3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
The Art Cards from Nowhere
RAFA
Autumn Town
The art show opened in an hour, and the air in Sal’s office was ripe with anticipation, excitement, and dread.
The art show would run for four days, and they hoped to sell most of Claire’s sculptures and the major collection, The Art Cards from Nowhere.
Claire’s passing while she was creating it, and Sal completing it after her death, became part of the art show’s allure.
There was something haunting and romantic about the completion of art after death.
Even non-locals had taken the scenic trip to St. Stephenshire, if not for the emotional pull, then just out of sheer curiosity.
Sal had the frames strategically hung from the ceiling of the main hall at eye level, creating the illusion of floating and ornately framed cards upon entering the showroom.
Willow designed fairy lights to line the pathway and steadily guide their visitors through the entire exhibit.
Rafa had witnessed the planning and execution of the entire show and felt a swell of pride rise within him when he saw it come to life.
Rafa imagined how the coming visitors would view it—tall marble archways leading to the show would greet them after they’d traipsed through the garden.
Then they would arrive at their final destination—an otherworldly collection of floating artwork among glowing cloud lamps that enticed them to step in further and discover the paintings of St. Stephenshire, with the redecorated exhibit hall making it appear they were floating in the clouds.
Sal, Willow, and the art students had certainly outdone themselves.
He recalled fondly how different this space looked back then, and how it all started.
It was a humid afternoon, and Sal had just emerged from her outdoor patio with flushed cheeks and red fingertips from fitting all the cards into specialized frames.
“It’s finally done, babe!” she exclaimed, pulling him by the wrist with surprising force.
He nearly tripped on his way toward the large double French doors leading to the outdoor patio.
As he regained his footing, he shifted his gaze to an interesting sight; on the worktable, he saw a collection of over fifty postcard-sized depictions of St. Stephenshire’s most visited places, each painted in gouache with haiku-style poems, framed in double-glazed frames that allowed one to view both sides of the painted cards in stunning detail.
Sal chose double-sided frames, so they showed both the front and the back of the painting—like it was sealed inside a clear acrylic block, with wood lining the corners to hold it all together.
Rafa remembered letting out a satisfied grin as he saw his fiancée’s hard work.
Her skillful hands from her time as a dentist never left her, and the precision showed in her art.
“I can’t believe Claire and I finally finished an art project together.
” She beamed, her dark eyes shining like precious obsidian.
Rafa hugged her from behind. “Look at what you two created,” he said, and he felt her relax into his arms. “Are you really going to sell them all?” he asked.
She squeezed his hand and answered, “I’ll keep that one.” She pointed at one of the framed postcards.
Rafa squinted to get a clearer view. It was a striking painting of the night sky peering over illuminated coconut trees.
Sal picked it up from the neatly lined frames and showed Rafa something written in brown ink behind the painted card in what appeared to be Claire’s handwriting. It read, “Sal and Claire, sisters today and forever.”
“Claire painted it,” she muttered, her round, dark eyes looking downward from underneath her thick lashes. “I miss her.”
She set the framed painting on the table, and he embraced her and kissed her softy on the forehead. “I miss her too. But if I know Claire, she’s somewhere in the stars, making sure you earn another win.”
“Not just me,” Sal said, resting her head on his chest. “Us…together. Come what may.”
Rafa smiled, then said, “Yes, come what may.”
Rafa watched Sal pace back and forth nervously as he sat in her quaint office.
He peered out the window and noted a steady flow of visitors entering the lobby.
The presence of the cats usually kept Sal calm during events.
So Kimmy and Hana purred peacefully on her office sofa as she continued to fret.
“Hey, what can I do to make you less nervous?” he said.
“It’s just…”—she fidgeted with her fingers as she spoke—“my parents and my sisters and everyone in town is going to be here.” She started fanning her hands as if she had just touched something hot. “What if the art doesn’t sell? I don’t think I could bear the disappointment.”
Rafa stood up slowly and placed his hands tenderly on both her shoulders. “Sal…” He bent over so he was eye level with her. “Please breathe. I’m right here. Everything will be all right.”
After a few deep breaths, her hands had at least stopped shaking. “I’m serious, though,” she muttered softly. “What if we don’t sell as much as we’d hoped?”
Admittedly, the pressure to earn from this art show was heavier now.
With his business going through an internal investigation, he couldn’t spare extra funds for Autumn Town.
But now wasn’t the time to unload that on Sal.
He didn’t know what to say except, “We’ll figure it out. Please, just focus on tonight.”
“You’re right, one step at a time. There’s no use worrying about it now.
” She closed her eyes for a second or two, then with one deep inhale, she breathed out an audible “Hah!” and gripped Rafa’s hands.
Her hands felt so small and soft within his grasp.
She looked up at him, her eyes shining with hope and resolve, and said, “Come what may?”
His heart skipped a beat as he met her gaze and hugged her.
Whenever their bodies touched, it felt like the universe was working to push them further to what lay waiting, be it salvation or ruin.
She slowly released herself from the embrace, and he said as on an exhale, “Come what may.” Rafa didn’t know if Sal felt it too, but for a brief moment, he felt they were unstoppable.
SAL
Her knees buckled and her heart raced, but her determination to make this art show a success only grew stronger. She told herself this was a good type of nervousness. Now, if only she could stop worrying about whether her mom would find her before her opening speech.
Ever since she left her healthcare career behind for the autumn sunrises of St. Stephenshire, she had faced condescending, albeit ignorant, comments from her family, friends, and inner circle.
People who spent most of their lives chasing the same empty vessels of success thought she was mad, and those who secretly wanted to escape the never-ending rat race either resented her or called her privileged and impractical.
But Sal wouldn’t think about that now. For tonight, she would just not give a damn.
With Rafa’s hand in hers, she moved through the crowd, her eyes dead set on the platform where she’d deliver her opening remarks.
She said hello to those she passed and nodded respectfully with a smile each time.
At the rate she was going, it would take her so long to reach the platform that the program would probably be delayed.
Rafa must’ve caught on to her rising panic, because he placed his large hands on her shoulders and lightly prodded her along after letting people know with his charming smile, “Sorry, everyone, but our art director needs to open the event now.”
“Is that the fiancé of the art director? What a catch,” Sal overheard someone say as he guided her through the crowd.
He was irresistible, of course. Rafa was respectable, handsome, firm when he had to be, from a wonderful family, and Sal knew, just based on the stares she got, that they were sizing her up against him.
She smiled to herself, partly in pride because she had such a capable partner, and strangely with relief, because she had found an equal in Rafa.
All those she dated before paled compared to what she had with Rafa; their shiny accomplishments and grandiose titles were nothing next to someone as well-rounded as her fiancé.
“Finally.” She exhaled as her heels clacked toward the platform.
Just as she was about to begin the opening speech, a distinct laugh emerged from the crowd.
“Mom?” Sal turned to see her mother in what appeared to be a rhinestone jumpsuit, flawless makeup, sky-high heels, and hair neatly fixed in a French bun that made her head look much bigger than it actually was.
“Wow…” she said, willing herself to remain as poker-faced as possible. She said, “You look like…” Her mind blanked. Like a human chandelier?
“Like the mother of the art show director,” her mother almost purred in her usual haughty tone.
She held an ornate fan that she used to fan herself from the imaginary heat.
Standing on either side of her mother were her other family members: her father and her younger sister, Nora.
Morgan, her older sister, had sent her regrets for not being able to attend the art show.
This was an unprecedented show of pride from her mother.
It was only when Sal announced she was the art director that the silence between her and her mother broke.
Her strained relationship with her, and subsequently with her other family members, was just one of the many after-effects of choosing to live a life that didn’t fit their expectations for her.
She told herself she should have been used to the debilitating void where maternal warmth should have been.
But whenever she saw her mother smile at her sisters or laugh at her father’s jokes, she wondered what it felt like to be valued that much by someone who should have loved her unconditionally.
Sal felt a soft squeeze on her shoulders. It was Rafa.
“Go on,” Rafa whispered, as though aware that Sal was losing her confidence, “You’ll do great. You’ve practiced the speech with me nearly a hundred times; you know what to say.”
Sal nodded and stood on the platform, focusing on the crowd.
She just wanted to get this over and done with before her nerves got the better of her.
She took a deep breath and fixed her sight on a random spot where her eyes could rest in the middle of the audience.
But her gaze was drawn to a magnetic presence in the sea of artgoers.
The man was impossibly still, a statuesque figure clad in a chocolate-brown three-piece suit.
His features were captivating. The jet-black side-parted hair and pale, cool-toned skin highlighted his other dark features.
Only his eyes registered some kind of softness, like two black coals that lit up with warmth.
He was staring right back at her. He then slowly blinked after offering a restrained smile.
Electricity ran through Sal’s veins. Her ears felt hot, and her heart raced under the magnetic man’s careful gaze. She had never experienced this sensation, not even with Rafa.
She took another deep breath and called everyone’s attention.
Then she gave her speech, but she continued to meet the man’s eyes.
The strange rush of excitement from him watching her pushed her through the rest of her opening remarks.
Sal had never encountered someone who took up so much air in the room; she once believed Rafa was like that, but this man was something else entirely.
It was as though he had willed her attention to stay fixed on him throughout the entire speech.
By the time she was done, her eyes shifted to Rafa, who was smiling proudly, oblivious to the fact that she had been drawn in by another.