Chances Are (20 page)

Dione smiled, infused by a new energy.

“Hi, Ms. Williams,” Kisha said, rushing past her. “Ms. Betsy wants all this stuff downstairs,” she breathlessly explained as she ran down the stairs, holding a box full of lights and Christmas balls.

Dione grinned. “Be careful running down those stairs, Kisha,” she warned, as she sidestepped her and went into the office. A fully decorated, miniature Christmas tree spun slowly on a pedestal atop Brenda's desk.

Brenda was busy stapling up a cutout of a sled on the bulletin board behind her desk.

“Where in the world did all of this stuff come from?”

Brenda turned. “Your daughter. She's been the commander in chief around here today.”

Dione smiled and shook her head. “Where is she?”

“Probably downstairs giving out more orders. She said she wanted this place to have some Christmas spirit by any means necessary,” she said, chuckling. “Even has Betsy hopping. And you know that takes some doing.”

“Let me go see what my child is up to.”

Dione went downstairs and stopped short at the door to the child-care room. It resembled a winter wonderland. There was a four-foot plastic blow-up of Santa in his sled and all his reindeer right in the middle of the floor. A Nativity scene sat in the corner illuminated by tiny white lights. Styrofoam snowballs hung from the ceiling, interspersed with rows of silver tinsel.

The toddlers ran around totally enchanted by all the sights, their faces beaming with delight as they squealed and pointed at the decorations.

Niyah was on her knees pulling out gift wrapped packages from shopping bags.

Betsy looked up from unraveling the string of lights as Dione walked fully into the room.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

Niyah turned and smiled at her mother. “You can start over there,” she said pointing to a stack of holiday cutouts to be put up on the walls.

Dione went over to the pile and began taping snowmen, and pictures of gift boxes on the wall, quietly humming “Silent Night,” as she worked.

Niyah turned to Betsy and they both smiled.

 

After an extensive search for just the right tree and a quick meal at McDonald's, Dione and Niyah finally went home. Too exhausted to do more than sit the tree in its stand, Niyah promised that after a good night's sleep she would have their place in shape the following evening. Dione made her promise to wait until she got home.

“I want us to do it together.”

“Like always.”

“Yes. Like always.”

She kissed her mother's cheek. “Good night.”

“Good night, sweetheart.”

Niyah dragged herself into her room and shut the door. Shortly after she heard her mother's bedroom door close and then the sound of the shower followed.

Niyah thought about what she'd done—the lines she'd crossed. But her mother would just have to forgive her. It was for her own good. Maybe now the ghosts that haunted her mother would be set free. It was time that her mother realized that she was a big girl now and although she understood her mother's reason for wanting to protect her, it was time she realized that it was okay to let go. And maybe when everything was said and done, her mother could finally accept the happiness that she deserved.

But what if it backfired?

Her stomach tensed. It couldn't. It just couldn't.

O
n the morning of Christmas Eve the aromas of baking, basting, roasting and boiling filled the building, rising up from the kitchen in the basement.

Everyone was up bright and early, including Gina who was determined to cook her first turkey, with Betsy's supervision. Denise had been delegated to supervise the children since everyone knew her cooking skills were suspect. Her smoke alarm still went off religiously at least once per week.

Kisha was in charge of kneading the dough for the half dozen pies they were set to bake and Niyah was more than happy to help with that chore. Even Theresa, who had always been resistant to joining in with any group activity, was busy cutting up cheese for the pans of macaroni.

Brenda was busy pouring seltzer into the fruit punch bowls and supervising some of the other girls who were tossing salads and cutting up the collards. Dione was arranging the last of the gifts beneath the tree, which the whole house had spent half the night before decorating.

Dione looked around, a mixture of joy and melancholy volleying for position. Seeing the girls, hearing their laughter and being witness to the transformation of many of them warmed her. Yet, there was still something missing. For all that she tried to accomplish, she still felt an emptiness. Not so much because there was always more she could do—better, but the need that she longed to be fulfilled in her heart.

Soon, as Betsy said, Niyah would be truly off on her own. Since she'd been home she talked more and more about Neal and she heard the whispered conversations on the phone and the soft laughter. Although Neal may not be “the one” it would be soon.

She looked around watching the children, and their mothers. Soon they all would be gone as well, taking with them whatever she was able to give, only to be replaced by more like them. As long as she was able to keep Chances Are open. And she believed she would.

But where would she be in five, ten years? Who would she come home to at the end of the day?

 

With the cooking all but done and her mother safely upstairs with Brenda and out of the way, Niyah gathered the girls together in the kitchen.

“Now, everybody knows what they're supposed to do, right?” Niyah asked.

A chorus of “yes” and head nodding went around the space.

“She still doesn't know anything does she?” Kisha asked.

“Nope. It's a surprise.”

“They putting us on tape again?” Theresa quizzed.

“Yes. This is the last of it,” Betsy responded. “So try to be on your best behavior.”

A round of grumbles bounced around.

“They should be here soon,” Niyah said, and hoped that Garrett would have a change of heart and show up. “So let's start putting the food out on the table and getting the chairs set up.”

One by one they began to disperse, leaving Niyah and Betsy alone.

“Did you hear from him?” Betsy asked.

Niyah shook her head.

“Well, if it's meant to be, it will, chile. Nothing more you can do.” She patted Niyah's cheek.

 

“Looks like we're going to have some kind of feast, Dee. Those girls really did a great job,” Brenda said.

“They certainly did.” She heard a car pull to a stop out front, and peeked out the window. Her heart knocked. It was the Ford Explorer.

Dione turned away, heat spread through her and her head began to pound. She'd looked forward to and dreaded this day. She hadn't spoken to him in weeks and didn't know how he would react when he saw her again. She knew she'd hurt him, and she needed to let him know how sorry she was about how poorly she'd handled things—that it wasn't his fault. She needed to do that, for herself and for Garrett.

The front doorbell rang. She went to open it, suddenly needing to see him.

Jason walked in, followed by Najashi.

“Hi, Merry Christmas,” Dione greeted, stepping aside to let them in. She looked over Najashi's shoulder, thinking Garrett must be pulling up the rear.

“Same to you,” Jason said.

“Happy holidays,” Najashi said.

“I just need to go and get the rest of the equipment,” Jason said, putting down a camera.

“It's just the two of you?” Dione asked, her heart thundering.

“Yep. Gary said he had things to do today and for us to finish up.”

“Mmm. Something sure smells good,” Najashi commented, picking up the camera. “Okay if I go down and start setting up?”

“Sure,” Dione answered absently. “And of course you're both welcome to join us for dinner.”

“Thanks,” they chorused.

Dione walked back into the office, forcing a smile onto her face. “They're going to get set up,” she said to Brenda.

“I'm going to go down and give Niyah and Betsy a hand with those girls and the kids so we can start serving dinner.”

“Okay. I'll be down in a minute.”

When Brenda left the room, Dione took a seat at her desk. The Rolodex was open to the Ls. There were Garrett's numbers. She looked at the phone, thought about calling him and what she would say. But she knew if she sat there long enough she'd think of a million reasons why she shouldn't. She started to pick it up just as the doorbell rang.

It was Jason with the rest of the equipment. She got up to answer the door.

Maybe it was best to just leave it alone, she decided as she followed Jason downstairs.

 

Dinner was everywhere. Literally. Especially all over the faces and hands of the children, who relished in making a supreme mess. All the mothers and the staff pitched in to clean up. And every moment was captured on tape.

“Looks like everyone had a good time,” Betsy said dumping empty paper plates in the kitchen garbage bin.

“They sure did,” Niyah chuckled. “Those girls can burn.”

“Humph. Couldn't say as much when they first got here.”

“A lot of them have come a long way.”

“Hmm.”

“Where's Brenda?”

“I sent her upstairs to keep a look out. Soon as they get here, we can get started.”

“Hope it's soon. I'm getting nervous.”

Betsy eyed her. “Nervous about what, chile? What you got cooking up your sleeve?”

“You'll see.”

“What are you two yapping about?” Dione asked, walking into the kitchen with another stack of paper plates and empty cups.

“Nothing,” they said in unison.

Dione looked at them suspiciously. “Well these kids are getting tired. I thought we could open the gifts now.”

“That could wait a minute, we have—” She looked over her mother's head to see Brenda giving her a thumbs-up sign.

Dione turned and Brenda plastered an engaging grin on her face.

“What is going on?”

“Why don't you just go up front and relax,” Betsy instructed. “We have everything under control.”

“That's what I'm afraid of.” She walked out, totally undone.

 

Moments later, Niyah and Betsy walked into the room. Niyah called for everyone's attention.

“If everyone could take a seat, we can get started with the program.”

All the girls started giggling and whispering, taking surreptitious glances in Dione's direction, as they took seats around the room.

Program? Something was definitely up,
Dione mused, checking the sneaky looking expression on everyone's face.

Betsy walked over to Dione. “Come sit next to me, chile.”

“Betsy, what in the world is going on?” she whispered. “What program?”

“Just hush and enjoy. It's something everyone pitched in to do.”

Brenda dimmed the lights from the back of the room.

Niyah cleared her throat. “Before we get started, I just want to thank everyone for all their help and cooperation in putting this evening together.” She looked in her mother's direction. “Ma, for the past five years you've devoted your time, energy and love to Chances Are and all the young women and their children who have been lucky enough to find refuge here. So, tonight is your night. A chance to say thank you for all that you've done.”

Dione began to feel shaky all over. Her heart was racing and a knot caught in her throat. She bit down on her bottom lip as Betsy squeezed her hand, just as Terri tiptoed in and took a seat next to Dione. She kissed her cheek and beamed.

“You were in on this, too?” Dione hissed through her teeth.

“Can't have a this-is-your-life party without me,” she teased.

“A few of the girls—current, and from the past—have some things they want to share,” Niyah continued. “Gina, you want to come up?”

Gina took a breath, eased by some of the girls and went up front. She looked out into the audience. “Ms. Dione, when I first got here, I was scared. Scared that I would never be nothing more than a statistic. A seventeen-year-old with a baby and no education. I never had anyone who believed in me, or made me feel that I could ever be more than I was, until I came here and met you.” She looked down at her shoes, then out at Dione. “At first all those mornings when you used to sneak up to my room and make sure I got up to go to school, I would get pissed—I mean annoyed,” she grinned. “I thought you were just being a pain. But then I started liking my classes and I made friends and started getting good grades again. And even though I gave you and Ms. Betsy a hard time, you never gave up on me.” She grinned broadly, her eyes glistening. “Well, I got my GED, Ms. Dione! I got it.” She pulled out the treasured piece of paper from her shirt pocket and held it up.

The whole room erupted in applause and rounds of “You go girl!”

Dione stood up as Gina walked away from the front and over to her. Dione embraced her, holding her tight, feeling Gina's tiny body shake with her tears. “Congratulations,” she whispered against her veil of braids, sniffing back her own tears. “I knew you could do it.”

“Thank you, Ms. Dione,” she mumbled. “For everything.” She stepped back and took her seat as Niyah came back up front.

“Ma, I used to watch you come home at night, sometimes elated because of some success of one of the girls or when one of the babies took their first step, and sometimes I would see the sadness in your eyes when you thought you'd tried as hard as you could to reach one of them and believed that you hadn't. Most of you don't know these two young ladies. They were here when the house first opened and they gave my mother and the whole staff a rough time. But I think they have something they want to say. Lynn and Pauline.”

Everyone turned when the two well-dressed young women came through the door and walked up front.

“Oh my God,” Dione whispered to Betsy. “Lynn and Pauline. I don't believe it. I haven't heard from them since they left.”

Betsy patted her hand.

Dione had worried long and hard about Pauline and Lynn. They were two of the most difficult residents she'd ever dealt with. All of her training and education had not prepared her for their anger and resentment toward everyone and everything that tried to come near them. Both of them had been abused. Lynn by her stepfather, Pauline by her drug-addicted mother. They'd both spent the better part of their youth moving from one group home or foster-care setting to another, until they were finally referred to Chances by a social worker who'd heard of the privately-run facility.

After the first month of their arrival, Dione had begun to have serious doubts about the effectiveness of Chances and that maybe she couldn't have made a difference. But it seemed as though the more those two resisted her help, the more determined she became to succeed.

Looking at them now, listening to their success, she knew her efforts and her faith had not been in vain.

“I don't know how many times Ms. Dione needed to put us out and didn't,” Lynn was saying, her nut-brown face having softened from the hard lines it once held since she'd left nearly four years earlier. “We tried to do everything we could to break every rule of the house, from staying out overnight, to cussing the staff out. But she never gave up on us.” Lynn turned to Pauline.

“Every day she made sure we got up to go to school. Checked on us when our kids were sick. She even helped me study for a test after I told her just what she could do with her stupid housing preparation class,” Pauline admitted with a crooked smile. “I'd been kicked out of so many places by the time I'd gotten to Chances Are, I just figured it would only be a matter of time before I got thrown out of here, too. But it never happened. And I never got the chance to say thank you for that, Ms. Dione. Thank you. I'm working now at a law firm, of all places,” she said laughing. “And—” She held up her left hand. “I'm engaged.”

Everyone started clapping and oohing and ahhing at Pauline's ring.