When Everything Is Blue(36)

“I didn’t come for money,” I tell him. “I’ve got a job.”

“Good for you. So what do you want?”

I shrug and glance down at his cards. I didn’t think much about what we would talk about. We got along well at the Easter party, but there were a lot of distractions. This is just him and me in a room that smells like death. “Thought you might be up for a game of gin rummy.”

He scoffs at that. “You look like a shifty sonuvabitch to me.”

I laugh out loud. I can’t believe his mouth. “You don’t look all that honest yourself.”

Uncle Theo grins or grimaces, it’s hard to tell. “You don’t win at cards by being a schmuck.”

I nod. “That’s true.” A nurse comes over then, a woman in her mid-forties, and asks my uncle who his visitor is. (Me.) My uncle shrugs and won’t answer her, so I introduce myself. Her name is Gloria, and she has an accent. I ask her where she’s from, and she says Trinidad. She asks me if I’d like some water, and I tell her I would, thank you, that I skateboarded here and I’m a little thirsty. She smiles like I’m an upstanding citizen and a good nephew for visiting my uncle in the old folks’ home. As soon as she walks away, my uncle leans in and says, “Now there’s a dark one.”

I wonder if there’s some reason for his racism or if it’s just residual, something he acquired at an early age, like my distaste for asparagus. Uncle Theo lived in a condo in Palm Beach during his later years, golfing and boozing it up at the country club with the other old, white dudes. He also never married, though I vaguely remember a couple of live-in girlfriends, all white women.

“Do the white nurses take better care of you?” I ask.

“No,” he admits. “They’re all cocksuckers here.”

I’m glad he at least has the good sense to keep his voice down. Gloria comes back with paper cups of water for both of us, even though my uncle didn’t want any. I thank her and my uncle only frowns and says, “Where’s Manuel?”

Gloria smiles knowingly and checks her wristwatch. “He’ll be here in about twenty minutes. Is there anything I can get you before then?”

“No, but make sure he’s here,” he says gruffly.

Gloria nods and smiles at me like I’m in on some inside joke. She rests her hand on his shoulder in a gesture that seems genuinely affectionate. “I will do that, Captain Wooten.”

Captain Wooten. My uncle is with it enough to demand they use his proper title. And who is this Manuel? A fellow patient, a veteran like my uncle? Perhaps they have a standing card game in the rec room. My uncle didn’t seem like he was looking forward to it, exactly, but it clearly matters to him that this Manuel character shows up.

“Who’s Manuel?” I ask him when Gloria walks away.

“None of your damn business. You got any food on you?”

I wonder if he remembers how we bonded over Paula’s Pit Barbecue potato salad. “No, but I’ll bring you something next time.”

“The chow here is terrible.”

I don’t doubt it. It’s probably all tasteless and soft, like salty baby food. “Have you seen my dad lately?”

“Who’s your dad?”

“Your nephew, William.”

“William?” Uncle Theo’s eyes squint a little like he’s trying to place him. “No. Haven’t seen him. He still do teeth?”

I smile at the way he says it. “Yeah, he still does teeth. I haven’t seen much of him lately either. His wife, Susan, is pregnant. It’s a boy. They’re naming him William. That’d make him William the fourth, I guess.”

“William was my father’s name.”

William Wooten II. He died before I was born. Neither my uncle nor my grandmother talk about him much. He owned and managed a small chain of five-and-dime stores in the Northeast called Wooten’s that were started by his father and later sold by my grandfather George, who my grandmother married a billion years ago and who died when I was little. From what I understand, William II worked a lot and was also a high-functioning alcoholic.

“Did you get along with your dad?” I ask Uncle Theo.

He shrugs, “Eh.” Then shakes his head. “No.”

“Was he an asshole?” If Uncle Theo can say cocksucker, then I can say asshole.

“He didn’t have much use for me. He liked my brother George.”

That’s news to me. “My dad and I don’t get along so well either,” I tell him, revealing more than I ever intended in coming here.

“Is he an asshole?”

“Yeah, a little bit.”

Uncle Theo shrugs. “Must run in the family.”

I laugh. I don’t know if he realizes what he’s saying or if he’s just being agreeable, but it does make me feel a little better that I’m not the only one having a hard time of it.

A male nurse comes up to us then, short and chubby, and in his midthirties if I had to guess. He rubs his hands together as he greets my uncle with a little bow and a deferential “Good afternoon, Captain Wooten.” Then he turns to me. “My name’s Manuel.” He offers his hand to me in a very gentlemanly gesture. My limited-range gaydar goes off immediately as I shake the guy’s hand and eye him up and down. He’s cute in a cuddly sort of way. His demeanor seems very gentle, and he has sweet brown eyes with long lashes, kind of like a Jersey cow.