Eileen gave him her thin-lipped smile. Most of the riders, per Breakaway’s instructions, had packed just a few off-the-bike outfits: a pair of pants or shorts and a few tee shirts. Eileen, though, had debuted a brand-new outfit every night, including shoes and accessories. That evening, she wore a sleeveless orange dress, with matching sandals and a straw handbag.
Abby, on the other hand, had stuck to the rules, and had come to dinner every night in cropped cargo pants and a tee shirt, with Keens on her feet and her curly hair in a loose bun. No accessories but the small, sparkly earrings she’d worn every day; no nail polish or makeup… but she must have packed perfume, Sebastian thought, taking a discreet but appreciative sniff when Abby took a seat on the opposite side of the table.
Sebastian leaned over to refill her water glass. Abby murmured her thanks.
“So you and Lincoln are roommates?” Eileen asked. She was on Sebastian’s left side, Lincoln was on his right.
“Housemates,” Sebastian said. “We were roommates freshman year of college, and we’ve lived together ever since.”
Eileen looked puzzled. “Lincoln, I thought you were married?”
“That’s right,” Lincoln said.
“So you’re…” Eileen frowned.
Abby was grinning. “Just say it, Mom,” she urged Eileen. “Spit it out.”
“Polyamorous?” Eileen said. “Or do people just say poly?”
For a moment, Sebastian had no idea what she was talking about. Lincoln figured it out first. “Oh, no, no. We’re not romantically involved. Just roommates.”
“I rent the garden apartment on the first floor of the house Lincoln and Lana own,” said Sebastian.
“Oh, well. That makes much more sense,” Eileen said.
“But it’s a lot less interesting,” Abby said. “I’ve never met a throuple.”
“Who’s a throuple?” Ted boomed. Sue stood on her tiptoes and spoke into his ear. Ted shook his head, looking disappointed.
“Well,” said Eileen. “It’s wonderful that you’ve stayed connected, all those years.” She nibbled at a shred of carrot from her salad.
Sebastian turned to Abby. “Have you tried the falafel?”
“Not yet,” Abby said. Sebastian passed her the platter. Abby speared a ball of fried chickpeas and popped it in her mouth. It crunched as she chewed. She glanced at her mother, who picked up the salad, brandishing the bowl at Abby with a tight-lipped smile. Abby shook her head. Eileen set the bowl down.
“How many miles did we ride today?” Eileen asked.
Abby swallowed and patted her lips. “Sixty-one,” she said, and held up a hand preemptively. “Do not ask me how many calories that burned. I have no idea.”
Eileen looked hurt. “I wasn’t going to ask that,” she said.
“You were thinking it,” Abby said. She was, Sebastian thought, trying to sound teasing, but he heard an edge in her voice. “I know your how-many-calories-did-it-burn face.”
“Oh, Abby!” Eileen said. “You’re such a comedian!”
“Bet,” Abby said flatly. “I’m hilarious.” She scooped hummus up with a wedge of pita. Eileen sat for a moment, before quietly excusing herself and finding an empty seat near Lily at the other end of the table.
Sebastian saw Abby’s shoulders slump.
“Hey,” said Sebastian, a little more sharply than he’d meant to. Abby looked up. “You should take it easy on her.”
Abby’s look became a glare.
“She’s doing this trip with you, right?” Sebastian asked.
Abby rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I’d have been fine if she’d just gone to a spa like usual.”
“But she wants to be with you,” Sebastian said.
“I doubt that she’s doing it just to be nice,” Abby said. “Either she wants something, or she’s trying to make a point. I haven’t figured out which yet.”
“At least she’s here,” said Sebastian, thinking that Abby had no idea how lucky she was, to have a mother who was present and interested. And sober. “At least she shows up for you. You should be grateful.”
“Oh, should I?” Abby raised her eyebrows. A pink flush darkened the tops of her cheeks. She gave him a smile that bared her teeth. “If you’re impressed with her parenting, let her know. Maybe she’ll adopt you. Take you under her wing for the rest of the trip.” She sipped from her glass demurely as Lincoln’s gaze moved from Sebastian to Abby.
“Everything okay here?” he asked, giving Abby a pleasant smile and Sebastian a harder look.
“Fine,” said Abby. “Everything is fine.”
Morgan
Day Six: Utica to Syracuse Sixty-two miles
Can you keep a secret?” Morgan asked Andy Presser, after she’d gotten him alone, away from her mother and his parents, when they’d stopped for lunch, thirty miles out of Utica.
“Uh-huh.” He nodded, bobbing his head up and down. “Why? What’s going on?”
Morgan’s hair swished as she turned around, looking over her shoulder, checking to make sure her mother wasn’t close enough to listen. Lily had looked a little disappointed when Morgan had said, “Is it okay if I sit with Andy?” but all her mom had said was, “Drink lots of water.” It had been fiercely hot that day, and humid, the sun beating down, the air sticky and thick. Morgan had already reapplied her sunscreen twice, and she could feel that she’d already sweated it away.
“I’m great with secrets,” said Andy.
Morgan swallowed hard. Andy was such a nice guy. Like a Great Dane puppy, all gangly arms and legs. He’d probably jump up and start licking her face if she let him. He had bright blue eyes, and freckles, and a friendly, welcoming kind of face. He’d offered to fill her water bottles that morning, and pumped up her tires the day before, and his eyes followed her wherever she went. She could tell he had a crush on her, and she was getting ready to take advantage of that, and she felt horrible about it, but she was going to do it anyhow.
Andy reached across his plate, piled with sandwiches and orzo salad, like he was going to pat her arm or take her hand, then seemed to think better of it and let his hand drop. “What’s going on?”
Morgan licked her lips. “It’s…” Without meetings his eyes, she said, “I have an appointment in Syracuse, tomorrow morning.”
“An appointment?” Andy repeated.
“At Planned Parenthood.”
“Oh,” said Andy. Then, after a beat of silence: “Oh.” She didn’t miss the way his gaze dropped toward her belly, then quickly flickered up and away.
Yeah, Morgan thought. Oh. She felt shame burning through her, along with anger at Brody, her boyfriend, who was walking around an army base with no idea what was going on, while she was all alone, trying to find a way out of this trap.
“I know where it is, and it’s not that far from the B and B where we’re staying.” Morgan had checked and rechecked the map to make sure of it. The Planned Parenthood office was less than two miles from their lodgings for the night, and less than one mile from the trail. “I’m going to ride there. I just need to figure out how to do it so that my mom doesn’t find out.” She paused. “And I need someone to come with me.”
“Your mom doesn’t know?” Andy asked, his voice cracking.
“No,” Morgan said. She looked around and lowered her voice. “No,” she repeated. “She doesn’t know and she can’t find out. I’d be in so much trouble.”
“Okay.” Andy nodded. “Okay.” He drained his water bottle, then tapped his fingers on his knee, thinking. “Okay. So maybe, in the morning, we can tell Abby that you and I are riding together, and that we’ll catch up with everyone at lunchtime? We can hang back from the rest of the group, and I’ll go with you to your appointment.”
Morgan nodded. That’s what she’d been thinking.
“Only… are you going to be able to ride when it’s over?” His Adam’s apple jerked as he swallowed. “And do you know how long it’s going to take?”
Morgan shook her head. “The appointment’s at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. I don’t know how long I’ll have to stay, or how I’ll feel when it’s over. I don’t even know if they’ll, you know.” She swallowed hard and made herself say the words. “If they’ll do it—the procedure—at the appointment, or if they’ll give me pills to take later.” At least she knew that those were the choices.