Mallory pulled at the thickly woven satin harness and clicked the chrome hasp into its familiar female counterpart, catching the fleshy part of her palm between the metal intercourse. An ampule of physical pain was instantly added to what felt like a quick-forced bolus of emotions being pushed intravenously through her sickly system. Her distress, displayed in the ever-growing tree trunk forming between her brows, had increased to asthmatic fury by the time Nate had cozily nestled his tall frame into the driver's side seat, releasing an irritating, satisfied sigh.
The day spent with Mallory's family, announcing their engagement, was made longer by the fact that she had ordered, indeed demanded, his picture-perfect behavior though he seemed to have dealt with it all in typical masculine paralysis; on the lay-z-boy, with a beer, watching the ball game. How was it that he was left uninfected by the contagion that she found spread so rampant in her gene pool?
Mother, with her annoying preening habits, always picking something off sweaters and adjusting tie knots. What did she know of fashion anyway? And why was she always trying to "fix" things anyhow? There were old wounds, deep wounds, caused by her hands, for which she was still trying to apply salve. It seemed like each time they would begin to heal she would pick the scab just so she could make them feel better again.
And her father, a perpetually disaffectionate man, drank too much of the clan's corn whiskey like all the other men in the family. While the women, severely frail in education, had no greater goal in life than to serve their food and raise their children. She wondered how she survived, and eventually escaped, their Appalachian tendencies.
Nate, noting her discomfort, offered his hand into hers, "Come on, Mall. They aren't THAT bad" he said. By
now they were far enough away from the cabin where she was both born and raised, so that her breathing
pattern started to stabilize.
"I just can't believe I finally let you meet them" she stumbled slowly across the words.
"Let me?" he countered, "you act as if they're some kind of circus freaks."
Mallory retrieved the photograph, the only one she had of her anomalous family, from an envelope her
mother had slipped into her coat pocket on the way out the door. She gazed at the disheveled trio who
stood, oddly proud, before the dilapidated shack.
"You know, Mallory, your mom gave me an envelope too" he admitted.
"H-m" she breathed, distracted. Still peering at the photo. Her mom's dry, ratted hair. Her father's dirty
overalls.
"Honey, did you hear me?" said Nate.
"Yeah, yeah, an envelope. What is it, another picture?" she guessed, sneering at the holes in her mom's
ragged dress.
No, Mall, it's not a picture. Though it might draw a different one than the one you have." he offered.
"W-hat, Nate? what are you talking about, now?"
He broke the seal on the yellow, padded-envelope and extracted a thick ---- stack of money.
"Your parents thought it was time for you to have this" said Nate. "They said they worked their whole lives
to acquire it."
By the time she had finished calculating the cash, more than $75,000, the couple had safely returned to
their upscale townhouse apartment. Mallory again picked up the portrait and indeed saw a very different
picture.
The picture became an X-ray.
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