Page 25 of Christmas Crisis
There were countless things I could say in reply, but I settled on, “Me too.”
She clasped our hands together again, and it felt like my entire body centered on the place where her soft palms rested in mine.
With a glint in her eyes, she asked, “How do you feel about a long-term houseguest?”
20 MONTHS AGO - MARCH
After months of being almost perfectlyin sync, Miranda and I discovered an area where our life philosophies diverged.
And it happened to be at the “happiest place on Earth.”
My approach to Disneyland was laid-back. I figured we could explore one area at a time, get in line for whatever rides seemed interesting, and not stress too much along the way.
Miranda had a decidedly different methodology.
“We can’t do it that way, Bear,” she insisted. “It’s bad enough that we got here two hours after it opened, so we missed some prime beat-the-crowd time. If we want to get on all the good ridesandwatch the parades, we need to be strategic and game it out in the app and follow the plan.”
“What if I want to stop and get a churro?”
“What if ten minutes waiting for breaded cinnamon sugary goodness costs us an hour in line for Space Mountain?” she retorted. “Seriously, there aresystems.”
“For walking around Disneyland?”
“Of course. We can’t go at this like rank amateurs.”
“Aren’t we amateurs? You said yourself you haven’t been here in years.”
“Just because we aren’t experts doesn’t mean we need to surrender to stupidity.”
I lifted my hands with a grin. “Alright. I’m honestly fine with anything, so I’ll follow your lead.”
She spared a moment to pretend that wasn’t the only acceptable response before offering, “I’ll make sure you get a churro at some point.”
I laughed. “Sounds good.”
Miranda’s plan of attack had my smartwatch chirping. I hit ten thousand steps before eleven a.m. It seemed counterintuitive to traipse from Tomorrowland to Adventureland instead of just moving to whatever was nearby, but she knew what she was doing. She purchased an add-on in the app that let us get in quicker lines for certain rides, and by the end of the day, we’d managed to hit all the premier attractions and watch a parade. Also, we got churros and a turkey leg to share, which we ate standing up while waiting in line for the Indiana Jones ride. According to Miranda, sitting down to enjoy your food was for suckers.
It was a great day, and exactly what I’d driven a straight eighteen hours to experience—spending time with another person and feeling totally in tune with them. Nothing forced. Nothing to hide.
By the end of the day, I knew I could trust her with the full truth about myself.
After my disastrous experience with Ilona, I’d learned my lesson. Keep it to myself and everything stayed copacetic.
But I knew with Miranda it would be okay. She wouldn’t judge me for who I was. Just like I didn’t judge her for not being @theadventurousmiranda.
One of the Disney photographers snapped pictures of us in front of the castle.
“They’ll show up in my app,” Miranda said. “I’ll send them to you.”
We stayed in the park until close, squeezing in one last ride on Pirates of the Caribbean to finish our day.
“Should we do California Adventure tomorrow?” she asked, looking at the entry to the park across from the Disneyland exit.
“Next time,” I said. “I’m so beat from all the walking we did today—thanks to yourmethods—I think I need a breather.”
“You love my methods.”
“I do.”
