When they reach the mouth of the cave, he hesitated. “Maybe we should come back another day,” he said. That would give him time to recruit Simon and Daniel to help undo this whole silly thing he’d done. They would probably think he’s nuts, though.
“You’re acting so strange today,” said Cynthia. “I at least want to look around in the cave a bit before we go.”
“Okay,” said Ethan. “You go ahead. I want to sit down for a minute.”
“Whatever you say.” She carefully made her way down into the cave.
Ethan sat on a large rock and waited, his face in his hands, his heart thumping.
“What’s this!” shouted Cynthia suddenly. Ethan jump to a standing position, fight or flight. “Come down here. You’ve got to see this.”
Wobbly kneed, Ethan made his way down into the cave, thinking carefully about what he was going to say. He certainly didn’t want to lie to her, but how else was he going to get out of this.
“This is amazing,” said Cynthia, when Ethan had reached her. “I can’t imagine who did this. We were just talking about this the other day, you and me. Oh, I just can’t believe someone brought an actual piano down here into the cave. It’s like a concert hall now, a wonderful natural concert hall. I never told anyone about what we had talked about, about how this would be a great place to play music. This is the craziest, most amazing thing I think has ever happened to me. You must have told someone about our plans; that’s the only explanation I can think of. But I can’t imagine who would do this even if you had told them. It would have to be the most awesome person in the world, is all I know.”
Ethan smiled at those last words, his confidence coming back. “I didn’t tell anyone. Well, only a few people, but this wasn’t their idea.”
“Then who would have done this? I just can’t imagine who.” She ran her fingers across the keys. “It may need a little tuning, but it’s perfect.”
“I did it,” said Ethan. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Cynthia looked stunned, almost pale. “But how?” she said finally. “This must have been expensive. And how did you even get it down here? I still can’t believe this; it has truly astonished me.”
“I found it at a yard sale the other day. I thought of you when I saw it. Miss Green left me a little money, so I spent part of it on this piano. As for how it got down here, my buddy Daniel helped me, and somebody else helped me too, him and his nephew, but I promised to keep their names a secret. It was a job, for sure.”
“Thank you so much,” said Cynthia. “I absolutely love it.” She suddenly grabbed Ethan around his neck, pulled him close to her, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
Ethan thought he would pass out. He’d never been kissed by a girl before, at least not one who wasn’t a mom or a grandma. He was speechless.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Cynthia. “I don’t know what came over me.” She covered her face with her hand in apparent embarrassment. “I just got too excited, is all. I won’t do it again.”
“I’m glad you did that,” said Ethan. “I’ve been wanting you to do that since the first day I saw you.”
Cynthia removed her hand from her face and said, “I’ve felt the same way about you, ever since that first day we met at Square Deal.”
Ethan smiled and looked down at his feet.
Cynthia sat down on the piano seat and said, “Come and have a seat next to me. What do you want me to play?”
“You pick something,” he said, sitting down beside to her. “I’m sure whatever ever you pick will be great.”
Cynthia paused for a moment then began to play “My Old Kentucky Home.” Ethan smiled from within and slid closer to his new girlfriend. In that moment, that absolutely perfect moment, he forgot that anything bad had ever happened—the world was a perfect place and would be from now on.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
K. Martin Beckner is an Army veteran and a graduate of Western Kentucky University. He lives in Southern Kentucky, not far from Nashville, Tennessee, one of his favorite cities. His writing style is deeply influenced by the fascinating people, historical places, and haunting folklore of Kentucky, where his family has resided for more than two centuries. He is also the author of the Southern Gothic novel Chips of Red Paint.
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A Million Doorways Page 25