Page 162 of Meet Me at the Metro

Theodore Isaac Pearson

1962-2014.

A small, bittersweet smile tilts the corners of her lips. “You have his name.”

Something about those words tugs right at my heartstrings, encompassing years of grief I’ve never let myself fully process.

I stifle the tears threatening my eyes as Nora’s fingers lace into mine. “If you aren’t ready to talk about it—about him—that’s okay, too, Theo.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m ready. Ireallyam.”

“Then, I’m ready, too. I’m right here to listen.”

I clear my throat, forcing the lump growing at the back of it away before I find the courage to tell her, “I’ve always felt reluctant to tell anyone what happened that day, but I—I feel safe enough to tell you...”

The cold winter breeze whizzes against my skin as we make our way down the slick, wet pavement of the city sidewalk. Kimberley and my stepbrother walk ahead of us, laughing at the stupid joke my dad just made. I’m filled with absolute gratitude as I watch them.

Our lives look so much different now than before they came into the picture six years ago.

Everything feels so complete with the four of us.

Dad’s hand finds my back, and when I look over at him, he smiles knowingly, like he reads and shares my exact thoughts.

“Almost there,” Kimberley croons as our yearly destination appears ahead.

This place has become my absolute favorite family tradition.

Hyde Park in London was beautiful in the warmer seasons, with its wide-open grasses and verdant oak trees, but it turned into an absolute vision during the winter months when it was transformed into a Winter Wonderland.

Bright, twinkling lights greet our eyes in every direction they glance as we step through the threshold of the massive Christmas market. Amusement rides hum and spin to life, emanating laughter and joyous hollers. Holiday music blares from food vendors and stalls, spreading festive cheer, while sweet-smelling smoke billows above the wonder of it all. The sounds of skates gliding against ice become more distinct as we walk through the maze of booths scattered throughout the park, but it’s the click of the roller coaster track looming in the distance that grabs my attention the most.

“Are you going to chicken out again like last year or ride it with me this time?” I taunt, giving Connor a playful shove.

He pushes me right back. “I didn’t chicken out! I told you that I had too much funnel cake.”

I roll my eyes.“Mhmm, I’m sure.”

“You look bloody ugly when you do that, you know?”

“Do I now?”

He nods. “Yeah, you do.”

I yank him toward me, pulling him into a lighthearted choke hold as my knuckles reward the top of his head with a hard noogie.

“Get off!” he protests, breathless with laughter.

“Not until you tell me I’m pretty.”

He grunts. “Never going to happen.”

An arm wraps around me from behind, rendering me vulnerable as it traps me in the same hold I have on Connor.

“Pick on someone your own size, won’t you?” Dad mocks, roughly tugging at my hair.

“Fine, fine! I tap out!” I relent, releasing Connor as I swat Dad away.

“What was that? You what?”

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