I gave him a sidelong glance. “I might.” My gran had believed in all kinds of things that were nonsense to my mother but very real and magical to me.
Suddenly, I was grateful for the low lighting, because for seemingly no reason at all, I felt my eyes stinging with tears.
We followed the group deeper, past rippling flowstone formations and pools of crystal-clear water that reflected the cave ceiling like a mirror. At one point, we came to a passage that was so narrow, we had to turn sideways just to squeeze through.
Noah made it easily. I followed more slowly, and just as I slid through to the other side, Noah’s hand caught my wrist, steadying me.
His fingers were warm against my skin.
“You okay?” he asked again, his voice quieter now, more private.
I nodded.
The moment stretched, almost electric, before he let go.
What was happening here? Was he feeling the same pull that I was, or was he in full-on doctor mode, concerned that the woman he’d taken pity on was going to have a meltdown in front of all these people?
Maybe a little of both?
The guide led us into the final chamber, flipping a switch that illuminated the room in a soft golden glow. The walls were smooth and domed, an underground cathedral sculpted by nature. I could actually feel the pressure of however many tons of stone were suspended above us, the sheer age of the various rock formations, and the memories of people long dead who had once tread these same pathways. On top of that, with the glittering walls and the scattered stalactites and stalagmites of all sizes, it was prettier than I had expected.
“This is one of the largest rooms in the cave system,” the guide explained. “In the early 1900s, visitors used to hold concerts and even dances in here.”
The guide motioned for everyone to settle in. “Now, for my favorite part of the tour, I need everyone to make sure your phones are turned off. We’re going to experience total darkness. If you’ve never been in a place with absolutely no light, this is your chance.”
She waited a moment and then flipped a switch.
And suddenly—nothing.
No glow. No shadows. No silhouettes or anything at all.
Just pitch-black darkness.
I stood completely still, my heart pounding in my ears.
Then, something brushed against my fingers.
Noah.
He wasn’t holding my hand, exactly, he was just…there. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of him, the presence of him, the silent offering of steady contact in a world that had vanished into darkness.
And I didn’t pull away.
For the next few moments, we just stood like that, breathless and blind.
Then the lights snapped back on, and Noah was already half a step away.
Later, after the tour of the caves had finished, we went back to the main area and found some snacks—warm pretzels with mustard, and an unnecessary but absolutely delicious bag of fried Oreos.
We wandered through a tiny gift shop, where I picked out a collection of smooth stones, filling a little drawstring bag with Glenwood Caverns stitched into the fabric.
“Max and Blakey will love these,” I said, already picturing my nephews dumping the stones onto the kitchen table like treasure.
“Max and Blakey?” Noah asked.
“My nephews. Seven-year-old twins.” I smiled. “I promised them Auntie Looney would bring back some ‘zoobineers.’”
“Auntie Looney?”
