Chances Are Read Online Free PDF

tall and thin, standing next to the tiny, curvaceous Marie Delacroix. It was almost comical.
    And there was a calmness about her mother, as if she'd accepted her fate without a fight. In that way mother and daughter were most unalike—Veronique accepted nothing as fate, finding the fight one of life's most exhilarating gifts.
    Veronique's smile faded. Had her father been like herself, a daredevil and a gambler, unconcerned with appearances or conventions? She'd probably never know.
    "Maman," Veronique called softly, stepping forward.
    Marie glanced up in surprise, her eyes warmed when she saw her daughter. "Veronique. How nice."
    Veronique bent and brushed her lips against her mother's cheek; she smelled of Shalimar, and a wave of tenderness washed over Veronique. Her mother had used that scent for as long as she could remember. "You're looking well."
    "Thank you. Is Winnie bringing you a tea?"
    "Yes." Veronique sank onto the wrought-iron chair across from her mother.
    Marie's gaze swept over her daughter. "Really, Veronique, the way you're dressed." Her tone gently reproached.
    Veronique took a deep breath and counted to ten. When she trusted her voice, she said, "I came right from work. You know my job requires clothes like these."
    "But still... ah, here's Winnie with your tea."
    They were silent as the woman deposited the glass and a plate of sugar cookies. Veronique smiled a thank you; Winnie's sugar cookies were one of her favorite treats. When they were once again alone, Veronique attempted a change of topic. "How's your work for the symphony going?" She eyed the plate, then reached for a cookie.
    "You've been doing that since you were a child," Marie said, her tone stern but her expression amused. "And it's quite rude."
    "What?" Veronique asked, nibbling on the brown edge of the cookie. "Changing the subject?"
    "Taking the biggest cookie before anyone else has a chance."
    Veronique laughed. "Someone has to. Besides, it may be rude, but it's honest."
    Marie hid a smile by taking a sip of tea, then dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "Now, as I was saying, about those clothes..."
    Veronique silently groaned. Her mother, that slip of Southern gentility, could be a tenacious as a bulldog with a rib bone when she wanted something. And this was a familiar theme. "Maman, these clothes are comfortable to work in. Besides, I like them."
    Marie brushed some sugar from the edge of the table, searching for just the right words. "But they're so—"
    "Ugly?" Veronique inserted dryly.
    Her mother's sigh was heartfelt. "You're really quite lovely, Veronique. In fact, there are times I look at you and..." Her voice trailed off, and she looked away.
    See your father. The unspoken words hovered in the air between them. Veronique's chest tightened. She'd often wondered if her father had had the same chiseled features as herself, the same high cheekbones and arching eyebrows, the same small straight nose and widely spaced almond-shaped eyes. As she didn't resemble any of the Delacroixs, she must look like his family. But guessing and being certain were two very different things, and Veronique pushed away the hollowness that never completely left her.
    After a moment she touched her mother's hand. "What are you reading?"
    "Changing the subject again, Veronique?" Marie asked softly, her expression grateful.
    Veronique smiled. "Yes, Maman."
    Marie picked up the magazine and opened it. "I was reading the wedding announcements. The Bergeron boy was just married. It was quite a lavish party." She smiled, a faraway look in her eyes. "I'd always hoped you would..." She didn't finish the thought; her cheeks pinkened.
    "What?" Veronique prompted. She glanced down at the magazine, then back to her mother in surprise. "You always hoped I'd marry someone like Robert Bergeron and have a splashy society wedding? That's it, isn't it?"
    "Yes." Her mother's eyes and voice were filled with longing. "Is it so wrong to wish for you what I threw away?"
    Veronique