...his exhausted heart or his overworked liver that had killed him. Working at the nuclear power plant for decades without a single promotion had left them with no savings, and working for Burns had left them with the state-required minimum health and life insurance. If Ned Flanders hadn’t been kind enough to rally the church members for contributions, Marge would have had to go into debt just to pay for Homer’s funeral.
Marge had spent the funeral and wake cuddling toddler Maggie, and accepting condolences with as much dignity as she could muster while crying almost non-stop. Bart and Lisa had spent the funeral and wake planning how they were going to keep from losing the house.
Bart had dropped out of high school, and gotten a job working construction; hard, heavy labor that paid enough to keep them all fed and clothed. On the bright side, his days as the terror of Springfield Elementary and Middle School had given him some useful skills in demolition – his boss had just offered to put him through specialist training. It had also given him some impressive muscles; he could have almost any girl in town these days, if he had the time or energy.
Lisa had tutored him through getting his GED (she’d insisted), then taken a heavier courseload...