Alicia reached for her flying, windblown hair, laughing uncontrollably as Cathy Florentino sped back from Oakland in her convertible Corvette. The black-haired beauty had kept Alicia in stitches during their entire trip, peppering her with jokes and outrageous stories of a childhood spent in Napa, California, where Cathy’s family owned a vineyard. Now, traveling over the Bay Bridge, Cathy sang along with the Rolling Stones at the top of her lungs. Then Sly and the Family Stone hit the radio and Alicia danced in her seat, waving her arms as she bounced to the beat. “Sing it, Little Sister,” she erupted, finding Cathy’s free-spirited mood contagious and feeling relief from her problems for the first time in weeks.
Cathy finally screeched to a stop in front of the house, but much too soon for Alicia. In between jokes, wine country stories, and the music, she had never had a chance to ask any of her questions about Lil’s Place. She wondered how such a happy-go-lucky person—with a Corvette, no less—could be housed here.
Cathy led Alicia and her packages to Lucy Chen’s room on the second floor. When Cathy knocked and barged in, Lucy was lounging on her bed, reading a book. She sprang up with a smile as Cathy zoomed right back out, apparently needing to prepare for her date.
Alicia stared. She had imagined all Asians as short and petite, but Lucy stood taller than her by a few inches, and she wore tight jeans and a tucked-in T-shirt that revealed curves in all the right spots. Her sleek hairstyle—a fashionable feathery shag with black bangs—accentuated her keen, pretty facial features.
“Alicia, welcome to Lil’s Place. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
Alicia heard a proper British accent, which caught her completely off guard. This is a first for me, she thought, an Asian girl with a British accent.
“Thanks, and please forgive my poor manners,” she said after an awkward pause. “You’ve obviously spent time in England.”
“I’m originally from Hong Kong, but my parents sent me to study in England at an early age, and I split my time between the two until college. And if you think I sound odd, you should hear a Chinese girl from Jamaica.”
Lucy grinned, which put Alicia at ease.
“I hope you’re not offended by my pronunciation of your first name,” said Lucy. “It’s only natural for me to say A-li-see-a, instead of the American pronunciation. Should I change my ways, or will you tolerate me?”
“I like the sound. It’s different, and it goes rather nicely with my last name.”
“Terrific. Please make yourself comfortable. You’ll find plenty of drawer and closet space for your things.”
Alicia sat on the bed opposite Lucy’s, testing the springs as she looked around. While her side of the room appeared to have been recently vacated, various pieces of Asian art, posters, and a picture of an older Chinese woman decorated Lucy’s side. The space reminded Alicia of the rooms she had seen on her visit to Radcliffe.
“You must have some questions you would like to ask,” said Lucy, “if not now, perhaps later. I have a date picking me up in about thirty minutes or so, but we can talk while I get ready. You really should feel quite honored, and since we’ve met I would say the honor is well deserved.”
“Honored? Why do you say that?”
“It’s very rare that a girl arrives here on her first day and is sent immediately to the second floor, which is off-limits to nearly everyone who seeks help from Lil’s Place. Mother Lil obviously wanted you right away. You’re very attractive, that’s easy to see, but she must really like you as well.”
Taken aback, Alicia blushed. “You’re sweet to say so, but I can’t tell whether Mother Lil likes me all that much. How many girls are here?”
“Well, there are two large bedrooms downstairs, one behind the kitchen and one on the other side of the house next to Mother Lil’s room, with twelve cots divided between those two rooms. Girls on the first floor are allowed to stay only a few days, and if they’re runaways the police are notified—something you won’t need to worry about on this floor. Up here, there are four bedrooms, and with you here, there are now eight of us.”
Alicia wondered whether Shelly knew of the time restriction imposed on her stay. She decided to address her most pressing concern. “What can you tell me about Mother Lil?” she asked.
“Mother Lil is a great soul,” said Lucy as she shimmied out of her jeans. “We all love her dearly. She may appear a little rough at times, but in her own way she’s extraordinarily kind and fair. She’s a shrewd businesswoman and expects all of us to do our jobs well, but she’s also generous and protective. She’s a survivor who’s gone through a lot and always comes out on top.”
“Can I trust her?”
“Mother Lil must earn your trust, and you must earn hers,” answered Lucy as she rolled on a pair of silky nylons. “That will happen over time. For now, you should know that whatever commitment she’s made will be fulfilled. Aside from that, she will never cheat you, and you should never attempt to cheat her.”
Lucy moved to her dressing table and began to apply dramatic eye makeup.
Alicia paused. “I have a sensitive question. My circumstances are a little different than the rest of you because, well, um . . .”
“You’re pregnant.”
“You know?”
“Anytime a new girl arrives on the second floor, the rest of us are fully briefed on her background to the extent Mother Lil knows such things. Don’t be angry, Alicia. We all live together and eventually would have learned your circumstances anyway. This must be a very difficult time for you.”
“It’s been rough, but I should be okay now.”
“I’m sure things will be fine, especially for a girl admitted to Radcliffe,” said Lucy, finishing with a dark red lipstick that complimented her flawless complexion. “I attended Stanford up until a couple of years ago. But you had a question, and I interrupted you.”
“Now I have a lot of questions,” answered Alicia in surprise. “But the one I wanted to ask concerned my pregnancy and whether it could make a difference in my ability to trust Mother Lil. She really is being very supportive, and I’m concerned about her expectations in return. She wants me to go on dates once I deliver. That’s still about seven months away, but at that point I’ll owe her a lot of money if she allows me to stay that long.”
Alicia watched as Lucy opened her closet to reveal a row of elegant evening dresses.
“Mother Lil won’t force you into servitude, if you’re worried about that,” replied Lucy, selecting a formfitting strapless gown in cobalt-blue satin. “In order to be a good escort, you have to want the work, or at least need it. If neither motive is present, then you’ll be a lousy date, and you will hurt her business.”
That made sense, and Alicia nodded. “Okay, well, I guess I have another question, which is also sensitive and somewhat related to the first.”
“We are all big girls here, Alicia, so don’t hesitate to raise any issues on your mind.” Lucy smiled as she zipped up her gown.
“It has to do with sex,” blurted Alicia.
“You mean, are we prostitutes?” said Lucy, laughing.
“I guess that’s what I mean, but I don’t want to offend you or anyone else. See, I don’t think I can be an escort. It’s just not consistent with my upbringing.”
“I take no offense. I had the same question when I first came here. I didn’t think I could be an escort either, but life sometimes leads us in unanticipated directions. At any rate, no, I’m not a prostitute. I’ve suspected a few girls in the past, but Mother Lil let them go. She has her rules and makes her position on prostitution clear: she won’t tolerate it. But I think her position has less to do with morality and more to do with her reputation and fear of violating the law. If one of her girls gets caught, the implication would be very dangerous for her. She could lose her license to operate an escort service, and we’d all be out of a job and a place to stay.”
Lucy busied herself with dangling sparkling earrings.
“I don’t want to mislead you, though. A guy occasionally may solicit sex, even though he knows we’re not prostitutes and has been told to treat us with respect. Sometimes money is offered, sometimes not.”
“You mentioned rules,” said Alicia. “What are they, at least for the escorts?”
“Mother Lil expects everyone to be professional at all times. Your job is to make sure your date has an enjoyable time, but not at personal risk. Most of these guys are well screened and pretty reasonable, so crazy things don’t happen very often. Second, intoxication on a date is not allowed, and any indulgence in drugs is absolutely forbidden. If a guy gets wasted, it’s his privilege, not ours. It’s just good business, because an escort’s senses must be sharp at all times. Third, never lie to Mother Lil. She doesn’t handle it well.”
Lucy rooted around in her top dresser drawer.
“Fourth, men are not allowed in our rooms. This is our sanctuary. She wants customers to take us on dates rather than mill around here, and girls with boyfriends see them elsewhere. Fifth, no personal involvement with customers outside of a prearranged date. Men sometimes will become interested in having a relationship, but once a relationship starts, they’re no longer customers of the business. As far as Mother Lil is concerned, the girl in that situation can no longer serve as an escort because she’s stolen the customer.” Lucy paused, continuing to dig through her drawer. “Let’s see here, where are we?”
“I think you just finished rule five,” said Alicia, engrossed in the conversation.
“I know, but I can’t find my bracelet,” said Lucy, then produced it in triumph. “Okay, back to rules. All dates must be arranged through Mother Lil. None of us are allowed to make private arrangements. That’s the reason we stay at Lil’s Place, so she can control our dates even though most of us could afford apartments. Finally, we are all interchangeable. The customers belong to the house, not to any girl. A gentleman may develop a preference for a certain girl over time, but if she is unavailable on a specific occasion, he is directed to someone else.”
Lucy picked up the small evening purse she kept on her dressing table. “Essentially, those are the rules, Alicia. You won’t find them written anywhere, but we all know them.”
A rhythmic rapping sounded at the door. Without waiting for an answer, a young woman with a dark complexion shuffled in, glasses adjusted low on the bridge of her nose. She pressed the palms of her hands together as though in prayer and bowed slightly to Lucy. Then she smiled and crossed her eyes. “Missy, missy, Master Lou here,” she said rapidly, mimicking a Chinese servant. “Master Lou say bring narrow, sweet ass now. Hurry, hurry.”
Alicia eyed Lucy tentatively, gauging her reaction. Lucy’s expression, which up to this point had been nothing short of pleasant, went blank. Having stepped into high heels, she towered over the much shorter woman as she placed her hands on her hips.
“Now, Mammy,” she said, imitating a Southern belle, “don’t worry your poor little self about Massa. You go right ahead and finish cooking the greens and ham hocks, and tell Massa Lou I’ll be right down. And tell him my ass ain’t narrow, and it certainly ain’t sweet, especially for him. Go on now, Mammy! Go on and get!”
The other woman dipped her head and peered over her glasses with raised eyebrows. Her look went hard as she leaned back and pulled out a classic black woman’s side-to-side head bob. Lucy immediately struck back with the same move, which she executed as easily as her adversary, and a stare-off ensued.
Alicia gulped, ready to start for the door, until laughter broke out. Lucy and the other woman slapped palms, and Lucy finally introduced her to Celia Cole.
“Hey now,” said Celia in response to Alicia’s smile.
“Celia is my girl,” said Lucy, nudging Alicia with her elbow. “I have to leave, but you two should get to know each other. Feel free to make yourself at home, and I’ll see you later. Ciao.”
“So, Alicia, how’s it going?” asked Celia as Lucy left. “Are you going to abort?”
“Wow, Celia, you get right to the point, don’t you?” said Alicia, smiling timidly. “But no, I can’t do that.”
“Yeah, I have a habit of putting my nose where it doesn’t belong, but you’ll learn to love me for it. At the risk of getting my nose knocked off, why can’t you abort?”
Alicia shrugged. “I just think I could be carrying someone special. Maybe I’m kidding myself.”
“I came here pregnant, too. I decided to abort, though. Thinking your baby could be someone special makes it hard. I started going down that path, too, but had to stop. I just knew I wasn’t ready to be a mama. Plus, I didn’t want to ruin all of this.”
Celia put her hands in the air and turned a full circle, showing off her hourglass figure. Then she stopped and looked away for a moment. “But I think you’re right,” she said. “Your son—” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Whoops, I shouldn’t have ruined the surprise. But he’s going to be someone special.”
“What do you mean?” asked Alicia, startled.
“Sometimes I see things. Right now, I know you’re going to have a boy and that one day he will be special, but I can’t see anymore at the moment.”
Celia stared into Alicia’s eyes, which Alicia took as a sign of sincerity. She vacillated between amazement and doubt, wanting to believe Celia, but also feeling skeptical.
“Lucy is good people,” said Celia. “You’re lucky to have her for a roommate. I just moved out to make room for you.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know I was displacing someone.”
“No, it’s cool. Mother Lil knows what she’s doing. You must be a bad bitch, though, to come up to the second floor on the first day. She didn’t let me come up until after I had the abortion.”
“Did she convince you to have the abortion?”
“No, not Mother Lil; she wouldn’t do that. I mean, we talked about it, but it was my decision. See, I knew if I had a baby, I would keep it, but I wasn’t ready. My mama wasn’t what I would call a good role model—you know, like Donna Reed from the TV show. So I knew if I had a baby then, I would just perpetuate a bad cycle. Now you, Little Miss Prissy, I can tell you’ve had someone like Donna for a mother.” Celia grinned as she dipped her head and peered over her glasses.
“Yeah, but she doesn’t walk around the house all day in pretty, starched dresses,” said Alicia, grinning. “She’s a fifth-grade schoolteacher.”
“Are you a mama’s girl?”
Alicia looked away wistfully. “A little, but more of a daddy’s girl.”
“So why are you here? It’s pretty obvious you like your parents, and you come from a good family. What’s the problem?”
How much should I disclose?
“Shame is the problem,” Alicia finally said. “As simple as shame.”
Celia snorted. “The sooner you get over that, the better off you’re going to be. All shame can do is screw you up. It’s about survival now. Believe me, I know!” She paused and gazed into space. “You know what?” she said as her head jerked back to Alicia. “You are a bad bitch. You just don’t know it yet.”
“Huh?”
“You’re going to be somebody important one day, too,” said Celia, but she paused again, as though in a trance. “Nah, nah, nah, I’m wrong.” She turned back to Alicia with a scrunched-up face. “Damn, girl, I’m afraid of you! Shit, you’re not a bad bitch. You’re a super-bad bitch!”
Celia locked on to Alicia’s eyes. Alicia looked back with embarrassment, unable to respond.
“Alicia, the way I came in here and cut up with Lucy, well, you should know I clown a lot because it helps me deal with my own stuff, but I never mean any harm. Everybody here is dealing with something. We cope in our own ways.”
“What about Cathy? She doesn’t seem to have a problem in the world.”
“That’s just Cathy’s personality, but it’s no secret she came here tripping on LSD after she fell out with her family over drugs. Once Mother Lil cleaned her up, she made Cathy an escort, provided she stays clean. So like I said, we’ve all got problems. Now, you hang tough, and I’ll catch you later. I got to get busy in my own crib. I’m a little down the hall, hanging with Danielle. Stop by anytime. Say, you play bid?”
“Bid?”
“Yeah, bid whist. It’s a card game, kind of like bridge. Lucy and I are partners, and we kick everybody’s ass. Shit, sometimes I know who’s got what without even having to cheat, but shush! Don’t say anything. The others would have a fit. Peace!”
On the morning of her second day at Lil’s Place, Alicia met the rest of the full-time girls: Joanna McIntire, a buxom blonde from San Francisco who, at thirty-three, was the oldest of the group; Danielle Nix, a tall, exotic-looking black woman and aspiring model; Diana Blake, a redheaded transplant from Georgia; and Lindsay Glazier, a short brunette from New York.
On the same day, Alicia reported to Mother Lil for her work assignments. Mother Lil sent her to find Antoinette Jefferson, the head of the kitchen.
“No one goes hungry at Lil’s Place,” said Mrs. Jefferson. “These young girls coming here on the run, they can really eat! I cook for them what I call stick-to-the-ribs kind of food. Now, as long as I can stay in my budget, I sometimes cook special dishes for Lillian and the rest of you on the second floor. Lillian, she likes Southern cooking. That woman loves her some of my oxtails, that and fried chicken and red beans and rice. Diana is a Georgia girl, and she gets down with Lillian. You like that kind of food, Alicia?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. My mom and grandmother are great cooks, and they sometimes cook in the Southern style, too.”
“Good. Then you know how it’s supposed to taste. Now Lindsay, she loves her some sandwiches, especially corned beef on rye, and Cathy likes a good steak and Mexican food. That tall, skinny thing, Danielle, she’s so worried about her weight she doesn’t eat much, just a little rabbit food. You have a special dish, something that reminds you of home?”
“I kind of miss my mother’s gumbo.”
“What kind she make? Seafood?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Seafood is expensive, but one day I’ll make some for you when I’m not going to blow my budget. Can’t blow my budget. No way. Lillian would have a fit. Girl, add some flour to that gravy and stir it good. Then start peeling those potatoes and throw them in the pot when you’re done. Later, I’m going to need you to run to the store for me, and there’s a whole slew a mess that needs cleaning on the back porch.”
A few hours later, Alicia flopped on her bed, moaning in misery. “I’m so tired of cleaning toilets, mopping floors, and chopping onions, potatoes, and who knows what else, I don’t know what to do.”
Lucy looked up from the hem she was sewing. “Mrs. Jefferson working you too hard already?”
“That woman is as sweet as can be, but she needs me and five others to do all this work. This is how my grandmother must have felt when she was younger.”
“Did she do similar work?”
“Early on, she supported herself and my father by cleaning homes in Chesapeake. After my brother and I grew older, she moved in with us, but she never stopped working around the house. And I’m not talking about a person without other interests. Mama Tilman wanted to go to Hampton in her youth, but it didn’t work out, so she settled for making sure my father went.”
“She sounds like an amazing woman.”
“She truly is. But what about you? Tell me how a girl from Hong Kong winds up at Stanford and then at Lil’s Place.”
Lucy sighed, hesitating. “My father owns a commercial bank in Hong Kong. He diversified to the U.S. and bought a small state-chartered bank in Seattle a few years ago, and then he purchased a home in the area. This is going on quite a bit these days in the Hong Kong business community. People are transferring assets to the U.S. because no one really knows what’s going to happen in 1997, when China assumes control from the British over Hong Kong.”
Alicia nodded with interest. “I never thought about that.”
“My father sent me to Stanford to study U.S. banking and finance, but during my junior year my mother died from brain cancer. He remarried only a short time later, and that’s when we fell out. The woman had to have been his mistress all along. It was like he was waiting for my mother to die. He destroyed her memory, and I wanted nothing further to do with him. So I dropped out of Stanford and came here.”
“I am so sorry about your mother, Lucy. Before she died, were you and your father close?”
“I’m an only child. We were as close as a father and daughter could be.”
Lucy dropped her head, and Alicia sensed that Lucy’s resentment had been replaced by lingering hurt. She forgot her fatigue, rushed to Lucy, and draped an arm around her shoulder. When Lucy looked up, Alicia saw tears. She comforted Lucy until she recovered, and shared under a promise of strict secrecy the full circumstances of her pregnancy, including the Tilman family secret. As the afternoon turned into evening, Alicia discovered unexpected commonality with her new roommate. Although she and Lucy came from different cultures and different parts of the world, both had been raised in a home of expectations; both had been doted upon, especially by their fathers; both had been trained to pursue professional goals normally reserved for men; and neither had a clear vision as to how those goals could ever be attained since each had become sidetracked.
The two eventually discussed Celia. Alicia learned that Celia never knew her father, and her mother was a drug addict. Even as a little girl, Celia and her mother reversed roles, with Celia taking care of her mother more than her mother took care of her. At eighteen, one of her mother’s boyfriends raped her, leading to pregnancy and the journey to Mother Lil’s doorstep.
Lucy also confirmed Celia’s ability to “see” things, like when Celia predicted that a new arrival on the first floor would prove to be a thief. After only a day, the girl was caught rifling through the purse of another first-floor girl, and Mother Lil had to throw her out. Lucy said that Celia’s gift arose infrequently and was beyond her control; but to Lucy’s knowledge, Celia had never been wrong.
Benny Tilman stood in the doorway of his Chesapeake bedroom, eavesdropping on a conversation between his parents and Mama Tilman.
“Where could she be?” said his mother. “She’s been missing for weeks, and the police can’t find a trace of her. I’m scared out of my wits that something could have happened. What are you waiting for, Ben? Hire Daddy’s detective, and do it now.”
“Benton, I agree, that’s the right thing to do,” said Mama Tilman.
Benny covered his face with his hands, his world having turned to chaos since returning from summer football camp. He charged from the doorway into his father’s study, surprising the others.
“No sign of Alicia?” he said.
“Not yet,” said his father, “but we’ll find her, son, don’t worry.”
“It’s hard not to worry, Dad. I hope Alicia comes home soon, and when she does I’m going to give her a big hug. Then I’m going to kill her for putting us through this.”
“It’s not all her fault,” said his mother, trying to conceal her tears.
“She’s the one who got pregnant,” said Benny. “She’s the one who couldn’t face up to it and ran away from home.”
His father blew out a deep sigh. “Benny, sit down for a minute. There are some things you need to know about your family.”
On Saturday, November 22, Alicia retreated to her bed, her rapidly changing body physically at Lil’s Place, her mind thousands of miles away. Thinking about her family, she saw only their faces and heard only their voices, oblivious to other sights and sounds.
This day had always been special: a chocolate cake baked by her mother, Mama Tilman’s delicious peach cobbler, pinches on the arm from Benny, presents from everybody, and the traditional song and the blowing out of candles. Sometimes Grandpa and Grandma Miller even traveled from Richmond to join in the celebration.
Alicia eyed the telephone, having received permission from Mother Lil to make a long-distance call. She had swiveled her eyes to and from the phone for about an hour, desperately wanting to hear a familiar voice, but fearful of incurring the wrath of her parents. She pressed her hands against her firm, swollen belly. Finally, at around two in the afternoon, she picked up the phone and dialed home, but she hung up before the line rang—a process repeated several times over the next thirty minutes. Finally, she allowed the call to go through.
“Hello, hello,” said her mother after a half ring. Silence. “Hello?” she repeated with urgency.
Alicia hung up the phone. She smiled at the sound of her mother’s voice, but her smile soon turned into sobs. I love you so very, very much, she thought. One day I’ll be able to show you.
Later that afternoon Mrs. Jefferson summoned Alicia to the kitchen. A loud chorus of happy birthdays from Mother Lil and the second-floor girls greeted her when she arrived. Mrs. Jefferson had made seafood gumbo and a birthday cake with candles, and the celebration brought Alicia back to life.
The Tilmans solemnly lit eighteen birthday candles over a chocolate cake in honor of Alicia, hoping she would call. Sandra eventually put the cake away without cutting even a slice; Benny did not protest. Ben and Sandra then retreated to their bedroom.
“I talked to Kevin Clark, the private detective, today,” said Ben, eyeing Sandra uneasily. “He’s got nothing yet, no leads at all.”
“Daddy says he’s good, a real bulldog,” said Sandra, sitting on the bed and staring at a picture of a grinning eight-year-old Alicia. “Since the police can’t find a trace, he’s our only hope.”
Ben moved to the bed beside his wife and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “He says she’ll surface whenever she applies for credit or a driver’s license. Knowing Alicia, she’ll be applying for a license sometime soon.”
“I hope so. I want my daughter back. A mother should never have to go through this.”
“Don’t worry, Sandy, we’ll find her. I checked her bank account again. She still hasn’t tried to withdraw any money. Now that she’s eighteen, she can do it on her own, without one of us. When she does, assuming she orders checks, we’ll have a good lead. We’ll know where the checks are cashed.”
Ben withdrew his arm from Sandra’s shoulder and clasped his hands in his lap. “There’s something else I need to tell you,” he said. “I talked to my attorney today. He says the prosecutor is going to charge me for breaking and entering and assault with a deadly weapon, both felonies.”
Sandra launched to her feet. “You mean you could go to jail?”
“He doesn’t think it’s going to come to that,” said Ben, trying to sound reassuring. “Apparently, the Samsons won’t testify. The prosecutor only has Detective Johnson, and I hear he’s a reluctant witness.”
“First I lose my daughter, and now I could lose my husband?” Sandra burst into tears.
On the third Sunday in December, nearing her seventh month of pregnancy, Alicia enjoyed a day of rest with the second-floor girls. The baby was moving and kicking regularly now, as if swimming around like a little fish. “Who are you going to be?” whispered Alicia, rubbing her belly.
Tonight, in celebration of Christmas, Mother Lil and the second-floor girls would be heading to Chinatown for a traditional Chinese dinner banquet organized by Lucy. Alicia was looking forward to spending time with the group, curious about Mother Lil’s relationship with the girls and their relationships with one another, which she had yet to fully discern. They left in several cars, everyone dressed to the nines, except for Alicia, who wore a plain white turtleneck under a purple smock dress to conceal her expanding growth. She felt more like an old maid than a young maiden.
With Cathy in the passenger seat, Alicia drove Cathy’s Corvette. Mother Lil had helped Alicia obtain a phony birth certificate, and the California Department of Motor Vehicles issued a driver’s license to Alicia Du Bois. Her license did not come easily, however. Using the Corvette—a far cry from her father’s Volkswagen—Alicia initially flunked the driving portion of the test, but passed a few days later.
When Alicia and Cathy met the group in the restaurant, a man appearing to be the owner greeted Lucy and made an enormous fuss over her, her status as a valuable customer clear to all. He ushered the group past the general dining room into an exquisite private room with prearranged seating for nine. As she sat between Lucy and Joanna McIntire, Alicia noticed three opened bottles of cognac displayed on a circular table.
“For those of you who have never joined me here in the past,” announced Lucy, “our custom in Hong Kong is to celebrate each dish with a toast of cognac. We Hong Kong Chinese are among the largest consumers of cognac in the world.”
“Hey, hey, hey, bring on the cognac,” said Celia, which led to a mixture of hoots and cheers.
Several hostesses invaded the room and served dishes of fried crab claws while filling water glasses with cognac, but Alicia declined a glass and settled instead for a cup of tea.
“Joanna, please be the first to render a toast,” said Lucy.
Joanna stood and held her glass high. “Thank you for organizing this evening,” she said. “Last night I had dinner with Doc Mitchell. Some of you know him. He’s eighty-five and Mother Lil’s most senior customer.” Balancing her glass, Joanna angled her head against her hands and made a snoring sound. “Boring!” she said. “I’ll take a night out with you guys any day over a night out with him, and that’s what I’m drinking to.”
The girls cheered, and Alicia noticed they all took sips except for Cathy, who first buried her nose in the glass. While the others squinted and made faces at the taste, Cathy smiled with obvious pleasure and swirled the cognac a few times before taking a sip. She gave Lucy an appreciative nod and downed the contents of her glass.
When everyone had finished the appetizer, one of the hostesses marched in with a large soup tureen and served the next dish, shark fin soup. Mother Lil passed on her turn to propose a toast in favor of Cathy, who grinned as she searched through her soup with a chopstick before she finally stood, feigning confusion.
“Where’s the damn fin?” she said. “I really want a fin because I’ve never tasted shark before.” She shrugged and lifted her glass. “Oh well, to the shark, fin or no fin, because I sure as hell would rather be eating him than the other way around.”
“I hear that,” said Celia as Cathy downed another glass against the polite sips of others.
“Go easy, Cathy,” barked Mother Lil.
“You forget I’m a connoisseur,” retorted Cathy, “born and raised to appreciate good grape, especially one named for my favorite general, Napoleon. Just remember, baby, I’m a woman’s woman!”
Alicia joined the others in applause as Mother Lil shot a look of warning Cathy’s way. Cathy blew her a kiss and giggled. Mother Lil rolled her eyes and attempted to hold back a laugh.
As Alicia noted the exchange, she realized how much she had enjoyed the crab claws and now the soup, having never ventured much beyond chop suey in Chesapeake.
Hostesses soon poured into the room with sweet and sour pork. Celia stood shakily as tears swelled in her eyes. “Mother Lil has taught me what it means to have a real mother,” she said. “Thank you, Mother Lil. I love you, and yeah, I’m buzzed right now, but this ain’t the cognac talking.”
Alicia applauded again but stopped when the others began poking fun at Celia, speaking gibberish or slurring their words. Celia flipped an impolite finger to all of them, and then she appeared shocked at the sight of her glass, still relatively full. “Shit, I need to leave Mr. Bad-Ass Napoleon alone,” she said.
Alicia laughed with the others, including Mother Lil, who lurched forward holding her stomach. “Cathy, take Celia’s poor drunk butt under your wing and teach her how to drink,” cried Mother Lil, squeezing out the words between snorts.
As the evening progressed, dishes of food continued to appear: roast duck; a vegetable dish served with shrimp fried rice, which received a disapproving look from Lucy since, as she told Alicia, the two items should have been served separately; a large fish with head intact; and finally, a dish of fruit cocktail mixed in a milky paste.
The roast duck had been Alicia’s favorite. She had thought the dish exotic and had eaten tentatively at first, and then with relish. She had enjoyed the fish nearly as much, and certainly much more than Mother Lil. Lucy had instructed a hostess to give the head to Mother Lil, announcing that the Chinese believe eating the head brings good luck.
“Do I have to?” Mother Lil had asked, frowning. “Someone else can have my luck.”
Lucy had ultimately taken Mother Lil’s portion by default and, to everyone’s disgust, consumed the head with extreme pleasure, sucking out as much luck as she could find.
With the meal winding down, Lucy proposed her toast, standing and facing Alicia. “I toast you,” she said, “for demonstrating to all of us the meaning of courage.”
Alicia’s eyes misted over and she turned to Lucy and embraced her.
“I have never had the benefit of sisters,” said Alicia, standing to address the girls. “I would like to thank each of you for your gift of sisterhood. You have made me feel welcome. All of you know this is a difficult time for me, but each of you in your own way has made my life easier.”
While Alicia struggled back to her seat, the others moaned in sympathy and sipped from their glasses, except for Lindsay.
“My turn, my turn,” she said, bouncing up. “Watch this!”
Lindsay breathed deeply and closed her eyes. “Here goes,” she said. Then she lifted her glass and started chugging, but she gave up halfway through. “Well, I guess I’m not a woman’s woman after all,” she said sheepishly, and jeers suddenly turned into cheers.
Mother Lil finally stood. “I don’t want any of you drinking anymore on account of me—especially you, Cathy, and you, Celia, and you, too, Lindsay—so I’m not proposing a toast. Instead, let me say that this has been a good year at Lil’s Place. Each of you has worked hard and done your job well. I have a little something extra for you to go in the Christmas stocking.”
Mother Lil distributed unsealed envelopes to each of the girls. Alicia received two hundred dollars in hers, while the others appeared to finger through one thousand dollars each. Alicia nevertheless felt grateful. She had had no expectation of any gift of money.
As the girls opened fortune cookies, the owner presented Lucy with the bill, which Mother Lil paid. Soon the entire group strolled out of the restaurant, with most holding on to one another, stumbling here and there, while Alicia and Cathy followed in an easy straight line.
Christmas was a festive day at Lil’s Place, but a somber day for Alicia. She resisted the temptation to call home and hear a familiar voice, knowing that her actions on her birthday could not be repeated. Instead, she sent a simple Christmas card through her floormate Diana Blake, who had returned to Atlanta for the holidays and would mail the card from there. At least her family would know she was alive.
On a quiet evening at Lil’s Place after Christmas, Alicia and Lucy lounged in their room. Lucy wrote letters to friends in Hong Kong while Alicia lay in reflection.
“My life is on hold,” she eventually said to her roommate. “I’m floating in limbo, waiting for the birth of this baby. I may not be the same girl who left Chesapeake, but I’m not necessarily a different person. Right now I’m in a cocoon, waiting to take on a different form, but before that can happen I have to make a major decision.”
“Whether to keep and raise the baby, or give it up for adoption?”
“Exactly. So far, carrying the baby is the most selfless thing I’ve ever done. It would have been easier to abort and move on with my life. Most other girls would have done exactly that. But the decision was purely emotional, and now it’s time to use the Tilman approach. I need to stay calm, patient, and strategic to get through this.”
“You’ve been pretty calm since coming to Lil’s Place, and you’ve been patient throughout this process.”
“And now it’s time to be strategic,” said Alicia. “I need to do the right thing for me and the baby, and this decision can’t be based on emotion.”
Alicia remembered her father’s advice: Not all emotional decisions necessarily lead to mistakes, but decisions based on clear, rational thought increase the odds of avoiding a mistake. Consider all available facts, then call your shot and don’t look back.
“I miss my father’s wisdom, Lucy. He allowed me to make independent decisions, but I always knew I had a safety net. He never gave me answers. Instead, he asked questions, the answers to which always revealed the right outcome. But now I don’t have him. I have to make a difficult choice between two options, neither of which seems like the right decision.”
“Are you leaning in any direction?”
Alicia looked away. “My parents would want me to give the baby up,” she said. “I could never bring a child home under these circumstances. I wasn’t supposed to be an unwed mother. I was supposed to be a shining example of what can happen with good parenting. I have a better chance of making them proud without a baby. I also think my baby might be better off being raised by people like my parents. If I could find a nice couple, then I would feel more at ease giving the baby up. My fear with adoption is that this child won’t receive all of the love and advantages I had, or will never get placed at all. If that were to happen, the decision would have been another big mistake.”
The next morning, Alicia found Mother Lil and shared her thoughts, including her concerns over placing the baby in a stranger’s hands.
“I know just what you mean, Alicia. I’ve been thinking about this myself, without knowing what you were going to do. If we put the baby up for adoption, mothers do get a chance to screen potential parents, although it may be a little late for that. But I have another possibility for you to consider. I know of a couple who might love to have your baby. The husband is a ski instructor up in the Lake Tahoe area, and he and his wife lost their son a year or so ago in an accident. The husband has seen Joanna a few times because he needed someone to talk to. Let’s get her down here and run this past her.”
With no objections from Alicia, Mother Lil called Joanna on the intercom. When the well-endowed blonde arrived, Mother Lil summarized her discussion with Alicia and requested Joanna’s input.
Joanna thought for a moment. “It could work,” she said. “Joe is in a lot of pain over the loss of his son, and from what he says, his wife is in a lot of pain as well. Our time together gives him an opportunity to talk about what he’s going through. Apparently, he and his wife are both emotionally needy right now, and neither one of them can tend to the other. I think he’s more comfortable talking to me than a psychiatrist or his friends.”
“Did he ever speak of having another child?” asked Mother Lil.
Joanna shook her head. “No, and that could be a problem. I don’t think this couple would agree in advance to take the baby. I don’t think they want just any child. They want their son. But if a baby were left on their doorstep, so to speak, I suspect the gift wouldn’t be rejected. In fact, I sense the opposite is true, especially for the wife. As I understand, she misses being a mother.”
“How old are they?” asked Alicia.
“Joe is forty and his wife is a couple of years younger,” said Joanna. “He’s originally from Austria. He used to ski for the Austrian Ski Team until he broke his back. Then the U.S. Ski Team hired him to coach over here, and that’s how he met his wife. But now he heads up the Squaw Valley race program.”
So, this is a white couple, surmised Alicia. They may not be willing to accept a black child. But given that I’m fair and Dickey is white, they probably would never know—unless the baby takes after my mother or Mama Tilman.
“Would they be good parents?” asked Alicia, ignoring the issue for the moment.
“These are salt-of-the-earth kind of people. I don’t know how these two would be as parents, but it sounds like they were doing a good job with their son. Joe says the boy won ski races all over. But if you’re worried about Joe since he’s been seeing me, he really loves his wife, Alicia. If he could talk to her about this, he wouldn’t be talking to me.”
“And what if they don’t want the baby?”
“Then we’ll find out, and we’ll get the baby back,” said Mother Lil.
“How?”
“I have my ways. You can bank on it.”
Knowing she had an option, Alicia felt relieved. She continued to talk to Joanna privately and learned even more about Joe and his wife. Over time, she became increasingly comfortable with her newfound alternative, but she had one major reservation: If the couple accepted the baby, the child would likely grow up with a limited appreciation for black traditions and with no actual knowledge of his or her bloodline.
As she neared delivery, Alicia crocheted two blankets, one with a blue background and one with pink. Taught the skill by Mama Tilman, she worked meticulously. She mixed into her baby’s blankets sticklike people representing her family, and included herself in the middle. Mama Tilman appeared in solid brown, her mother and brother in light brown, and she and her father in beige. Celia told her she had wasted her time crocheting a pink blanket.
In mid-February, a week before Alicia’s scheduled delivery, she notified Mother Lil of her decision to give the baby to the couple in Lake Tahoe. But two days later, she told Lucy, “I made a commitment to Mother Lil, but now I just don’t know.”
Alicia felt her swollen stomach, searching for signs of life. “Here’s my baby,” she said, grinning at Lucy in delight. “Oh, how I want this child!” Then a few minutes later: “But I know deep down that giving the baby up is the right decision. Lucy, I’m so torn. What would you do?”
“There’s something I need to tell you,” said Lucy, frowning.
“If you’re going to tell me I can’t stay at Lil’s Place unless I give up the baby, I already know.”
“How? Did Mother Lil tell you? I promised not to say anything because she didn’t want to affect your decision.”
“No, but it’s obvious. A baby won’t work in an escort service. I realized that a long time ago, and it hasn’t affected my decision. I want the baby, and I want the baby in a good home. The two are irreconcilable. I can solve problems except when the problem affects me in a personal way. Then I’m conflicted. It’s my heart versus my mind, the story of my life, and I still can’t tell you which one will rule in the end.”
The days passed. Alicia remained in turmoil, but her time ran out. On February 22, 1976, three months following Alicia’s eighteenth birthday, Mother Lil, Lucy, Celia, and Cathy joined her at a small private hospital in San Francisco, where she experienced a natural childbirth, slow and painful—the kind that causes laboring mothers to scream obscenities at the world. She accepted the pain as just punishment for stupidity and betrayal. She relished the pain, a cleansing pain, the survival of which would enable the transition to a new life. She gave birth to a healthy baby boy who weighed eight pounds, two ounces, and measured twenty-two inches long.
The next morning Joanna joined the group in Alicia’s room. Celia tried to make light of a difficult moment by saying the baby looked completely white, and she had not seen that coming. Mother Lil looked at the edges of the baby’s ears and disagreed, saying he would eventually turn a little darker and wind up close to Alicia’s color. Everyone agreed on his beauty.
As the silence in the room became deafening, Alicia knew the final moment had arrived. She continued to agonize between her two choices. Lying in bed with the baby in her arms, she felt the desire to keep him more strongly than before. She squeezed her eyes shut and thrust her head from side to side, trying to shake loose, at the last possible moment, a brilliant idea. But brilliance would not come. She listened for her father’s voice—waiting, waiting, waiting—but she heard only the wail of a hungry newborn. Alicia decided, at that moment, to feed her baby one last time.
The baby latched onto Alicia’s nipple and greedily sucked her milk. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she rubbed and rocked her son. When he finished feeding, she turned him onto her chest and tapped his back, relishing the passage of time before he finally expelled. She smelled his breath. She put her ear next to his nose and listened to the cadence of his breathing. She gently rubbed his face against hers, tantalized by his soft skin. She put one of his hands in her mouth and tasted his tiny palm and fingers—all in an attempt to permanently capture the smell, sound, touch, taste, and sight of him, senses of association she desperately wanted to remember.
Her tears soaked into his blue blanket. Alicia kissed her newborn’s forehead one last time, and slowly lifted him to Joanna. Joanna took him and gazed sadly at Alicia, whose hands remained extended. As Joanna waited for a sign, Alicia clasped the sides of her face, but she finally forced a nod, and Joanna turned with the baby and left.
Alicia’s eyes grew large as she looked to the others. Her mouth opened wide, but she uttered no sound.
A pitiful sob burst from her as she jerked from side to side. “Mommy, Daddy, please forgive me. I’m so sorry.”
Alicia finally collapsed on her bed, crying uncontrollably. Lucy, Celia, Cathy, and Mother Lil circled her, but were unable to muster soothing words.
Suddenly, Alicia gained control. Accompanied by an overwhelming feeling of emptiness, she wiped away her tears. Her body stiffened and her jaw set tight, and she knew if she ever cried again, it would not be for many, many years.