“So that’s everyone,” Abby said. “Jasper and I will load up the bikes, then we’ll be on our way.” She escaped the dining room as quickly as she could, retreating to the kitchen, where she helped Jasper clean up, pack up the leftovers, and load the Pressers’ and Mackenzies’ bikes onto the van.
When that was done, she found Kayla, standing on the porch. Together, they watched as her mother and Lily Mackenzie dashed out of the house and climbed into the van. Abby held her breath until she saw Lincoln climb into the passenger’s seat and slam the door behind him. Jasper gave two jaunty honks and pulled away.
“All good?” Abby asked.
“So far,” Kayla replied. “Dale’s going to take Ezra to the science museum. I’ve got an Uber on the way.”
“Text me,” Abby said. “Keep in touch. Let me know if there are any problems.”
Kayla nodded. “Be safe,” she said.
“You, too,” said Abby. Sebastian was already outside waiting, helmet on, bike lights flashing, filling his water bottles from a hose attached to the side of the house. Like he’ll need them in this, she thought. The rain had not abated. In fact, it seemed to be coming down harder than it had been when she’d woken up. She tried to look pleasant and unbothered as she pulled her raincoat’s hood up over her helmet and addressed the day’s single rider.
“Ready?” she asked.
Sebastian nodded. He pulled his neon green rain jacket over his jersey, but not before Abby noticed how it clung to his chest in an unfairly distracting fashion, and scolded herself for noticing. She’d talked to Mark the night before. They’d had a long, pleasant conversation where she’d told him everything about the bike trip. Everything, except for a single word about Sebastian. “I miss you,” Mark had said, at the end of the call.
“Miss you, too,” Abby had said, trying hard to mean it. Trying to not think of how there’d been long stretches of riding where she didn’t even think about Mark, or her life with him, at all, or how, when she did think about him, she did not find the prospect of going back home appealing. She hadn’t told him about the spans of time and stretches of miles when she’d pedaled along and the world felt enormous and full of possibilities, when she imagined being single and didn’t feel lonely or afraid… just free.
“You really don’t have to ride with me,” Sebastian told her, raising his voice so she could hear him over the rain. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will be,” said Abby, who wasn’t sure at all. The day looked like an invitation for accidents and injury. At least they’d be on bike paths for the early parts of the ride. Only there, the issue would be mud, and the way it disguised hazards like loose gravel and roots, rocks and ruts. And the fifteen miles of road riding into Seneca Falls were mostly on two-lane local roads, not especially busy, but drivers wouldn’t be expecting to see cyclists on a day like this, so they might not be as attentive as usual. And even considerate drivers would end up sending sheets of water splashing toward the sides of the road, making you feel like you were riding your bike through a car wash, or a tsunami. “But I still have to go with you.”
For a moment, Sebastian didn’t reply. Abby imagined she could feel the resentment rolling off him, like cartoon squiggles of noxious black. “Look,” he finally said. “I’ll sign a waiver, or whatever you need. I’ll indemnify the company. I promise not to sue if I get hurt.”
Abby bet herself that Sebastian had googled indemnify at some point during breakfast, and with that thought, it was as if some malevolent spirit got ahead of her tongue. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll ride behind you, and I promise not to make eye contact. No one need ever know about our secret love.”
Sebastian stared at her. “Secret love?”
“I’m kidding!” Abby said, rolling her eyes. “It’s okay. You just go ahead, whenever you’re ready. Pretend I’m not here. I’ll see you in Seneca Falls. At the Women’s Rights National Historical Park.”
“The what?”
“There’s a museum dedicated to the passage of the Nineteenth Amendment, and women’s rights.” Abby gave him her biggest, cheesiest grin. “I know you’ll want to check it out. We should all be feminists, right?”
Sebastian just stared at her, shifting his bike from his left hand to his right. “I don’t want to make you ride in this if you don’t want to,” he finally said.