She heard Sebastian and Lincoln coming up behind her. “Hello, Mrs. Fenske!” Sebastian called.
“Eileen,” said her mother with that same taut smile. “Please.”
Abby moved her hands from the brake hoods to the handlebar drops, a position that left her hunched over the top of her bike with her gaze toward the ground. The trail, which had been cinders and dirt, was paved now, winding along the canal, through a park. On a gentle grassy slope, a father was helping a little kid fly a kite. A woman walked a fancy-looking dog with pink ribbons braided in its ear fur and a put-upon expression on its face. Buffalo was approaching. Instead of the long expanses of emptiness, they were riding through an actual neighborhood now, and she could hear the sounds of traffic nearby. Buffalo, then Niagara Falls. The end of the trip. The end of whatever this was with Sebastian.
Abby clicked into a higher gear and picked up her pace. “I’m going to check in with Lily and Morgan,” she said to Sebastian. “I’ll see you both at lunch.” She pedaled hard, legs pumping, lungs burning, getting away from her mother, wishing she could escape her thoughts, her guilt, as easily.
Sebastian
Tell me everything,” said Lincoln as soon as they’d passed Eileen and Carol Landon. Lincoln had, of course, noticed Sebastian’s absence from their hotel rooms for the past three nights, but, so far, had kept quiet.
“I’m not telling you everything,” Sebastian said.
“Tell me something, then,” Lincoln wheedled. When Sebastian didn’t, Lincoln said, “I’m suspecting the whole be-her-friend experiment is over?”
He sounded a little snippy. Sebastian nodded, then said, “It isn’t what you think.”
“I guess not, if you actually spent three nights in a row with her.”
Sebastian didn’t answer. “Tell me what’s going on,” Lincoln said. “Come on. Give me something. I’m married. I’m never going to kiss a woman again for the first time. I have to live vicariously.”
“There is nothing to tell,” said Sebastian, feeling suddenly chivalrous.
“Oh, there’s plenty to tell,” said Lincoln. “Do you like her?”
“I do.”
“Are you planning on seeing her again?”
And there was the crux of it. Sebastian did want to see Abby again. But if Abby wanted babies soon, if she was looking for another man to slot into the serious boyfriend/possible husband position for the wedding he bet her mother had already started to plan, Sebastian didn’t think that was him. At least, not yet. “She lives in Philadelphia,” he said.
“There’s this marvelous new invention called the train,” said Lincoln. “Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
“We haven’t made any plans yet.”
Lincoln wasn’t letting it go. “What do you want?”
Sebastian didn’t answer. He didn’t know if he wanted to be her boyfriend. He didn’t know if he wanted to be her husband, or anyone’s husband; the father of her children, or of any children at all. But he absolutely wanted to see Abby Stern, on bikes and in bed and all the places in between. “I want to see her when the trip is over.”
“So?” asked Lincoln. “What am I missing? What’s the issue?”
The handlebar tape was coming unraveled from the right side of the handlebar. Sebastian rewrapped the loose end as best he could, one-handed.
“You need to figure it out,” Lincoln told him.
“I will.”
“Because this is the last day of riding…”
“I know.”
“… and tomorrow we’re going to Niagara Falls…”
“I am aware.”
“… and the day after that we’re going back to New York City.”
“Yes. Got it. I have the same itinerary that you do.”
“So if you’re going to say something, you better say it soon,” Lincoln concluded.
“I know!” Sebastian practically shouted. He thought about telling Lincoln that it was complicated; that Abby had a boyfriend. But Lincoln already knew that. And, he realized, emphasizing that particular tidbit made him look even more caddish than the Internet currently believed. If that was even possible.
Lincoln pulled his water bottle out of its cage, took a swig, and replaced it. “Abby makes you laugh,” he said. “I like her. And I think Lana would like her, which is more important.” He paused, long enough for them to round a bend as they followed the trail through a park. They were riding past houses now, which had views of the greens and the canal and the swing bridges over the water from their backyards. Old guys on folding chairs sat on the banks with fishing rods; little kids kicked a soccer ball. In the distance, Sebastian could make out the silhouette of skyscrapers. Buffalo was getting closer with every rotation of his wheels. His heart gave an uneasy twist.