Page 63 of Blue Moon

“What? Why?”

“I just do. I have something for him. Take me to him, okay?”

She shrugged her shoulders, and we headed to the lobby in silence.

Sitting alone, playing on an older model phone was a boy about the age of four. When he saw his mom, he shuddered.

“I’m sorry, Mama. I didn’t disturb nobody. I was quiet.”

“Stop talking. My friend wants to meet you.”

My boyhood passed before my eyes. Sitting in lobbies, dropped off at friends’ houses and forgotten, sitting outside until it was pitch black outside, each time waiting for my mom to entertain her friends.

But then I looked closer at this boy. This blond-haired lad with light-blue eyes and a sad smile.

It couldn’t be.

I whispered to Lila, “How old is he?”

“Four.”

My chest constricted. Four. I had slept with her five years ago.

I took a step back. Could this boy be my son? The math worked out.

“Lila, could he be my kid?”

She looked at me with a cold-stone stare. “I don’t know. Maybe. I was with a lot of guys at that time.”

My world was closing in on me. “How could you not tell me that I could be a father? You have my number. We used condoms. I always use condoms.” Without fail. Because I never, ever wanted to bring a child into the world and abandon him the way my father abandoned me.

“Well, I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t going to ask a bunch of men to take DNA tests.” She looked at her boy, without a single hint of maternal love. “If he’s yours, you can take him.”

“Wait, what? You want to give away your son?”

“Hey. I said if he’s yours. I’m struggling really bad right now. I don’t have time for him. I don’t have close family to help out with him, and I want to travel. I never wanted to be a mother.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “How could you just offer to give him up? Don’t you love him?” I raised my voice, and I realized that I was yelling at my mom as much as I was yelling at Lila.

“Hey, you have no idea what this has been like for me. Being a parent sucks. I wish I’d never had him. If I had figured out who his dad was years ago, I would’ve given up my parental rights then and there. But I didn’t. I never thought it was you because we used protection, but you’re right, he does look like you. The summer that I was crowned Miss Cherry, I was with so many men. His dad could be anyone. But if he’s your boy, and you want to raise him, be my guest. I want my freedom back. I’d never hurt him, but I’m not cut out to be a mom.”

I never prayed. Ever. But I made a silent prayer that this boy was really my son.

“What’s his name?”

“Neil.”

Neil. Like Neil Armstrong, the first man to walk on the moon.

Was this a sign?

“Can I talk to him?”

“Knock yourself out.”

I knelt down next to him, this little boy who could possibly be my son. “Hey, buddy. My name is Sawyer. I’m a Blue Angel. Do you know what that is?”

His eyes widened. “You fly in those crazy planes and do flips?”