As the somber evening droned on, people came and went, and everyone still managed to tell me a new story about how great of a person Lydia was. The news of a prominent death never stayed a secret for very long in a town like ours, and people tried the best they could to help out in a situation like this. Unfortunately, their help was beginning to get annoying.

Ashley muttered a few more profanities into my ear as she walked past on her way between tables, and although I couldn't tell specifically what she was upset about, it didn't matter. Everything was too much at this point, and if I didn't get away from the people, I was going to end up snapping like Ashley.

"Oh, Ashley, listen to my husband's—oh, I'm sorry. You're not Ashley," someone said as they tried to stop me for a story.

I fake smiled. "We get that all the time. It's totally fine."

"Well, I guess he can just tell you," she glanced down at my nametag, "Marigold."

Her husband launched into a story about how Lydia helped him in some way, and as he wrapped up the riveting anecdote, I smiled and thanked him for sharing his memory.

It was probably a good thing I listened to it rather than Ashley. I couldn't imagine she was doing well in the tipping department tonight unless everyone was just feeling generous.

I headed back to the kitchen to pick up another order to serve, and a familiar face had snuck into the building undetected by the public.

Lydia's husband. George.

That was why Ashley was pissed off.

I looked at his face as he talked to one of the other girls, and all I could see in his eyes was a tired emptiness, but he still put on a small smile. I couldn't imagine that he was ready to deal with the crowd outside the kitchen yet, so Ashley didn't have anything to worry about, but it was still surprising to see him at all at work.

His eyes met mine, and before I could even begin to tell him that I was so sorry for his loss, he spoke first.

"You have a small online business, don't you, Marigold?" George asked.

"I—" I paused. He probably didn't want to talk about his nightmare of a day anymore, so I nodded. "It's just a silly little crafty thing, but it's important to me."

"How long have you been running it? You do it all yourself?" he continued.

"Uh, it's been a few years, and I manage everything with it. Finances, products—"

George didn't even let me finish my sentence. "You've got to help me. I'm in so over my head right now, I don't even know where to start picking up the pieces."

I hesitated before coming up with the best response I could. "What?"

The man had just lost his wife, the genius behind their livelihood, and the only reply I could concoct was what?

But how could anyone blame me? I didn't know anything about running a serious business. I didn't go to school for any of that. All I knew was how to crochet things people thought were cute and sell them.

"It's a craft business, you say?" George asked.

I forced myself to nod. "It sure is. It's really not much, but—"

"So you're artsy, too, then. You can help with decor throughout the seasons," George continued.

Throughout the seasons? How long did he think I wanted to stay at a stupid waitressing job?

"Can you give me a little bit of—" I was interrupted by my own thought. This poor man didn't have a little bit of time to figure something out. Life moved on fast, and she didn't care who she hurt along the way. "I can try my best in the meantime, but I don't have a degree in any of this stuff. I just want you to know that."

George shook his head. "It doesn't matter. It's just a piece of paper."

It was just a piece of paper that said that I had learned a thing or two on the subject of business, but that didn't really matter now, did it? As far as I knew, none of us had a degree of any kind, and I was the only one who had the tiniest bit of experience in business.

The only problem was that my experience was limited to shipping items in cute packaging and selling my soul for five star reviews.

But George needed help, and all I could do was the best I could do.

And to think that I was just super bored with where my life was going. Wasn't it funny how life hits you all at once?

***

I had never really spent much time in Lydia's old office. It was just a small room where she mostly conducted interviews, but other than that, she never used it all that much. She preferred to be with the people, and I assumed that was why everyone around town was going to miss her.

I took a seat in her old office chair, but before I could ask myself about what would happen around town if I suddenly passed away, a voice interrupted my thoughts.

"So George just gave you this job?" Ashley asked from the doorway.

I shook my head. "Oh, no. I don't have a new job. I'm just trying to help him out as best as I can. I can't even imagine losing the love of my life so suddenly."

Of course, that would require finding the love of my life, but that was a problem for future Marigold.

"You don't know a thing about any of this stuff, do you?" she continued.

"Well, no. Not really," I said. What was the point of lying about it? "But I'm gonna try to help him out. We can probably figure it out together. I mean, he's been in this business for years, and I run my own tiny business, so we should be able to manage for a little while at least."

Ashley tightened her grip on the door frame. "Not to be rude, but I wouldn't waste any more time in this office acting like a girlboss. We're still getting killed out there."

She was probably right, but that probably wasn't the best choice of words on her part. I pretended I didn't notice it, though.

"I'll be out in a second. I just need to find something for George," I said.

Ashley nodded, then went back to work. This time, there was a point in lying, for a moment of peace to myself.

Blake and Alex were never going to believe the day I was having, and I was sure they'd tell me that there was no way George and I would be able to make things work until he could hire someone to figure it all out for us.

No, Marigold, they hadn't said anything yet. Those are your thoughts.

I glanced around Lydia's old office. Unlike the public spaces, it wasn't decorated up to her standards. No family photos, no plants, blank walls, just business. And that was probably the best way for most people to focus on finances and other boring stuff like that, but it just wouldn't work for me.

I dug through my purse, and I finally found a pink glitter gel pen. I put it in the pen cup (from Office Max—not even a souvenir from some vacation gift shop) with all the serious black and blue ink, and I smiled to myself. That made it a little more Marigold, even if the office was just a temporary responsibility thrown at me.

Girlboss Marigold Reynolds. I liked the sound of that, and maybe one day I would have that title for real.

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Hello, and thank you so much for reading!

So for this week's question, what is a skill you think everyone should have?

I think everyone needs to know how to navigate a conversation in customer service settings (both the worker and the customer). Being rude is not helpful to anyone. In fact, it is just going to make everyone's day worse. And for some reason, we still have Karens all over the place. Being polite is a skill everyone needs.