The Other Harkness

Bruno’s room was bathed in a greenish light, and the sounds of the game filled the space with explosions and futuristic effects. Rio was sitting on a pillow on the floor, while Bruno lay face down, propped up by a pillow.

Rio kept her promise, she came to play Eclipse Wars with him. However, Bruno didn’t seem too impressed with her performance.

“Aunt Rio, you have to protect the base." Bruno said, not taking his eyes off the screen. “It’s not just about shooting everything that shows up!”

“I’m protecting it!” Rio replied, frantically pressing the buttons. “Look, I knocked down that big one!”

Bruno let out a long, exasperated sigh. “That was our ally...”

Rio paused for a second, blinking at the screen as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “Oh. Well, he looked dangerous. Precaution.”

“Precaution?” Bruno rolled his eyes, gesturing with his hands. “You just keep pressing everything at once.”

“Hey, this technique has never failed me before.” Rio retorted, a mischievous smile on her face. “Wanna see?”

Suddenly, Rio’s ship started spinning in circles on the screen, firing lasers in all directions. Bruno began to laugh, certain of her defeat, as their base’s energy bar rapidly plummeted.

“You’re officially the worst Eclipse Wars player in history.” He declared.

A knock on the door interrupted their laughter, and Iva opened the door just enough to stick her head inside the room.

“Dinner’s ready, kids.” She said in a teasing tone. “Wash your hands before coming to the table, please.”

“Yay, I’m starving.” Bruno jumped up. “Mom, you had to see it, aunt Rio is worse than you at this game.”

Rio raised an eyebrow, pretending to be mad. “Ungrateful little brat...” she murmured but couldn’t hold back her smile as she followed him.

The table was set simply but warmly.

“This chicken is really good, Iva.” Rio commented, helping herself to a generous portion.

Iva smiled proudly and shrugged. “Nothing special, just the basics. But it’s nice to know you liked it. Craig helped make the sauce, so he deserves some credit too.” Craig, who was sitting next to Iva, raised his glass.

“When are you going to invite me to a cooking class?” Bruno asked, his mouth full of chicken.

“Hey, what did we say about talking with your mouth full, buddy?” Craig said.

Rio chuckled as she watched the boy chew quickly and swallow.

“Well, we can definitely do that. Whenever you want.” The offer was made, then.

"I’m sure I’ll be a better at cooking than you are a player." Laughter filled the dining room. However, Bruno didn’t seem to be joking.

"Hey, kid, don’t exaggerate!" Iva teased him. He shrugged, bringing his fork to his mouth again.

The dinner went on as usual, with Craig making jokes that weren’t really funny, but somehow ended up being funny in the end, and then Bruno asking for dessert a second time.

When everyone had finished a second round of ice cream, Iva served a glass of wine to Rio and one for herself.

"Is everything okay, Rio?" Iva asked, handing Rio her glass.

Rio sighed and shook her head. "I can’t stop thinking about her..."

"Her who?" Iva asked, a smile starting to form.

"Agatha." Rio admitted, somewhat reluctantly.

"Oh no!" Iva laughed. "You’re sounding like your teenage self! Just like when you got obsessed with the girl at the supermarket who smiled at everyone, but you thought it was just for you."

"I’m not obsessed with anyone." Rio defended herself. She wasn’t obsessed. Just thinking about Agatha a lot, every day and several times a day, but that didn’t mean she was obsessed.

"Obsessed with who?" Bruno suddenly appeared, curious.

"No one!" Rio quickly responded.

"Doesn’t sound like no one." Bruno retorted, with a mischievous grin.

Craig, who had just entered the kitchen with the silverware, intervened with a confused expression. "Obsessed? What’s going on here?"

"My God, there’s no privacy in this house anymore?" Rio let out a loud sigh.

"Rio is in love with a mysterious woman." Iva explained, laughing.

"I’m not in love!" Rio protested, exasperated.

"Oh, so just obsessed." Bruno added, as if it was obvious.

"You guys are impossible." Rio rolled her eyes, but a small smile gave away that she wasn’t really that upset.

"Have you tried looking her up online?" Bruno suggested.

"Of course not." Rio responded right away, furrowing her brow. "I’m not a stalker!"

Bruno shrugged. "Everybody does it these days."

Iva raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Oh, really? And what exactly are you basing that on? You don’t even have a phone!"

"Details, mom," Bruno responded calmly. "I’m just commenting because I’m a guy who’s plugged into global trends, even without a phone. Informed, you know?"

Craig laughed, putting the silverware in the dishwasher. "Okay, Mister Connected. But Rio, what’s the name of this mysterious woman?"

"Agatha." Rio answered, somewhat awkwardly.

"Okay, and does this Agatha have a last name?" He seemed to be enjoying the situation.

Rio hesitated for a second before saying. "Harkness. Agatha Harkness."

Iva narrowed her eyes as if the name triggered some distant memory. "Harkness... That name sounds familiar."

"What do you mean?"

"Wait." Iva grabbed her phone.

"I told you, everyone does it these days, look." Bruno smiled triumphantly.

"I knew it!" Iva turned the screen to show a series of photos and articles. "Agatha Harkness. She’s a photographer, and not just any photographer. She’s pretty well-known! Look at this!"

Bruno peered closely at the phone. "Wow. So you’re obsessed with a celebrity, aunt Rio? Moving up in the world, huh?"

Rio groaned, trying to grab her sister's phone. "I’m not obsessed."

"And in love?" Craig asked.

"You guys are terrible, and I hate you. Did you know that?" Rio muttered, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the screen Iva was still holding. And there was Agatha, at a gallery, holding a camera like the world was made to be captured by her.

"Well, looks like she’s got an exhibition at Stuart's Gallery until next week." Iva said, with a mocking smile. "If I were you, I wouldn’t miss it."

"It doesn’t matter, because I’m not going. This is nonsense." Rio feigned indifference. "She probably doesn’t even remember me, and if she does, she’s probably mad about the wine I threw at her."

"Wait, what part did I miss?" Bruno asked, with a curious look. "Why did you throw wine at her?"

Rio sighed, shaking her head. "That’s a story for another day, buddy."

Bruno squinted. "I won’t forget that."

"Let it go." Rio took a sip of her wine. "I’m not going to any exhibition."

Iva gave a cynical smile, shaking her head as she set her phone aside. "Alright, alright. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

The topic ended there, and it wasn’t long before Rio went back to her apartment.

And, of course, the first thing she did when she got home was open her laptop and search for Agatha's name, this time on her own.

She opened a recent article that talked about Agatha's new exhibition.

The one Rio was definitely not going to.

"Agatha Harkness: A Lens into Female Pleasure and Freedom"

Agatha Harkness, one of the most provocative and innovative photographers of recent years, is back at Stuart's Gallery for a short season.

Her new exhibition "Maiden, Mother, Crone: Her Body as Myth and Memory" promises to be a fresh wave in the contemporary scene, as Harkness returns to exploring female pleasure and freedom with her camera.

The exhibition showcases sincere and powerful portraits of the diversity of women's bodies, exploring with intimacy, sensitivity, and respect the complexity of female sexuality.

Agatha tells the story of female bodies with both delicacy and strength, giving voice and space to women who are often overlooked for various reasons.

With an approach that diverges from the traditionally objectified, Harkness invites you to a celebratory moment of freedom, which has become her trademark alongside the self-sufficiency of women, the essence of her photographic vision.

Harkness, 42, once again stood out in the scene by recently winning the Visionary Lens Awards, becoming the third woman in history to achieve such a feat. Her victory was seen as a milestone for female representation in contemporary art.

In an industry that still does not value women, Harkness stands out for having a dedicated audience, and she couldn't ask for anything better than that."

Wow.
Rio was fascinated.

Agatha was incredible. Incredibly talented. Incredibly powerful. Incredibly beautiful.

Rio couldn't stop reading about her. Seeing pictures of Agatha at events, exhibitions, and winning awards.

Rio's fascination grew with every article read, every picture seen, every work admired.

When she closed the laptop screen that night, she was sure of one thing. Maybe two, if she were honest.

Yeah, maybe she was obsessed. Not in a strange way, though.

And yes, she was going to that exhibition.

*

When Rio passed through the large glass doors of the main hall at Stuart’s Gallery, she wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting.

Sure, she was there to see Agatha’s exhibition, and to be honest, she was genuinely interested. But a part of her, not as small as she’d like to admit, hoped that Agatha would magically appear.

It wasn’t entirely impossible, she thought. After all, it was her exhibition. But that didn’t mean she’d be there on this particular late afternoon—it would be too much of a coincidence.

Rio glanced at the exhibition poster.

"Maiden, Mother, Crone: Her Body as Myth and Memory"

There was a minimalist but undeniably beautiful photograph. A woman, perhaps in her seventies, with her arms strategically positioned to cover her breasts while her hands rested on her chest. Her gaze was wise, but there was so much more behind it in the photo.

The first thing Rio noticed was that all the photographs were in black and white, and somehow, she felt that this made the work even more intimate.

The second thing she noticed was that the exhibition was divided into sections. The first was: "Maiden of Change: Skin as a Map of Freedom."

The first photograph was of a woman with bangs, covered in tattoos and piercings. She wore bold makeup, and it was clear how naturally it suited her. Her gaze was both sweet and fierce at the same time. In the photo, she was wearing only underwear, her legs crossed. It seemed simple, but it wasn’t. She wasn’t smiling at the camera, but Rio felt she didn’t need to, her body said it all.

The next photograph was of a woman with vitiligo. She was younger than the first and also wore only underwear. Her arms were stretched above her head, her hands meeting in the middle. She had a faint smile on her face, her eyes peacefully closed. Rio found it hard not to let out a small smile of her own.

The following photo featured a woman with short hair. The shot captured her from the waist up, and unlike the others, she was unclothed. She had a large scar and only one breast. Rio lingered a little longer on this image.

The woman’s body was illuminated by a light that made her appear almost ethereal, and she wore large earrings that perfectly framed her face. She had a serene smile, like someone completely at peace with herself. Rio moved closer to the image, noticing the freckles on the woman’s face and how, even though her smile wasn’t wide, it still reached her eyes. This image wasn’t about pain or loss, it was a portrait of a beautiful woman, it was about her, and nothing else.

She continued through the other photographs, growing more curious, more eager for the next details her eyes might uncover.

By the time she reached the next section, Rio found herself thinking about what it truly meant to see someone and how Agatha did it with such mastery.

The next section was titled "Mother of Stories: The Body as a Chronicle."

The first photograph was of a woman breastfeeding a baby. Her hand was strategically positioned to carefully cover the baby’s face, preserving the child’s privacy. She had a watchful gaze, and the hint of a smile softened her face.

The next photo featured a mother and her daughter. The daughter seemed to be around 50 years old, Rio observed, and the mother perhaps 30 years older. Rio noticed the marks of time on both their faces, how they told different stories that, in the end, intertwined into the same one. They resembled each other greatly, the same large eyes, the same nose. Rio noted how they were wearing identical outfits as they posed side by side.

The following photograph was of a pregnant woman sitting in a wheelchair. Her head was slightly bowed, her gaze focused on her belly, which looked to be about six or seven months along, Rio guessed. She wore only a bra, her hands gently cradling her stomach.

Rio moved on, losing her breath and then catching it again with each new photograph, with each new wave of emotion the images stirred within her.

By the time she reached the final section, her chest swelled with admiration, not just for Agatha, but for all the women in the photographs.

The last section was titled "The Wisdom of the Crone: Beauty Beyond Time."

The very first photograph made Rio’s heart warm. It was stunning, breathtakingly so.

A woman, probably around 65, Rio estimated, with long hair cascading like a waterfall, streaked with white. She had the most joyful smile Rio had ever seen. Like some of the women in earlier photos, she wasn’t wearing a bra, but her hair served as a curtain, while her hands held a section of the long skirt she wore, as if she were gathering the fabric mid-dance. If happiness had a face, it would look like hers, Rio thought.

The next photograph showed a woman, perhaps the same age as the previous one, with short, bold, layered hair. She was turned more to the back, but her head was tilted to the side, revealing an ear adorned with piercings and a tattoo on her back displaying a date: 1987. The tattoo was somewhat roughly done, but Rio thought that might be the best part.

The next image took Rio’s breath away. It was of a couple, two older women, more so than the ones in previous photos. Once again, neither was wearing a bra, but every inch of one woman’s skin was pressed against the other’s, their lips meeting as if they were one. Rio noticed a wedding ring on the hand of one woman, resting on the other’s shoulder.

She felt her eyes sting with tears at the sight of it.

She continued until she reached the end of the exhibition, where one final photograph was displayed. It was a self-portrait of Agatha. The image was simple, yet it struck something deep within Rio.

It was clear that Agatha wasn’t wearing any clothes, though the photo only captured her from the collarbone up. She had no makeup on, her hair slightly messy, and she wore only a necklace that adorned her neck, though Rio couldn’t see all of it. Agatha wasn’t smiling, but her gaze was piercing. Rio felt a shiver run through her skin as she stared into those clear, beautiful eyes, set perfectly within a striking face.

As Rio headed toward the exit, she felt different from when she had arrived. Driving toward the restaurant, she couldn’t get those photographs out of her mind. Perhaps it was the soul of Agatha, so vividly exposed in her work, but Rio couldn’t help but wonder: Is it possible to feel touched by someone you don't even really know?

*

When Rio entered the restaurant that evening, she didn’t expect Hannah, the receptionist, to tell her that a woman was asking to see her. She also couldn’t explain how or why, but she knew exactly who the woman was.

When Hannah pointed in Agatha’s direction, Rio let out an anxious sigh before starting to walk. She wanted to see Agatha so badly, but the idea of meeting her right after catching a glimpse of who she was through her lens... it made her nervous.

And after all, what was Agatha doing there?

She was sitting with her back to her. Her hair was loose this time, longer than Rio had imagined. A sudden urge to touch it surged in Rio, though she knew that would definitely be strange.

Her legs faltered a little, and she felt somewhat pathetic. Come on, she mentally scolded herself.

She exhaled softly before closing the remaining distance to where Agatha was seated.

"I heard someone was looking for me." As Agatha turned to face her, Rio silently congratulated herself for not letting her nervousness show in her voice.

Agatha smiled, a genuine smile this time. "And here you are." she said.

"It’s not every day someone asks to speak with the restaurant owner," Rio replied with a smile of her own. "Did something happen?"

Agatha pursed her lips as if deep in thought. "Oh, you know, just a woman who spilled wine on me. I don’t think that’s typical of your restaurant, is it?"

"No, no, definitely not." Rio answered in the same playful tone. "Don’t worry, proper measures will be taken."

"And what would those measures be?"

"I could offer you a bottle of wine as an apology. And two glasses at the table, if you’d like to keep my company."

Agatha’s smile returned. "As long as you’re not throwing anything at me this time, I’d very much like to keep your company."

Rio pressed her tongue against her cheek. "Alright, give me two minutes, and then you can tell me what brought you here."

Without waiting for a response, Rio turned and headed toward the wine cellar, where the restaurant’s finest bottles were kept.

On her way back, she ran into Hector, one of her best staff members.

"Chef," he nodded. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, everything’s fine," she replied with a smile. "Just a small change of plans tonight, I need to handle something."

"Of course," he answered. His reply was short, but Rio caught the tone, it was as if he knew something.

Well, what workplace didn’t have its fair share of gossip, right?

She hurried back to the table where Agatha was waiting. She couldn’t help but notice Agatha’s eyes fixed on her as she opened the bottle of wine. Once both glasses were filled, Rio handed one to Agatha. "M’lady."

"Quick question before we start," Agatha said, holding her glass in her left hand. "Is it okay for the restaurant owner to be sitting and drinking wine with a customer?"

"Well, there’s nothing about it in the rule book, so yes, I guess it’s fine." Rio joked.

"Great." Agatha brought the wine to her lips, but her gaze never left Rio.

"You see..." Rio began. "I was hoping to see you tonight. Not here, exactly, but I was hoping to see you."

"And how exactly were you hoping to see me?"

"Let’s just say I was at your exhibit at Stuart’s earlier today before coming here." Rio saw the moment Agatha’s eyes flooded with surprise.

"You were at the gallery today? To see my exhibit?" The surprise in her eyes was also evident in her voice. Rio simply nodded before Agatha continued. "And how exactly did you find out I had an exhibit there?"

A slight blush tinged Rio’s cheeks, and she took a sip of her wine before speaking, hoping Agatha hadn’t noticed or would assume it was the wine’s effect.

"I might have looked up your name online." she admitted softly, as if someone besides Agatha could overhear her confession. "Is this the part where you think I’m weird?"

Agatha laughed, and Rio searched her face for any sign of discomfort, but there was nothing but amusement.

"If I thought that was weird, then it would also apply to me." Rio frowned slightly, not understanding what Agatha meant. Her expression was enough for Agatha to elaborate. "Well, you weren’t the only one who searched for the other online. Although I think it was easier for you since I didn’t even knew your name, but I looked up your restaurant and found you quickly."

Rio’s expression shifted. So Agatha had searched for her, too, which meant she had been on Agatha’s mind, right?

"Then I must say I’m flattered." And she truly was. And if this was strange, at least she hadn’t been strange alone. "I hadn’t realized I didn’t introduce myself that night."

"Rio Vidal." It was, in fact, the first time Agatha had said her name, and Rio felt like she could get addicted to hearing Agatha say it. "I like it, it suits you."

"Thank you." Rio took another sip of her wine. "So, what brings you here tonight?"

"I believe it's the same reason you went to Stuart’s earlier." Agatha countered, raising one eyebrow slightly. "I think I just wanted to see you."

Rio felt a warmth rise to her cheeks, surprised but unwilling to show how much that comment affected her. She gave a small smile, trying to appear more casual than she actually felt. "You wanted to see me? Why?"

Agatha leaned back in her chair, observing Rio with a look that was a mix of curiosity and something harder to define. "I’m not sure. But you’ve been on my mind since that night."

Rio nodded, her eyes never leaving Agatha’s. She hadn’t expected something so simple yet so laden with intention.

"So, what did you think of the exhibition? I’m curious." Agatha said again. Rio had anticipated this question.

"Powerful." Was the first word that left Rio’s mouth. "In every sense of the word. Honest. Sensitive. Moving." Rio kept listing her thoughts, and Agatha seemed pleased to hear them. Not because Rio was complimenting her, but because she had understood.

"That makes me very happy, truly." There was sincerity in her voice. Rio knew they had been flirting earlier—she wasn’t naive—but there was a shift in Agatha’s tone now, one that made Rio realize once again how much Agatha’s work meant to her. It was the same way Rio felt about doing what she loved. "Maybe you should come back to the gallery sometime. I could give you a full tour."

"I’d love that. And I have to say, the way you divided the exhibition into three parts, I thought it was genius." Rio noticed Agatha touch a necklace she hadn’t realized was around her neck, hidden beneath her blouse. Her mind wandered back to the self-portrait and guessed it might be the same necklace.

"I really appreciate that." Agatha’s voice was soft, and Rio could have listened to her speak all night. "And what about you? How long have you had the restaurant?"

"Not long, almost two years now. It was a dream for a long time, and I finally made it happen. Sometimes it still doesn’t feel real." Rio smiled, a mix of pride and ease on her face.

Agatha had a focused look, the kind that showed genuine interest. "And when did it all start? You, your connection with food?"

"Well, I come from a Puerto Rican family, and I don’t know if you’ve ever been around a Latin family," Rio smiled, and Agatha shook her head in denial. "But no one in the world can rival us when it comes to food. Because it’s not just a dish, it’s not just cooking something and serving it. It’s more than that. There’s so much history behind it, and most people don’t even realize it. I remember weekend lunches at my grandmother’s house, the smell of the spices, the loud voices... I always stayed in the kitchen with her, even though she didn’t really like having people around while she cooked." Rio laughed at the memory. "But she always let me stay."

For a moment, she remained silent, letting the memories flood her mind and heart, while Agatha continued to watch her with curiosity.

"I guess cooking has always been a way of communicating for me, you know? After my grandma passed away, recreating her dishes was how I found comfort, it was like a warm hug." Agatha could see how much this meant to Rio because she spoke with the same intensity Agatha recognized in herself. "When I make something that pleases someone, I feel happy. I feel like it’s all worth it. But my favorite moments are when I’m testing a new recipe or recreating a family dish, alone in my apartment... I think that’s my idea of freedom, you know? I’d say it’s when I feel more beautiful, more like myself."

Agatha leaned slightly forward, as if she were absorbing every word Rio said.

"That’s what food means to me. It’s about my family, about my grandmother, about my cultural heritage. And this restaurant is like putting down roots."

"That’s so beautiful," Agatha commented, her eyes reflecting a glimmer of empathy. "And truly powerful."

"That means a lot coming from you." Agatha stayed silent for a moment, clearly touched by the depth of Rio’s answer. She gave a small, genuine smile, and her gaze seemed softer, more connected to Rio than before.

"You should try one of my recipes someday." Rio gave a subtle smile.

"That sounds like an invitation." Agatha arched her eyebrows.

"If it is... would you say yes?"

"I’d say this time I’ll bring the wine." It was hard not to smile again at Agatha’s response.

"Oh yes, please, or else you’ll broke my restaurant." Rio joked.

Agatha laughed, unlocking her phone, and then placed it in front of Rio.

"Put your number in." Agatha looked at Rio, her gaze carrying a gentle air of challenge.

Rio took the phone from her hand, their fingers brushing slightly. She saved her number on Agatha’s phone and handed it back.

"Perfect." Agatha said. "I think I should get going." Rio knew this moment would come, but she had hoped they’d have more time. A part of her wanted to ask Agatha to stay a little longer, but instead, she nodded and said she’d walk her to the door.

"So," Rio said, feeling the cold night air hit her. "Don’t I get your number in return?"

"Of course. You can save it as soon as I send you a message." Agatha’s eyes held a feigned innocence, but Rio could see a spark in them.

Oh, this woman.

Before Rio could think of a reply, Agatha suddenly leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. Rio froze for a second, surprised by the unexpected gesture, feeling warmth rise to her face.

"See you." Agatha said with a gentle smile, her eyes meeting Rio’s one last time.

Rio was still a little stunned by the gesture but managed to smile back, her face flushed. "Te veo."

She watched Agatha walk away and then step into a black car parked a few meters away.

Her cheek still felt warm where Agatha’s lips had touched her skin. For someone who had tried to convince herself not to attend Agatha’s exhibition, the night had turned out far better than she could have ever imagined.