She rose, meandered off, brought a whole new one without my having answered. I sat staring at my lap. I should’ve worn a bathing suit. What did I expect to learn from her this late? In the next long silent minute, I drank most of my old drink, in order to drain the new one.

I wanted to report to her how, not a year ago, while I was trying to trim the hedge, my new electric trimmer got away from me. Took quite a toucan bite out of my pale left wrist. I decided it’d do okay without being stitched. Months later, during my annual physical, our family doctor turned over my arm. “What’s all this? Keloid healing? I’ve never noticed that in you before. You have African or Middle Eastern ancestry? Because some of my Jewish patients show this bumpy, shiny kind of mending. See the gleam on that?”

…

The salt air smelled metallic this far out, then its odor went as green as leaves. The scent of a jungle blown out this far. A sailboat passed, its sailors—one bronzed young family—waved, kids and all. From More Trouble’s lower deck, a good laugh rose concerning some well-played hand of cards. Buck called, “Grace? We got a couple of unbeatable young con-women down here! I swear these girls’ll own your boat before we get the dern thing back ashore.”

“So you came with a list, Meadows. That it? Come to grill the elder-hostel tramp? That it?” Grace now offered me a cigarette.

“No,” I said. “I like your rum-based drink. And I’m touched you bought my books and kept Clyde’s Bible gift. I’m glad you’re so happy down here. And I like Buck, I do. And I see why you’d marry a guy like him twice. And you’ve both been so sweet to the girls (though I could live without more news about my wife’s libido), umkay? But surely I deserve a few straight answers. You were there and grown. I was there but really wasn’t quite conscious yet. Aren’t I entitled to figure out a couple more things about my life before it’s over? Did you ever even know our Clyde was half black?”

“Was have-a-what?,” she sat up only slightly. She removed her sunglasses. Grace studied me as if my head had just become a smiling dolphin’s. “Look, son, you may think I’ve been married so often I’ve had a guy from every country. ‘United Nations Gracie.’ Not to sound too prejudiced but, like you, I grew up in the Old South. And to my knowledge I have not yet married me a colored fellow. Never say never, of course. But if so, you’d be the first to hear. I’d sure tell you if your own dad was black or ‘African-American’ or whatever we’re supposed to call them this year….”