Will the rain ever stop, p.1
WILL THE RAIN EVER STOP, page 1
Will The Rain
Ever Stop
SHEELA S.K.
Copyright © 2024 by Sheela S.K.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author/publisher. For permission requests, please contact the author.
“Long as I remember the rain been comin' down
Clouds of mystery pourin' confusion on the ground
Good men through the ages tryin' to find the sun
And I wonder, still I wonder, who'll stop the rain?”
-John Fogerty, Credence Clearwater Revival, 1970
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
PROLOGUE
The Four Seasons Hotel
120 E Delaware Place
Chicago, IL
August, 2022
Nick Anderson, Jr. had finally reached a point in his life where he could sit back and take a good hard look at his life and ponder on the circuitous route that had led him to where he found himself at the moment. The quiet and solitude that he had been looking forward to after all the autographs and banal conversations with his “adoring readers” had blessedly come to an end as he relaxed in a comfortable leather reading chair with a cup of tea the coordinator of the event had kindly brought to him. His professional life was finally on track after many years of searching for his niche and after trying his hand at a multitude of things, none of which had even been an acceptable pursuit, both financially and emotionally, as he tried to find his way in the world
He supposed that many people around him….close friends as well as perfect strangers…had seen him as behind the eight ball since birth with both his parents having died before he even knew who they were. But Nick always figured that it was hard if not impossible to miss what you had never had to begin with….and besides, his Uncle Frank and Aunt Maggie had been what he suppose his birth parents would have been like and would have provided for him had this been the case.
For a long time, as a small child, he had no idea that Frank and Maggie Yearly were not his actual parents until they had felt he was old enough to understand and be able to cope with the reality of what had befallen his real parents. But even once this was revealed, it was not like it had any kind of real significant impact on him. Certainly Nick would have loved to have known and been raised by his true parents, but after the close bond he had forged with Frank and Maggie, the revelation was not as devastating as it might have been in some other scenario. Like many other things in Nick’s life, he found he had become quite adept at compartmentalizing this piece of his family history and just taken it in stride. Realistically, Frank and Maggie were his parents who had never given him any reason to doubt their total dedication and commitment to raising him as their own after Maggie’s sister, Ella, died shortly after Nick had been born.
But with his recent and almost overnight success as a published author, Nick was now finding his mind drifting more and more toward who his birth parents had been and all that had happened to them in the sad, poignant tale of their young lives. It was, in fact, just this topic that had finally brought him both the financial success and personal happiness he was currently enjoying as he put the final stamp on the last stop of his book tour in Chicago. After a myriad of professional endeavors in his life following an undergraduate degree from the University of North Carolina (UNC) in Chapel Hill, Nick had unexpectedly fallen into what he guessed had been meant for him and had been waiting for him while he searched for his calling.
Alumni Ballroom
University of North Carolina
Chapel Hill, NC
June, 2015
In fact, it was only after a chance meeting with an old literature professor from his college days which Nick felt was solely responsible for his current situation. He had taken Dr. Dryson’s class in creative writing more to fulfill a degree requirement at the time than for his interest in such things, but after finding no real passion nor calling in anything he had tried his hand at since he had graduated, the unexpected meeting with Dr. Dryson at an alumni event had birthed a possibility that Nick had just never considered…and likely never would have had he not crossed paths with Dryson at the gathering. Howard Dryson was well aware that many students ended up in his writing classes more from UNC’s requirement to have students have a taste of all fields as opposed to their deep, burning love of what he taught. And Nick Anderson was certainly among that group he was sure.
But even so, Dryson never failed to have a student or two each semester who showed real promise and innate talent for creative writing, even if it was just to fulfill one more tick in a box to get their degree. Even after so many years, Dryson recognized Nick from across the crowded room and made his way to greet him always remembering those few raw talents that had come his way and then gone onto some other avocation in their adult lives. Nick spotted his old professor as well and was happy to find an old familiar face among the throng of people he either had no recollection of or would have been happy to avoid if he had.
“Nick Anderson?” Dryson exclaimed as he moved to shake Nick’s hand warmly. “How long has it been?”
Nick chuckled.
“More years than I care to count, Doc….since I graduated from UNC I suppose.”
“You look well, Nick,” Dryson continued, “what have you been up to in all the years since you left Chapel Hill?”
Nick shrugged sheepishly.
“Oh…this and that, Doc…nothing of real import I am afraid.”
Dryson, as was his nature, could see that Nick, despite looking well physically, seemed to be a bit down emotionally.
“Why don’t we step outside Nick, so we can talk away from all this noise and rancor.”
Nick nodded his agreement, and they stepped out of the noisy ballroom and found a quiet spot on a small balcony overlooking a large expanse of the university grounds as they spent a few minutes catching up.
Nick, like the majority of Dryson’s students, had no real interest in literature once they had finished his class, but he also recalled how much he had enjoyed the time in Dryson’s classroom. Like many of the required electives he had to endure…at least in Nick’s mind at the time…all he wanted was to get the credits and move on. But he had to admit that at the time Dryson had a way of making a class that he had been dreading when he had signed up for it memorable even if he had no further interest in the field. As he recalled, Dryson was one of those rare university professors who seemed genuinely interested in all of his students, regardless of their declared majors. He had made the semester way more appealing and intriguing than Nick had ever imagined.
“You still suffering through the kids like me who found themselves in your classroom who would rather be anywhere else these days, Doc?” Nick asked with a smile letting Dryson know he was just kidding.
“I am, Nick…though I think your assessment is a bit of a broad brush. Like yourself, I still get an occasional student here and there who feels forced into one of my courses but comes out the other side finding the experience not so painful as they had been expecting.”
“I guess that was me in a nutshell, Doc…have to say of all the required electives I had to take on, my memories of the time in your creative writing class was definitely a highlight of my college curriculum.”
“Very kind of you to say, Nick. Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Fire away…”
“When you left my class, I always held out some hope you would possibly pursue a career with what you took in there, but if I had to guess I would say that is not the case. You look like perhaps your professional life is not exactly what you had envisioned for yourself.”
Nick was speechless for a few moments, taken aback at how Dryson had been able to look through him and divine what was going on with him.
“Is it that obvious, Doc?”
Dryson shrugged.
“Ever since I knew you back in your college days, Nick, you have always worn your heart on your sleeve if you will pardon that hackneyed and trite expression. Want to fill me in?”
Nick took a deep breath and exhaled before he motioned for them to move to a pair of old cast iron chairs near the balcony railing. Nick stared out at the bucolic greenery of the quad beside them before launching into how he had jumped from gig to gig never really finding his home. Dryson listened intently not interrupting him as he poured out his soul. He had always had a soft spot in his heart for Nick…though he was not sure why this one student of his h ad touched him like that…and he could see that as Nick talked that it was like no one had even seen his disappointment and discouragement and thought to ask if he wanted to talk about it.
“Still looking it sounds like…” Dryson commented when Nick was done and took a long draw on his beer.
Nick shrugged this time as he sighed.
“Guess so, Doc….just feels like whatever it is I am supposed to be doing…well…it is not exactly apparent.”
And that was the moment when Nick’s professional life took a sharp turn for the better, though it would not become tangible for him for a while yet. Dryson went on to let him know that despite his not really having been too keen on what Dryson was teaching at the time, he had seen a raw and innate talent for it.
“I remember you saying that to me when the course was over, Doc, but I just never really gave it any serious consideration. Guess my mind was focused on other things at the time. Do not take this the wrong way, but making a living as a writer is…well….”
He just looked up at Dryson and grinned. Dryson smiled back knowing what he meant without having to hear more.
“Would taking a shot at it be any less soul-crushing than what you have been doing up to this point, if my take on what you just told me is accurate?”
Nick did not reply right away, but wondered if his old professor might be onto something. He had enjoyed the assignments that he had been tasked with under Dryson, but tasks were all he had ever seen the writing as…nothing to make a living off of.
“I don’t know, Doc…”
“Just food for thought, Nick. It has been great seeing you again and spending some time catching up, but I have to take off. Please just ponder what I am suggesting…I am sure that even if this is not for you that you will find your place in the world. Sometimes it just takes time and patience.”
Nick stood with Dryson, shook his hand, and thanked him for his concern and for taking the time to listen to his tale of woes. But as he walked away, Nick did not feel like he had any better future professionally than he had when he had arrived at the alumni function.
************
Nick Anderson’s Apartment
276 Torrance Drive, # 214
Charlotte, NC
September 2016
Despite being as unhappy and stifled professionally as he had been since graduating from UNC, Nick was now even more so when his last job got eliminated and he was at loose ends in the shaky local economy in Charlotte. Feeling like he was just fighting an uphill battle to secure yet another unrewarding and unfulfilling job, he thought back to his conversation with Dr. Dryson the year before at the reunion and wondered if maybe it was worth a try. He had received a very hefty severance package from his last employer and figured that if any time was right to give this wild idea of Dryson’s a go, this was it. He had a rough start with the typical flood of rejection letters from things he was writing, though as he wrote more and more he was receiving the occasional comment that his writing was “thoughtful and intriguing but just not what they were looking for at the moment”.
Nick was not sure if this was just some boilerplate rejection phrase that was used often in the field, but when he got one other piece of feedback from a recent publisher, he thought maybe it had not been. The phrase that was sent along and that stuck in his brain and actually turned the corner for Nick was:
“Your writing is well-crafted and very thoughtful, but it feels like you are trying to force your skills into topics and narratives that are foreign to you. I would suggest an old writing adage to you that I am sure you are familiar with: write what you know.”
Nick took this nugget of advice to heart and set off to pen with that in mind. Though he had not known his parents, and only knew of them through his Aunt Maggie and Uncle Frank, the sad story had always touched him deeply. Nick, at his core knew he was no author of love stories, but their short lives seemed to be just that at its heart. And his curiosity and wonder at what might have been for them had they not died so young had always floated around in his brain. If he was to, as the last publisher suggested, write what you know…then this seemed to fit the bill. Nick sat down and began writing what he knew of his parents’ time together and as he wrote he found the words flowing across the computer screen with little effort. Despite his reluctance to write a love story, this is what it ended up being, and what made Nick Anderson a virtual overnight success as an author.
This is Nick’s story…
CHAPTER ONE
Charlotte, NC
March, 1998-August, 2000
Hollywood and television movies are filled with stories of seemingly impossible couples finding one another. Often it is a distance of many miles or even disparate continents that appear to be an insurmountable obstacle…or cultural or religious dogmas appear to be too much of a hurdle to overcome. Even the tried and true challenge of each person coming from such widely incongruent socioeconomic backgrounds that an eventual pairing just cannot seem likely, no matter how the person from the higher station in life will insist that this is not an issue and goes to great lengths to prove this is true while fighting back the protestations of family, friends, and having to possibly abandon someplace in the pecking order of the haves and have-nots.
With Nick’s parents, while none of these cliched plot lines was especially applicable, the fact that they even met and found one another was still remarkable in and of itself. Perhaps a tortured analogy on the Cinderella theme, if one is so inclined, which made the intrigue and impetus for Nick to put it into print even more appealing. He had no idea if the story would truly grab any eyeballs in the end, but it was, as the one publisher had suggested to him, a topic he knew well. And even if it came to nothing when he was done, it could be his own personal tribute to the two people that had brought him into the world and he had never had the chance to know. Even as he worked through the details of their lives that he gleaned from his Aunt and Uncle as well as a few other close friends along the way, when he was done he was as amazed as anyone that they had somehow come together at all.
His mother, Ella Anderson….Ella Williams at the point in time before she married his father…was just a 22-year-old barista working in the popular coffee hangout in oldtown Charlotte called “Uncommon Grounds”. From all accounts, Ella Williams was a natural beauty, admired and loved by virtually everyone she came into contact with. But it was not just her skills behind the counter at the café and her seemingly indefatigable sunny disposition that typically rubbed off on even the surliest or most downtrodden customer that came into the shop. No one that Nick talked to who had known his Mom in those days had anything but high praises of how she could raise the low spirits of the lowest of the low. But the local admiration for Ella went far beyond her skill at creating unique and artful lattes.
In 2000, Ella had been enrolled in a demanding undergraduate program in finance and business at North Carolina State University (NCSU) in Raleigh. She had come from quite a humble background and had secured a full 4-year scholarship at NCSU. She was the first person in her family to ever attend college and her family was “over the moon thrilled” for her. But between her junior year in 2002 and what would have been her senior year in 2003, Ella’s mother, Harriet, was diagnosed with breast cancer and she was forced to drop out to help try and pay some of the mounting medical bills as well as serve as the surrogate parent to her two younger siblings, Tom and Rebecca, since her father had passed away when she was still in high school. Her father fortunately had taken out a significant life insurance policy when she was just a child and that plus some of the death benefits from his former employer were taking a big bite out for the massive medical expenses for her mother’s cancer treatments. But even so, there was still a bit of a shortfall and Ella quit school to try to fill in the gap. This was what the locals in Charlotte who knew Ella really admired her for.
Even as everyone was sure the disappointment Ella must be feeling at having her college career cut short, to a T they all told Nick that you never would have known it to be around her. There was no one who came into “Uncommon Grounds” when Ella was on duty that would ever have suspected she was anything but some young girl doing a regular job with a smile and a kind word for each and all. They all shook their heads in amazement at how Ella could go through her days in such high spirits and with such a naturally sunny disposition about her knowing that once her shift at the café was over that her day was just beginning as she rotated between the café, the hospital, and her childhood home to attend to Tom and Rebecca.
