After Hours

"Dr. Pepper."

"Okay, what size?" I asked.

"Large?"

".... We're coming up on 9PM, don't you think it's a bit late for that much caffeine? How about apple juice? Smoothie?"

Will paused, and with a mildly put-out expression, "a mango smoothie."

"Alright, here's your number. Try to keep them focused, hm?"

Will nodded and took "14" off the counter, returning to the booth in the corner where his friends were goofing off. Will was one of the more "mature" ones. Even though he was rough around the edges like the rest of them, he'd learned the value of "time and place" more than some of the other guys who couldn't seem to go three sentences without cracking a joke.

Speaking of goofing off, "Hey, Matthew, help me out!" The vibrant piano reverberating off the walls quieted in response and settled into some smooth jazz. Haha, he runs this place not me I laugh. Lit looked like all his lessons had paid off, he could command the mood in the room with a few chords at this point.

I turn from the counter to start Will's smoothie and a draft hits my back. A few long strides later a warmth melts the feeling away and two arms hug my waist. Physical touch wasn't my love language until I met Mark, but we've been married two years already and I'm becoming the one who can't keep my hands to myself.

"Hey, how was work?"

"Okay. That contract I told you about last night isn't going as well as it could."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, it's fine. How was your day?"

"Heyyyyyy it's Mr. Williams." Three teenage boys walked up to the bar and one by one gave Mark ("Mr. Williams") their respective handshake.

"Sam, can you give this to Will?"

"Sure!" Sam finished his handshake, saluted Mark, and took the mango smoothie to the corner booth.

"There are a good number of kids here tonight."

"Yeah, several grades have a math test on Thursday so tonight is cram night."

"...Hon, we really need to make a decision."

"...I know."

"I know you know, but we need to make a decision soon. Like, next week. We don't have the budget to keep this place going. I know you've cut out a lot of things to keep it open but it's just not enough."

"Well what are all these kids going to do? Go back home? Will's parents both work until late, Matthew's mom got in a car accident the other day, and Ben's can't be bothered to help him with his schoolwork."

"Okay but you can't be a mom to all of them, Mary. I still think we should talk to the ladies at the after school program about it and see what they can do."

"It's not the same. And the after school program closes at 5PM."

"Well, something needs to change. We can't afford to keep a bar open when it doesn't actually sell drinks. We're just burning money."

I felt like pouting. He's not wrong. I know I'm being idealistic but I can't just drop things... And I don't want to. Papa left this to me.

"Your papa isn't going to roll over in his grave if you let go of a building - especially if it's one that's making life difficult for you, you know that."

It was like Mark could read my mind. It's an odd thing to feel love and annoyance for someone at the same time.

Remembering Papa made my eyes wander across the room - over all the walls, frames, scratches in the paneling, lights. There were so many memories. There was also a clock that read five minutes to 11PM.

"Alright everyone, ten minutes 'til closing!"

After a moment the room erupted into the sound of clinking glasses, scuffling chairs and the rustling of homework papers. Will was setting the corner booth in order, doing his best to make my routine cleanup light and easy. Thanks to him it often took me twenty minutes to close up instead of thirty-five. I turned to wash a stack of smoothie glasses and spoons.

Half an hour later the door to the old building was locked, and the kids had split off into small bands, chatting off and into the dark towards home.

An hour later and I was in bed, my head on Mark's chest. He mumbled something.

"What?"

"You're doing a good job."

I laughed. "I could be doing better." He sighed in response, and I felt a kiss on my forehead.

"You're the only one who pushes yourself this much."

"Haha, and I should be."

".....Mary. It wasn't your fault. No one blames you - I don't blame you, and your papa never did."

Mark had told me this so many times, but it hadn't unraveled the knot inside me.

The knot would stay with me for a long time. But every day it loosened, little by little. With every smoothie, every hour spent helping Matthew with grammar, every pep talk, I could feel it.

Years went by and the kids moved up through the grades. There were always more. The bar didn't last - but Mark and I opened up our apartment instead. It was pretty small, but it was enough.

"...Mark." I whispered one night as we crawled into bed.

"Yeah?"

"Can we go see them tomorrow?"

"Of course, I'll drive you over after work."

I looked up from my watch and down our road as Mark drove into sight. He smiled and reminded me not to squish the flowers as I sat down in the front passenger seat. There was one white bouquet and a second smaller one made of blue buds, as usual. The iron gate creaked as our car pulled up to the entrance, like it was saying "hello, it's good to see you again."

I got out of the car, and Mark walked over to my side, flowers in hand. He set them down gently in their places, kissed my forehead, and got back in the car to wait for me.

The wind was cold. It stung a little bit.

"Hi, papa. I don't really have any good stories today. The kids were pretty chill this week, which is weird - usually they're high on that manic energy... I miss you... Ben..." I forced my eyes to turn to the second stone.

"... Ben.... There's a new sixth grader - he came for the first time on Monday.... he reminds me of you. He likes legos too. He saw your spaceship one on top of the cabinet and got excited - his mom got him that one for his birthday last year..."

I couldn't really string any more words together after that. But I still wanted to tell him - so I stood there, crying like a child, trying to get it out.

"... one of the kids asked if they could come with me to see you sometime... and I thought you'd be okay with it, so he might come with me... next week... I'm trying, Ben... They all... they all remind me of you.... I'm... I'm sorry..."

I felt two arms wrap around my waist. It was quiet for a minute.

"You know what he would tell you, right?" Mark asked.

"....No...."

"You're doing a good job."

"Mr. Williams!"

The house exploded as Mark opened the front door to the apartment.

"Mrs. Williams look! I FINALLY figured it out!"

I smiled and laughed. One of the girls looked at me with a sober expression. Another girl in seventh grade walked up to me and gave me a hug.

"...You're doing a good job, Mrs. Williams."

... I smiled, "thanks Katie... so are you."