Page 28 of See You at the Finish Line

“Caleb?” Adam says. His confusion seems to grow.

“Adam Ashford and Paige Harrison?” the race director asks us, her voice serious. When we nod, she turns her focus on me. “Mr.Sharpe has told us you veered off the course, around the designated path.”

Adam’s head whips towards Caleb and then to Lucy.

The race director sounds resigned. “So it is true.”

It’s not a question but I answer anyway. “There was a rockslide,” I say. “I lost the path and couldn’t find my way out for a while. I’m not sure which way I was going.”

“Please hand over your GPS tracking chip. We need to check your route,” one of the assistants says to me. I unclip the chip and hand it over.

What is going on? “I was trying to find my way back.”

“And you checked in to the next aid station before forcing a volunteer to erase your name?” the race director asks Adam.

He doesn’t shift his hard stare away from Caleb. “I did, she needed help.”

“She didn’t call for help,” Caleb says quietly.

“My phone got wet, I couldn’t access CalTopo. I was just trying to get back to the path,” I say, confused at how my mishap is being blown out of proportion. It doesn’t officially say anywhere in the rules that we can’t backtrack. But if I accidentally took a shortcut ...

“Paths change due to inclement weather all the time. Paige just had to make her own adjustments.” Adam is visibly shaking beside me. I reach out a hand to calm him, but he avoids the contact, taking a step towards Caleb.

Was that intentional? Is he upset with me?

The assistant shows the director something on the screen and she deflates, sighing as she turns back to us.

“Unfortunately,” the director says, clearing her throat, “we cannot tolerate this kind of behaviour from our racers. Your map shows that you cut off a significant portion of the trail, Paige. Adam, it is against the rules to interfere with volunteers, and once you check in, you cannot go back.

"We understand that you have spent significant time and financial investment to complete this race, but unfortunately, you both have been disqualified.”

ALMOST TWO YEARS LATER

“Are you sure youwant to leave me and literally the cutest baby to have ever graced the planet?” Leah asks as I carry the last box out to my Jeep. It’s heavy, and I have to place it carefully so my mug collection won’t break.

“I guess you’re right, I’ll stay,” I tell her, slamming the trunk closed.

“Really?”

Motherhood has stolen her brain cells. I hear that happens, but I didn’t expect it to happen to my sister, an intelligent woman in STEM—my sister with a PhD.

“No, loser, I am not staying.” I reach out and take my nephew from her arms. “Though if anyone could make me stay it would be this little bug.” I nuzzle his nose with mine. “I’ll make you a deal. If he says ‘Auntie Paige’ right now, I’ll unpack and stay.”

My sister actually leans in to her two-month-old baby and whispers, “Say ‘Auntie Paige,’ Levi. Auntie Paigeis abandoning us unless you say her name!” She uses her sing-song baby voice. I know she’s joking ... mostly.

We both stare at the baby in my arms, and it really does take everything in me to give him one last kiss and hand him back. With a long drive ahead, I don’t want to start with blurry eyes from tears I won’t let spill over.

I pull my sister and nephew into the biggest hug I can manage in our awkward configuration, squeezing them tight. When I let go, tears stream down Leah’s face. I’m doomed.

“Mom would be proud,” she whispers to me.

“Ugh, why’d you have to go and say that?” Tears spring back to my own eyes.

“Because you know she’ll haunt us if we don’t talk about her in every conversation we have.”

“True.” I nod in agreement. “Bye, Mom!” I yell into Leah’s house. The urn of our mother’s ashes is displayed on her fireplace next to Dad’s.

She thinks it’s creepy, but it was our compromise. I wanted to make the ashes into an hourglass to use on game night. When I saw it online, she tried to tell me it was a joke, but I thought it was a great idea. This was the alternative she could live with.

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