Page 87 of Game Change

“Let’s not go crazy,” Heath says, and Uncle Milton whacks him upside the head.

I’ll have to see if Brynne wants to come. My uncle is no longer one of her favorite people; he refuses to acknowledge that. “And you, Heath,” Uncle Milton says while he smiles at our nephew.

Heath is my sister’s only child. She was in her mid-thirties when she had him. She and her husband tried for years, and nine months after Heath was born, her husband left her for another woman. They moved to Montana, and Heath barely saw him. Like Uncle Milton did with me and my sister, he became Heath’s surrogate father.

“Yes, Uncle Milty,” Heath says.

“I want you to be yourself, too. It’s okay to go out.” I shake my head, look to the ceiling, and hope and pray he’s not bringing up what I think he’s bringing up.

“Oh, where are we going?” Heath whispers. “I know! Let’s go to that rooftop restaurant that spins.” He pulls out his phone. “I’m going to make us a reservation. I guess Brynne can come, too, if you want.” He rolls his eyes and scrunches his lips together.

“What the hell is he talking about?” Uncle Milton asks.

“You used the wrong term. It’s come out, not go out,” I say gently. I look at Heath and nod. If my uncle’s going to do this, I can show my nephew support.

All Heath does is look at his phone and swipe. “Three or four?” he asks without looking up. “I can personally use some guy time, but if Uncle Paddy wants—"

“Heath, I’m trying to tell you it’s okay to come out,” Uncle Milton snaps. “Put the damn phone down. All you young people always have your face in a screen. You’ll go cross-eyed.”

Heath slides the phone into his pocket and looks from me to my uncle. “Come out?” he asks, and we both nod. Uncle Milton goes so far as to open his arms. “As in out thecloset?” he asks, and we nod again.

He goes into Uncle Milton’s arms, and I sigh in relief. Uncle Milton taps his back and says, “It’s okay, my boy, and if your mother or Colin the First has a problem, I will kick their uptight behinds all over this city. Don’t you worry about them.”

“Uncle Milton,” Heath whispers. “I appreciate it, and I’d love to see you kick ass, but I’m one hundred percent straight.” I look at my uncle, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“It’s okay, Heath. You don’t have to pretend,” I reassure him. “We love and accept you.”

“It’s true.” He pulls away. “I like tits,” he whispers, and my brows climb to my forehead. “And ass.” He looks around. “Big ones, though not as big as Ernestine’s.”

“What?” I ask, still not believing him. “And why are you looking at Ernestine’s ass?

“I love women. Just because a man likes moisturizers, pedicures, and cashmere robes does not make him gay.” He opens his arms so Uncle Milton can hug him again, but our uncle swats his arms.

“Then what the hell did you hug me for?”

“Because I love hugs. I’m a man in tune with his emotions, Uncle Milty. Mom’s had me in therapy since I was ten. I embrace myself. Also, I love vaginas.” He wiggles his brows and rubs his hands together.

Uncle Milton starts to cough.

“Are you sure?” our uncle asks.

“Hells yes. If Zendaya or Halle Bailey walked through those doors, they can get it.” He gestures at his tall, lanky body. When he thrusts his hips, Uncle Milton takes a step back.

“Who? Are those women? And don’t break one of your bony hips, boy,” Uncle Milton warns.

“Yes,” Heath says, “beautiful women, and I don’t know this personally, but I’m sure they smell good. I’m a sucker for a good-smelling woman.”

“And they’re real women?” he asks.

“As opposed to what, Uncle Milton?” I ask.

“Women with tits and nice butts,” Heath whispers. He pulls out his phone and shows Milton pictures of them. “And if I was into older women, Beyoncé can get this too.”

“Oh, her I’ve heard of.” Uncle Milton nods in approval. “And these vaginas you like,” he begins, and I groan, “you’ve been in one before?”

“Uncle Milton. Enough—” I begin, but Heath interrupts me.

“Three of them,” he whispers. “Though not on the same night.”

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