Sabin rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”
“I’m serious.”
“Okay, whatever. Hey, you getting hungry?”
“Totally. You’ll help me down?”
“Of course. So, you’ll want to shift your weight into the left stirrup, and then as you kind of half-lie across the seat of the saddle, you’ll kick out that left foot and basically hop down by pushing with your hands and chest. Kick your left leg from the stirrup, and swing your right leg back over and off.”
I do what he says, and again, my dismount is as ungainly as I predicted. I pretty much slide off the horse and then stumble back.
“Easy there.” Sabin catches me with two hands and rights me before I totally wipe out.
I take his hands and pull them around my waist as I lean back into him. “Thank you.”
“It’s not a big deal. Just didn’t want you to crash on your landing.”
“Not for that. For today, for this. For being you. For being my best friend.”
Sabin tightly hugs me, and in this moment, everything is right.
We spend the rest of the day eating tacos, driving by the coast, and stopping at a few produce stands. Then, we go back to the tree house and pack up a few things for Sabin to bring up to the La Jolla house. I assume that Sabin will ride up with me, and I am beyond appalled when he informs me that he’ll be taking his motorcycle.
“Motorcycle?” I nearly scream. “Since when do you ride a motorcycle? They’re dangerous. Oh God, Sabin.”
For a minute, I try to believe that he’s joking, but he walks to a lush area near the base of the tree house and shows me his bike. I feel ill. I don’t like the idea of Sabin zipping around on this thing.
“Don’t you worry for one second. I got me very good noggin protection.” He grins and sets a helmet on his head. “And it’s got a lucky horse painted on it. See?” He taps the shiny helmet and drops the visor down. “Let’s roll, baby!”
I white-knuckle the steering wheel on the drive back to the house as I try to pay attention to the road in front of me and not the fact that Sabin is riding too fast and constantly changing lanes. He’s probably intentionally riding like an asshole, and I’m nothing but relieved when we both pull up to the house.
Chris comes out to greet us just as I’m about to clobber Sabin.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” I scream while Sabin looks annoyingly bemused. “What the hell?”
“Ah, saved by the brother.” Sabin turns to Chris. “Again.”
Chris tackles him in a hug. “Nice bike, man.”
“See? Chris gets me.” Sabin hugs him back, but I could swear that I see restraint there.
I only notice it because I know Sabin so well—or at least, I think I do. Maybe I’m wrong because Chris just seems thrilled to see his brother, and he’s not reacting as though Sabin is not himself.
I grab some of the stuff from the car while Chris examines Sabin’s death mobile and asks lots of questions.
“We have to get a tree!” I call back to them as I head inside.
“We will!” they answer.
“Christmas is coming!”
“We know!”
“Everyone will be here soon, and we have shit to do!”
“We get it!”
“So, come on!”
