Sisters Like Us

“We have a new dog.”

Lexi blinked at her. “There’s a non sequitur. You have a dog?”

Stacey explained about Becca and the inherited dogs. “We took Bay. She’s beautiful and so well trained. With all the confusion, it didn’t seem like a good time to tell my mother about the baby.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure someone believes that, but it wouldn’t be me. You are lucky you’re tall enough that your pregnancy doesn’t show or she would have guessed by now anyway. You’re going to be one of those annoying women who doesn’t look pregnant until the last three days.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Stacey, you know it’s only going to get harder to tell her the longer you wait, right?”

Stacey nodded, although she couldn’t imagine it being any more difficult than it was right now.

“You also have to let Karl know,” Lexi added.

“I’ve told HR,” Stacey said defensively.

She’d already filled out all the required paperwork and requested her leave. The chain of command had been alerted. Which was not, she admitted to herself, the same as telling the head of her department.

Karl wasn’t exactly her boss—Stacey had autonomy in her department. As long as her team produced results, she was left to her own devices. Still, Karl was the closest thing to a manager she had, and at some point he needed to know. Just not right now.

“Did I mention Bay is pregnant?”

Lexi’s eyes widened. “Your new dog is pregnant?”

“Yes. Significantly so. I’m going to make an appointment to take her to the vet to get her checked out.” She frowned. “Thor’s been neutered, so he can’t be the father. I wonder who it was. Regardless, we’ll have puppies soon.”

“You’re pregnant. You haven’t told your mom or Karl, but you now have a dog who’s going to have puppies?”

Lexi’s voice was filled with incredulity and shock, which didn’t make any sense.

“Why are you saying it like that? What does one have to do with the other?”

“You’re going to have a baby,” Lexi said forcefully. “Your life is going to change in ways you can’t begin to understand. The last thing you need is puppies in the house.”

Stacey disagreed. Puppies were exactly what she needed. Being around Bay would allow her to observe motherhood in a safe and nonjudgmental environment. She planned to learn from the dog and use those lessons to help herself feel more connected to her own child.

“I think Bay and her puppies will be good for me,” she said.

“You’re the boss.” Lexi stood. “I’m going to finish proofing your article, then email it back to you. In the meantime, if you have any questions, remember I’ve had three. I know it all.”

“Thank you.”

Stacey planned to call on her assistant when the time came. It would be good to have an extra resource for those questions she couldn’t ask her mother or sister.

Too much of the literature she’d read mentioned hormones and instinct kicking in when the baby was born. While Stacey appreciated the power of innate intelligence, she was concerned she was somehow lacking vital pieces—especially when it came to being a mother. She’d never been normal before—why would that change now?

* * *

Becca walked slowly up the front steps to Mischief Bay High School when what she wanted to do was run or skip or even dance. Spring Break was over. Finally! She glanced around, wondering if anyone else was thinking the same thing, then sighed. Of course they weren’t. Everyone else had gone away for Spring Break or had fun with their friends. Everyone else had plans. She’d been the only one counting the days until she could get back to something close to a life.

She sat on the stone bench to the side of the huge open double doors and faked looking for something in her backpack. She needed a second to remember how to pretend all the things she was supposed to pretend. That she didn’t miss Kaylee every second of every day. Her best friend had moved to Boston at the end of last summer. After swearing she would never have another friend as amazing as Becca, after crying for weeks about how she would never fit in, Kaylee had settled into life in Boston easily and happily.

Between Instagram and Snapchat, Becca had a clear idea of exactly how perfect Kaylee’s new life was. She even had a boyfriend. Just like Jordan, Becca’s second-best friend. Becca, on the other hand, hadn’t even been kissed, not unless you counted a couple of stupid birthday parties with kissing games, which she didn’t.

She knew it was wrong to be jealous of Kaylee learning to sail and dating the younger brother of a naval cadet, and in a way, she wasn’t. She wanted Kaylee to be happy—it was just she also wanted to be missed as much as she was missing her friend. But the texts were getting less frequent and less personal. These days it seemed as if Kaylee was texting her grandmother rather than her friend.

As for Jordan... Becca shook her head. She had no idea what to do there. Jordan and her family had gone to Mexico for Spring Break. Back in November, Jordan had begged Becca to go with her. If she didn’t have her best friend along, she would die. Then, over Christmas, Jordan and Nathan had started dating and in the end, Jordan had taken Nathan instead.

There were other friends—she was part of a group, just like pretty much every other girl in high school. But those were just regular friends. Becca had never been good at being close with a crowd. She preferred one or two people in her life, which made her weird and left her sitting alone on this stupid bench, freakishly excited about school starting in twenty minutes.

She looked around at everyone talking about their vacations, listened to the laughing and teasing and felt...sad. No, she thought. Not sad, exactly. Small. She was so small and everyone else was big and sometimes she felt as if she were getting smaller and smaller and one day she would just disappear.

Her phone chirped.

Where r u? omg I need to c u now

Becca smiled as Jordan’s drama played out in text, even as she heard her friend’s voice in her head.

Muinoup, she texted back, abbreviating “meet you in our usual place.”

She started toward the science building where she and Jordan would meet up in the girls’ bathroom. No one hung out here before school started, which meant the bathrooms were usually empty, allowing plenty of privacy for whatever revelation Jordan might want to share.

Becca wanted to hear all about her friend’s vacation. Jordan had been oddly quiet during her trip, only posting a handful of Snapchat videos and three Instagram pics. Once Jordan was finished—because Jordan always had to go first—Becca wanted to talk about her new dog and her dad and his upcoming wedding that her mom still knew nothing about.

And the car. At some point Becca was going to have to come clean about the car.

She wondered how her mom would react when she found out her ex-husband was getting married. Would she be mad or would she cry? Becca didn’t know what she was supposed to say. She wasn’t happy about it, either. Her dad already pretty much ignored her. He’d promised to take her driving over Spring Break and that had never happened—not even on the long drive to Grass Valley. She needed her fifty supervised hours. Her mom always said she was too busy, and now her dad kept flaking out on her.

She ran up the steps to the science building, pushed open the door and turned into the girls’ bathroom. Jordan was already there, texting. She smiled when she saw Becca.

“Finally! My God, I’ve been waiting and waiting. Where were you?”

Becca automatically started checking stalls to make sure they were alone. Jordan shook her head.

“I did that already. You’ll never guess. Try. You won’t, but try.”

Becca looked at her friend. Jordan was one of those people who had been born beautiful. She had dark skin and hair, and big brown eyes. She was tall, thin and always knew what she was supposed to wear.

Becca and Kaylee had been friends since kindergarten. It had always been the two of them until junior high when they’d met Jordan. Then it had been the three of them. Kaylee had always been the pretty friend, but when Jordan came along, Kaylee had to give up her crown. As for Becca, well, she was funny and smart. As if that mattered.

“How was your vacation?” Becca asked.

“Perfect. Amazing. Life changing.” Jordan spun in a circle, then grinned. “Do I look different? I feel different. More mature, you know?”

Becca studied her. Jordan wore skinny jeans and a cute, cropped sweater. Her hair was long, hanging down to the middle of her back. She had about a dozen bangles on her wrists, one ear cuff and a tiny diamond nose stud.

“You look great,” Becca offered.

Jordan grabbed her arm and pulled her close. “You can’t tell anyone. You have to swear.”

“I never tell. You know that. What? Tell me.” But as she asked, she got a sinking feeling she already knew.

Jordan released her, then sucked in a breath. “Nathan and I had sex. Not just fooling around. We did it. All the way.” She paused. “He actually put it in!”

Becca didn’t know what to say. Sure, she’d known this could happen eventually. Jordan and Nathan had been together for a while now and they had other friends who were hooking up, but still. Sex? Yet one more way Becca was being left behind.

She felt stupid and ugly and unwanted. Like aliens had come to school and abducted everyone but her because why would she be interesting to experiment on?

Jordan looked expectant. Becca tried to think of the right question. She and Jordan had talked about what it would be like to do that of course. More since Jordan and Nathan got serious, but to have done it...

“What was it like? Where did you do it? Do your parents know?”

Jordan exhaled slowly, then smiled. “It was nice. I liked it better when we were just, you know, fooling around, but it was good, too. I feel so different.” She looked at herself in the mirror. “I keep waiting for my mom to figure it out but that would mean she noticed I was alive.” Jordan rolled her eyes. “You know how she is.”

Jordan’s mother was a successful lawyer and her dad was a judge. They both adored and ignored their only daughter.

“Anyway, on Tuesday night Nathan sneaked into my room. We were fooling around, and then he got really serious.” Jordan’s eyes filled with tears. “He said he loved me and I said I loved him, and then it just happened.”

How did something like that just happen? “Did it hurt?”

“Yes, but not for long. He was so sweet. He stayed the night.” Jordan turned back to her. “I hope you find somebody, Becca. A good guy who wants to have sex with you.”

Because the only ones lining up were bad guys?

Jordan smiled at her. “I want you to know that I’m still going to be friends with you. That you matter to me. Even though we’re in different places in our lives now.” The smile gentled and became annoying like a mom’s. “You’ll catch up eventually.”

Jordan glanced at her phone. “Okay, we have a few minutes and I know you want all the details. Some are kind of personal, but still...”

Irritation flared. “I had a Spring Break, too, Jordan. It wouldn’t kill you to ask about it.”

“All you did was stay home.” Jordan sighed. “Don’t be jealous, Becca. I’m not going to be sorry that I have Nathan and you don’t have anybody. You’re my best friend and he’s my boyfriend. You’re going to have to find a way to get along.”

“Why do I have to get along with him? Why doesn’t he have to get along with me?” Becca shook her head. “And that’s not the point. Nathan and I are fine together. This isn’t even about that.”

“You’re not making any sense. Are you mad at me because everything is so great for me?”

“No. Of course not. I’m sorry.”

The words were automatic, then annoying. Becca couldn’t figure out what she was thinking or why she was apologizing. Why did Jordan get to be so selfish and Becca was the bad guy? What was going on with everyone?

She picked up her backpack. “We should go. It’s time for class.”

Jordan walked to the door, then glanced back at her. “I wish you could trust me not to leave you behind, Becca.”

Becca thought longingly of the instruction book Great-Aunt Cheryl had left her. Maybe there was a command that would make Jazz bite Jordan. Not hard. Just enough to have her friend realize she was being the biggest bitch on the planet.

Chapter Five

HARPER COULDN’T SHAKE the feeling of being watched—probably because she was. Even though Thor and Jazz were lying down on huge beds that nearly filled her tiny office, their eyes were open and firmly fixed on her. As if waiting for something. She supposed some of her unease came from the fact that they were huge, muscular dogs trained to do God knew what. For all she knew, they were assessing her and if she showed weakness, they would simply kill her and hide the body, then pretend nothing had happened.

“I can’t believe I’m dog sitting,” she muttered, as she moved the picture around on her computer screen. She had a one-off job to provide online content for a new boutique by the boardwalk. The owner had called in a panic after realizing that just because her twelve-year-old could design a slick website, he wasn’t necessarily prepared to develop content. Harper was hoping the owner would be happy enough to keep her on to-do monthly updates.

She forced herself to concentrate, despite the sense of foreboding the two dogs engendered. She’d been expecting to have to deal with Jazz, but then Lucas had told her he was adding dog sitting to her duties. She would have refused only she not only needed the money—Jazz ate more than the average grizzly, and the food Great-Aunt Cheryl recommended cost as much as dinner for five at a decent restaurant—but she thought the two dogs might keep each other company, thereby freeing her from having to entertain Jazz.

She settled on a location for the pictures, cut and pasted the text, then studied the effect of the page. She’d added a section for featured clothes and had made the “style of the week” section bigger. Fifteen minutes of brainstorming over coffee had given her a list of suggestions she planned to share with the owner. One of them—a shop-your-closet feature—could give clients a reason to either come to the website or read the newsletter without feeling they were being sold to at every turn.

She got up to pour herself more coffee. Both Jazz and Thor raised their heads to watch her. She couldn’t tell if they were curious, still confused about their new location or assessing her viability. She paused to lightly pet each of them before going into the kitchen. Clicking nails told her she was not alone. So far the dogs had followed her from room to room, including trying to get into the bathroom with her. She’d insisted they wait in the hall, telling them that she wouldn’t watch them go and in return they couldn’t watch her.

Now she poured her coffee, then turned and saw they were both standing there, staring.

“I know you want something, I just have no idea what,” she admitted. “Do you want to go out?”

They both glanced at the back door, then at her. She sighed. She’d been very clear with Great-Aunt Cheryl. The last thing Harper wanted was one more life-form to take care of. She had enough on her plate—but had the woman listened? Okay, sure, technically, but not really. At the end of the day, Harper was still going to be a pet parent, whether she liked it or not. Becca had taken care of Jazz over the weekend, but the dog was still new to her. How long until her daughter was too busy or wasn’t home to handle things?

Harper’s cell rang. She pushed the button on her Bluetooth headset. “This is Harper.”

“Harper, it’s Cathy. Do you have a sec?”

“Sure.”

She carried her coffee back to her office, then quickly found Cathy’s file. The event planner used Harper to fill in when she needed an extra pair of creative hands. Harper could address two hundred envelopes in decorative calligraphy or paint a pin-the-tail-on-the-elephant poster or make custom napkin rings for a high-end dinner party.

“Okay, I talked to my clients, the ones hosting a fiftieth anniversary party for the parents. They’ve chosen the gift bag they want.”

“Great.” Harper sorted through the pictures she’d taken and slipped into the file. Next to each were the supplies needed, along with what they would cost and how long it took to assemble each bag.

She’d created three custom gift bags—not what went in them, just the bags themselves. Cathy had wanted them to be special, so they were all unique and not easy to put together.

“I have my information right here,” Harper said.

“They’ve picked number three. Now you said it was going to be twenty dollars a bag, but we both know that’s ridiculous. I told them I could get it for five dollars. I hope you’re okay with that.”

Harper stared at the picture, then scanned her notes. The bag was rose gold with a raffia handle. She’d applied delicate printed paper from France to the front of the bag, then edged it in tiny beads. After making by hand a flower done in shades of gold, she’d stenciled on the couple’s name and the date of their wedding, fifty years ago.

The price she’d quoted wasn’t just all the paper and trim, it was the time. Her heart sank. Cathy frequently tried to undercut Harper’s prices and most of the time Harper went along with it, but there was no way she could do the bag for that.

“The supplies cost more than five dollars,” Harper said, trying to sound firm. “It will take me thirty minutes to complete each one.”

“Can’t you work faster? My God, it’s a gift bag. Seriously, Harper, no one is going to pay twenty dollars for that.”

“Then they should pick one of the other ones.”

“They want the one they want.”

Harper’s stomach tightened. Irritation mingled with fear. She needed the work, but refused to take a loss. “The paper is imported...there are multiple layers. If you want something unique and handmade, that is the cost. I’m sorry, but my price is firm.”

“I’m sorry, too. I hate to lose you as a resource, but if you’re not going to work with me, then I don’t know if we can keep doing business together.”

The threat was like a kick to the stomach. Harper didn’t think she made any noise, but suddenly Jazz and Thor were both standing next to her, looking intent. Thor glanced toward the doorway and growled low in his throat.

She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had stood up for her like that. The unexpected support brought tears to her eyes, which was completely insane. She swallowed and petted both of them before clearing her throat.

For a second, she wondered if she could somehow buy the supplies cheaper. Maybe on eBay. No, she told herself. There was no time to search them out.

“I’m sorry, Cathy. That’s my price.”

“Then goodbye.”

The other woman hung up. Harper did her best to ignore the knot in her stomach. She drew in a breath. “I might have just lost a client. No problem for you, Thor. Your owner has plenty of money.”

She wasn’t exactly sure how Lucas had so much cash to throw around. He drove a very expensive two-seater Mercedes convertible and she didn’t think detectives made that much. Still, she wasn’t going to ask too many questions. He paid his monthly bill the same day he received it—she knew because she paid his bills for him and why, yes, she did pay herself first. It was one of the very few perks of her work.

She returned her attention to the boutique website and continued to add pictures and text until she was happy with the layout. She saved everything, then sent a note and the link to the owner, asking for feedback.

“That’s done,” she told the dogs, who were still watching her. She swiveled in her chair to face them. “This would be a lot easier if you’d just tell me what you need.”

Before they could answer, her phone rang again.

“This is Harper.”

“It’s Cathy. You’re being ridiculous, so you know, but you do good work and I want to see if we can find a point of compromise. How about ten dollars a bag and I’ll need them in three days?”

Harper held in a groan. There were forty bags, at about thirty minutes each, plus she had to go to three different stores to buy the supplies. That was twenty hours of work plus all the running around, for a grand total of four hundred dollars.

She didn’t dare do the math to figure out the pitiful sum she would be making by the hour, but if she stayed up most of tonight and tomorrow night, she could meet the deadline.

“Harper?”

“Fine. Ten dollars a bag.”

“Great. I’ll let them know and I’ll be by Thursday morning to pick them up. You’re the best, Harper. Thanks.”

Cathy hung up before Harper could say anything. Harper returned her attention to the dogs.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she muttered. “I’m letting her take advantage of me. That I’m probably making two dollars an hour on this job. Well, it’s not this job, is it? It’s all the other work she brings me.”

Jazz’s steady gaze never wavered. Harper sighed.

“You’re right. I let her take advantage of me and that doesn’t make any sense. I should be firm. I should tell her my price and stick to it. I’m training her to always undercut me. I get that.”

She was sure the dog had more to say, but before they could continue the conversation, the doorbell rang. Thor and Jazz immediately rose. Jazz looked at Thor, who gave a low warning bark.

“Yes,” Harper said, pushing past them. “I heard it, too, but thanks for mentioning it.”

The dogs kept pace with her, but didn’t walk ahead of her or run. When they reached the front door, they both sat and waited.

“I really need to read that instruction book Becca got,” Harper told them as she opened the door. “Yes? Can I help you?”

A tall, gangly twentysomething guy stood on her porch. He was blond and wore board shorts, a T-shirt and athletic shoes. The T-shirt had a drawing of a cartoon version of him on it, along with the phrase Leader of the Pack.

“Harper Szymanski?” the guy asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m Dwayne. I’m here to walk your dogs.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and glanced at it. “Thor and Jazz. It’s a daily service, which means Monday through Friday. I drive them to the beach and we walk along the boardwalk. It’ll take about ninety minutes.” Dwayne flashed her a smile. “Your husband paid for the top dog package. He must really like your dogs.”

Harper didn’t know what to say beyond, “He’s not my husband.” Because there was only one person who would have thought to arrange a dog-walking service. She would guess Lucas had done it for Thor, then added on Jazz. Damn the man for being thoughtful, good-looking and only interested in gorgeous bubbleheads in their twenties.

She held open the door for Dwayne to come inside. He saw Thor and Jazz and grinned.

“Oh, wow. Dobies. You guys are beautiful.” He held out his hand so they could sniff his fingers, then he squatted in front of them and said, “Shake.”

They both obliged.

“Lucas said you two were the bomb. He’s right. Super great manners.” He stood and looked at her. “I need their leashes.”

Harper got them from the bottom drawer in the table by the front door. She handed over a new roll of poop bags, hoping the dogs would do their thing somewhere other than her backyard.

“Thanks,” Dwayne said, snapping on the leashes. “We’ll be back in an hour and a half. Do you want me to run them?”

“That would be great.”

“Right? A tired dog is a happy dog. See ya.” He looked at the dogs. “Thor, Jazz, heel.”

The dogs stood and moved to his left side, Jazz taking the inside position. Dwayne walked them down the steps and out to his battered pickup. It was only after he’d driven away that Harper realized she probably should have checked with Lucas first. Just in case.

She quickly texted him, not sure when she would hear a response. Sometimes he was available, but a lot of the time, his phone was off. She supposed that came from being on the job catching bad guys or whatever it was he did in his day.

This time he answered her in a matter of seconds.

Are you concerned that someone cooked up an elaborate scheme to steal the dogs by pretending to be a dog walker?

Her lips twitched as she realized he kind of had a point.

I hadn’t thought of it that way. Thank you for including Jazz on the walk. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. I know I do.

Happy to help. You can deal with your guilt by baking me something.

You know I will.

That I do.

She was still smiling as she walked into her pantry and studied the shelf that held her baking supplies. Not cookies, she thought. They were too ordinary. Tarts. She would bake Lucas chocolate tarts. But first she would go get the supplies she needed for the gift bags, then drop off the T-shirts she was shipping to her comedian client, Misty, then swing by the post office to mail Lucas’s bills. Then she would bake tarts and tonight, while the world slept, she would make gift bags and curse her inability to stand up for herself when she knew she absolutely should.

* * *

Becca sat on the front porch step, her arm around Jazz. The dog was leaning heavily on her, her body providing comforting warmth.

“Are you still confused?” Becca asked the dog. “It’s been a few days now and we have a routine. I’m sorry I have to be gone for school, but you have Thor, right? I could talk to Aunt Stacey about Bay. Maybe you three could have a playdate.”

Jazz stretched out on the porch and rested her head on her paws, but even as she shifted positions, she still stayed close. Becca kept her arm around the dog, figuring they both needed the comfort.

Jazz wasn’t the only one confused—Becca was starting to think she would never know everything going on, even in her own life. She missed Kaylee so much—more so now that Jordan had gone totally drama queen about Nathan. Kaylee would have called her on her crap and told her to stop talking about herself. Kaylee would have made a joke and smiled at Becca and asked about Jazz because that was what Kaylee had always done. She’d been a buffer against darker forces.

But there wasn’t anything between Becca and Jordan, so Becca spent her day hearing about how amazing Nathan was and how he loved Jordan so much. Theirs was the greatest love ever and boyfriend-less Becca couldn’t possibly understand. Worse, Jordan chided her about being bitter and angry, which wasn’t true. Okay, not the bitter part. She didn’t care that Jordan had Nathan, but she was starting to get pissed about her friend’s attitude.

“Bay would never act like that to you,” Becca told the dog. “You have better taste in friends.”

For a second, she wished she could talk to her mom and tell her what was happening. Her mom could be dorky, but sometimes she had really good advice. Even if she didn’t, she used to always make Becca feel better. They would bake something or do a craft project.

Not anymore, she thought grimly. Even if she was willing to do something so childish, her mom wasn’t available. She was always too busy with her VA business.

Becca leaned over and kissed the top of Jazz’s head, then straightened. She was about to pull out her phone and check the time when it buzzed with a text. She looked at the screen, then caught her breath when she read the message.

I’m tied up at work, kiddo. Sorry. Let’s reschedule for some time next week.

Tears burned in her eyes. Becca blinked them away, telling herself to get over it. She knew she couldn’t depend on her dad and she was stupid if she thought he would ever change. He always had something else he had to be doing. As for getting tied up at work—that was a complete lie. He was a podiatrist, which meant scheduled appointments. He wasn’t a real doctor who had actual emergencies.

She shoved her phone back in her pocket and wiped her cheeks, just in case. Before she could scramble to her feet and escape to her room, Lucas pulled up and parked in front of her house.

He walked up the path and sat next to Jazz on the stairs, then patted the dog and smiled at her.

“Hey, kid.”

His words were way too close to what her dad called her. “I have a name,” she snapped.

“Yes, you do.” She waited for him to call her on her attitude, but instead he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. You’re here early.”

“I was in court for most of the day. It’s boring, but it’s a shorter day. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I said nothing was wrong.”

“You also lied. What is it?”

She stared at the top of Jazz’s head. “It’s just...” She swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “My dad blew me off again. I need fifty supervised hours to get my license. Mom’s too busy and my dad swore he would help, but he never shows up.” She rolled her eyes. “He said he was stuck at work. With what? An ingrown toenail? He doesn’t care about me anymore. I don’t think he ever did. He just walked out like I didn’t matter and now he won’t teach me to drive.”

It was so much more than she’d wanted to say, but there was no way to call back the words. She folded her arms across her chest and did her best to hold in the pain.

“Interesting,” Lucas said casually. “It’s a drag about your dad, but there’s time. It’s not like you need your license right away.”

She rocked forward and dropped her gaze to her Keds. “Yeah, well, Great-Aunt Cheryl didn’t just leave me the dogs. There’s a car.” She glanced at him and started talking quickly. “It’s a really good car. Ramon, her boyfriend, said it was in great condition and they’d always taken care of it. It’s safe and has air bags, and it’s not like my dad’s going to buy me a car and Mom sure can’t afford it.”

She sucked in a breath. “I don’t think Dad remembered to tell Mom because he was sick and she hasn’t said anything. The car is paid for. I know there’s going to be insurance and gas and stuff and I don’t know how I’m going to deal with that, but right now I need my license.”