Текст книги "Unsung"

Автор книги: Shannon Richard

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

The woman was busy, there was no doubt. She was about two months into her new job running the PR department for St. Ignatius, one of the top hospitals in the south and her new official relationship with a now Stanley Cup winner Logan James. The Stampede had just won two days ago, but Abby had taken a break from the celebrations to come to the shower.

Abby took in the scene in front of her, her steps faltering as she walked into the bathroom. “Trevor discovered the cake table,” she explained.

“Ahh,” all three women said as they took a step back from the sinks to make room.

Grace excused herself to one of the stalls, while Harper washed her hands and Mel fiddled with her short blond curls in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.

Abby made quick work at the sink, cleaning herself up and unsnapping her purse to pull out her compact. She touched up her makeup before she turned to Harper, a bottle of eyedrops in her hand. “Allergies sure have been a bitch this year.”

“Thanks.” Harper managed a watery smile as she grabbed the bottle.

“No problem. And keep it.” Abby nodded to the bottle before she reached out, touching Harper’s hand lightly, and then headed out of the bathroom.

Harper tilted her head back and put a few drops into each eye, grabbing another tissue and dabbing at the new stream of moisture on her face.

“Okay,” Grace said as she came out of the bathroom stall and started washing her hands in the sink. “Start talking.”

“Can we not do this here? Please?” Harper shook her head, doing everything in her power to hold back the fresh wave of tears that threatened.

She knew she needed to tell them. That she actually wanted to tell them. To talk to her best friends and tell them everything that was going on. She just didn’t want it to be in a bathroom where anyone that was still there cleaning up could walk in on the conversation. She was under no delusions that she’d be able to keep it together when she told Mel and Grace everything.

None.

“Your reprieve is only going to last as long as it takes for everyone to leave.” The severe look on Mel’s face brokered no argument.

“Yup, as soon as everyone clears out we are having ourselves a little conversation. Got it?”

“Got it.” Harper nodded, taking a deep breath to fortify herself.

The truth was definitely about to will out…and very, very soon.

*  *  *

Grace had kept her word. There was no dilly-dallying in storytelling. As soon as the last person was out the door, she flipped the lock and pulled Harper and Mel into the back of the café. She was able to do this as she was part owner of said café. Her grandmother, Lula Mae King, had opened it years ago, and Grace was now in charge of all the baked goods.

As it was well past Rosie Mae’s naptime, she’d gone home with her great-grandmother, so the women were able to talk freely. They all settled into the table and chairs set up in the back corner of the café kitchen, and Harper told them every last detail…except for one very important one.

She left out the fact that she was without a doubt in love with Liam. For now, she was going to keep that to herself.

“So I’m pregnant,” Harper finished, looking both of them in the eye in turn. She took a deep breath, letting it out in a wave of relief.

They knew. She’d told someone. Two someones. She wasn’t alone in this.

After a few beats of silence, where both of her friends digested the news, Mel was the first to talk. “Okay, I’m going to ask the obvious question here. How did this happen? You guys did…you know…use protection, didn’t you? And aren’t you on birth control?”

“I stopped taking it after Brad, which is why everything has been a bit irregular lately. And we did use condoms…they just didn’t work.”

“No kidding,” Grace said slowly, still in shock. “Does he know?”

Harper shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Yet. So you are going to tell him?” Mel asked.

“Yes. I am.” She nodded, and she was going to have to tell him much sooner than later.

She’d long since programmed his number into her phone. She’d also spent more than one night staring at the piece of paper that he’d written said number on—and his address for that matter—all those weeks ago.

She was pathetic. Just another thing to add to the list.

One: Coward

Two: Delusional

Three: Pregnant

Four: Pathetic

She could keep going, but she wasn’t really interested in feeling more depressed about the situation. She’d reached her max.

“And after?” Mel asked.

“I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen after I tell him…if he’ll want to be involved, or if I’ll be raising this child alone. Because I will be raising this child. That much I do know. Without a doubt.”

“Well, that’s good, but you’re wrong about one thing,” Grace said as she reached across the table and grabbed Harper’s hand.

“Yeah,” Mel agreed as she grabbed Harper’s other hand. “You will not be raising this child alone.”

And there was another thing to be added to the list.

Number five: Foolish

Because not telling her friends earlier had been beyond foolish.

*  *  *

The waiting area of the women’s health wing of the Atticus County Hospital was almost empty when Harper and Mel took a seat, but that’s what Harper had been hoping for when she’d made the eight a.m. appointment.

She’d asked Beth—who was an OB/GYN nurse and had gotten a job at the hospital when she’d moved back—to get her in as early as possible, and her friend had complied.

“You’re going to need to get me another cup of coffee when we leave here,” Mel said around another yawn.

“Seriously, don’t your classes start at seven in the morning?”

Mel was a high school math teacher so she kept an early schedule nine months out of the year, something that Harper found to be a miracle as her friend wasn’t much of a morning person…actually she wasn’t a morning person in the slightest little bit. The woman required multiple cups of coffee in the morning to actually function like a human.

“Yes.” Mel nodded. “But in the summer I keep summer hours, which means sleeping in.”

“Your husband let you get away with that?” Harper asked as she started to fill out the forms in front of her.

Name: Harper Maria Laurence

“Are you kidding? Bennett sleeps in, too. He takes full advantage of longer mornings in bed.”

Age: Twenty-six

“I’ll just bet he does.” She did her best to keep her voice neutral when she checked the single box.

Not alone. Not alone. Not alone. She told herself. The fact that Mel was there was proof positive of this fact. And Harper knew beyond a doubt that Mel had absolutely no qualms about being in the doctor’s office that early in the morning. Mel was making a valiant attempt at distracting Harper, and though it wasn’t working all that much, she appreciated the effort nonetheless.

Mel continued talking as Harper started to fill out her address.

She lived on the third floor of a walk-up. Two bedrooms, one her “laboratory”/storage for the lotions and oils she made. There was barely enough room in there as it was, so it would definitely be too small for a baby’s nursery. Who was she kidding? The entire apartment would be too small for a baby’s nursery.

What was she going to do? The rent for the place was pretty much the max that she could afford as it was, and now she was going to have so many more added expenses when the baby came along.

Oh God.

“Hey.” Mel’s hand was on Harper’s knee squeezing lightly. “Where did you just go?”

She turned to look at her friend, knowing that her wide eyes were filled with a fear she couldn’t control. “I’m either going to have to be homeless with a baby or move back in with my parents.”

“Okay, I don’t think those are your only options. So let’s stop spiraling. And how about I finish filling this out,” Mel said as she pulled the clipboard and pen out of Harper’s hands. “One step at a time, babe, and I don’t think we are anywhere near where you just went.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Here.” She reached over and grabbed the newest copy of People. “Read up on what’s going on with Miley Cyrus and Kim Kardashian, it will make you feel better about your life. One because you’ve yet to prance around wearing a slutty teddy bear onesie while doing this.” She stuck out her tongue and held up two peace signs. “Nor have you been impregnated by Kanye West.” She paused, tilting her head to the side as she narrowed her eyes on Harper. “I mean, Kanye isn’t the father, is he? You didn’t just say Liam as a code name, did you?”

“She’s got jokes, ladies and gentlemen.” Harper rolled her eyes, but she did have a smile creeping up her face as she focused on the magazine in her lap.

It was another five minutes before Harper heard her name called. She looked up to find Beth holding the door open. Her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing light blue scrubs that were almost the exact same shade as her eyes. Eyes that widened fractionally when she saw that Mel was sitting next to Harper.

Beth had probably just thought Harper needed to see the doctor for a routine checkup or something. She probably hadn’t guessed that her friend was pregnant. But she didn’t ask any questions or comment at all when Mel came with them. She just nodded before she turned and led them down the hallway.

“Weight first.” Beth stopped in front of the scale. Harper handed her purse to Mel before she got on.

Hey, every little bit counted.

But when she saw the number that Beth jotted down, she cringed. She’d lost twenty pounds in the last few months, and though she didn’t think that all of it was post getting pregnant, she knew that some of it was and concern for the baby filled her, causing her chest to tighten and that ever-present anxiety to perk up.

Well, her blood pressure number was going to be awesome now, wasn’t it?

Chapter Six How to Be a Grown-Ass Adult Step One: Wait Until the Following Week

An hour later it was official. Officially official. Harper was pregnant and due at the end of January.

This was happening.

She was now sitting at a booth in Café Lula with Grace on one side of her and Mel sitting across from them. They were all munching on some ginger cookies that Grace had whipped up.

They’d apparently worked wonders on Grace’s nauseous stomach when she’d been pregnant. She had high hopes that those—along with the cup of herbal tea that was going down sip by sip—would do the same for Harper.

So far it was working…and she was only slightly jealous of the caffeine glaze in both Grace’s and Mel’s eyes as they enjoyed their morning coffee.

The doctor had said it could take a month or two before things evened out and her appetite got back to normal. Until then she was going to try to see if the anti-nausea meds she’d been prescribed combined with some natural remedies would do the trick.

She really didn’t have any other options.

“Okay. So what’s the plan of attack?” Grace asked. “When are you telling him?”

“Yeah.” Mel nodded as she put her mug down on the table. “Are you calling him, or going there? Or what?”

“I don’t know yet.” Harper chewed on her bottom lip. “This isn’t exactly information I want to tell him over the phone. But seeing him again is going to be complicated.”

“Sweetie, I think from here on out we’re going to have to deal with everything being complicated,” Grace said before she took another sip of her coffee.

“I know,” Harper groaned, dropping her head and gently banging it against the table.

“Okay, I have a thought that might prevent you from doing that,” Mel said as she patted the back of Harper’s head. “I don’t think giving yourself a concussion is the answer.”

Harper lifted her head and looked across the table at her friend. “What’s your plan?”

“Give yourself the week. It hasn’t even been thirty minutes since we left the doctor and this was all really official. And I think you should get out of town this weekend.”

“What?” Harper asked.

“Give yourself a second to breathe,” Grace agreed.

“And do what?”

“Come to Jacksonville for the Stampede party. Dale’s mom can’t go so there’s an extra ticket and hotel room.” Mel grabbed a cookie and dipped it in her coffee. “You should get away for a few days.”

“Because we all know how well getting away worked for me the last time I did it.” Harper made a motion to her stomach over the table.

“This time it will be different. You’ll have a responsible chaperone, and I will be sure not to leave you on your own,” Mel said. “Come on. You should take advantage of a little distraction.”

As the team was celebrating winning the Stanley Cup, the Stampede party promised to be a big event. And would probably be filled with distractions galore. Abby Fields’s boyfriend, Logan James, was one of the bigger players on the team, and he’d developed a number of relationships with some of the members of Mirabelle. The two most important being Mel’s little brother Hamilton O’Bryan, and his best friend Dale Rigels.

It had been a few months before Dale’s seventeenth birthday when the doctors had found the brain tumor. The surgery to remove it had been done immediately and he’d gone through chemo afterward. Now he was three months into remission. Logan had come to visit Dale during his recovery, and they’d kept up with each other ever since.

As Mel’s husband Bennett had become a bit of a mentor, and big brother to both boys, he and Mel were going with them to play chaperone. So what was one more person to watch over? Even if she was a grown-ass adult?

Harper grabbed another cookie and bit into it; she might as well take the time while she had it…because everything was about to change very soon.

Who was she kidding? It already was changing.

Had changed.

*  *  *

On a normal day Harper worked until after five, sometimes six. But that day was not a normal day. Not only had it been incredibly slow, but she finished up before three, which was the biggest godsend.

If someone were to ask her what had happened that day, it would’ve been hard for her to remember. She’d pretty much just gone through the motions of everything. But how could she focus when she couldn’t shut her brain off from the all-consuming anxiety and worry…or continuously thinking of how she was going to tell Liam.

Before she knew it, she was pulling up in front of her parents’ house and putting her Cruiser in Park. She leaned back in the seat, taking just a moment to collect herself before she went inside.

The rule of show no weakness around her mother was more important than ever. There would be no pregnancy revelations to anyone else until she told Liam. At least she knew that much.

She took another couple of steady breaths as her eyes focused on the two three-story Victorian houses in front of her.

Harper’s family had moved to Mirabelle fifteen years ago. It was right before she was about to start middle school and she hadn’t been exactly thrilled about leaving her life in Atlanta. But now she couldn’t imagine growing up anywhere else.

The two houses were pretty much smack dab in the middle of downtown and they stood about thirty yards apart. Besides the different paint colors—one sage green, the other dark blue—they were identical in every way.

Well, there was another difference. The green one was a residential home and where Harper lived from the age of eleven to eighteen. The blue was the St. Francis Veterinary Clinic…though a case could be made that Harper had spent almost as much time there as the house.

Her father had inherited the clinic from his uncle, and as it was the only vet in the area, it stayed pretty busy. She’d always been there helping out especially when they’d started the pet adoption/foster portion.

Mirabelle was part of Atticus County, and the only animal shelter in the area was a kill shelter. So for a couple of years, the clinic had been the temporary home to as many cats and dogs that could be taken in and saved from being euthanized. Harper would spend many hours playing with them and giving them as much attention as possible.

These days, there were a number of foster homes that would take in the animals until they were adopted. It was a much better option than them living in cages for weeks on end.

Or being put down.

The St. Francis Foster Pet Adoption program was one of the reasons that Harper needed to stop by her parents’ house. Her mother was putting together baskets for a fund-raiser, and she’d asked for some of Harper’s lotions and oils.

Which was something Harper found beyond interesting.

There were a number of things that Delilah Laurence didn’t approve of, and her daughter’s career choice was near the top. Though this didn’t stop her from hitting Harper up for the homemade “lotions and potions” that everyone else loved, not to mention a donated gift certificate for massage “services rendered” had been requested more times than could be counted.

None of that changed the facts: a massage therapist was not a way to make a living.

The words had never actually been spoken, but Harper was pretty sure that was one of the reasons her mother had liked Brad so much. He was successful. So when her career as a massage therapist failed her “husband” would be able to take care of her.

Not only had that not worked out, but now Harper was pregnant without any husband at all.

Oh, look at that, her anxiety was spiking again.

Well, might as well give herself a small reprieve and go over to see her father before she had to face the firing squad that was her mother. The constant contention that she had with her mother was non-existent in the relationship she had with her father. She was a daddy’s girl through and through.

When she walked inside the clinic she was greeted with the customary squawk of Gabby, the white and yellow cockatoo perched at the currently empty receptionist desk. The bird had been surrendered to the practice ten years ago when the owner died, and was now the unofficial mascot of the practice.

“Hello.” Gabby flapped her wings as she adjusted on the stand.

Harper walked over to her, always the first order of business when she visited, and scratched the bird’s chest. “Hey, pretty girl,” she purred. Gabby’s feathers ruffled in delight at the attention. “Where is everybody?”

“Getting our middle of the day caffeine fix.” A deep voice—along with boots walking across the hardwood floor—echoed down the hall behind the desk.

Harper looked over just as Finn Shepherd walked into the reception area.

Until about a year ago, her father had not only owned the sole practice in Mirabelle, but he’d been the only vet. When Finn had graduated from veterinary school and moved back, he’d been hired onto the practice. The additional doctor had been more than needed. The workload having increased significantly over the years, and as her father was getting older it was a bit of a worry for Harper.

As it turned out, her father was adjusting just fine to sharing the practice. But as Finn was pretty much the son Paul never had, it wasn’t all that surprising. Harper had grown up with Finn. Not only were they in the same year in school, but he’d been in and out of the practice learning everything he could since he was sixteen.

Before Brad had been in the picture, Harper’s mother had always wanted her to end up with Finn. Though there was no denying that the man was attractive beyond words—what with his sapphire blue eyes, thick black wavy hair, and black-framed glasses that only added another layer of sexy—she’d always looked at him like a brother. And he’d always looked at her like a sister.

Besides, these days the only man she was thinking about had green-gold eyes and a deep, rich voice that set every part of her on fire. A man that she knew almost nothing about…except that she was in love with him. Oh, and she was carrying his child.

God, when had her life gotten so complicated?

Well, there was no time to focus on that because five seconds after Finn came into the room, another set of shoes echoed down the hallway. These were definitely heels as opposed to work boots.

“Ohhh, do my ears deceive me or is that one of my favorite girls?” The kind face and gray-haired head of Janet Peterson popped through the doorway, her own steaming cup of coffee in hand.

Harper was only slightly bitter that she couldn’t join in with her own cup. She was exhausted and really wishing she could get a little pick-me-up, too. Even with her limited coffee intake over the last couple of weeks, she was still a caffeine junkie. Admitting it was half the battle.

But as Janet’s coffee was usually strong enough for a spoon to stand up straight, Harper wasn’t going to tempt fate or mess with the delicate balance of her stomach. Besides, she shouldn’t be drinking the stuff now anyway.

Janet was pretty much the backbone of the clinic, and it ran on more than just her coffee-making skills. She’d been working the receptionist desk for the last thirty years, and was still going strong in her sixties.

Before Harper could even respond to the question Janet asked, the woman had set down the coffee mug and pulled her into one of those soul-affirming hugs. Really, Harper should stop by every day just for one of these.

When Janet pulled back, Paul walked into the room, his mouth splitting into that customary grin when he laid eyes—the exact same shade as Harper’s—on his daughter.

No matter what was going on, at least some things hadn’t changed.

“Hey, sweet pea.” He pulled Harper into his arms, giving her a kiss on the temple like he always did, before he let go and took a step back.

“Hey, Daddy.”

“You get off early?” he asked, checking his watch.

“Yeah, my last appointment canceled. And it was a bit of a slow day.”

“It’s been slow here, too,” Janet said as she reached for her coffee and took a sip. But the words were barely out of her mouth when the door behind them opened.

Gabby squawked again—no need for a bell over the door when they had this bird—as Tripp Black walked into the building. Tripp was Mirabelle’s resident fire chief, a job he’d had for the last two and half years ever since he’d moved to the area. He was another insanely attractive man with thick brown hair, and warm chocolate brown eyes. But again, Harper had only ever been friends with the man.

As he was wearing his navy blue uniform pants and a gray polo with the Mirabelle Fire logo, she was guessing he was on duty. He made his way into the room and she noticed he was cradling a rather large ball of white and brown fur in his massive arms.

The ball of fluff shifted, or should she say balls. There were two puppies in Tripp’s arms, and while one lifted its head from the crook of his elbow, the other burrowed deeper into his chest whining.

“Didn’t know where else to take them. Someone abandoned these little guys at the station. No one even saw them drop the cardboard box at the door, but we did hear the barking.”

This was a better alternative than what most people did, which was abandon their unwanted animals on the side of the road. Something Harper would never understand for as long as she lived.

That was what happened to Luna. She’d been no more than two months old when someone found her wandering through a neighborhood. She had no collar, was starving, and covered in fleabites. Her father had never seen the dog before the day she’d been brought in, so he’d had no idea who the owner was.

Weeks went by with no one looking for or claiming the puppy. As Harper had been the one fostering her—and had gotten attached faster than it took to blink—the adoption had been obvious.

As Luna was a purebred French bulldog, Paul always suspected that it was a local breeder who’d just let her go without a care. She was most definitely the runt of the litter and had a slight limp as her left back leg was just a tad bit shorter than the rest.

Apparently imperfection was a reason that meant someone or something wasn’t worthy to live. All a pile of garbage if you asked her. This was one of the reasons why Harper firmly believed there was a special place in hell reserved for people who were that cruel and heartless.

“Let me see.” Finn moved closer, holding his hands out.

“I’d take the girl.” Tripp nodded to the one who was sniffing the air around her. “The boy seems to have clinging issues with me.”

Finn grabbed the puppy that was mostly white, just a few brown spots on her head and back, and pulled her into his chest. He touched one of her front legs, moving his hand down. “Well, I don’t think they are going to stay little for very long. This one’s paws are pretty big compared to her body.”

“Definitely a mix,” Paul said, moving forward and taking a look.

“They’re going to be massive. Probably why someone abandoned them.” Janet moved forward, scratching the chest of the puppy that was in Finn’s hands. She preened, wanting more affection.

“Can you start lining up a foster family while we get them checked out?” Paul asked Janet.

“On it.” She nodded as she headed for her desk and pulled out an address book.

“And if we can’t find a foster family I can take them home,” Finn said.

“I don’t know if this one is going to let you take him from Tripp’s arms.” Harper reached over and ran her hand down the puppy’s back. Even though she could only see about half of him, he looked to be evenly light brown and white all over his body. “You might just need to adopt him permanently.” She looked up at Tripp and grinned.

“I don’t think my town house would hold up to this guy. My yard is a postage stamp.”

“Hey, haven’t you been talking about getting a house? Problem solved.” Finn raised his eyebrows, his blue eyes lighting up like it was the most brilliant plan in the world.

Tripp’s mouth turned down into a frown as he shook his head. “How about you just get them checked out first before you assign me a new roommate?”

“You just stopping in to say hello, or did you need anything?” Paul asked Harper.

“Needed to drop some stuff off for Mom and see if you guys wouldn’t mind watching Luna this weekend,” she said as she gently scratched her nails down the puppy’s back. For the first time he slowly lifted his head from where it was buried in Tripp’s elbow.

“Where are you going?”

“Jacksonville. There’s an extra ticket for the Stampede party,” she answered, barely paying attention to anything besides the dog’s face. He looked like a little teddy bear and he closed his eyes in pleasure when she started scratching under his chin.

It took her a second to realize that all three men had stopped talking. She looked up to find three sets of eyes looking at her in shock.

“What?” she asked, not stopping the attention she was giving to the puppy.

“You’re going to a party with the most recent Stanley Cup winners?” Finn’s voice didn’t spare an ounce of envy. “Do you even watch hockey?”

“Sometimes.” She shrugged. Meaning when it was on one of the TVs at the Sleepy Sheep she’d occasionally look up at it and see a game. The only sport she really followed was baseball, and that was because Grace was a hard-core Boston Red Sox fan and her friend’s fandom had carried over.

“Sometimes?” Tripp asked aghast. “I think we’re friends with the wrong people,” he said to Finn. “We need to get in with Dale and Hamilton.”

“You think we can bribe them with a dog?” Finn eyed the girl puppy in his arms that reached up and pawed at his face. He scratched her under the chin and she leaned into his chest, nuzzling his neck.

“I don’t know. I think we’re going to have to think bigger. You got any horses you’re willing to trade?” Tripp asked.

Not only was Finn a vet, but he worked out at his aunt and uncle’s farm helping with the horses they trained and boarded.

“Not at the moment.” Finn shook his head. “But I’ll get back to you.”

“I want to hear more about this trip of yours,” Paul said, focusing on Harper. “And your mother and I watching Luna shouldn’t be a problem. But you should double check with your mom anyway.”

“I’ll go do that now and let you guys get them checked out.” She gave the puppy in Tripp’s arms one last good scratch before she kissed her father on the cheek, said good-bye to everyone, and headed outside.

She grabbed the box of lemon oils and lavender lotions from the back of her Cruiser before making her way to the house. When she walked inside, she was enveloped in the seventy-two-degree blast of air that was the standard in the Laurence household.

“Mom,” she called out as the door closed behind her.

“In the kitchen,” Delilah answered.

Darby, her parents’ border collie/mutt mix, came sprinting into the hallway barking excitedly.

“Shhh, nothing to get worked up over,” Harper told the dog. “It’s just me.”

The familiar scent of the Angelo family’s homemade marinara sauce, or gravy as her mother called it, filled Harper’s nose as she made her way to the kitchen. Her mother’s side of the family was Italian, and a good amount of extended family still lived in Italy. Her mother and aunt had been born and raised in the States, and certain traditions had carried over. Like cooking…and Catholic guilt.

“I brought the stuff for the baskets,” Harper said when she walked into the room to find her mother at the stove, spooning the gravy into rows of mason jars. No doubt these were going to be added to the baskets as well.

“Oh good.” Her mother turned around, eyebrows raised and mouth pursed as she did the Delilah-once-over. “You look exhausted.”

Code for you look like crap.

Well, wasn’t that a lovely greeting?

“It’s just been a long couple of days.” Harper put the box on the counter before she knelt down and petted Darby. The dog started sniffing her hand like she was attempting to inhale it. No doubt trying to figure out what other dog—besides Luna—Harper had come in contact with.

“Hmmm. I’m beginning to think it’s been a long couple of months with you.”

Truer words couldn’t have been spoken. “It has been. Which is why I was actually planning on going out of town this weekend with Mel and Bennett and the boys. Would you mind watching Luna for me?”

“Didn’t you just go out of town a couple of weeks ago? You know constantly running from your problems isn’t going to make them go away.”

Well, Harper was wrong. Those were truer words.

“Mom, can you watch her for me or not?”

“You know I have no problems watching Luna. She’s probably the only grandchild I’m going to get anyway.”