Tim

that night he quickly discovered there was indeed a universal reaction of every single person who innocently leaned into the fridge for a beer.  a slight shiver down the spine then an achingly slow upward tilt of the head. obviously the uneasy feeling of someone or something boring smoky acid holes in the top of one's head warrants proceeding with great caution in order to confront the unknown assailant. the flip book of facial expressions tended to be somewhat identical. first, a tiny quick smile of relief. seemingly relief that one was not to be the recipient of a razor sharp axe to the base of the skull. next, the wide eyes and furrowed brow of utter shock.  then the grimace and pursed lips of pure unadulterated disgust. finally a gleeful grin always of course accompanied by a shrill cackle and boisterous bellow to the living room to "Come and see this man!". he'd known precisely the scene that would unfold when his party guests confronted the menacing stare from the two beady green eyes deeply engorged in the too fat, too pimply, too ugly, mustachioed face of dreaded cousin Rhonda. granted a mere photo of Rhonda, but menacing nonetheless.

he'd vowed the second the party ended to bury the offensive photo where it belonged, in one of the several dilapidated, moth eaten shoe boxes that reside in the depths of his closet.  when he received the picture attached to his beleaguered grandmother's increasingly dire semi-annual family newsletter he knew the giant, glittery red heart framing a beaming Rhonda ensconced in that ratty, once-white rabbit fur shrug (attempting what he was sure she believed to be her very best impression of a smile) would be the perfect party fodder for this relentlessly ironic bunch he was trying so desperately to impress tonight. he'd like to say it was just a convenient joke, that he bore no ill will towards Rhonda, however he did... 
he abhorred every molecule, every particle, every quark of Cousin Rhonda. there were scant few people, things, places, theories, concepts, political movements or religious ideologies that he hated more than he hated her.  the torture he suffered at her hands on a daily basis as a somewhat quiet, internal kid morphed him into a violently, shy adolescent.  in his mind effectively relegating him to solitude and shadows.
 
he'd been telling everyone all night that his mom had sprung one of her infamous visits/inspections on him earlier in the day and it was merely a matter of familial obligation that this monstrous example of horribly unbalanced x chromosomes was so prominently displayed in his home.  all of which was true...in part. 

Cousin Rhonda certainly had managed to serve dual purposes today.  jolted awake from a fever dream of being chased in infinite circles around Starbucks by a prowling pack of feral cats he cursed himself for not setting the alarm.  as usual, panic swiftly ensued when his mom pressed her perfectly french manicured nail long and hard on his door buzzer 20 minutes earlier than she was expected.  he actually found himself silently thanking Rhonda when he spotted the photo carelessly strewn on the kitchen table underneath unopened final notices from Con Ed, useless credit card offers and the postcard from his ex he refused to read.  as he sprinted to the door, maniacally contorting his body into positions he's only dreamed of achieving during sex, he simultaneously stuffed his legs into his jeans and attempted to tame the oily, black mop of waves that had become his unkempt hair in the past two months.  with one hand he swiped the mail, a half eaten bagel, two brownish green crystallized fries and a Maxim into the garbage, just barely managing to save the now coveted photo.  he figured it was the most appropriate (and closest) thing he could grab large enough to even partially obscure the ancient, mismatched yellowing stains of rotten egg yolks, bacon grease and tomato sauce smeared to perfection on the refrigerator door.  without fail, every time she entered the apartment she'd casually trace an invisible circle of disgust and disappointment around the kitchen table pressing her imaginary white gloved fingertips lightly against the linoleum counters and the antiquated microwave.  ending in front of the refrigerator, she'd utter the same carefully chosen and well rehearsed words in her crispest, WASPy New England accent (the poshest of all her fake accents) "Timothy (never, ever Tim), it's as if you're trying to immortalize the wretched stench of three day old pizza and opened cans of stale Budweiser".  it was the only beer of which she claimed to know the name.  she said an annoyingly jocular neighbor once offered her one at a garden party (a cookout in layman's terms) instead of her standard white wine.

initially this morning she could barely summon forth an indifferent shrug in the face of Cousin Rhonda.  although the eyes kneaded away at the nadir of his mother's widow's peak causing all the veins on her right temple to pulse uncontrollably trying unsuccessfully to escape from her head she persisted with her inspection and her needling unperturbed.  he was well aware that any mention of the "other" family was a most unwelcome reminder of the plebian girl that she imagined to have left behind so long ago.  lately during these visits however, there was a surprising frequency to the conversations they fell into that involved "that woman and those people".  and much to his chagrin, conversations that have increasingly ended with wilder and wilder recriminations, most unfortunate revelations and poorly hidden watery eyes.  a few years ago he would've reveled in the grand spectacle of her lying, posturing and pitiful denials but lately it's simply exhausting and he'd rather not deal with it.  as soon as she allowed herself to linger for one second on Rhonda's face he could see in the shiny flecks of grey around her dusty green orbs just how this conversation was going to end. immediately his detest for Cousin Rhonda sprang anew with refreshed adult vim and vigor.  she'd helped him to avoid one gut wrenching conversation with his mother by indulging her in an even worse one.