In Her Space

by Knight, Amie

  And she fed me. All the while telling me to slow down before I made myself sick. I got sick anyway. And I helped her in the kitchen that night—and every night since.

  Momma Lou had taken me home and saved my life. I’d say that she had been an answer to my prayers, but I had long since given up praying. She was my miracle, though, and I’d been with her ever since. I helped her at the shelter in the kitchen and with the heaps of kids she brought home all the time. We’d have anywhere from ten to fifteen kids at a time, running all over our old three-bedroom ranch, but each had a place to lay their heads at night and a full belly when they went to sleep. The living and dining rooms were covered in framed photos of all of Momma Lou’s children. Hundreds of small feet had pounded around this property, and all of their sweet, little faces graced the small house’s walls. I loved it here. It was safe.

  Before Momma Lou, I’d was like I was constantly drowning, like I was at the bottom of a pool, and every time I teetered to the top of the water, I’d be pushed back under once again, gasping for air. Now, I was free. I could finally breathe.

  Momma Lou started coming around the clothesline, snapping me out of my thoughts. She took me by the shoulders. “Everly, you know how special you are to me.” Her kind eyes shone in the sunlight.

  Tears burned behind my own. My nose stung, but I blinked, sucking those tears back.

  Everly Woods did not cry.

  Her face was kind but so very serious. “We got you all healed up here, baby,” she said, rubbing her chubby, wrinkled hands up and down my arms and over my shoulders, one lone tear burning a trail over her smooth, dark skin. “And here,” she whispered, placing her palm over my heart. “Now, it’s time for you to fly, Little Bird.”

  I placed my hand over hers, rubbing my fingers over her smooth and rough skin, trying to memorize the feel of her, of this moment, so I could replay it later—when I needed it.

  My heart hammered behind the heaviness of her hand. The hand that loved me. The hand that fed me. The hand that had helped a young, starving homeless girl when no one else could. That hand meant everything to me.

  I grinned at Little Bird.

  Momma Lou had nicknames for all the children she took in, and I was her Little Bird. A name that I had to admit fit me a little too well. I was so tiny that I sometimes thought a small breeze might carry me away. It wasn’t just my height, either. I was only five feet. My features were miniature, but my brown hair was big, wild, and untamable. Momma Lou jokingly said that my hair was bigger than my behind.

  She might have called me Little Bird, but in no way did I want to fly. I was terrified of leaving this nest, the only place I’d truly ever been able to call home. So scared. I knew all too well what lurked beyond the sanctuary of this house and the shelter and didn’t want to experience it ever again.

  “You shouldn’t be hanging out with an old black woman all the time, Everly. You should be out experiencing life. Meeting young men and making friends,” she said, stepping back and wiping her face. “Besides, it’s only for the summer, and it’s good money. You wanted to make some money so you could go to school, right? If you don’t like it there, you can always come back here. Momma Lou is always gonna be here for you, child.”

  I did want to go to school. I didn’t want to always be dependent on someone else. Don’t get me wrong. I pulled my weight around there, cooking and cleaning and caring for all the children that came through plus my work at the shelter, but I wanted to give back more. I wanted to help others the way Momma Lou had helped me. I needed an education to help people the way I wanted to though. She was right—I couldn’t stay there forever. I was twenty years old now. It was only for the summer, but for some reason, it felt like so much more. I hadn’t gone a day without Momma Lou in three years.

  I glanced at the small, old, white house and took in the acre or so of property around us, thinking that, when people rode by, I bet they thought this place was nothing special. The house wasn’t the best kept in the neighborhood. It definitely needed a paint job, and the lawn was so dry that huge patches of grass were missing, brown, dusty dirt there instead. We only had a washer. No dryer. And, with so many kids here, clothes were always hanging on the line. The kids. There were tons, and I was never guaranteed a minute alone. Pounding on the door almost always ensued when I was in the shower. There were only two bathrooms, after all. And I slept in the same room as a million children every night. But I was never lonely here. Not ever. I was safe and never alone. Yeah, this place may not seem like anything special to others, but to me—it was everything.

  I launched myself across the space that separated us and right into Momma Lou’s arms. She let out a big sigh and held me close, and I breathed in the smell of coconuts from the oil she put in her hair every day.

  “I’m gonna miss you. You’re my best friend,” I whispered into her neck. “I love you.” My small body shivered with unrestrained emotions. I didn’t usually lay my feelings out so plainly, but in that moment, I had to. I didn’t know what the future held for Momma Lou and her Little Bird. But I knew she meant everything to me right then.

  “I’m gonna miss you too, Little Bird, but it’s time. You can’t stay here with me forever. I’m expecting big things from you, you hear?” she choked out, her large, soft body shaking with emotion against my own.

  This didn’t feel like a goodbye for the summer. It seemed like so much more, and I pulled back on all the emotions that wanted to pour from me. I could be scared. I could be terrified, even. But I’d never let Momma Lou down. She’d never once let me down.

  I spent the rest of the day going through my chores at home and the shelter in a daze, trying my hardest not to think about the bus ride the next day to my new job for the summer. It was only a few hours away, and I was lucky Momma Lou’s friend had needed the help because I needed the money. But, when I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t help the panic gathering in my chest. Would they be nice to me? Would they hurt me? Would they like me? The questions were endless.

  I quietly and carefully climbed down from the top bunk of my bed so that I wouldn’t wake the four children sleeping in the same room. I reached over to the small bedside table and removed the picture I’d been carrying around for four years. It was tattered, almost to the point of being trash, the corners bent in no matter how many times I’d tried to smooth them. The smell of smoke was still strong even four years later. But I could still make out the woman’s sweet features. Her soft, blond hair and kind, chocolate-brown eyes. I could even see the small pearls hanging on her neck and the smile full of blindingly perfect teeth. That smile got me every time. It was so familiar, so sweet. I’d see it and the memories of one special day with one handsome cowboy would rush through me like wildfire, warming me to my core. That feeling had kept me cozy and snug on the coldest of nights. That feeling had pulled me through the most difficult of times.

  The lady in the picture was wearing a pretty, blue sweater that made her brown eyes pop. She looked like someone I’d like to know. Someone I had known for one night. Someone I’d like to love me. Someone I’d like to protect me. She reminded me. That’s why I’d kept her, after all.

  “Looks like it’s just me and you again,” I whispered to my pretty lady in the photo.

  She didn’t say anything back. She never did. She just gazed at me with her loving smile, offering me the same comfort she had when I’d been all alone on the streets years ago.

  Keep reading The Line here

  See Through Heart

  A Steel Heart

  An Imperfect Heart

  The Line

  Beneath His Stars

  Life is hard. And I find it especially hard to juggle being a full-time mother and writer. But the blessings far outweigh the bad so I just want to start by listing a few of my blessings. These people mean the absolute world to me. They are my family by blood, by friendship, by books.

  Thanks to my husband, Tony, and my sweet baby angels, Jackson and Violet, for putting u
p with many late hours on the couch with this laptop in my lap while we watch movies. Your patience, love, and support in helping me achieve my dream are priceless. I love you.

  Thanks to my momma for always supporting me and encouraging me to keep going even when I feel like a failure. Those days are the worst and our talks always make me feel so much better. Love you.

  Kelly, Megan, Miranda, Aly, Ashley, Danielle P., and Jamie, I’d have ditched this thing long ago if I didn’t have you guys around to push me and plot with and girl talk to. I love you guys. Thanks for being the best friends a girl could have.

  Laura, thanks for walking with me every day around my work schedule. It made all the difference in the world in my mental health.

  Maria Luis, I love your face and your heart. You’re something special, honey. Thank you for believing in me.

  To the most awesome, amazing, sweet, wonderful beta readers ever! Thanks for making The Stars Duet something I can be proud of. You guys make me better. Thanks for all your hard work, Colleen, Danielle R., Sasha, Katryna, Megan, Danielle P., Dani, and Diane.

  They say it takes a village. Here’s mine. Hang Le, thank you for these amazing covers. Amber Goodwyn, you rock. I don’t know what I’d do without you at release. Thank you! Amor Caro, thank you for your friendship and for always making time to proof my books. I heart you! Stacey Blake, you make the inside of my books shine. You’re amazing. Julie Deaton, I have the sweetest and most amazingly eagle eyed proofreader in the world. Don’t ever leave me. Emily Lawrence, thank you for loving my books while you edit the hell out of them. You make my life so much easier. Sarah Ferguson at Social Butterfly, I know I must drive you crazy, but I still love you. Thank you for all your hard work on these releases. Renee McCleary, you’re new to my team and already invaluable. Thank you for all of your hard work on this release and for taking the time to beta read for me. Hopefully this is just the beginning for us!

  And, finally, to all the authors, bloggers, and readers who support me and share and love my books, thank you, thank you, thank you!

  Amie Knight has been a reader for as long as she could remember and a romance lover since she could get her hands on her momma’s books. A dedicated wife and mother with a love of music and makeup, she won’t ever be seen leaving the house without her eyebrows and eyelashes done just right. When she isn’t reading and writing, you can catch her jamming out in the car with her two kids to ‘90s R&B, country, and showtunes. Amie draws inspiration from her childhood in Columbia, South Carolina, and can’t imagine living anywhere other than the South.

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