“Okay,” I said. “Got it.”

“Awesome. So, should we get going?”

“One sec. Just … let me…” I ruffled my fingers through his hair to fluff it up. “There. Now we can go.”

I could’ve sworn, just for a moment, he almost grinned at that.

EIGHT

Character Analysis:

Alexander Brougham

So scared of rejection he lashes out to remain in control.

Parents didn’t give him consistent love as a baby, so he doesn’t believe love is limitless and unconditional. He doesn’t withdraw because closeness overwhelms him: he withdraws because he desperately wants to be followed.

Has an anxious attachment style!

There was something unknowably perfect about Disneyland.

It’s hard to say if the magic came from the environment, or the contagious excitement emanating from hundreds of bouncing, buzzing kids filling the crowded lines at the turnstiles, or pure nostalgia. If I had to guess, I’d put my money on all three. Standing on these orangey-red bricks, surrounded by families posing for photos in front of manicured grass beds filled with purple and white flowers in the shape of Mickey Mouse, breathing in the scent of corn dogs and recycled water, I was four again. Ainsley was six. She held Mom’s hand. I held Dad’s. No one was fighting, I couldn’t even conceive of my family being split down the middle, and the only thing that mattered was getting the next FastPass.

I guess that’s what nostalgia really meant. Even though I’d been to Disneyland dozens of times since then, my first memory was the one that bled into today.

The morning was warm—I’d already shoved my sweater into Ainsley’s backpack for safekeeping until I needed it after dark. A gust of wind whipped my hair around my face. To the far right, a girl entering the park with her parents lost her Elsa baseball cap in the breeze, and she broke into a run to chase it, as strangers made mad dashes to grab it for her.

It really was a stroke of genius for Brougham to bring Winona here. It was impossible to hold a grudge in the Happiest Place on Earth.

Brougham and Winona were waiting ahead, closer to the turnstiles. Winona seemed to be in good spirits, and she was chattering away at Brougham while digging through her blue-and-purple paisley tote bag. The material was covered in flowers; squiggly, colorful designs; and Mickey and Minnie in various poses. That, along with her Tinker Bell canvas shoes and Beauty and the Beast–themed crystal rose earrings, told me two things: a) rich kids had way too much money to throw around, and I would never stop being jealous of that; and b) Brougham was observant. He hadn’t just taken Winona to Disneyland on a whim the year before. He’d correctly pegged her as a superfan.