Except give her up.
Once Ng?c Anh’s father had married, his wife had discovered she couldn’t have babies, and they’d offered to raise Ng?c Anh as their own. Again, M? had turned down an offer everyone expected her to accept. They’d called her selfish. His family could give Ng?c Anh all the things she needed.
But what about love? Love mattered, and no one could love her baby like M? could. No one. She felt it in her heart.
Still, from time to time, she worried she’d done the wrong thing.
“If you don’t like him,” her mom said, “you can divorce him after you get your green card and marry someone else.”
“I can’t marry him just for a green card.” He was a person, not a stack of paper, and if he decided to marry her, it would be because she’d succeeded in seducing him, because he cared about her. She couldn’t use someone that way. That would make her just as bad as Ng?c Anh’s dad.
Her mom nodded like she could hear the thoughts in M?’s head. “What happens if you go and you can’t change his mind?”
“I come back at the end of the summer.”
A disgusted sound came from the back of her mom’s throat. “I can’t believe you need to think about this. You have nothing to lose.”
As M? looked at the black screen on her phone, a thought occurred to her. “C? Nga said he doesn’t want a family. I have Ng?c Anh.”
Her mom rolled her eyes. “What young man wants a family? If he loves you, he’ll love Ng?c Anh.”
“It doesn’t work that way, and you know it. If a man knows you have a baby, most of the time he’s not interested.” And if he was interested, all he wanted was sex.
“Then don’t tell him right away. Give him time to fall for you, and tell him later,” her mom said.
M? shook her head. “That feels wrong.”
“If he tells you he loves you but backs out of marriage because you have a daughter, you don’t want him anyway. But this woman knows her son, and she chose you. You have to try. At the very least, you get a whole summer in America. Do you know how lucky you are? Don’t you want to see America? Where in America is it?”
“She said California, but I don’t think I can stand being away that long.” M? brushed her fingers across her daughter’s baby-soft cheek. She’d never been away from home longer than a day. What if Ng?c Anh thought she’d abandoned her?
Her mom’s forehead creased with thought, and she got up to dig through a pile of boxes kept in the corner. They were her mom’s personal things, and no one was allowed to open them. Growing up, M? used to snoop through them when no one was looking, especially the bottom one. When her mom opened that box specifically and rustled through its contents, M?’s heart started sprinting.
“That’s where your dad is from. Here, look.” Her mom handed her a yellowed photo of a man with his arm thrown around her shoulders. M? had spent countless hours peering at this photo, holding it close, looking at it upside down, squinting, anything to confirm the man’s eyes were green and he was, in fact, her father, but nothing worked. The picture had been taken from too far away. His eyes could be any color. They appeared brown, if she was being honest with herself.
The lettering on his shirt, however, was easy to read. It clearly said Cal Berkeley.
“Is that what ‘Cal’ stands for?” she asked. “California?”
Her mom nodded. “I looked it up. It’s a famous university. Maybe when you’re there, you can go see it. Maybe … you can try to find him.”
M?’s heart jumped so hard her fingers tingled. “Are you finally going to tell me his name?” she asked, her voice whisper thin. All she knew was “Phil.” That was the name her grandma whispered with hate when she and M? were alone. That Phil. Mister Phil. Your mother’s Phil.