Page 39 of Driving Beats

The server brings a refreshed teapot, which I pour. “Well, now you’ve got my attention. Where did you move?”

“Oklahoma.”

She sips her tea. Sensing I’m not prepared for whatever she’s hiding, I don’t press her.

I’m about to tell her she doesn’t owe me an explanation when she continues. “My parents fought a lot when I was a kid. Dad even left the house when I was five, but came back a few months later. Of course, I was in kindergarten at the time, so I didn’t understand too much of what was happening. They stayed together until I was eleven, when he left Ma for another woman.”

“Ouch. I’m sorry.” My parents have been married forever, but Río went through a similar struggle with his. I was there. It wasn’t pretty.

She takes a sip of tea. “After that, Ma met this guy, Kelvin Steele.” She studies me as if the name should mean something. It doesn’t.

I admit, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him.”

“Probably for the best. He leads a religious organization out in Oklahoma called the Luminous Covenant. Ma moved us out there to join his, well, cult. I was twelve.”

“Geez. But you’re here now.”

“True. I am. About four years in, I was a sixteen-year-old living on this repressive compound. Naturally, I started to rebel. At first, I did little stuff such as getting my hands on ‘forbidden’ magazines, like Vogue. Let’s just say things escalated, and I was kicked out when I turned eighteen.” She drains her teacup.

I lift the pot, but she shakes her head. I return it to the table as my mind races with how on earth she survived. I clear my throat. “Your mother let that happen?”

“Let it happen? No. Actively encouraged Kelvin to kick me out is more like it.” She turns her face away, then lifts her palm to hide her expression. Her shoulders rock.

I want to hug her to me. Offer her solace. Help this vivacious creature soar rather than be crushed under the weight of losing her mother to a cult. In addition to turning against her.

Her cachet raises a notch in my book.

The server comes with the check. Instead of continuing our conversation, I take care of the bill and we exit the restaurant.

I choose my next words carefully. “I have to say, you seem to have adjusted to life outside the cult well enough to impress Luke. He doesn’t let just anyone join a UC tour.”

“I wanted to see the world Kelvin denied me. This gig seemed like a good way to do that.”

12

NESE

Ihaven’t talked about the cult to anyone since I left it with nothing but the ridiculous clothes on my back and a copy of Kelvin’s manifesto. Which ended up in a trash can outside Memphis. Ma didn’t come with us when he dropped me off at the bus station. She said everything to me beforehand. Why does it feel safe to share this with Coop?

Maybe it’s how he’s the go-to band member for advice.

Maybe it’s how deeply his ex hurt him.

Maybe it’s how he let my “moment” in the restaurant pass without comment.

The valet brings the Rover as I stare at the guitarist. “Do you really want to hear how I ended up on tour with UC?”

He opens the door for me and I slip into the vehicle. “No pressure.” Confirming I’m inside, he closes my door and takes his place behind the wheel.

All his controlling vibes from earlier in the week have evaporated, leaving only a steady kindness beneath. Can I do this? The need to share my excruciating past with someone who won’t judge me is undeniable. I feel safe with him.

“Is there somewhere we could hike?”

“I can do one better.” He puts the vehicle into drive. “Let me take you to a place I go when I’m working on a new song.”

After navigating through what I have learned is normal LA traffic, we pull into a semi-full parking lot for the botanical gardens. Without fuss, Coop pays our entrance fees and we wander through a formal topiary area, then follow a paved pathway that parallels a creek.

“I usually take this trail,” he explains. “As you can see, most people gravitate toward the roses.”