“So give me an update. How’s the ride?”
“Well.” Abby told her friend about the Spoke’n Four, how Andy had a crush on Morgan and how Morgan was barely speaking to her mom.
“And how are things with Eileen?” Lizzie asked delicately. Abby didn’t answer. “Before you get mad at me, let me just say this—she told me she wanted to spend time with you, and I believed her.”
“Spend time with me. By which you mean monitor every bite of food I put in my mouth and ask me seventeen different times how much weight I think I’ll lose, after all this biking. Or if Mark and I have made any plans yet.” Abby’s voice sounded like she was joking, even though she wasn’t.
“She’s trying,” Lizzie said.
“I know,” Abby said, and realized it was true. In her own belated, clumsy way, Eileen was making an effort. Which meant, Abby knew, that she’d have to be the bigger person—ha, ha, ha—and meet her mother’s attempt as generously, as kindly as she could.
She said goodbye to her friend and got dressed for dinner in her off-the-bike outfit, wishing she’d packed something prettier, less utilitarian than her linen pants and tee shirt. Shoes on, hair combed, she stepped out of her hotel room at the precise instant that Sebastian emerged from the room next door—because of course he’d be in the room next door. He wore jeans and a dark blue tee shirt, and even with his shamefaced expression, he looked handsome and appealing.
Shit, Abby thought, trying to ignore the attraction that rolled over her like a wave, making her especially aware of her lips and her fingertips and every inch of her skin. Trying to remember the videos she’d seen, the comments she’d read.
“Abby,” Sebastian said. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I was such a jerk this afternoon. It was completely my fault. I was preoccupied, and I wasn’t paying attention.”
“It’s fine,” Abby told him.
“It won’t happen again,” said Sebastian.
“It’s fine,” Abby repeated. “Totally okay. Really.” She took a few steps into the parking lot, looking around for Jasper and the sag wagon.
Sebastian followed her. “You know, last year I went on a hiking trip. Part of it was a media detox. You’d hike and eat all your meals in silence, and you weren’t allowed to look at your phones…”
Abby decided to put him out of his misery. “I saw the TikTok.”
Sebastian’s mouth opened, then closed. “Ah.”
“It’s fine.” Jesus. She needed to get away from him. Where was Jasper? Or Morgan and Lily? She’d even welcome her mother at this point. She could see the Pressers standing under a tree near the lobby, and the Landons coming down the breezeway, carrying a bucket of ice. “It’s none of my business, anyhow.” She took a quick glance at Sebastian, who looked miserable, with his hands in his pockets and his face scrunched up, like something hurt. “I’m going to go find my mother.”
“Abby—” He looked like he wanted to say more. But he didn’t. She could feel his eyes on her as she hurried away.
* * *
Dinner that night started off with baskets of warm, pillowy Parker House rolls, served with whipped honey butter. Abby tore a roll into chunks and buttered one lavishly (after angling her body so Eileen couldn’t see). She popped it in her mouth and hummed with happiness. “Oh my God is that good,” she said. When she opened her eyes she saw Sebastian looking at her, his gaze intense and heated.
Abby felt herself flushing. She turned to her left. “Lily,” she asked, “how was the riding today?”
“Great!” said Lily, in her typically chipper tone. Abby suspected Lily would have given the same response, in precisely the same tone, if one of her legs had fallen off at lunchtime.
“You’re not sore? Nothing hurts?”
“Oh, everything hurts,” Lily said. She sipped her diet soda and smiled serenely. “But I’m managing.”
“Morgan, how about you?”
Morgan was sitting next to her mother. She ducked behind her curtain of shiny hair and murmured something Abby couldn’t hear and hoped was positive. She turned her attention to Andy Presser.
“Andy, how was your ride?”
His Adam’s apple jerked as he swallowed. “It was good. Fine.”
“How about you, Ezra?”
Ezra gave Abby a thumbs-up with his left hand while continuing to ferry chunks of buttered roll into his mouth with his right.
“Never get between a teenage boy and carbs,” said Dale Presser, who appeared to have mellowed after two days outdoors. He’d gotten a little color in his cheeks, and his shoulders and neck had lost some of the tension Abby had observed back in Manhattan. His wife squeezed his hand, and he smiled at her. And Abby felt content, proud of herself for leading this trip; happy that she was doing some good in the world.
She finished her roll, then stood and walked to the end of the table, where the Spoke’n Four were sitting. There was an empty chair at the foot of the table. Abby sat down, and asked the group, “How was your day?”
“Perfect,” said Lou. “A lovely day. Exactly what we were hoping for.”
“We’ve been planning on doing this ride ever since they opened the trail,” said Sue. “But then…” She sighed, and the four of them said, together, “COVID.”
“How was the pandemic for you guys?” Abby asked.
“I went to four Zoom funerals,” Ted boomed.
“My niece and her partner got Zoom married,” said Lou. “Well, the actual wedding was in person—just the two of them, in their backyard, with the officiant six feet away.”
“It’s been hard to know what to do about celebrations,” said Eileen, who’d appeared out of nowhere and had taken the empty seat next to Abby. Abby wondered if her mother was going to talk about how lucky it was that Abby hadn’t gotten engaged during the pandemic, or how great it was now that the restrictions had been lifted. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she noticed Sebastian’s head swiveling toward them.
She bit her lip. The waitress came to take drink orders and tell them about the specials. By the time she was gone, the Spoke’n Four had gone quiet, their heads bent over Ted’s phone. “Is that him?” she heard Ted rumble as Lou and Sue both shushed him, and Ed pulled his reading glasses out of his breast pocket.
“What?” Eileen asked, leaning toward them. “What’s going on?”
Sue beckoned to Abby. “Is this our Sebastian?” she whispered, and showed Abby her phone. Abby braced for the same TikTok Lizzie had sent her. She saw the by-now-familiar picture of Sebastian’s face in a WANTED poster… but this time it was attached to an article, not a video. Which meant that the story had jumped from social media to legacy media. She felt embarrassed on Sebastian’s behalf. And on her own.
“?‘The Internet is abuzz over the story of a Brooklyn Lothario who, social media sleuths determined, has slept his way through an entire sorority of women, many of whom are friends,’?” Ted declaimed in a voice loud enough to be audible to not just the Breakaway table but also all the diners nearby.
“Shh!” said Sue.
“Sorry,” said Ted, and continued at a slightly reduced volume. “?‘The saga began at a brunch in Williamsburg, when a group of eight friends realized that seven of them had gone on first—and last—dates with a freelance writer named Sebastian, a man they’d all met on dating apps within the same six weeks.’?”
Eileen frowned at her daughter. “Wait, Sebastian? That Sebastian?” She pointed, not even trying to be discreet. “Our Sebastian?”
Our Sebastian, Abby saw, was currently being glared at by his friend.
“Freelancer? Why did they say you’re a freelancer?” Lincoln was demanding. “Are you writing for other websites?” He pressed his hand against his shirt, right against his heart. “Are you cheating on me professionally?”