Free Iris Avenue by Pamela Grandstaff

his own flesh and blood,” Bonnie said. “I guess I’m the only person who still believes a man is innocent until proven guilty.”
    Maggie, who knew way more about what Brian was capable of than their mother, resisted the temptation to enlighten her on her first born son’s greedy and murderous impulses. She could tell that far from consoling her mother, she was only agitating her, so she got up to leave. Of course, that was wrong, too.
    “Don’t mind us,” Bonnie said. “We’ll let you know when they shoot your brother down like a rabid dog. I’m sure it will be in all the papers, if you’re interested. Will you be able to make the time to come to the funeral, do you think?”
    Maggie walked out the back door and her Aunt Delia followed.
    “She’s beside herself,” Delia started but Maggie interrupted.
    “Don’t even try,” Maggie said. “She only becomes more who she is when she’s upset. This is when I get to see how she really feels, as if I didn’t already know.”
    “I’m so sorry,” Delia said, and hugged her. “You’re a good girl, Mary Margaret, and you’ve been good to your family. She knows that. I don’t know why she can’t acknowledge it.”
    “I was late getting here because I was running the bakery she walked out of this morning.”
    “I know.”
    “Will I need to open it tomorrow?”
    “I’ll find out and let you know.”
    “Has anyone called Sean?”
    “He’s coming as soon as he can get away; it may be tomorrow or the next day. It’s complicated, he said, but he’ll be here.”
    “That should please her. She likes him.”
    Delia shook her head.
    Maggie walked down the alley next to the wall that separated the college from the town. She walked all the way to the college entrance on Rose Hill Avenue without worrying about anyone jumping out at her. She thought the way she felt right now she could tear a man apart with her bare hands if he so much as looked at her funny. She walked around the block behind her store and went upstairs to her apartment without looking in on the staff. She was afraid of what she might say if anyone spoke to her.
    The phone was ringing in her kitchen and she ran down the hall to answer it, but was too late. When she checked her voice mail a few minutes later there was a message from Scott.
    “Hey Maggie, I know we aren’t on the best of terms right now, but if you need anything, I hope you know you can call. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I just want to help if I can. Bye.”
    Maggie rested her forehead against the kitchen wall for a moment, wishing she could crawl through the telephone toward his warm, familiar voice. A pre-recorded voice asked her if she wanted to delete the message. She saved it.
     
     
    The bar wasn’t busy, and only the local stalwarts were left come closing time. Mandy locked the front door after the last one tottered out, and Patrick began to put the chairs up on the tables so she could mop.
    “You gonna tell me what’s going on?” Patrick asked her.
    “Nope,” she said.
    She went in the restroom to fill the mop bucket and Patrick followed her.
    “Ed being mean to you?” he asked. “I’ll kick his ass from here ‘til Sunday.”
    “No,” Mandy said with a sigh. “Ed’s not bein’ mean to me.”
    “It ain’t that time of the month, is it?” Patrick asked. “I got the calendar marked wrong if it is.”
    “No!” Mandy said, and flicked water at him from the faucet in the utility sink.
    “C’mon, Mandy,” Patrick said. “You were pretty upset earlier. You knocked up or something?”
    “No,” Mandy said as she dunked the mop in the rolling bucket and pushed it past Patrick out into the bar. “I’ll figure it out myself. Don’t you worry ‘bout it.”
    Patrick performed all the tasks of closing up the bar: counting the money in the till, locking the deposit and the base funds in the safe, and then gathering the trash to take to the dumpster. Mandy put on her coat and they left by the side