The Gatekeeper
It was a watercolor image of a woman. Her legs were long and thick all the way down from where her hips met her thighs. Her skin was a deep brown, almost as deep as Tia’s, and the colors wrapped around the canvas, around her body, like a dress billowing in the wind. For something so large, the estate had its fair share of colorful palettes. The walls were neutral and the curtains that bordered the windows were white and heavy, but the different bowls and ornaments placed around as decor swallowed and regurgitated color.
This painting stood out. This woman with her wrap licking the breeze and her dark hair spilling into curls which eventually became flowers, leaves, and tree branches was a goddess among the rest.
Tia walked over.
“She is fiction.” Mataio came up next to her. “A university student painted it.”
“Who is she supposed to be?”
They glanced at each other, looked away.
“Ofaanga,” he said. “A story we’re told as children.”
“Are you going to tell me or will I have to resort to pulling your nails from your fingers?”
The right side of his mouth pulled back. “The story’s not important. It talks about there being fate in love, destined souls and whatnot. Things a young, lovesick university student would believe in.”
He started off, but she grabbed his wrist.
“If it’s about love, is there a complementary piece?” She lifted her hand near to but not tracing the colors. Everything in the estate was so precious, she didn’t want to ruin them with oily fingertips. It was the archaeologist’s cardinal sin, handling something that could one day be priceless without covering the hands.
Mataio placed her fingers on the painting. “You can touch it. You can do whatever you want.”
A faint ripple coiled in her stomach.
Tia traced a splash of blue color that wrapped with brown and green to form the hills of the woman’s breasts. “She looks like she’s waiting. This isn’t a woman standing on the beach because she’s posing for a cover shoot. This is heartache. I can feel it.” She gently swiped her fingers over the dark tendrils of hair. “Who are you waiting for, my love?”
After several beats of silence, Tia looked up to find Mataio staring down at her. Their gazes held, and she wished there was a way to know what he was thinking.
Release Date: January 1st
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