Saving Rain
Kelsey Kingsley
For Daddy & Mike—
Because above all else,
You are good men.
Two of the best.
A Letter from the Author
Dear Reader,
This is my favorite book I’ve ever written—at this point, anyway.
I’m jealous of you—genuinely and horribly jealous. Because you get to meet Soldier for the first time. And let me tell you, I have read through this story time and time again, and unlike every other book I’ve written, I still haven’t reached a point of being tired of it. I think maybe that says a lot—or at least, it should.
I do have to give you a bit of warning, though. This isn’t an easy story. It’ll likely bring a tear or a thousand to your eye. Some topics addressed within these pages might be difficult to handle, and if heavy angst isn’t your thing, you might want to turn around. But if none of this has scared you off, I strongly urge you to continue.
Because his name is Soldier, and he was never meant to be a hero.
But …
Want to listen to the Spotify playlist while you read? https://spoti.fi/46jlBtK
PROLOGUE
A BOY NAMED SOLDIER
“All right, Diane,” the obstetrician said to the young woman in the bed as she moved to stand between her parted knees. “I’m gonna need you to push.”
Diane—barely eighteen—exhausted and dripping with sweat, lolled her head from side to side in protest. “I can’t,” she wheezed between sobs. “I can’t do it. I can’t. I don’t want to.”
God, what the hell had she been thinking? She wasn’t in any position to have a baby. She could barely take care of herself, let alone a brand-new little life. One that would depend on her and only her.
“Come on, honey. Just one more push,” the doctor encouraged with a kind, sympathetic smile. “Your baby is almost here.”
My baby, Diane thought, hardly believing that someone like her could—or should—have a baby at all. What the fuck was she going to do with a baby? She didn’t have a job; she had no money. For fuck’s sake, she couldn’t even get through those first few contractions without knocking back the bottle of Grey Goose she had snatched out of her dad’s liquor cabinet—the one he had kept locked ever since she had moved back home, as if she didn’t know how to pick it.
Come to think of it now, she should’ve just gotten rid of the damn thing growing inside of her while she had the chance months and months ago. Her mother had been the first to suggest an abortion. Even she knew Diane would never have it in her to be a mother, let alone a passable, decent one.
I can prove them wrong, she thought, staring up at the bright light overhead. Maybe I can even prove myself wrong. Maybe it’s not too late for me, and this baby is what’s gonna save me.
She nodded to the light, like it was some kind of heavenly being looking down at her from the ceiling of this cold and sterile hospital room. With a deep breath and the resolution to get that damn kid out into the world, she lifted onto her elbows and squeezed her eyes shut, and with every drop of determination left in her tired body, she pushed and pushed and pushed until she heard the frantic squawking of something tiny and new.
Diane fell back against the pillow, gasping for the same stale air her baby was desperate for.
“What’s the time?” someone asked.
“Eleven eleven p.m.,” someone replied.
“We have a boy!” someone called out.
So many voices, but all Diane could focus on was the shrill sound of a tiny, innocent newborn, rising above everyone else in the room.
Her mother squeezed her hand.
“Diane, open your eyes and meet your son,” she instructed in a voice so full of astonishment and pride that Diane couldn’t help but do as she’d asked.
There, in the hands of a nurse she couldn’t remember the name of, was an angry, shaking, crying, red-faced baby. He was the ugliest, noisiest, dirtiest thing she had ever seen in her life, and yet her heart reached for something she still wasn’t sure she was capable of feeling.
“Can I hold him?” she asked the nurse.
The older lady smiled and nodded. Coming to stand beside the sweaty girl, who was barely an adult, she passed the little bundle down to her. “Just for a minute. He still needs to be cleaned up.”
Diane had never held a baby before. Nobody she knew had ever let her hold theirs, and who could really blame them? She was almost always drunk or high, and when she wasn’t, she was wishing she were instead of being hungover. These months of pregnancy had been the only sober months since … God, she didn’t even know how long. For all intents and purposes, no baby had any business being near her.
But this one … this one was hers.
And he was going to save her.
“He’s beautiful, honey,” her dad said, peering over her shoulder.
He isn’t beautiful, Diane thought.
His face looked like a prune with a gaping hole in the middle, all gums and no teeth, and he sounded like an outraged cat in heat. But she supposed that, one day, maybe he could be beautiful, so she forced a smile onto her face and willed her head to nod.
“Yeah, he is,” she replied because that was what she was supposed to say, right?
“What are you going to name him?” her mom asked, brushing the damp hair from off her daughter’s forehead. “Have you thought about it?”
In truth, Diane hadn’t thought about it at all. She had been too busy these past thirty-seven weeks talking herself out of sneaking sips from the locked-away bottles in the liquor cabinet while cursing the parasite in her belly for keeping her awake and making her puke and squeezing her bladder down to the size of a poppy seed. But now that she looked at him, now that she knew he was in fact a he—the little ray of sunshine sent to brighten her gloomy world and save her life—she could only think of one name, one word, worthy of someone brave enough to be born to a wreck like her.
“Soldier,” she replied as he cracked his tiny eyes open to look at her for the first time. “His name is Soldier.”
CHAPTER ONE
HEARTS OF HOPE
Age Five
“Mommy?”
I peered through the crack in the open door. The room was dark.
I wasn’t scared of the dark, but I was scared of what it meant.
Mommy only liked it dark when she was sleeping or did the Bad Stuff, and since it wasn’t morning time anymore, it probably meant she had done the Bad Stuff.
But maybe not. Maybe she was sick. Billy’s tummy hadn’t felt good when I saw him a couple days ago, so maybe her tummy didn’t feel good too.
“Mommy?”
I walked slowly inside to see her on the bed and giggled because she looked so silly. Her jammie shirt was on backward, and she had forgotten to put on her pants.
“Mommy, I see your undies,” I whispered, still giggling wildly. “I can see your butt.”
She snorted against her pillow. She sounded like a piggy, and I giggled again before making a piggy sound too.
“Soldier?”
Uh-oh.
Gramma was coming up the stairs, and she was going to be mad if she saw Mommy sleeping when it wasn’t morning time anymore.
I hurried out of the room and saw Gramma. She smiled big at me and raced for me super fast to pick me up and swing me around.