“Stormi, you were about to let that good man get away,” Jo said, laughing so loud the realtor jumped a little. “Scared to go on a date, scared to give him some pussy, scared to tell him you were pregnant. Now look at you in that big ol’ house being nasty every night.” She cackled, walking off before I could even respond.
“Excuse my mother,” I said quickly to the realtor, who was trying her best not to laugh.
“I have a mother the same way,” she said with a smile, leading us further down the hallway.
The space was beautiful. Eight rooms, high ceilings, a wide-open lobby, even a kitchen tucked in the back. The more I walked it, the more my mind started spinning. My original plan for the women’s wellness center still felt right, but something about this building, the way it wrapped around you, made me think bigger.
“Jo!” I called out, my voice echoing through the halls.
“Stormi, don’t be in here actin’ ghetto now,” she called back, stepping out of the kitchen with a paper cup in her hand.
I shot her a look. “I know you not talking,” I said, one brow raised. She smirked and waited for me to keep going.
“A recovery home,” I said finally. “Let’s turn this into a recovery home.”
She blinked, her eyes scanning the walls like she was trying to see what I saw. “A recovery home?” she repeated.
“Yes,” I said, walking closer, my hands moving as I spoke. “Women can come here and stay while they recover physically,emotionally, whatever they need. We got eight rooms, so at least six could stay long term. We can have a doctor, a nurse, a therapist on staff. A full team. A real space for women to get their life back.”
Jo’s eyes softened, and that familiar light crept into them. “I see the vision, child,” she said finally. “I see it clear as day.”
“Yeah,” I breathed, turning around again, taking it all in. “A recovery home.”
“Stormi Knights,” Jo said suddenly.
“Huh?”
“Call itStormi Knights.”
“Name it after me?” I asked, confused.
She smiled that slow, knowing smile the one she gets when she’s about to say something that’ll sit on your heart for weeks. “Yeah, baby. Where you think your name came from? You were always a reminder of the one beautiful thing that came from all them stormy nights. So, make this place the same something beautiful that comes from the storm.”
My throat got tight. I blinked fast, but the tears came anyway. “I love it,” I whispered, pulling her into a hug.
Moments like this, this right here, were everything I used to pray for. Me and Jo on the same page, laughing, dreaming, building. Now we go on shopping dates, lunch dates, even dinner dates like best friends. And I needed that. Especially with RJ and Ari all the way in Africa doing medical work.
“So, ladies,” the realtor said, walking back in with her clipboard. “What do we think?”
“I want it,” I said a little too loud, but I didn’t care. The joy burst out of me before I could stop it.
The realtor grinned, already clapping her hands. “Then let’s start the paperwork and put in an offer.”
And just like that, I could feel it… the start of something new. Something healing. Something mine. Another Black woman winning, another dream coming alive. That’s all I ever wanted to see.
“Let me just call my husband so he can come down here,” I said, pulling my phone from my purse. My fingers were trembling. Not from nerves, just that excitement that always came before I heard his voice.
The moment the call connected, I heard him say, “Wifey.”
Lawd, I had no business getting wet just from one word, but that man’s voice always did something to me. Deep, calm and possessive in the best way.
“Husband,” I said back, smiling before I even realized it.
“Found something?” he asked, and I could hear the boys in the background laughter, toys dropping, little feet hitting the hardwood.
“I did,” I said, glancing around the open space again. “And she wants to start the paperwork. You able to come down here? The boys not sleeping, are they?”
He chuckled, that rich, easy laugh that made my heart relax every single time. “Your boys are wide awake causing terror. Ain’t no naps in sight.”
