Margot stared at the offer. Tootie had thought of everything: financial compensation, meals covered, a clothing allowance, and health insurance. She'd even attached a picture of a small cabin on the edge of a lake, labeled housing. And another photo of a huge family posed in front of a lakeside dock. Tootie stood with an older man, holding his hand. Two couples in their fifties stood behind them next to a man with deep frown furrows barely touched by his lopsided smirk. His arm was thrown around a twenty-ish girl with purple-streaked hair in pigtails wearing a black T-shirt with a pink radiation symbol on it. Another couple stood on the far left, a man in his thirties with curly reddish-blond hair hugging a laughing blonde. The sun was setting behind the family and they looked so happy together, so at ease with one another. And it felt like a punch to the chest. These people didn't miss her at all. They didn't feel a Margot-shaped hole in their family, they'd just moved on without her. It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. She'd spent a lot of time on visualization exercises so it wouldn't hurt. And yet . . .
She cleared her throat. "The whole family put this together? Even my . . . even Stan?"
"Everybody," Tootie said emphatically.
Margot skimmed the top of the document and caught sight of the letterhead, which read McCready Family Funeral Home and Bait Shop.
"Funeral home? Wait, you run a funeral home? And a bait shop?"
"Well, it's more of a full-service marina, but yes! For four generations now! You're part of a Lake Sackett institution, hon."
"Why would a funeral home–slash–bait shop need an event planner?"
"Well, the baby boomer generation is dropping like flies around here, so we've got more business than we can handle. We've needed to add another planning consultant for a while now, and when I saw your video and looked up your background, I knew you'd be perfect."
"I'm an event planner. For major society parties, galas, charity balls, that sort of thing."
"Well, a funeral is a kind of event. And some of the considerations are the same-timing, speeches, music, food, and such."
"Oh, I just don't think I could-"
Suddenly, the lights flickered out and her refrigerator died with a whine. Because she'd shut off utilities in preparation for the move to the condo that was supposed to have taken place the week before. But she had nowhere to go. And no health insurance.