Alicia sat in her office contemplating a call to Freddy Patterson, her first date as an escort. She picked up the phone and dialed his number.
“Hi, Freddy,” she said when he answered. “How did your date with Debbi Williams go last evening?”
“She’s a lovely young lady, Alicia, but no one compares to you. You broke my heart when you retired, and you have to make it up to me. I have everything prepared for our nuptials. I only need you to say yes.”
“You are a silver-tongued devil. If ever I decide to tie the knot, you’re the first on my list.” Alicia laughed. “Listen, Freddy, I have another reason for calling. I’m beginning a scholarship fund in honor of Lillian Pettigrew. We need to support the young women at Lil’s Place who want to go to school and expand their possibilities. You know what can happen. When we get old and gray, you forever-youthful men lose all interest in us. We need to be prepared for other careers. Plus, I get girls you never even see coming through these doors who need help. Your tax-deductible donation would be of great assistance to the cause. Can I count on you?”
“You could never be too old and gray for me, Alicia. What kind of support are you looking for?”
“Ten thousand dollars could provide up to twenty-five hundred per year for four years to one of our women, all devoted to tuition, fees, and books for the school and program of her choice. I’ve raised around twenty thousand dollars so far, and I’m looking to sponsor four people, at least for now.”
“Which girls?”
“Cathy Florentino, Celia Cole, Danielle Nix, and a relative newcomer, Simone Mercier. Each will be held accountable for her progress, and she must maintain a minimum C average. Otherwise the support will be withdrawn and will go to someone else.”
“Sounds good, Alicia, but cash is a little tight at the moment. Let me pledge ten, and I’ll pay it in installments of twenty-five hundred per year. I’ll send over the first check in a few days.”
“Wonderful!”
“Say, remember Hugh Blackmon and John Jensen, the two investment bankers you met on our first date? Those guys have made a ton of money brokering deals over the last few years, and their firm supports this kind of stuff all the time. I’ll give them a call and set something up. Ask for at least fifty, and don’t take no for an answer. They may hem and haw, but they’ll come through if you just stay after them.”
“Freddy, you’re the greatest. How about this? We’ll name your donation the Fred Patterson Scholarship in honor of Lillian Pettigrew.”
“I love the way that sounds, Alicia, and I’m proud of what you’re doing. If this thing takes off, you can count on me for more support down the line. In a couple of years, I’ll be selling my business. My cash position should improve by then.”
“If you have time for lunch after Tuesday, pick a day and a spot. It’s on me. And Freddy, thanks for always being such a gentlemen. You’ve treated those of us who’ve had the pleasure of your company very well over the years. You should know that everyone at Lil’s Place holds you in the highest esteem.”
“Okay, Alicia, you can stop with the butter now. I’ve pledged, and having lunch with you on Wednesday makes it all worthwhile.”
Alicia grinned as she ended the call. She turned to her new desktop computer and started refining a prospectus of her Ph.D. dissertation. She heard the doorbell chime but ignored it, concentrating on her work. Then she heard the front door slam and a cry for help from Simone.
Alicia burst out of the office into the entryway. She found a thin woman in her mid-to-late twenties with scraggly blond hair, one arm in a sling. A swollen left eye disfigured her face and gave the surrounding pale-white skin an emerging color of dark blue. A fair-skinned black girl with bushy brown hair, about four, clung to one of her legs as though attempting to shield the woman from Alicia and Simone.
“Oh, no,” moaned Alicia. She reached for the woman, wrapping an arm around her as she led her and the girl into Lil’s Place. The woman pressed her head into Alicia’s chest, bursting into tears.
“Go get Mrs. Jefferson and Celia,” said Alicia to Simone as the woman and the child entered her office. “And ask Danielle to bring down one of her friends.”
“One of her dolls?” mouthed Simone. Alicia nodded and turned back to the woman. “What’s your name?”
“Karen, Karen Abernathy,” she said, wiping away tears with her good arm.
“You’re in a sling. Have you already been to Emergency?”
“Yeah, I had an X-ray and it’s okay, just sore,” said Karen, wincing. “They gave me an ice pack for my eye. They told me Stratton just closed. Said you didn’t take children, but to try anyway.”
“I’m surprised they released you in your condition.”
Celia and Mrs. Jefferson flew into the office, Danielle right behind them with a doll in her hand. As Mrs. Jefferson inspected Karen’s eye, Danielle threw a hand over her mouth. She took a deep breath, eyeing the young girl. “Hi, honey, my name is Danielle. What’s yours?”
“Macy,” said the girl, staring shyly at the doll.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” said Danielle, bringing the doll to her chest. “See my best friend? Her name is Macy, too, and she’s almost as pretty as you. Come on, I want you to meet my other friends.”
Macy looked at her mother, who signaled her approval.
“We’re going to have us a good old time,” said Danielle, winking at Macy and grabbing her by the hand. Danielle closed the door behind her as she led Macy away.
“Girl, let me get you some raw steak,” said Mrs. Jefferson. “We’ll have that eye back to normal in no time. How’s your arm?”
“Sore.”
“Did he punch you in the arm or push you into something?” asked Mrs. Jefferson.
“The bastard knocked me into the corner of a wall.”
“I’m gonna get some ice for that, then some heat,” Mrs. Jefferson told her, pointing toward the kitchen. “She’ll be fine, Licia, once I’m finished with her.” Mrs. Jefferson sidestepped through the door. “Eating too much of my own cooking,” she added as she huffed down the hall.
“Karen, now that we’re alone,” said Celia, “perhaps you can tell us what happened.”
“My boyfriend is the jealous type, and we got started again.”
“So this has happened before?”
“Yeah, never this bad, though. This is the third time in the past two years.”
“What’s his name?” asked Alicia.
“Tyrone Lewicki. But I already told the police in Emergency I’m not going to press charges.”
“Karen, I assume you have no money,” said Alicia.
“He took my purse. I don’t have my wallet, keys, clothes, nothing. I just grabbed Macy and got the hell out of the house. I’m lucky to be here. Had to hitch a ride.”
Mrs. Jefferson hustled back in and applied a cut of meat over Karen’s eye. “Hold this,” she instructed. Then she stuck an ice pack on the inside of Karen’s sling, wrapping it around her arm.
“We’re all full downstairs,” said Alicia to Mrs. Jefferson. “I want to put two cots in your kitchen.”
“Give Karen and Macy my room,” said Celia. “Danielle and I will stay in the kitchen.”
“In that case,” said Alicia, “you and Danielle can sleep with me. Karen, are you sure you don’t want to file charges against Tyrone?”
“I can’t do that. He has a little boy about Macy’s age who lives with us. Besides, it’s partly my fault. My boss took me to lunch the other day. No big deal, but I should have known better. Tyrone called me while we were out. When I called him back, he started asking questions. He knows when I’m lying, so I told the truth. Then he came up to the office and made a scene. Afterwards, my boss said I had to go.”
“Let’s get you settled in,” said Alicia, “and I want you to spend some time with Celia. We’ll talk some more later.”
A few days after Karen’s arrival, Alicia called her back to the office and invited Celia to join them.
“The eye looks a little better,” said Alicia as Karen took a seat, “and I see the sling is gone.”
Karen moved her arm in a circle and forced a timid smile.
“How is Macy?” asked Alicia.
“She’s fallen in love with Danielle. Everyone has been so nice, so supportive, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the help. I have no family here, no place to go.”
“So tell me,” said Alicia, “Tyrone is Macy’s father?”
“No. Tyrone is white, too.”
“How does Macy get along with him?” asked Celia.
“She’s afraid of him. He’s distant with her because she’s half black, but he won’t admit it. Deep down, I think he’s pissed because I had a relationship with a black man.”
“There’s a destructive cycle of violence in your situation with Tyrone,” said Celia. “Don’t you think it’s time to break that cycle, if not for you then for Macy? In the long run it’s going to damage her. I know from personal experience.”
“How could I know it would come to this?” said Karen. “In hindsight, you could say the signs were there and I should have seen them, but it’s not that easy, especially when you love someone and he’s made promises.”
“Celia and I are the last people in the world to pass judgment,” said Alicia, “but the point is that we can allow the past to be the future, or we can learn from the past and make changes.”
“And what am I supposed to do when I leave him? I just lost my job. I have no place to go. And when it comes to men, I’m not pretty like you guys, with curves in all the right places. My options are limited, especially with how Macy looks.”
“What do you mean?” asked Alicia.
“Okay, I’m going to be real candid. Some black men are all over me when they see me with Macy because they assume I’m an easy lay for them. They think I must love brothers, and they want to play on that. White men see me with Macy and think I’m tainted, so I’m off-limits for them. Don’t get me wrong. I love my daughter to death, and I would never trade her for a man, but maybe you can understand my problem. The truth is that I don’t care about race. I just want to be loved, and I know Ty loves me. Otherwise, why would he get so jealous?”
Alicia, who had been leaning forward in her seat, sat back. “From the way you looked coming in here, and your description of the dispute, I suspect you’re dealing with the wrong kind of love. Please don’t confuse love for a possession with love for a person.”
“Teach, sister!” said Celia, then turned to their guest. “Karen, I have a question for you. Have you ever noticed how male dogs constantly raise their hind legs, peeing all over the place? They mark their territory, serving notice on other dogs to stay away. That is what Tyrone has done with you. And once a man hits a woman, it becomes easier for him to hit her again, because now he’s taken the next step—he’s shit on her.”
Karen looked away, frowning.
“Just think about it,” said Alicia, “and we’ll talk again to see where you’re headed. In the meantime, what kind of work do you do?”
“I’ve been a legal secretary for about five years now, in litigation.”
“Then you know all the forms and procedures?”
“Like I know the back of my hand, both federal and state.”
“And what did your last job pay you?”
“Five hundred a week.”
“Good,” said Alicia. “We’ll talk again in a few days.”
After Karen left the room, Alicia returned to her prospectus. Her new computer had made the revision process so much easier, which brought back memories of the old days and an embarrassing conversation with her father.
Alicia had been working on a tenth-grade project, pecking away on a manual typewriter her father kept at home. Keys were getting stuck against the ribbon because she was typing too fast, pressing down on one letter nearly as she pressed the last.
“Alicia, slow down,” her father said, “before you completely annihilate that thing.”
“But, Daddy, it’s due tomorrow,” protested Alicia.
Her father peered over her shoulder. “You have some misspelled words, and you’re missing some commas.”
Alicia became flustered. “As long as I hand it in on time, Mr. Thompson doesn’t care. I’ll get an A irregardless.”
“Never say irregardless when regardless will do. And why will you get an A?”
Alicia knew she had to answer. “I can tell he likes me,” she said.
“Why does he like you? Tell me the truth, Alicia.”
“I don’t know for sure. I’m the same with him as I am with the others, but he’s my only male teacher. He sometimes stares.”
“Well, I’m going to have a talk with this Mr. Thompson. Among other things, I’m going to make sure he is grading you strictly on your academic merits, and not because of the way you look. Never, ever rely on your looks, Alicia. That will always come back to haunt you. In order to make it in this world, you have to perform. Performance earns respect and opens doors. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Good. Now start over and do it right. When you’re finished, I want to read the whole thing.”
Alicia’s mind drifted back to the present and she smiled.
A few days later, Karen strolled into the office with Celia and Danielle. Karen’s face had improved dramatically.
“So, how are we doing?” asked Alicia.
“Much better, thanks, and my daughter has not been this happy in a long time. I didn’t realize how unsafe she’d felt with Tyrone. I didn’t like what you and Celia said the other day, but now I know I needed to hear it. I’ve reached a decision. I want to get away from Ty and move on, but I also need my things, and I’m afraid to go back. I know he’s going to try to sweet-talk me into staying and promise never to hit me again, just like before. And if I insist on leaving, he’s going to start something. I don’t want any trouble. I just want to be left alone.”
“What’s his address, and when is he normally home?” asked Alicia.
Karen provided the information, indicating that Tyrone normally worked evenings and slept during the day.
“Does he have any weapons?”
“As far as I know, only his fists.”
“Describe him for me.”
“Long blond hair, about five foot eight, a hundred forty pounds.”
Alicia dialed the telephone. “Shelby, I have a job for you,” she said. “I have a woman here, Karen Abernathy, who’s been beaten by her boyfriend, Tyrone Lewicki. She needs her things from their place. Tyrone has a young child with him, and the situation has to be handled delicately.”
“No problem, Alicia,” said Shelby. “Tell me what I need to know.”
“Tyrone is a small guy, but I want you to take your man Tobi with you. Go during the day, either before or after Tobi’s shift, so he’s wearing his police uniform. I’ll have Karen talk to you separately, and she’ll give you a complete list of what she needs. You know the drill. Let him know that a person with a strong personal bias against him is helping Karen. He is not to seek her out, and if he ever happens to see her again, he had better march in a different direction. If she reports otherwise, he will suffer a fate worse than he could ever imagine—I’ll sic mad-dog Tobi on him.”
Alicia terminated the call and dialed another number. “Hey, Max, how are you?” she asked, studying Karen. “Listen, I think the young woman I discussed with you the other day is a good candidate for your firm. I’ve checked her out, and she’s a top-flight litigation secretary who’s been making five hundred a week.”
Karen’s eyes grew large.
“You said the other day your firm has added ten new lawyers, so why don’t you give her a try? I’ll stand by her at five hundred for the first week. If she doesn’t work out, it’s on me. If she does, pay her for the first week and give her a raise of fifty bucks. Deal?”
Alicia put a hand over the phone and raised her eyebrows, waiting for a sign of approval from Karen, who hopped out of her seat and raised her hands in the air.
“Terrific,” said Alicia into the phone. “She’ll report to you on Monday.”
“I can’t believe this,” said Karen after Alicia hung up. “I know I came to a women’s shelter, but damn!”
“You came to the right place,” said Danielle, “because Licia does not play.”
“Yeah, I get that,” said Karen, turning to Alicia. “But you seem so young to be able to make things like this happen. You obviously know important people, and you have influence.”
“I had a good teacher,” said Alicia.
“Mother Lil?” asked Danielle.
“No, my father.”
“The next time you talk to your father,” said Karen, “tell him I said he’s one helluva man.”
Alicia closed her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “At some point, I’ll do that.”
Alicia leaned against a wall outside the office of her thesis adviser, Dr. William Drake, waiting for him to finish a telephone call. She breathed deeply, remembering how she had felt when she first arrived in San Francisco in need of information. She finally heard silence in the office and tapped on the door.
“Enter,” boomed Dr. Drake.
Alicia peeked into the office, where the graying, thickset man was busily writing notes on a legal pad. He looked up, exposing a face peeling from sunburn.
“Come in and have a seat,” he said, putting the pad aside.
Alicia slipped through the door as Dr. Drake searched for something on his desk. “I’ve looked at your prospectus,” he said, finding Alicia’s document and shaking it. “Very ambitious in certain respects, but let me be candid with you. This human motivation/crises stuff seems more like a mealy-mouthed approach one might expect from a sociologist. I’ve agreed to be your thesis adviser, but for an economics dissertation.”
“Dr. Drake, I can assure you that my variables dealing with human motivation and crises will be supported with economic data and analysis.”
“I see that in your prospectus, and I don’t doubt your ability to make the analysis, but where is the data going to come from? You have to make international comparisons using numbers that permit those comparisons. How do we know that a measure of economic activity reported by Taiwan has been prepared consistently with the same measure reported by India? That data doesn’t exist, at least not yet, and you can’t possibly expect to construct it yourself. Without it you only have sociology.”
“I had hoped you might be able to provide some leads.”
“The likely source is an organization with the motive and resources to amass the data, but I’m not aware of anyone working on a project of this magnitude right now. Surely it needs to be done. The questions are who and when.”
Dr. Drake, who had only moments before appeared straight-faced and agitated, smiled. “Look, Alicia, I know you want to do your own thing,” he said, “but like I’ve told you before, you can get through your dissertation with relative ease if you work with me on unit roots. You have terrific analytical and quantitative skills, and this is really fertile ground. Does an unexpected shock from something like an oil price spike or a change in tax policy have a temporary or permanent effect on the economy? Is U.S. economic activity better described as being influenced by temporary ups and downs or by more fundamental permanent shifts in the level of economic activity? Statistical analysis of unit roots tries to provide a reliable answer, and you don’t need to make the difficult cross-country comparisons your theory requires. It’s not too late to change direction, and I can be of greater help to you with unit roots. Get your Ph.D., and explore this other research you have in mind when the data becomes available.”
Alicia breathed deeply. “I appreciate your advice, Dr. Drake, and I have the utmost admiration for your work, but the theory is getting a great deal of attention from others right now, and my model is very personal to me. Nothing has really been done in the area.”
“Okay, well, I’ve tried to talk some sense into you for the last time,” said Dr. Drake. “If you’re going down this path, you need to nail down currency exchange rate management, which is driven more by policy considerations than economic data. Why don’t you work on that, and maybe enough data will become available before you finish.”
“That’s good advice,” admitted Alicia. “I’ve been thinking about the need to integrate that topic into the dissertation. I’m particularly interested in exploring why countries using fixed rates of exchange price their currencies artificially high, when there are obvious advantages to moving in the opposite direction.”
“Put it into a separate paper for me so we can at least see some progress.”
“Thank you,” said Alicia as she stood to leave.
“Just remember,” added Dr. Drake, his expression softening, “in the past I’ve seen others come in with too much ambition and strike out. I don’t want that to happen to you. Your swing needs to be original, but you don’t need to hit the ball out of the park.”
Ewnet Tayesh examined herself in a full-length mirror as her sister, Naomi, straightened the train on her wedding gown.
“How much more time before I walk?” Ewnet asked in Amharic, her native Ethiopian language.
“The church is full, Nety. Your future husband waits for you with hungry eyes. It is good that his tuxedo coat covers his privates.”
“My comedian sister tells jokes about the groom while the bride falls apart. And please, Naomi, as I’ve asked you before, call me my American name.”
“And what is wrong with Nety? Our mother calls you Nety. Our father called you Nety.”
“I prefer the sound of Nikki better. So, how do I look? Will he be pleased?”
Naomi stood beside Nikki and studied her reflection in the mirror. She backed up and faked a frown before erupting with laughter. “Your husband-to-be is a very handsome man, and you look like a queen.”
“Really?” Nikki broke into a grin.
“You know you’re a beauty queen. You always have been, but I have you beat up top.”
“You old cow!” said Nikki, finding relief in her sister’s playfulness. “You should have me beat, after three babies in five years. My husband-to-be likes my top, and he especially likes my bottom.” Nikki smiled slyly.
“Your wedding gown is exquisite,” said Naomi. “How could you afford it? Did our mother get it for you?”
“I didn’t buy it. His mother loaned it to me. She wore it on her wedding day. She said she’d saved it for her daughter, but now she insists that I wear it. We’re the same size, and the alterations were minimal.”
“Then she must love you. How about your future husband? Do you know whether he truly loves you?”
“Oh, yes, I know,” said Nikki, blushing.
“Oh, my goodness,” exclaimed Naomi, placing a hand over her mouth. “You are already lovers!”
“No, sister,” said Nikki. “Our mother need not be disappointed. I saved myself for my wedding night.”
“I don’t believe you, and I don’t blame you. He is so big and manly.” Naomi smiled and embraced Nikki. “I am happy for you,” she said. “You are about to marry an American doctor. Our father must be applauding in his grave. You are so lucky.”
The two squeezed arms as Nikki grinned. “Bless Dr. Fein,” she said. “He introduced us at the hospital in Los Angeles. Only a few weeks before, I almost quit for a higher-paying nursing job, but I had a feeling I should stay.”
Nikki heard a knock on the door of her dressing room. The wedding director peeked in. “It’s time,” she said.
“Thank you,” replied Nikki in perfect English. “Naomi, please help me with my train, and hold me up if I start to faint.”
“There will be no fainting today, little sister. Go get your man!”
Nikki appeared in the archway of the center aisle as the organist announced the bride. Her older brother, Abraham, took her arm as people stood on both sides of her, greeting her with sighs of admiration. Impervious to the crowd of strange faces and the sound of trumpets blaring her march, her eyes locked onto his, her nerves dissipating into internal peace, and she began her journey, floating down the aisle to the rhythm of her heart. As she neared him, his eyes penetrated her mind, and she felt connected; his eyes undressed her, and she felt sensuous; his eyes reached into her soul, and she felt cherished.
I am listening, Benton Tilman Jr., she thought. I will take your love to the grave. I will spoil you endlessly, just as you spoil me. No argument will taint our togetherness or interfere with our bed, for let there be no mistake: I am the last woman you will touch. You will need no other.
Benny sat in the middle of the Tilman living room with Nikki at his side, the two ready to open wedding gifts as his family looked on.
“You guys sure collected a ton of presents,” said his mother. “I hope your apartment is big enough for everything.”
“This is a lovely problem to have,” said Nikki, glancing from one pile to the other.
“Let’s see how well these kids cleaned up,” said Ben, winking as he handed Benny an envelope. “You guys already know our gift to you is your honeymoon. Only the destination has been kept a secret. Go on and open it.”
Benny grinned at Nikki and handed the envelope to her. She peeked inside and squealed. “Maui! Thank you!”
“Nikki, you’re going to love Hawaii,” said Benny. “Mama Tilman, remember when we went? I must have been about twelve at the time and Alicia fourteen.”
“Fourteen years ago now,” said his mother, shaking her head wistfully.
“We had a ball,” said Benny. “We went to a luau. Women were doing the hula onstage, and one of them came down and grabbed Mama Tilman from the audience. You should have seen her trying to copy the women, moving her hips this way and that and waving her arms off to the side.”
Mama Tilman stood and demonstrated the dance as everyone laughed.
“And boy, you should have seen yourself grinning from ear to ear,” she said as she sat back down. “I almost snatched your butt back up to that stage so you could do the hula with me.”
“You should have. I would have been game. I’d have changed the hula to the boogaloo and set the floor on fire.”
“Those were good times,” said his mother as her smile faded. “But I have something else to hand over. It’s especially for you, Nikki, and it is very significant to our family. I’ll let Benny explain later.”
Benny watched his mother pick out a gift-wrapped box from the edge of the pile and hand it to Nikki.
Nikki neatly disassembled the wrapping paper as Benny looked on. He glanced at his father and grandmother, but saw only blank faces. Nikki removed the lid from the box, reached in, and held up a sparkling silver teapot. “This is beautiful!” she said.
Benny squinted at the teapot, then turned and looked at the mantle over the fireplace just to be sure. His mother was smiling, but Mama Tilman and his father seemed as disturbed as he was.
“Mom, please,” he said, “we can’t accept this. It’s supposed to go to Alicia. I have issues with my sister, but I could never take this from her.”
Nikki placed the teapot back in the box, pushing it away.
“If Alicia had any intention of claiming it,” said Sandra, “she would have done so a long time ago. There is no rule against the teapot going to a wonderful, devoted son and his special wife. After all, that’s how it came to me. So I want you two to hold the teapot in trust for your daughter, assuming you have one. And if you have more than one, give it to whomever is most deserving.”
Ben’s head subtly twitched to the side, which Benny knew meant no. Then he glanced at his grandmother. A hand had gone to her chin as she frowned, which he knew meant hell no.
“Mom, you honor Nikki and me, but I truly cannot accept the teapot. Please understand and respect my position on this. Please wait for Alicia.”
Nikki smiled at her new mother-in-law and reached for the box. She removed the teapot and placed it back on the mantle. “You saved the wedding dress for your daughter, but instead allowed me to wear it in her place. You can give me no greater gift. Let this one stay in its place.”
“Okay,” said Sandra, raising her palms. “I give up. But make me a promise, Benny. If on the day I die this teapot is still sitting on that mantle, you and Nikki take it and save it for your daughter.”
“I promise,” said Benny.