Stranger

Lin

I was finally able to sit in my office, distraction free, to work on some lyrics that had been bouncing around in my head.  Vanessa had taken the boys out for the afternoon, knowing I was in writer's mode.  If I didn't get time to write every once in a while, I went crazy.  I momentarily glanced out my Washington Heights window to see my view of the Hudson River. I loved living in this town.  My phone started ringing, snapping out of my daydreaming.  It was an unknown number, but for whatever reason I decided to answer.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Is this Lin-Manuel Miranda?" A female voice asked.  I assumed it was a reporter and was prepared to hang up.

"Yes," I replied.  "How can I help you?"

"I'm Leslie Daniels.  I'm with New York Children's Services.  I'm in my office, staring at a birth certificate of a young lady who's currently in our care.  Are you friends with a Laura Thomas?"

I thought for a moment, racking my brain for why that name sounded familiar.  Then it occurred to me – I had a month-long fling with a woman named Laura probably a decade and a half ago.

"Umm...a long time ago.  Why?"

"She has a daughter," she explained.  "And your name is on the birth certificate as the father."

I sat up in my chair.  "Excuse me?"

"You're listed as this girl's father.  Nora Thomas.  She's currently in the care of the juvenile detention center because her mother was arrested.  She has no other family."

I was floored.  I was on someone's birth certificate?  How could I not know this?  My mind drifted back to 2004, when I was in my mid-20's and carefree.  In those days, I didn't have a steady girlfriend.  I bounced around a lot from girl to girl in those days.  More than I'd like to admit.

"Umm..okay...are you sure?" I asked.

"There aren't any other Lin-Manuel Mirandas in the area," she explained.  "But we'll need to take a DNA test to be sure."

"So, hold on-" I stopped her.  "How old is she?"

"She's thirteen," she explained.  "She's lived in Queens her whole life."

I was speechless.  I had another kid?

"So, could you come down to the juvenile detention center?" She asked, like she was asking me to go pick up some milk.

"Uh, yeah," I said, standing up.  "I'll be right there."

I hung up the phone and just stood there for a moment, incredibly confused.  This was not at all how I imagined my afternoon going.  As I pulled on some shoes, I kept trying to think about Laura.  Things hadn't ended badly between us.  It just seemed we'd gotten our fill of each other and we'd moved on.  I didn't understand why she wouldn't have told me she was pregnant with my child.

I plugged in the address for juvie in his phone and Google Maps led me there.  I walked into the building and asked to see Leslie Daniels.  She saw me immediately, inviting me back into her office.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Miranda," she said gesturing to the seat in front of her desk.  "Please sit down."

I sat, unsure of what to say or do.  She pulled out the birth certificate and showed me.  Sure enough, my name was in the box where it said 'father'.  Leslie also pulled out a file, with a picture paperclipped to the top.  My daughter.

I carefully extracted the photo, taking a closer look at it.  She had my dark features, with long, dark curly hair.  She didn't smile. She had my eyes.