Lost Without Me

My husband can't find his way anywhere. He can't read a map, and turn-by-turn directions only confuse him more. He got lost on our wedding day and turned up so late the ceremony had to be pushed back three days. He got lost on our anniversary while a table of food I'd cooked went cold. Eight months pregnant, I fell in the bathroom and called him for help. He sounded frantic on the phone, and then he got lost on the road home, the one he'd driven for five years. By the time he reached the hospital, our son had already been taken to the funeral home and cremated. I couldn't climb out of it, and everyone around me took his side. "That thick head of his can't hold a road. He wasn't late on purpose. Don't start a fight over it. You'll have another baby." I nodded, numb. Then, on the way to my son's funeral, I found out my husband had sent the driver away and taken a long detour to his assistant's house without a single wrong turn. "Grace, the service won't start for a while. I'll run Paige to the airport first. She's got to get back home." Before I could say no, we were already at her door. His assistant slid into the front passenger seat like it belonged to her, and every word out of her mouth landed somewhere tender. "See how well I've trained you? You forget the way to my place and I'll pull your pants down and deal with you." It was only when she noticed me in the back seat that she stuck out her tongue, embarrassed. "Sorry, Ms. Ellison. I was joking." I swallowed it and said nothing. And after Owen dropped her off, he lost the route to the cemetery again, and my son's service started half an hour late. Holding that small urn against me, I stopped hoping. So there was someone he could make an exception for. It just wasn't me, and it wasn't our son. Chapter 1 I pushed Elliot's urn into Owen's hands and got behind the wheel myself. Neither of us said a word the whole way. Owen looked guilty and pressed a hand to his head as he apologized. "Grace, I'm sorry. I went over the route last night. I don't know how I still—" I thought of the map he'd been studying before bed. The pin he'd dropped was his assistant's house. Owen really couldn't hold a route in his head. He'd gotten lost countless times since he was a kid, and someone always had to go find him. Before the wedding, our friend Nadia used to tease him about it. "Grace is basically your GPS. Let's hope the baby doesn't take after you." Only now did I understand that there were places he could remember. The winding roads had never been the problem. He could sit up all night with the lamp on, studying one route. He didn't spare a thought for the wife crying beside him over the son they'd lost. What was I to him, exactly? At Cedarveil Memorial Park, I lowered the small urn into the grave and couldn't hold back the tears. Right at the heart of the service, in the middle of the remembrance, Owen stood up to leave. "Grace, something's happened to Paige. I have to go." Paige Norwood was his assistant. I'd lost count of how many times he'd walked out on me. The prenatal appointment he swore he'd be at — one phone call and he was gone. Our anniversary, the restaurant booked for months, canceled without a second thought. This time I screamed at him. "If you walk out now, we're done." Owen stopped. "It's urgent. Don't make a scene." My laugh came out wretched. "I'm making a scene? Our son is gone, and his own father can't spare five minutes to say goodbye to him? Don't tell me it's company business, Owen. Who else can't handle it? What is so important that it has to be you?" Owen bit his lip and hesitated a couple of seconds before he answered. "Paige says she's going to kill herself. Something terrible happened to her family. I can't just leave her to it—" I cut him off. "I gave every driver the day off. You'd be useless anyway. You'd never find the road. Call the police and let them run a welfare check." He left anyway. I stood there alone in black and said goodbye to my son. It was like the pregnancy all over again. I'd talked to him alone then too. From the first day to the last, I was the only one who ever showed up for him. Once the service was over, I opened the location app and watched Owen cover three hundred miles without stopping. A few hours later, the pin settled precisely on Paige's hometown of Foxmere. He hadn't wasted a single minute. Reading the directions must have taken everything he had, because I couldn't reach him for the rest of the night. There was nothing left to misread. I pulled up Vivian Marsh's number. "Draft me a divorce agreement." Chapter 2 The next day I went to see Owen's grandmother, and to my surprise he'd brought Paige home with him. The family traded looks, but not one of them said a word to Owen about it. I'd spent ten years of my marriage building a career before I decided to have a baby, and then I hadn't been able to keep him. As far as they were concerned, that made me selfish, and every ounce of blame landed on me. "Couldn't even hold on to one baby. All that celebrating for nothing. Hurry up and try again." Nobody asked why there'd been water on the bathroom floor. Nobody asked how weak my body still was, or that the stretch marks hadn't faded from my stomach yet. The weight of it pressed down until I couldn't breathe, and I set down my fork. "There won't be another one." Ruth Kessler's smile froze on her face, and Owen rushed to soothe her. "Grace just isn't ready yet, Grandma. We'll try again in a while." After dinner he came looking for me. "Why would you say that? You know how badly Grandma wants a great-grandson." I turned the pages of the agreement I'd had drawn up, and inside I was laughing. What exactly did this family think I was? Any child of mine would be born into love. Not born because somebody wanted one produced. I held out the papers. "Sign. If she wants a great-grandson, you can have one with somebody else." Owen choked on whatever he'd meant to say and leaned in to see what he was holding, and then Paige appeared in the doorway. I don't know what he was in such a hurry about. He signed without so much as glancing down, which saved me a great deal of trouble. If anything, it made Owen and me look like the two people sneaking around. His mouth curved without his noticing. "You closed that account beautifully, Paige. And you've had a lot on your plate at home. Name whatever gift you want. It's yours." I was on my way out when Paige turned those wounded eyes on me. "Could I have your necklace, Grace?" My fingers tightened before I could stop them. That necklace was part of a set made for the three of us — Owen had spent forever on it, sketching it himself, standing over the jeweler while it was made. And he didn't recognize it. "Give it to her, Grace. You've got a mountain of jewelry. You won't miss one piece." Paige lit up. Something caught in my throat, and every word came out raw. "You're sure about that?" Only then did Owen lean in and actually look. "Oh. That one." He hesitated a long moment, then frowned at me. "Grace, I already told her she could have it. It's a bad look for a boss to go back on his word. How about I have another set made for you later?" My nails broke the skin of my palm. It was the sight of the agreement that steadied me. Right. What was left to care about? "Fine." How fast I gave in seemed to throw him, and he opened his mouth like he might take it back. I'd already unclasped the necklace, and I pulled the second piece out of my pocket. The bracelet. The third piece, for our family of three. They could have all of it. With the necklace off my neck I felt oddly lighter, and I got ready to leave that night. Owen actually came after me. "Grace, are you angry? I'll buy you a new one. Look and tell me which you like." Every option was from the same collection. He was right. I wasn't short on jewelry. What I was short on was a husband who meant it. He didn't mean any of it, and I didn't want it anymore. I pointed at one at random and went back to our house to pack. Chapter 3 I didn't expect Owen to follow me back. He rubbed his hands together awkwardly. "I drove behind you the whole way. Paige is doing a lot better, so I sent her home." I didn't answer. I was busy clearing out the nursery. He watched me work, baffled. "Why are you tearing it down already? We'll have another baby, and then we'll just have to set it all up again." Even now he thought I was sulking. Of course he did. He'd never been sick every morning for three months. He'd never felt the baby move. He had no idea how every small kick had run straight through my heart. It rose up in me all at once, and I made myself not cry. I slept hard that night, and I woke up to find Paige in the house. She dropped straight to her knees in front of me. "Grace, please help me. You're the only one who can." I had no idea what she was talking about. Owen tried to pull her up, but she wouldn't leave the floor. "Grace, my grandmother is all alone out in that country cemetery. I want to bring her closer to the city. Please give her a home." I reached for the door, speechless. That was a conversation to have with a cemetery, not with me. Owen blocked it. "Paige has never asked you for anything. At least hear her out." She looked utterly wounded. "Your baby was so small. He doesn't need a whole plot to himself. Couldn't Grandma's urn go along one side? The space is just sitting there empty." She wanted my son to share a grave with a stranger. I said no without a second's thought. Her eyes went red. "There's nowhere in the city with grounds that peaceful. Grace, please — think about how much I loved her." My answer was final. "Never." Owen stepped into my path. "Grace, I get a say in this too. Sharing a plot isn't some unheard-of thing. Stop being so old-fashioned about it." The words went through me like a blade. I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and slapped him. "Say that one more time. Over my dead body. I mean it." Paige immediately put herself in front of him. "Grace, take it out on me, not him. Don't do this. I'll take Grandma back to the country if that's what it comes to." I thought that was the end of the whole ridiculous business. That evening Owen seized my shoulders, shaking with it. "Paige already backed off. What more do you want? Why would you send her a letter like that? That boy was unlucky to get a mother like you. No wonder he didn't make it." I stared at him while the tears came down on their own. "What?" He heard himself and softened a little. "Look, I know you're angry. But you didn't have to threaten her. She'd already given it up, and now the poor girl can't sleep." I said I was calling the police. "I don't confess to things I didn't do, Owen. We're getting divorced." He'd swallowed a setup that clumsy. I thought of our vows, and the way he'd smiled when he made me that promise. "If you say it happened, I'll believe you. If you say it didn't, I won't believe anyone else." He still handed that out. He'd just given it to someone else. I used to be his navigation. Now he'd learned every road for another woman, and there was nothing left for me to be. Chapter 4 The fight went nowhere. The door cracked shut. Owen was out again, and he never once noticed how little time he spent at home anymore. The day I got back from giving my statement, Dale Prewitt from Cedarveil Memorial Park called me in a panic. "Ms. Ellison, there's a crew at your family's plot. They're opening it up for some kind of shared burial. They say your husband signed off on it." My heart dropped, and I was already driving. By the time I got there they had most of it open. I threw myself at them and shoved one man back hard. "Who are you? Get away from him. What do you think you're doing at my son's grave?" Two of them caught me and slammed me down on the ground. "Quit screaming. This is Paige's spot now. We'll do whatever we want with it." They held me pinned there. I screamed for both of them. "Where's Owen? Where's Paige? He wouldn't do this. He promised me it was over." Not one of them cared. I watched them open the grave, lift out my son's urn, and set Dolores Norwood's in the center. They left his ashes off to one side like something they'd finished with. A boot came down toward the urn, and I screamed until my voice tore. "Don't—" The urn broke apart, and my son's ashes went up into the wind. I was the only one down there scrabbling after them. He'd been so small. There was barely a handful of him, and the wind took it everywhere. I gave it everything I had and came away with nothing. Something in me went out entirely. They'd already sealed the grave again by the time Owen and Paige came hurrying up. Paige ran at the men and slapped one across the face. "What were you thinking? I told you Grace hadn't agreed. I told you Grandma was staying in the country. You came out here and dug up a grave on your own." They ducked their heads fast. "Our mistake, Paige. Sorry, Owen. We just figured Grandma couldn't wait." Owen looked at the wreckage, then at my face, streaked and filthy. All I had in my hands was a splinter of the lid. Not one trace of him left. Most of the anger drained out of Owen. He crouched down beside me to comfort me. "Grace, it's already done. Let it go, all right? They know they were wrong. We'll light a memorial candle for him at Starlight Remembrance Chapel." I got up and grabbed his coat, out of my mind. "He stepped on it on purpose. You want it even, Owen? Then I break her grandmother's urn and I scatter her too." Paige's eyes filled instantly. "Grace, my grandmother was an old woman. She doesn't deserve that. My cousins run hot, I know, but they aren't bad people. They'd never do something like that on purpose." So my son was the one who could take it. Owen. Which of us did you believe? He hesitated a beat, then quietly moved himself between us. I stared at him, unable to believe a father could stand there and do that to his own child. "For her? You'd go this far for her?" Owen frowned. "I just don't want this getting more complicated than it already is. Everybody loses. What's done is done. Let it end here, and we'll call it even for the letter." I bit through the inside of my cheek and shoved him off me. "I told you I didn't send the letter. I've filed a report. Nobody touches my son's ground again." Then I took a tire iron to the car we'd ridden away from our wedding in, and I drove off without looking back at his face. ... Three days later, guilt had Owen studying every street around the neighborhood. He was working up to surprising Grace with it. He came home to an empty house. Paige's call came through in a panic. "Owen, the cemetery is saying I have no burial rights here. Did Grace hand the plot back? A crew showed up, wouldn't explain anything, and started pulling the urn out— "My grandmother's ashes! You have no right to scatter her!" Chapter 5 Owen stood there blank for a long while, and for some reason almost nothing Paige said reached him. She had to say his name several times before he answered at all. "What?" She repeated it through tears, and he finally agreed to come out. By the time he got there it was already finished. Paige lay across the grave, sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe. "Owen, that was my grandmother. You have to do something. What kind of person plays games with the dead?" Something in his chest lurched. His son had gone the same way. So this was what it felt like. And he'd only worked it out once Paige's eyes went red. Then how much had his Grace been carrying? He hadn't answered, so Paige tugged at his sleeve. "Owen." He helped her to her feet. "It's all right. I'll handle it." She wasn't satisfied. "This is all Grace's doing. How could she give up the plot without telling anyone?" He had no interest in the complaint and brushed it off. "I'll talk to her." Paige bit down on her lip. "That's it? She had my grandmother pulled out of the ground and half her ashes are gone. I'm not letting that go." She didn't hear a thing wrong with what she'd just said. Owen's face went cold. "You're not letting it go? Then what were you doing telling me to calm down, telling Grace not to make an issue of it, when it was her son on the ground?" She had no answer. She clearly hadn't expected him to turn on her. Her eyes reddened. "Owen, I—" He didn't indulge her this time. He got in his car and drove off. He knew the way home now. There was nobody at the end of it. Something restless crawled under his skin. He looked everywhere and turned up nothing. She'd gone like smoke. Everything to do with Paige dropped clean out of his head. That night, drinking alone, he caught sight of the necklace on the nightstand. He must have been out of his mind to hand away something like that. He called Paige that same hour. "I've had a whole new set commissioned for you. I want the other one back." Whatever she'd been about to say died in her throat. "You want what?" He repeated himself, impatient. "The necklace you asked for that day. It matters to me. It should never have been handed out as a bonus. Give it back." Paige took several breaths before she trusted her voice. "I lost it." Owen came off the couch. "Lost it where? I saw you wearing it yesterday. Never mind. Send me everywhere you've been and I'll put people on every stop." She sounded small and hurt. "It's so late. Is one necklace really worth all this?" His chest ached with the pressure of it. "It's worth it." She was upset, but she put the list together anyway, and she kept pushing him about the cemetery. "I only got part of Grandma's ashes back. You're really not going to fix this for me?" Owen frowned. Paige always talked like someone who needed rescuing, and that tone had walked him into solving more problems than he could count. He'd admit it. Somewhere along the way he'd started feeling something for her. But it was a flutter, nothing more. Nowhere near enough to stand in for his wife. Put some distance between them and it would fade out on its own. He gave her a vague answer, forgot it before the call ended, and told the company to transfer her to a branch out in the middle of nowhere. He wanted everything back the way it had been. When Paige found out about the transfer, she threw the door open on a meeting he was still running. "What is this supposed to be, Owen? A transfer? You promised me a promotion. What kind of future do I have at a branch like that?" He looked at her without any warmth at all. "Then quit." She stared at him as she'd never seen him before. It was probably the first time she had. For a long moment she couldn't get a word out. Even the people around the table started glancing at each other. "What happened between him and his assistant? Weren't they practically family?" "No idea. Word is she ran his wife off. Say what you want, an affair's an affair. Doesn't matter how respectable she dresses it up." The color came and went in her face. "Owen, you—"