ours and the next one. They must be ten feet tall. Paige turns around in her seat to tap it with her knuckles. “I didn’t know they made plates this big,” she says solemnly.

Mateo sits next to her and reads the entire menu off in French. Paige laughs the entire time. “So?” he asks when he’s finished. “What do you want to eat?”

“You forgot to read it in English.”

His eyes go wide. “My God. I did. Here. I’ll read it again.”

Paige can read, but she lets him do it anyway. I think she likes the sound of his voice.

I like it, too.

Mateo spends the meal drawing on a coloring page with Paige. About halfway through, I realize they’re not actually drawing. They’re listing the rides in order of greatness.

“After this,” Mateo declares, “we’re going on the greatest ride.”

“The greatest ride?” Paige echoes.

“My favorite,” he says.

We walk off our lunch for twenty minutes, and then Lisa pops us to the front of the line at Big Thunder Mountain. Paige clutches my hand as she watches the mine cars on their track. I can tell she’s nervous. But then she sets her jaw. “I’m doing this,” she whispers.

That’s my girl.

The three of us squeeze into the very first row of the train, and we’re off. I know we’re in Disneyland. I know this isn’t very intense, as far as roller coasters go. It feels amazing. Paige shrieks with joy and terror without letting up.

Mateo slings his arm around both of us and holds on tight.

“Again,” Paige gasps when the mine train comes to a stop. “One more time.”

We go twice more, and then Mateo requests that she take a walk with him. “To save your voice,” he says.

Paige agrees. We walk to the Finding Nemo ride, which involves zero shrieking, and after, we keep walking. Mateo gives out a few more autographs. My feet hurt. It’s wonderful.

At some point he turns, and we’re walking through a big Hollywood hall, our security right behind us. Lisa, too. There are lots of people here. The park has gotten busier throughout the day.

“Emily. Emily,” someone calls. I don’t recognize the voice, but I turn toward it out of habit. “Bold of you to take a vacation after what you did.” It’s a man I’ve never seen, moving quickly in the other direction. Mateo nods to the security people. One of them peels off. To do what? Follow him out of the park? I didn’t expect to be recognized here. I should have expected it, I suppose.