Free Chances Are by Donna Hill Page A

Don’t get bent out of shape. But he is a good-looking brother. I know I wouldn’t mind sitting across a table from him.” She turned to her computer and began typing.
    Dione hesitated a moment, debating whether to open up the subject, then decided; why not?
    â€œBrenda?”
    â€œHmm?”
    â€œWhat are your impressions of him?”
    Brenda swiveled in her chair in Dione’s direction. “Honestly?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œWell—” She blew out a breath. “Besides being drop-dead fine, I think he has a chip on his shoulder and some serious issues about teen mothers. My only concern is how that is going to affect his slant on our program.”
    Dione nodded. “I have the same feeling,” she replied thoughtfully.
    â€œHey, if anybody can convert him, you can.”
    â€œThat remains to be seen. But it’s definitely my intention.”
    â€œI was going to hold this tidbit of information, but you may as well know. I got a call this morning from the Slattery Foundation.”
    Dione could tell she didn’t want to hear what Brenda had to say. “Tell me why they don’t want to give us any funding,” she said already resigned to the outcome.
    â€œThe contribution’s chairwoman said that the Foundation wants to move away from programs that intentionally or inadvertently support dependency.”
    â€œSupport dependency! How can they say that? Our entire goal is to get these girls self-sufficient so they won’t be dependent on a system that’s set up for them to fail. Brenda the narrow-mindedness just turns my stomach.” Her face twisted in anger.
    â€œI know. I felt like jumping through the phone and smacking some sense into her.”
    Dione could have laughed if she wasn’t so angry. She could just about see Brenda doing something like that. “I guess this is even more reason to make this thing work.”
    â€œFor sure.”
    Dione ran her fingers through her hair, which she’d decided to wear down today instead of in her standard ponytail. “I’ll be downstairs. Any other developments I need to know about before I bury myself in paperwork?”
    Brenda pulled out the sheet from the previous night’s activities that Betsy completed. “Nothing major. Gina’s baby was running a slight fever. She’s taking her to the doctor today. I think she’s teething, personally. Umm, Theresa set off the smoke detector again. One of these days that girl is going to figure out that the smoke detector is not a food timer.” They both laughed. “Denise lost her front door key. I’ll see about having it replaced. That’s about it.”
    â€œOkay. Just hold off on replacing Denise’s key. This is the second one she’s lost in less than a month.”
    â€œWill do,” Brenda said, amazed at the tiny details that Dione always remembered no matter how many really important things she had to deal with.
    â€œI’ll be downstairs.”
    Â 
    Dione spent the better part of the morning reviewing the pit Chances Are was sinking into. She felt like the unfortunate captain of the Titanic. Disaster everywhere, help on the horizon but not close enough. Abandon ship, or wait to be rescued?
    She turned on her computer and pulled up the database of funders, seeing whom she may have missed, knowing she hadn’t missed anyone.
    There had to be a better way, she mused. The hoops that organizations had to go through to receive funding in order to survive, in order to provide basic human services was sadistic. Yet the government wouldn’t bat an eye to pay thousands of dollars for a toilet seat, or a screw. There was something obscene about that.
    She stared at the list of names and addresses projected against the screen. Christmas was less than three months away. A difficult time for all of them because of their situations. She always tried to make the holidays extra special