Chances Are by Donna Hill Read Free Book Online Page B

She shuffled some papers on the desk. “While I was there they were shooting a public service announcement for another organization. Mr. Lawrence said they work pretty well in getting attention. So I thought that we could do one and give it to my friend Terri, let her work up a promotional package for us.”
    â€œSounds good to me. But what about the documentary?”
    Dione explained about the length of time it would take to complete and her anxiety about not having enough time to resubmit the proposals.
    Brenda blew out a breath and slowly shook her head of spiral curls. “If it’s not one thing it’s something else. But at least we’ll have a shot with this public service thing.”
    â€œThat’s what I’m hoping.”
    Brenda looked at Dione’s profile for a long moment, assessing the faraway look in her expression. Although they weren’t what you would call best friends, and didn’t share a lot of personal secrets, she felt she knew Dione well enough to sense when something was troubling her. But Dione had always been so self-contained, in control and focused. She seemed to have her life totally together. And even in the three years that she’d been working at Chances Are, Dione never shared her life story or why she decided to open the house. No more had ever been said beyond, “It’s something I felt compelled to do. Someone had to do it.”
    Dione Williams was a private person. No one seemed to really know what drove her. What gave her the determination and drive. Maybe that’s just the way she was. But Brenda had serious doubts that it was that simple. Something pushed Dione Williams. Whatever it was, it had one helluva hold on her.
    â€œWhat time is this guy coming?”
    â€œTen.” She fidgeted with the collar of her camel-colored silk blouse, then suddenly stood. “I’m going to check with Betsy. See how she’s making out with the girls. It’s time for day care to open.”
    Brenda watched her walk out and wondered again what was stirring beneath the cool-watered surface.
    For the third time that morning, Dione inspected her building from top to bottom, finally stopping in the basement where day care was in full swing. Sesame Street was playing from the small, portable television, the soft scent of baby powder and sweet formula filled the air.
    Betsy looked up from changing the diaper of one of the toddlers, seeing Dione standing in the doorway. Betsy set the baby boy down on the floor, gave him a light tap on his bottom and crossed the pale blue floor. She stopped directly in front of Dione, the top of her graying head just reaching Dione’s chin. She stroked her cheek.
    â€œWhat’s wrong, chile? You got that haunted look in your eyes like when you was worrying over one thing or the other. Or about that baby girl of yours.”
    Dione forced a tight-lipped smile. “Just want to make sure everything is okay.” She looked over Betsy’s head, her eyes scanning the room.
    â€œOf course everything is okay. Now, you want to tell me what’s really bothering you, Dione Williams?”
    Dione met Betsy’s eyes. “I don’t want them to find any fault. We need this thing to work Betsy.” The little Betsy did know about their situation was enough. She didn’t want to tell her just how desperate things were. That she hadn’t taken a paycheck in more than a month, that she stayed up nights working and reworking the figures to make sure that the bills and the staff were paid, that the politicians were no longer interested in the plight of homeless young mothers, they had new agendas. How could she tell this to the woman whom she’d silently pledged to take care of?
    â€œOf course it will. You just need to have a little faith.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind. Did you make out okay with Kisha and Theresa?”
    Betsy waved her hand in dismissal. “Those two were so