ONE MONTH LATER

“W hy are you making that stank ass face like my soup nasty? That’s top-of-the-line shit right there. If they sold that shit in stores, it would be at least fifteen dollars a cup,” Mr . Man boasted.

We were in the living room of my house, and I was on the couch with the throw blanket wrapped around me because I was freezing cold. He stood in front of me with the steaming bowl of homemade chicken soup that he’d just made for me. It was kind of salty, which is why I’d made that face. Hearing him talk shit and boast about a soup that was terrible had me releasing a hoarse laugh because it was just like him to still boast when he needed to keep quiet. I would have rather he made me some Campbell's soup from the jar and just put it in the microwave for me.

“Mr . Man , that junk is salty. What the hell did you put in there?” I asked, looking at him like he was trying to kill me.

He sucked his teeth and backed up some. “Salty ? This shit is good as fuck. You want me to put the Campbells in the microwave for you, then?” he asked.

“Yes , please,” I responded, and he just shook his head like he couldn’t believe this.

“A nigga been in that kitchen slaving on that soup for you, only for you to talk about you don’t like it. See how you do a nigga, Bay -Bay ? Swear you do me wrong,” he said, faking like he was hurt.

I didn’t have much energy, so I just laughed lowly and lay back on the couch, resting my head on one of the throw pillows.

Before Dionte walked out of the room, he leaned down and kissed me on my forehead. I lay on my side, cuddled under the blanket, and closed my eyes. My life was in its final stages. I felt it now, and I had accepted that I didn’t have much time left. To tell you the truth, I was perfectly fine with that. I was tired, and I wanted to rest.

“Bay -Bay , sit up,” Dionte called out after I’d dozed off on the couch.

I didn’t even fully sit up; I just turned my head to look at him. There was a small wooden table in front of me that went with the rustic theme that I had in my living room. That’s where he’d taken a seat as he held the soup in a bowl. The table wasn’t far from the couch, so it was easy for him to extend his hand and pass me the soup. I really didn’t have much of an appetite for anything these days. It was hard for me to keep a lot of food down, and to be honest, I hadn’t really been out of the house much lately because my body just wouldn’t allow it.

The coaches at my studio had been running things in my absence. At the end of the day, this was a business, and parents were paying their hard-earned money for their children to dance for me, so I had Adria draw up an email that I read over before she sent it off. The email basically let the parents know what was going on with me and that I was taking a step back from the studio. Just this week alone, I’d received so many flowers, cards, and balloons sent to my house from my dancers and their families, just wishing me well.

I had a conversation on the phone with Adria a couple of days ago, and she told me how the kids at the studio all had a bad breakdown once those emails went out, and they learned of my being sick. It broke my heart because those were my babies, and I never wanted to share this with them, but I wasn’t getting any better, and they deserved to know because they were asking about me every day.

“Got world famous soup in the kitchen, and you eating this. You tripping,” Mr . Man stated, still unable to let it go.

“Dionte , it was too salty. Don’t give that to my son,” I hoarsely told him.

Dakari wasn’t home right now. One of his teammates was having something tonight at one of those trampoline arcades for his birthday, and he was there with friends. My mom came over and dropped him off because Dionte was there with me. That man hadn’t left my side in well over two weeks. He had basketball games that he needed to be there to play in, but he’d taken a leave. No one probably wanted to face it, but I was in my final days, and he wanted to be with me. Although I’d told him time and time again to go back and play, so he could get that ring, he wasn’t trying to hear anything I said.

“That’s all I want,” I let him know, barely eating any of the soup that he’d given to me. He was able to feed me a good two spoonfuls.

“One more spoonful, Bay -Bay , and that’s it,” he reasoned right before he blew on the soup and placed it to my lips.

I opened my mouth, accepted the food, and then laid my head back, basically letting him know I was done eating and didn’t want anything else.

He set the bowl on the table next to him and stared at me with a smile on his face that showed off his deep dimples. This man would forever be the most handsome man in the world to me. Dionte had on a black V -neck top, and I could see just a bit of the tattoos he had on his chest. His arms were out, showing off his big muscles and the tattoos that were there as well. He wore black Polo sweats, and there were black socks on his feet. Because he hadn’t left my side, his hair had grown out in the two weeks that he’d been with me. His nice, beautiful, jet-black hair that was usually in waves had grown out to a mini fro, and the facial hair he sported was so long and thick as well. As manly as he looked, he was still so beautiful to me, and I would forever be thankful to God that I got the chance to have him in my life for the twenty years that I was blessed with him.

“What ? God did right by putting me in your life, huh?” he cockily asked.

I laughed and rolled my eyes at him. “You will forever be the cockiest person I know. You’re passing that on to our son, too. You can’t tell him nothing,” I let out.

“As he should. You know you're still the most beautiful woman in the world to me, right?” he asked.

“I hope so,” I softly responded.

“Hell yeah. There will never be another Serenity Reed ,” he hyped me, which caused a weak smile to appear on my face.

Dionte had the TV on YouTube , playing old-school jams that neither of us had been paying attention to for the last hour or so that he’d had it on. Suddenly , Luther Vandross’s “Bad Boy /Having a Party ” came on, and Dionte looked at me with a gleam in his eyes as he stood up from the table and grabbed the remote to turn the TV up some.

“Ahhhhh shit. Bay -Bay , this used to be our shit back in college. Come on, dance with me,” he pleaded, extending his arm out for me to grab.

I lay on the couch, tickled at the view of Mr . Man trying to dance. Dionte didn’t dance. His hood ass would just bob his head. Even back when we were younger and would hit up clubs together, he would get out on the dance floor with me, and I would be the one grinding all on him. He would have his hands on my waist, holding onto me, while I did all the work, so to lie there and witness him trying to bust a move had me cracking up.

“Dionte , what the hell are you doing?” I weakly asked through laughs.

“Show a nigga something, then. Come on,” he extended his hand again.

I didn’t move, so he came over, pulled the throw blanket from around my body, and he was so gentle as he lifted me in his arms and stood me in front of him. My legs wobbled as I stood before him because I was so weak. The silk Victoria’s Secret pajamas that at one point used to cling to me were pretty much wearing me as they hung off my body. I had a white beanie on, covering the bald head that I now had. The majority of my hair had fallen out, so I had Dionte go ahead and just shave off the little that was left two days ago.

I stood and reached out for Dionte’s hand that he had in front of me, and my frail, weak body moved along with him. Although it was causing me a great deal of pain to do so, I still did it because I wanted to give Dionte this last memory. I wanted him to have this last dance with me.

“ If you don't get home on the double

You're going to be in trouble

I hope your mama don't look in your room

Cause if she does, she'll be here soon.”

Mr . Man and I sang the words together. I let go of his hands and did a quick two-step. I danced to the music as much as my body would allow me to. Dionte looked at me with nothing but love in his eyes, and out of nowhere, his eyes got watery. He blinked and started crying.

Mr . Man had been there for me from the very beginning. We’d been in this fight with my lupus for over twenty years. Each time it got bad, I was always able to fight through it and get better, but this time, I just didn’t have any more fight in me. He knew that, and it broke him. Dionte had never broken down in front of me, and I knew this was a cry that he had been holding in for a while. Just like I allowed my son the space to express his emotions, I let Dionte have it, too, as I held onto him.

“I’m really about to lose my best fuckin’ friend. Siri , this shit ain’t fair!” he cried.

I rubbed his back without saying anything because he was hurt, and I knew I didn’t have the right words to console him.

He eventually pulled away from me, wiped his eyes, and lifted me, then put me back on the couch before wrapping the blanket around me.

“Don’t be talking shit in your head, calling me a bitch ass nigga for crying,” he joked while sitting next to me on the couch.

With my head on the pillow, I laughed while shaking my head.

“That’s the last thing you have to worry about me calling you. You’re going to be okay, Dionte . You gotta be. Dakari is going to need you more than ever now,” I assured him, and he nodded.

“I know, Bay -Bay . Ima be straight,” he said, and that put my mind at ease.

“I love you,” I needed to let him know.

“I know you do. I love you too. I love you so much, Bay -Bay ,” he assured me.

He reached up and held my hand in his. I stared at him for well over five minutes before I shut my eyes and fell asleep.