“Today was the best day of my entire life, Mama!” I cried, as Mama slid behind the wheel of our old Civic. I buckled myself in and tried to ignore how tired I suddenly felt

“You haven’t been alive very long, silly,” she said. “You’ll have much better days to come, Daisy.”

“I can’t imagine a better day than today,” I said, wistfully staring at the flashing neon Disneyland sign as we drove past it.

In my hands, I clutched the one souvenir Mama had allowed me to have — a Cinderella keychain with a fake glass slipper hanging from it. I’d really wanted the real glass slipper that was displayed in the big case, positive it would have really fit my foot, but Mama said it was too expensive. Instead, she’d gotten me this miniature version attached to a keychain. I loved it, even though I didn’t have any keys for it.

I’d been begging Mama to take me to Disneyland forever and she woke me up this morning with the biggest surprise of my life. We’d spent the entire day there and still hadn’t seen everything there was to see.

At first I didn’t believe her.

She was always saying how we couldn’t afford it, but maybe ‘someday’ things would change. She tried to hide the sadness in her eyes from me, always trying to smile, but I could tell it hurt her not to be able to give me the things I wanted. So, I didn’t make a fuss. I didn’t want to make her any sadder than she already was. I acted like someday was good enough.

Since Dad died in a car accident a few years ago, things had been hard.

I had to do a lot of pretending. I had to pretend I didn’t hear her crying in her bed at night. Or when she threw a dish against the wall, I had to pretend it didn’t wake me up.

Some nights, when Mama was the saddest of all, I had to pretend I didn’t hear the soft knocks on the front door, followed by the whispered voices and the moans coming from Mama’s bedroom. It took till I heard the footsteps and the soft click of the front door lock sliding into place before I could breathe right again. And it wasn’t till I heard Mama softly crying in her bed that I could relax enough to go back to sleep.

I’d gotten really good at pretending.

That’s why, when she told me we were going to Disneyland that morning, I pretended to believe her, even though I really didn’t. I thought she was playing another game, one of the ones she liked to do when she was having a good day. Sometimes, we’d put on our best dresses and wipe the mud from our shoes and drive downtown to walk around and window shop. Mama liked to look in the windows and pretend she was trying to decide what to buy, that she could buy anything she wanted.

She’d linger at the windows of the jewelry stores the longest, staring in awe at the shining diamond rings on display. She’d lift me up so I could see, pointing and talking about how many carrots each one had, which I never understood because I never saw one carrot in those windows. But I knew Mama was just pretending she could afford them anyway, so I never questioned her about them.

This morning, as we dressed and ate a bowl of Fruit Loops, she kept staring at me with this crazy look on her face. I’d seen it before. She was moving around the kitchen all jerky and wild, throwing the dishes in the sink like she couldn’t wait to get out of the house. All the way there, she was a little shaky and it was making me a little uncomfortable, so I just sat there, waiting to see what this surprise really was going to be.

When she pulled up into the Disneyland parking lot, I couldn’t believe it.

“We’re really going?” I shouted with joy.

“I told you, goose! You didn’t believe me?” she asked, looking a little hurt.

“I don’t know…not really, I guess,” I mumbled.

“We’ll do you believe me now?” She laughed.

“Yes!” I said. “I’m going to explode from excitement!” My heart was pounding so hard in my chest and my palms were all sweaty. I bolted out of the car as soon as it stopped and began jumping with glee in the parking lot.

Mama took my hand and we strolled through the gates, surely the happiest two people who’d ever been there before us.

As I said, it was the best day of my life.

I was exhausted, and yet, so terribly sad when it was over.

“Promise me we can go again soon,” I insisted.

“Today is going to have to do for a little while,” she said, softly.

I looked up at her and reached out, touching her arm.

“Why are you crying, Mama?”

“I’m okay,” she said, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “I’m just really glad you had a good day, baby.”

“Thank you, Mama,” I said, leaning over and kissing her cheek. She pulled over on the side of the parking lot before passing through the exit gates and pulled me into her arms before pushing me away and staring into my eyes.

“Baby, I want you to remember this day for the rest of your life, okay?”

“Of course, I will!”

“I mean it, remember every detail and remember how much fun we had, alright? I love you so much, sweetheart, and I always will, don’t ever forget that.”

“I love you, too, Mama,” I said, smiling at her. She was so pretty, her red hair curly and wild, just like mine. She always pulled hers back in a tight ponytail and insisted I keep mine loose and wild and bouncing around my face. Her green eyes were the same color as the grass in Spring, too. Just like mine.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she smiled at me again. I reached up, wiping them away in the darkness.

“Don’t cry, Mama,” I said.

“They’re happy tears, baby,” she said, kissing me on the forehead. I inhaled deeply, loving the way she smelled —like the coconut shampoo in our bathroom.

“Okay, good,” I said. “That’s allowed.”

I sat back in my seat and she pulled the car back onto the road. As we approached the big gates, I imagined them waving to us as we passed under.

“I’ll be back soon,” I mouthed, keeping the words to myself, so I wouldn’t make Mama any sadder.

Moments later, I was asleep, my exhausted body lulled into a deep slumber by the rocking of the old Honda as it carried us home.

* * *

When I woke up, I knew right away I was in a different car, because the smell of leather washed over me in the darkness. I sat up and looked around. I was all alone. I peered out the window, searching for Mama.

She was standing near the hood of the car, a large man in a suit towering over her. He was counting out some money and he counted out loud, taking a bill from one pile and putting it in another on the hood of the car.

Mama was crying, watching him, her lips moving in synch with the numbers he was reciting. It took a long time, but he finally stopped counting. He handed the big pile to Mama and she took it with shaking hands, looking down at it like it was a newborn puppy or something.

“Mama!” I cried, banging on the window.

They both turned to look at me and that’s the first time I saw the man’s eyes.

I’d never seen a man with black eyes before and it scared me.

“Mama!” I banged on the window again.

The man turned back to Mama and said something I couldn’t make out. She nodded and took two steps backwards away from the car. The man nodded firmly and then walked around the front of the car and over to the driver’s side.

I reached out and pulled the lever on the door next to me, but it was locked. The man slid behind the wheel and closed his door, the smell of his cologne sharp and spicy, overwhelming the heavy leather scent of the car.

I looked over at Mama and our eyes met. She was crying hard now and I wanted to run to her, to hug her.

“Mama!” I cried, louder this time, trying to open the door again.

The man sat silently watching me with his big, empty black eyes.

“Let me out! Mama! Mama!” I cried, my voice getting higher and higher.

I didn’t feel the tears on my face.

I just wanted out.

I wanted Mama.

I watched in horror as she took another two steps back, the pile of cash pressed against her chest protectively.

“I'm so sorry. I love you,” she mouthed. Maybe she said it out loud, but I couldn’t hear her.

The man had turned the car on and it had filled with heavy pounding music.

“Who are you?” I shouted, turning to the man. “Let me out of here!”

He ignored me. Staring straight ahead, he put the car in gear and backed out of the parking space, backing away from Mama and her pile of cash. A bill slipped from her grasp, falling to the ground at her feet, as she watched us pull away.

“Mama! Mama! Mama!” I cried, banging on the window as hard as I could.

She just stood there, watching.

She didn’t run after the car.

She didn’t take one step towards me.

She didn’t even wave.

She just stood there, clutching her cash until the darkness of the night swallowed her up completely.