First of all, I want you to know right now that I ain’t been feeling good all day so if for some reason I don’t make it to tomorrow don’t go blaming yourself cause I got your papers today. That ain’t what did it, baby. It was paint and gas and smoke or maybe just pure excitement at the thought of moving into my new place. But then again, I guess I can tell you that even though I was real happy about my new condo, deep down inside I was scared. Scared to leave this house we been living in all these years, and scared to go somewhere else by myself thinking I’m starting over. I didn’t want to start over. I liked it the way it was. But that ain’t true either. I wanted you to know that I understand why you left, Cecil. I do. And I know you ain’t no low-down dirty adultururous or however you say it. You ain’t never done nothing deliberate to hurt me and I appreciate that. I know I turned into a first-class bitch over these past five or ten years and I do believe that the change of life had a lot to do with it, but I didn’t know it at the time, and of course now, I know that they got medicine you can take to make you feel like your old self again. I do believe this was when I started turning against you and I guess you started turning to somebody else for comfort. I don’t blame you. I just want you to know how much joy you brought me over the years and how grateful I am to you for giving me four beautiful kids and that I loved you like you was a delicious apple, Cecil. You remember when we used to be nice to each other? Couldn’t get enough of each other? When we made each other laugh and smile? Well, I’m smiling now, Cecil. I’m smiling cause I hope you find some kinda happiness with that young woman and them kids. Don’t let Howie talk you outta enjoying her cause he ain’t got nobody. Our kids may not warm up to her at first, but give them some time and they’ll come around. If they don’t, to hell with them too. You do what makes Cecil feel good and help that girl with them kids. I didn’t give you a whole lotta credit or time the first time around but now you got another chance. So enjoy it. I’ll be honest with you, I hope you don’t love her with the same hot torch you had for me, but give her a low steady flame, the best part of you, and she’ll be happy. I hope you use some of the insurance money to get at least one of the Shacks back open, and if you can, change that stupid-ass name to something classy like “Cecil’s House of Barbecue” or “The Best BBQ in Vegas.” And try to open it in a decent neighborhood. White folks love barbeque too and you can trick them into thinking it’s gourmet food (the same way they do us when we spend a fortune on that mess they make that don’t taste like nothing), and black folks will drive to hell and back for some good barbeque some collard greens and potato salad and peach cobbler. Can that girl cook? Ain’t her people from Texas? If they are then she should know how to make a decent cobbler and at least a respectable sweet potato pie. And sell your sauce. Ask Paris to tell you how to do it. Let it sit right up there on the shelves at one of them gourmet grocery stores next to all them marinades you scared to try. And do me a few favors, Cecil. Try to see your own kids every now and then. Talk to them on the telephone. Let them get to know you so when you gone, you’ll be missed too. And you be happy. Would you do that for me, Cecil? For old times sake?