Mother Lil stared at Alicia as she dialed a number on her phone. “Lucy, this is Mother Lil,” she said. “I have you on the speakerphone because I’ve got Alicia in the office, and I need you to help me talk some sense into this little heifer.”
“Hey, Mother Lil,” said Lucy. “It’s good to hear your voice. Licia, what’s happening?”
“I think I’ve upset our divine mother,” said Alicia, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to. I just told her that graduation is no big deal. I’m happy to get my degree, but Stanford can mail it to me. I’m starting Berkeley in the fall, and the Ph.D. in economics is what I’m really after.”
“Lucy, I went to your graduation,” said Mother Lil, “and I’m going to Alicia’s. Here it is only January, Licia, and you’re already done. It only took you three and a half years, and you were working the entire time. Girl, this is cause for celebration.”
“I just thought because my family won’t be there . . . well, you know.”
“Just because your Chesapeake family knows nothing about this is no cause to punish the rest of us,” said Mother Lil. “I want to see you in one of those pretty robes. I want to see the president or dean, whoever he is, hand you your degree. Honey, you’re going to do this for me if I have to drag you across that stage myself!”
“You know what my nickname is for her?” said Lucy, laughing.
“I can think of a few choice names for her right now,” said Mother Lil.
“I call her Tough Nut because she won’t crack, even under pressure. Alicia, at least be reasonable and listen to my offer. If you participate in the ceremony, I’ll be done with business school by then. I’ll fly in from Philadelphia, and I can spend a little time with both of you before heading to Hong Kong.”
“Done!” said Alicia, slapping Mother Lil’s desk.
“Oh, we got us a reunion going on now!” said Mother Lil. “Thank you, Lucy.” She brought a hand to her chin. “All the girls will want to go, except maybe Danielle. So we’ll close down the shop for a day. I’ll have Shelby take me and Mrs. Jefferson. Licia, when they call your name, I’m going to hop out of my seat screaming, and me, Shelby, and Mrs. Jefferson will start doing the bump with our big ole heavy-duty rumps.”
“And afterwards,” said Lucy, “I’ll host a Chinese banquet for our distinguished graduate of the Stanford Class of 1983.”
“Oh, Lord,” said Mother Lil, “that means I’ll have to listen to Shelby try to speak Cantonese. He could be cussing me out, and I would never know.”
Alicia and Lucy burst into laughter.
“Yeah, this is what I’m talking about,” said Mother Lil. “We gone have us a party, y’all!”
On the Monday following graduation exercises, Alicia waited with Lucy at the San Francisco airport, gazing at an empty tarmac.
“Do me a favor,” she said as she handed her friend a manila envelope. “At some point after your flight lands in Hong Kong, mail this to my parents, but without identifying yourself. Their address is inside.”
Lucy weighed the envelope in her hands. “What do we have here?” she asked. “This is obviously not another card. It feels like a long letter.”
“It’s an extra copy of my graduation program.” Alicia nibbled on a fingernail as she waited for Lucy’s reaction.
“Okay, I guess the obvious question is, if you want them to know where you’ve been all these years, why don’t you go to Chesapeake and take the program with you?”
“I have mixed emotions about this. Deep down, I don’t feel worthy enough to return. Yeah, I have a college degree, but I live at Lil’s Place and date men for a living. Those are difficult facts to explain, added to all the problems I’ve already created. Yet maybe I’m wrong—maybe my view of what’s transpired is off. Maybe my parents have recovered from the past, and they will forgive and accept me as I try to forgive and accept myself. So this is both a test and a peace offering. As soon as they see Stanford, I know they can find me if they want to, but I just hope they find me by writing Stanford rather than searching for my exact location. I think sending the program from Hong Kong makes that more likely.”
“And what if they don’t contact you? Are you prepared for that?”
Alicia heaved a sigh. “Then I will have flunked the test. Either it means they’re holding a grudge and don’t want to see me, or they’re respecting what I’ve always said: I’ll come home when I feel I’ve made up for my sins. I haven’t done that yet, but maybe my father can be like your father.”
Lucy smiled sadly. “Alicia, I’ll be praying for you.”
Sandra pulled into her driveway after returning from the beauty shop. She pinched the door open, trying to protect her freshly painted nails. Since Ben had taken Mama Tilman to run errands, she flip-flopped into the house knowing she would be home alone.
A pile of new mail lay waiting on the table in the entryway. She swooped up the stack and strolled toward the kitchen, where she spread the mail on a counter, still guarding her manicure. When she noticed an envelope with a postal stamp from Hong Kong, she paused. The envelope had been addressed to Dr. and Mrs. Benton Tilman, but listed no return address. Gingerly she used a knife to open it.
Who do we know with a child graduating from Stanford? she wondered as she inspected the cover of the program. Sandra shrugged and started to cast the booklet aside, but she stopped when she saw the date for graduation exercises. This is odd, she thought, a graduation program sent after the fact from Hong Kong?
Sandra opened the program and perused the order of the ceremony. Then she scanned the list of honors graduates and froze. A red check mark directed her eye to a familiar name, but one she had never expected to see in a Stanford graduation program. Alicia Tilman stood out among many, having received her degree summa cum laude with Phi Beta Kappa honors in economics.
Sandra felt faint, holding the program in one hand while grabbing a chair with the other. She eventually made her way to the den and collapsed on the couch, staring at her daughter’s name. She thumped her arm hard enough to come out of a dream, if a dream it was, and then she smiled.
As time passed, Sandra remained on the couch, lost in a world of confusion. She waited for Ben and Mama Tilman to come home and help sort through the mystery of Hong Kong, California, and four years spent at an expensive, prestigious educational institution—without parental assistance.
When Ben and Mama Tilman finally entered, she knew she was sending conflicting signals. She looked up from the couch, smiling and crying.
“Sandy, what’s wrong, honey?” asked Ben.
Sandra handed Ben the envelope and the graduation program. He remained standing as he peered at both. When his eyes grew large, Sandra looked at Mama Tilman and grinned.
“What is it?” asked Mama Tilman, glancing back and forth between Ben and Sandra.
Ben gave her the program, joining Sandra in a grin. Mama Tilman found her reading glasses in her purse and followed her finger through the names. “I don’t see anyone who means anything to me,” she said.
“Go to the top,” said Ben, “next to the check mark.”
“Oh,” said Mama Tilman, jerking her head upward. Her jaw dropped. “That’s my girl!” she said, breaking into applause. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! True to her word, she is. That’s my Alicia!”
“How on earth did she pay for Stanford?” asked Sandra.
“She probably declared her independence from us and applied for financial aid,” said Ben. “A place like Stanford grants scholarships based on need.”
“So, do you think this means she’s coming home?”
“I hope so,” said Mama Tilman.
“I hope so, too,” said Ben.
“But if she doesn’t, we can probably find her now,” said Sandra.
“Yep,” said Ben. “We can trace her through Stanford, unless she has them fooled, too.”
“You all need to think about whether that’s a good idea,” said Mama Tilman. “It has been a long time now. Alicia is a grown woman. When she’s ready to deal with us, she will.”
“And that could be tomorrow or the next day,” said Ben. “Let’s give her some time before we do anything.”
“Oh, my God,” said Sandra, raising her arms in the air. “My baby could finally be coming home.”
A few weeks after receiving Alicia’s graduation program, Ben and Sandra sat in Ben’s study, disappointed that they had heard nothing further from Alicia.
“Sandy, I’ve been thinking about this,” said Ben. “Alicia shared her accomplishment in an indirect way, which could mean she wishes no further contact. The envelope came from Hong Kong. That’s a ruse. Alicia’s not in Hong Kong any more than she’s been in Georgia or New York. She’s in Northern California, likely where she’s been all along. Let’s call Kevin Clark. Maybe he can help us. I want to know exactly where she is. Even if we do nothing, we should know how to contact her if there’s an emergency of some kind.”
“I agree,” said Sandra.
After Ben checked his Rolodex, he turned on his newly installed speakerphone and dialed their former investigator.
“Hey, Doc,” answered Clark in his raspy voice. “How are you and the family? Do you have any news on your daughter?”
“No, but that’s why I’m calling. We’ve received some important information. Alicia just graduated from Stanford University. I suspect she’s been somewhere in Northern California all along.”
“Stanford? You’re kidding.”
“No. Can you recommend someone in California who can track her down?”
“I could, Dr. Tilman, but if you don’t mind, I like to finish my jobs. How about if I head out to California and find her for you myself? I won’t even charge my normal fee for the trip. I’ve always been a little embarrassed about coming up empty for you in the past.”
Ben looked to Sandra, who nodded her assent.
“That would be great,” said Ben. “I don’t want Alicia to know we’re looking for her, so please be discreet. Just find out where she is and anything else you can tell us.”
“I will do exactly that, sir. Expect to hear back from me soon.”
A month after his conversation with Kevin Clark, Ben sat in his study, opening a legal-sized envelope he had just received by special delivery from the investigator. Sandra leaned over his shoulder as he withdrew a large photograph, a letter, and an official-looking document. Ben immediately held up the picture and viewed Alicia for the first time in eight years.
“Look at her!” said Sandra. “Our daughter is all grown up and just as pretty as ever. I wonder if that house she’s leaving is where she lives? That man holding on to her seems so much older. I hope he’s not her boyfriend.”
Ben opened the letter, which Sandra read along with him in silence.
Dear Dr. Tilman:
I am pleased to report that I’ve located your daughter. She lives at a home known as Lil’s Place, shown in the background of the enclosed photo. As best I can tell, she has been living at this address since 1975, the year she left Chesapeake.
Lil’s Place is licensed in San Francisco as a women’s shelter. Unfortunately, the women’s shelter is nothing more than a cover for an escort service. Your daughter is professionally known as Alicia Du Bois. I suspect my early difficulty in finding her is a result of her use of this name.
Quite frankly, I’m suspicious of escort services. I’ve encountered them before, usually doing surveillance for divorce cases. My experience is that the true nature of the business is always prostitution. But I don’t rely on assumptions or personal biases. I have run a search. Your daughter has no criminal arrest record. However, she is the most celebrated young woman at Lil’s Place and well known as an exclusive, high-priced escort. Posing as a potential customer, I confirmed this information with the proprietor of the establishment. She denied prostitution, but they always do over the phone. She seemed angry at me for even asking, then said she would get me “straight” when and if we met in person. Need I say more?
It pains me to provide this news. Should you wish to contact your daughter, the address and telephone number for Lil’s Place is included in my official report. Of course, I will hold this information in absolute confidentiality.
Your humble servant,
Kevin Clark
Ben slammed the letter on his desk and looked up at Sandra, who tugged at her hair. “Now everything makes sense,” she said. “Otherwise, how on earth could she survive on her own at seventeen? How on earth could she pay for Stanford? My daughter—a prostitute!”
Sandra backed away and turned a full circle before finding the couch. “What did I do wrong? I raised her the way my mother raised me. I trained her to be a lady, not a slut. I put her in all the important social clubs. I sent her to finishing school in Richmond, the same one I went to. My mother had me reading all the important classics when I was just a teenager. I made sure Alicia read everything I read. How could she do this to us? This is the worst kind of slap in the face. She’s rejected me as a mother, and she’s rejected you as a father.”
“Wait a minute, Sandy,” said Ben, trying to keep calm. “Maybe there’s a mistake.”
“Look at her,” shrieked Sandra, hopping off the couch and snatching the picture. She held it up and pointed at the man with Alicia. “Look at the way this bastard is looking at her, like he’s about to mount her right there in public.”
“I admit none of this looks good, but just hold on for a second.”
“You can’t rationalize your way out of this, Ben Tilman. Face it, our daughter is a common whore! How in the hell is she going to make us proud? This is why every damn communication from her has been designed to keep us from finding her, so we wouldn’t learn the truth.”
“Surely she must have known we could track her through Stanford. So how do you explain that she would open the door now, if she doesn’t want the truth discovered?”
“She finally made a mistake, overjoyed in her academic success.” Sandra returned to the couch as tears streamed down her face. “I got over Alicia’s pregnancy a long time ago,” she said. “I even got over who she laid with. Then I got over the possibility that she might have had a baby. And I even got over all the damage to our reputations and the sacrifices we had to make after your practice went sour for a while. But this—this I can’t get over. Don’t take me wrong. I will love my daughter until the day I die. But I never, ever want to see her again. I prefer to remember her as she once was—my darling baby girl, smart, pretty, and proper.”
“Sandra, honey, don’t say that. You’re upset, and I understand how you feel, I truly do, but listen to me. We both know that Alicia has never been able to lie to me about anything. As a little girl, whenever she tried, I could always tell. Over time, she figured that out and stopped trying. She’s not the daughter we last saw, but she’s still the daughter who can’t lie to her father. If she ever comes home, I guarantee you I will get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, this has to stay between us. My mother and your parents would die if they knew, and Benny doesn’t need to know. Let him remember his sister on his own terms.”
Sandra’s lips tightened to a thin line. “Alicia will never be a topic of conversation for me again.”
Ben rose from his seat to wipe Sandra’s eyes. She gave him a reluctant hug and left the room.
So Alicia attempted to preserve the Tilman name by using Du Bois, thought Ben. She could have assumed any other name, but instead she tarnishes the name of a prolific black scholar and prominent political leader. Ben paced the floor of his office. Alicia would not have sent a graduation program unless she wanted to be found. This was no mistake; this was a strategic decision. But why would she send this information if she’s a prostitute? Something doesn’t smell right.
Ben stared at Clark’s detailed report. Should I? he wondered. He picked up the document, searching for Alicia’s telephone number.
“Lil’s Place,” answered a youthful-sounding woman.
“Alicia Doo-Boys, please.”
“I’m sorry, but Alicia Du-Bwa is not here.”
So that’s how she pronounces it, thought Ben. “I’m calling from out of town to arrange a personal engagement with her.”
“Sir, Mother Lil arranges all of our dates. Would you like to speak to her?”
Mother Lil? She sounds like a damn madam.
“Stay with me for a moment,” said Ben. “An associate recommended Alicia as someone who could solve the woes of a desperate businessman. I need special help, special handling.”
“Mother Lil may give her to you. Alicia has a reputation for pleasing businessmen. That’s one of the reasons she’s the most expensive girl in the house. Would you like to talk to Mother Lil?”
Ben banged the handset down on the phone cradle. My God! I named her Alicia because it stands for what I value, noble virtues and the truth—but her actions are far from noble, and how is she ever going to be able to tell me the truth?
A few months following her graduation, Alicia sat in her room, thinking about her parents. She picked up the phone and called Betty’s number.
“Hey, girl,” said Alicia when Betty answered.
“What’s happening, Ms. San Francisco?”
“Nothing much. How are things in Chesapeake? Have you seen my folks lately?”
“Things are fine, and I saw your parents and Ms. Marjorie in church last Sunday. Everyone looks good.”
“I’m wondering whether they’ve said anything about my graduation. I sent a program home.”
“Ms. Marjorie told my grandmother that you graduated, and my grandmother said Ms. Marjorie seemed pleased.”
“Did she say anything about my parents looking for me?”
“No, and my grandmother isn’t the type to pry.”
Alicia slouched in her seat. “Thanks, Betty. I was just wondering.”
“So, since you’ve graduated, are you coming home? I can’t wait to see you.”
“That’s what I’m working on right now,” said Alicia, and she ended the call.