Daisy, Plucked

Chapter 1

Daisy — June 2019

If Daisy never got out of bed, this day couldn’t happen.

If she stayed curled up under her raggedy pink and white comforter, maybe the past two weeks would turn out to be an anxiety fueled nightmare. She could wake up again, actually wake up, and Hana would be waiting in her living room with flowers or a poem or some other small gift she would use to win Daisy back. She would still have the last week of classes to face, and she would still be planning her graduation party and getting excited for freshman orientation.

But unless a miracle turned the past two weeks into a fiction, when she got up she would see her high school diploma dumped under her brother’s hand-me-down graduation gown and she would have to put on the black dress she had picked out for Hana’s funeral.

And, realistically, the funeral of Daisy’s best friend and recent ex-girlfriend would happen whether she showed up or not, so she needed to get out of bed. If she didn’t force herself to start the day, her dad would come in to get her up soon, and she hadn’t properly hidden the love letters from Hana that she had looked at the night before while she was falling asleep. Hana and Daisy managed to hide their relationship for three and a half years, and she wasn’t going to break that streak now.

Then again, her dad was so unobservant that he hadn’t noticed Daisy and Hana dating the past four years. He thought they were just fighting as friends when they broke up, and he got into the habit of daily lectures about getting over their differences and making up like friends were supposed to. Those stopped once it was too late to take his advice — there was no making up and getting back together anymore. It was hard to get back together with a dead girl.

Hana killed herself on a Tuesday afternoon. Her mom found her after she came home from work.

Daisy’s alarm chimed again, and if she lay in bed for much longer she wouldn’t have time to get ready for the funeral. She forced herself to get out of bed and hated that she needed to lean against the wall for support. If something as easy as getting out of bed exhausted her, getting through this day would be a herculean task.

Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up to find another condolence text she wouldn't respond to. She shut down her phone and threw it on her bed to deal with later.

She dragged herself down the hall into the shower. After her graduation ceremony the day before, half of her class met up at Gina Yell’s oversized house in the suburbs and drank too much. Daisy had only stayed long enough to polish off an entire bottle of wine before she got one of the DDs to drive her home, but she still somehow smelled like a brewery. Luckily, she didn’t run into her dad in the hall — she didn’t have the energy today to deal with him finding out she’d been underage drinking.

By the time she started her haircare routine for her long, curly, red hair, she could hear her brother shuffling in the hall. She didn’t skip any steps, even though he would be inconvenienced by her taking her time. The ritual comforted her, and she needed comfort today. Once she was done, she started loudly collecting her things, and his steps disappeared back into his room. He always gave her space when she needed it.

Bathroom is all yours, Will, she called. He walked out of his room and gave her a small sleepy smile on his way past her.

Back in her room, she blow-dried her hair with the overpriced hair dryer Hana got her for Christmas a few years earlier and let the white noise lull her. She put on the dress she bought for Hana’s father’s funeral and hated how it fit her. She hadn’t thought to try it on before today, and now she was forced into the too-tight, itching A-line that constricted her chest.

Hana had worn pants to her father’s funeral three years before. Her mother, Noriko, threw a fit over it, saying that she was taking the being a lesbian thing too far. Hana snapped back that it was ridiculous for her mother to worry about what she looked like when her father had been shot dead by a psychopath, and that shut Noriko up for a little while. Daisy hated witnessing those little squabbles, but now she missed them. Every moment with Hana felt more precious now that there would be no more.

She considered not wearing makeup since she would probably cry it off, but she didn’t want to worry anyone with the bags under her eyes. She swiped on mascara and concealer and a hefty dose of setting spray and hoped for the best.

She stared at herself in the mirror on the back of her door and wished she could go back to bed. The dress didn’t fit right, her curls were frizzy despite the care she took, and the concealer wasn’t doing enough to hide the bags under her eyes. She turned away and resolved to avoid mirrors for the rest of the day.

Her dad already had a cup of coffee ready for her when she got downstairs, and she gave him a small smile of thanks before taking a sip.

Good morning, Daisy. I made it just the way you like — lots of hazelnut creamer, Henry said proudly.

Daisy actually liked her coffee with just a small splash of milk, but Henry still only knew the overly sweet way she enjoyed it when she first started drinking it in tenth grade. She never had the heart to tell him her tastes changed, and today wasn’t the day to burst his bubble, so she just nodded and choked it down.

Thanks, Dad, she said warmly. It wasn’t his fault she had changed faster than he could keep up with, so she tried her hardest not to resent him for it. She sometimes wondered if he could only love the past version of her or if he would love her now if he really knew her, but she didn’t have the emotional capacity to think about that right now.

She was an hour into her day and hadn’t cried yet, but her dad gave her a pitying look that tried her resolve.

No one would be upset if you didn’t go today, Henry started.

"I would be upset if I didn’t go," Daisy retorted.

Hana may have broken her heart, but she had also been Daisy’s best friend for almost thirteen years and her girlfriend for three and a half, and there was no way she would miss her funeral.

Alright, sweetheart. Just let me know if you need to leave early, or if you don’t want to go to the graveyard or—

I will, dad. Just ... I’m going to go. We’ll see ... Well, we’ll just see.

He nodded, still somber. Daisy remembered he also lost Hana, just like he also lost Hana’s father, Mark, and she felt bad for cutting him off. Was he thinking of her mother’s funeral today too? Or was it only Daisy who used it as a mental benchmark whenever there was a death in her life? Daisy wanted to be mad that he thought she was too weak to handle it, but she couldn’t muster the anger. Her grief shouldn’t be his burden as much as he tried to take it on

They drank their coffee in silence, both reading completely unrelated things. Her dad scrolled through the local newspaper on his tablet while Daisy thumbed through a dogeared copy of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock short stories, skimming her favorites without actually settling on one story.

Hana never liked Doyle’s words, but it wasn’t until she went away to college and took a women’s literature course that she started loudly voicing her dislike of the stories. She would send Daisy PDFs of the stories she thought Daisy should read instead of the misogynistic crap Daisy loved, and at the end of the semester Hana gave her all the books she’d read. Daisy skimmed a few pages of each, then looked them up on SparkNotes and lied to Hana that she read and liked them. After Hana died, she tore through them feverishly. She read them as if the words were a message, something that would somehow bring Hana back if she could just decode them, just read them correctly. But Hana stayed dead, and Daisy still hated The Bell Jar.

When her brother came downstairs, Daisy looked up from her book to see if he was doing any better than her, but he wasn’t. She’d never seen him as miserable as he was the past week, but she didn’t know how to acknowledge his grief without being swallowed by her own. He smiled weakly at Daisy on his way to get coffee.

You should use a travel mug. We have to leave in a few, Henry said.

Oh, yeah. You’re right. I guess we are going all the way to the other side of town, right? Will said. He pulled out an old travel mug and filled it to the brim.

Yeah, it’s in the same place as Mark’s funeral. God, Nori must be ... You guys make sure you talk to her today, alright? It’ll mean a lot to her, I’m sure.

Of course, dad, Daisy said. Will nodded but didn’t say anything. Daisy watched his Adam’s apple move up and down his throat with the effort not to cry. She blinked away a few tears of her own and tried to focus on the familiar story she was reading.

A few minutes later, Henry got up and put his mug in the sink, and Daisy followed suit. The three moved in a silent dance, one where they knew the others’ steps and where they were meant to be without saying anything. It turned out funeral number three was the one where they finally figured out the right steps to dance around each others’ grief. They no longer went through the routine of asking each other how they were feeling — they all knew the answer wouldn’t be honest.

The car ride was silent. Daisy tried to read, but she couldn’t focus for more than a few seconds before she was distracted by the world outside of her window. She had gone to that restaurant with Hana for their one-year anniversary. She stole a kiss with Hana under that streetlight when they were riding their bikes to the park. That was their favorite bookstore when they were kids.

Hana’s funeral was in the same catholic church as her father’s, which was the same one she grew up going to every week. Hana’s dad was as catholic as they came, but he never hated his daughter for being a lesbian. Even though the rest of the congregation wasn’t as kind, she was still confirmed and raised in the religion because she believed in it. Hana pretended to be too cool for organized religion, but Daisy saw her rosary carefully wrapped in a bandana in a desk drawer when she visited Hana at college for Valentine’s Day a few months earlier.

Walking into the church was surreal. Hana’s body wasn’t there yet, so people milled in the aisles and spoke in hushed tones. Daisy always felt out of place in churches since she wasn’t raised attending one, and it was unimaginable to her that this imposing structure of wood and glass and prayer was a place of comfort to some people.

The tall ceilings seemed to sweep up the voices, mixing them all together in a cacophony of whispers and murmurs that Daisy couldn’t understand. She tried to pick up a line out of anyone’s conversation, but they all were distorted aside from a word here and there. The stained-glass windows showed the Madonna and the crucifixion and other stories that Daisy wouldn’t know if Hana hadn’t pointed them out during her father’s funeral.

The Polo family made their way toward the front of the church where Hana’s mother and Uncle Dennis were, but before they got there everyone began taking their seats. They ended up tucking themselves into a mostly empty pew about two-thirds of the way down the center aisle and waited in the new silence for the funeral service to start.

Hana’s casket was carried in by a handful of distant cousins, ones that lived out of town who she wasn’t close to, and Daisy felt a prick of annoyance that they were the ones chosen to carry Hana. They barely talked to her, barely knew her, and Daisy knew that Hana would rather Will carried her alone on his back than any of these half-strangers. The only thing she had in common with these boys was their blood, and Hana was a strong believer in found family. If she found this family, she would’ve returned them to wherever they came from and kept looking for another.

By the time Daisy was done being annoyed at Hana’s cousins, the casket was resting next to the altar and the priest stood to speak, cutting off the organ music Daisy hadn’t noticed was playing.

Hello, loved ones. Today we are here to celebrate the life of Hana Holm, a daughter of God that has gone back to Him too soon.

Daisy hated that she was crying already and tried to blink away the tears before they could fall. Will tapped her hand and offered her a tissue, and she took it without looking at him.

All week she kept remembering and realizing that Hana was gone, their love story was finished, their friendship was over. But each time the thought hit her it still knocked her out.

She barely took in the service. All she was focused on was the way that the sunlight bounced off the copper organ pipes behind the altar and onto the shiny, highly polished wooden coffin that held Hana’s body. It looked expensive but not as flashy as the one Mark Holm had been buried in.

When she was younger, Hana dared Daisy to jump into the town pool without her life jacket on. She would’ve figured out how to climb into the sky and steal the sun if Hana asked her to, so of course she did it. She couldn’t really swim, and there was a moment after her head went underwater when she opened her eyes and saw the rest of the swimmers in the public pool going on with their days and paying her no mind. This was what this week felt like — the moment before the panic set in, before Will pointed her out to the lifeguard that jumped in to save her. She was just floating and watching the world turn, knowing that as soon as she tried to breathe, she would be drowning.

When the funeral ended, they made their way to the church’s foyer, following Hana’s coffin with the rest of the mourners. Even though the burial was usually just for family, Noriko had called them the day before and insisted they come as well.

It was a beautiful day, and it felt wrong. The lawn’s grass seemed too green, the flowers were blooming too loudly, the sun was shining too brightly, all of it screaming that this day wasn’t meant for this.

In another life, this was the day Hana would reach out to beg for Daisy back like she had the other times they would fight. That day outside of George’s diner shouldn’t have been the last time that Daisy and Hana saw each other. It wasn’t supposed to be the end, just an end.

Will flipped on the radio as soon as they got in the car, and Daisy was glad there wouldn’t be silence. The chorus of one of Hana’s favorite songs, Heaven is a Place on Earth by Belinda Carlisle, blasted out of the speaker, and Daisy couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

The world really has some sense of humor, doesn’t it? Daisy said, curling into herself as she laughed. Will joined in, and their hysterical laughter chorused together.

This is definitely something Hana would put on after her funeral, Will said, tears in his eyes.

Henry looked at his children like they were insane but didn’t comment. He was probably worried about what it looked like to have his children laughing in the parking lot of their best friend’s funeral, but he wasn’t going to point that out. Maybe it went against the advice of the grieving children books he read in secret after their mom died when Daisy was four.

The funeral procession started, and they stopped laughing. Will turned down the radio until the car was close to silent. When they arrived at the cemetery, Henry turned the car off and the quiet wove between them, growing and stretching until it was deafening. It was difficult to get out of the car, but Daisy managed. One of her heels sank into the grass on her first step off the road, but she trudged forward and kept her weight on her toes.

The casket was on the lift that would lower it into the grave, and Noriko stood next to it, her short frame dwarfed by the hydraulics holding her daughter. The Polos walked over, and Henry placed his hand on Noriko’s shoulder. The woman turned and smiled at them before pulling Henry into a hug.

Thank you all so much for coming. Hana would have— Noriko cut herself off with a shake of her head.

Of course, Nori. We wouldn’t miss this. You know that you and Hana and Mark are our family. If there’s anything that you need at all, you can always ask, Henry said before hugging Noriko again. Daisy saw Hana’s uncle talking to the priest, and his eyes flicked to the spot where Noriko and Henry touched.

Thank you, really ... Noriko looked lost in thought for a moment before adding, Daisy, if there’s anything of Hana’s you want, you can come by the house any time. Maybe some stuff for college.

That — thank you, Daisy paused, not knowing what to say. I can stop by sometime soon. Her voice felt small, like a frightened animal skittering out of her mouth.

Great, Noriko said softly. She seemed to realize it wasn’t just Daisy and Henry standing there, and her eyes widened just enough that only Daisy would pick up on it. Hana had her mother’s eyes, and Daisy knew all too well how to read them. And Will, she didn’t ... well ... but if you want to come over and get anything to ... to remember her ... you guys can come over. Maybe I can make dinner. You know Hana loves, or loved, I— Noriko looked pained as she cut herself off. Daisy glanced at Will out of the corner of her eye, and she almost missed the flash of pain across his face, the way he curled his hands into fists like they did when he was trying not to cry. He didn’t notice her looking, and she was glad.

Why don’t we come over with pizza soon? Pick a day, Henry said, trying to steer Noriko back. The lost-looking woman gave a nod and glanced past the family where Hana’s uncle was walking up. He took Nori’s hand and gave it a squeeze before turning to the Polos and hugging each of them in turn. Daisy didn’t want to hug him, but she reminded herself that her grief didn’t give her an excuse to be rude, especially to other people who loved Hana.

Thanks for coming you guys. It means a lot. I think they’re going to say the prayers now, Nori. Would you like to sit? Dennis asked.

Yes, that sounds good. And the flowers have — oh yes, there they are. Great. They brought them from the church. Noriko reached out to Hana’s casket to touch the bouquets that were at the front of the church with ribbons that said daughter and friend on a few of them. Daisy vaguely remembered her dad telling her he was ordering one on her and Will’s behalf, but there were so many she didn’t know which was from them.

Dennis steered Noriko to the front row of chairs and the two of them sat down next to the other members of Hana’s family. Will wrapped an arm around Daisy’s shoulders, and they walked together to stand behind the family’s chairs. She felt like a widow, but Will was the only one here that knew Daisy and Hana were together. Daisy wasn’t ready to come out before, and she stood by that, but at Hana’s grave, her old problems felt insignificant. She didn’t know if any of her fears ever really mattered or if she just convinced herself they did.

The same priest from the church said a few words, but Daisy was too focused on what would happen after he finished speaking to really listen.

How could she say her final goodbyes to Hana’s body — the body that held Daisy and loved her and was there for her for thirteen years? She wished this was really the end, that it brought her some sort of closure, but she knew it wouldn’t. Just because Hana would be at rest didn’t mean that Daisy would be able to sleep at night.

The priest finished and soon Daisy’s family was walking forward, though they were relegated to the back of the line of mourners. She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t stop it from happening. Will handed her another tissue, and she held it under her nose with one hand but made no attempt to stop her tears.

When it was her turn, she placed her hand on the casket, and it was sun warm and glossy under her fingertips. She took a deep breath and tried to imagine she was holding Hana’s hand one last time.

She wanted to throw herself into the grave, to go with Hana, to never leave her side, but she couldn’t do that, especially here where no one knew what Hana meant to her. Besides, Hana had broken up with her before she died. If Hana chose this, chose to die, chose to leave Daisy not just once but twice, maybe Daisy was a fool for wanting to go with her.

She rested her forehead on the back of her hand, saying a silent goodbye to her first love, and stood for a long moment. Will put his hand on her shoulder, and she pulled away, leaning into his side while they walked to the car.

Dad, can we go home? Will asked. Relief crashed over Daisy.

If she went to the funeral luncheon, she might start demanding that others qualify their grief. She wanted to ask how they were so hurt when Hana never liked them that much, when they never loved Hana like Daisy did. Some of the people she saw in the church were outright homophobic to her, some of them barely talked to her, and some of them were just there for the spectacle. To them, the funeral of a rich, pretty, gay girl who killed herself was nothing more than the event of the summer season.

I’ll drop you two off at home, Henry said. I still want to go to the luncheon. You all saw ... Well, Nori needs friends right now. I mean, God, first Mark and now ... Thank god for Dennis. Daisy held in a scowl at the name of Hana’s paternal uncle.

Daisy wasn’t a fan of Dennis, but she wasn’t going to tell her dad that Hana and Dennis never got along. If Hana could see the way that Dennis was acting, maybe she would think he really cared about her. Then again, if Hana saw the way he was holding Noriko, she probably would’ve lost her mind.

When Henry dropped them off, Will immediately went for the keys to the car he’d gotten as a gift for his seventeenth birthday. It was used and almost as old as Daisy, but she still envied his ability to go wherever he wanted anytime. She’d failed her driving test two times because she couldn’t parallel park, and her dad used it as an excuse to not get her a car. Will caught her jealous stare and gave her a weak smile.

Come on, let’s go get frozen custard, he said. Daisy smiled at him, her first genuine smile in days.

I’m sorry no one knew, Will said once they were in the car. Of course he knew that part of the reason she was upset was because no one knew why she was so upset. Daisy swallowed back her tears before responding.

She said that she understood me never coming out after that big fight we got in a few years ago, but I’m not sure ... I mean, maybe the secret wasn’t worth it. Daisy tried to figure out how to word her thoughts. Her mind felt like the tin of loose embroidery floss she had used to make friendship bracelets with Hana when they were younger. She couldn’t follow one thread long enough to finish untangling it before she started following another, and the mess never got smaller. It just changed shape.

She knew, you know. Will glanced at her. She knew how much you loved her. And, I mean, you have to know that she loved you, too. There was something in the way that Will spoke that put Daisy on edge.

She literally broke up with me a week before she died because she cheated on me. We — it was over. For good that time, and now I feel like ... Maybe if I’d reached out, maybe if I hadn’t just gone radio silent, maybe she wouldn’t have—

Hey, you can’t blame yourself. Whatever Hana’s reasons were ... she made her choices, he said, his voice thick like he was trying not to cry.

I wish she’d left a note. I wish I, well, we, knew ... I mean, I didn’t think she was struggling so much.

"Honestly, breaking up with you, burning that