Page 98 of Then Came You

Too grief-stricken to notice, Row doesn’t even move as they approach, but unbeknownst to my conscious state, I’ve been holding in a huge lungful of air and feel lightheaded as if I’m about to pass out.

Lifting my eyes, I puff out a huge breath when I see it’s Zee and Haven, hand in hand.

Zee is in a similar suit to mine, although his pants are two sizes too small for him, while Haven is in a pretty pink roses dress.

He must register the shock on my face because he addresses the herd of elephants in the room.

“I wouldn’t miss being here for the world.” It’s only then that Row snaps her head up, her wet red-rimmed eyes spilling over as she spots her best friend. As much as I miss her touch, I’m more moved when she springs up and wraps her arms around Zee, who thankfully reciprocates.

Not liking that she has been ignored, Haven tugs on the leather skirt Row is wearing until she’s not only heard but seen. Whipping around, Row’s face splits into a grateful grin as she hauls Haven up.

I’ve never been prouder of my three greatest loves.

When the impromptu welcomes are done, I scoot down, making way for Zee to sit, then Row, who has Haven on her lap, and then me.

Whether Zee likes it or not, or Row accepts it or not, this is our family now. And I’d die for all three of them and their health and happiness.

Chapter 40

Row

RIP Daisy May - 11 October 1991 - 25 June 2021 - Until we meet again.

She was 29. The girl who is eternally resting by my sister was 29 when she died. A whole 10 years older than Tori. Her tombstone is granite grey and looks unweathered. There are new pink roses placed on her grave, which is a positive sign that at least Tori and she share something in common.

As I watch them lower Tori into the ground, I can’t help but wonder who will be keeping her company in the dark of the night. It's Daisy. But now I’m left wondering who Daisy is.

Did she have a shitty upbringing with an uncaring, abusive mother? Was she neglected? Did she die from cancer like Tori did?

We’ll never know.

I have a hundred more questions, though, that I want to know about her. What did she study or where did she work? Did she ever get the chance to experience love? Was she married? Did she travel? Was her bedroom purple or pink? Because Tori never had the chance to experience any of it. And she never would.

I’m irrationally and selfishly mad at Daisy May, who might have lived a better life than Tori did, and I suddenly wish I could have picked who would be her afterlife friend. I got her as close to Dad as I could, but the plot near him had already been filled, so I got the new lawn over.

It’s nice. There’s a hill with landscaped flowers, and there’s a large angel in the middle. Nearby I can hear trickling water, and I can’t hear any cars from the nearby highway, so at least it’s picturesque and peaceful. I’m sure peace comes with an eye-watering price, which I’ll no doubt have to cough up at some point.

I sigh impatiently, waiting for everyone to throw flowers or dirt onto Tori’s coffin. I feel the warmth of Blade leaving me, and I know he has gone to do this weird ritual himself. I glance to see whether he’s chosen to dirty his usually pristine hands or opted for an Eden Rose. He’s chosen neither. Instead, he reaches into his suave suit jacket that is lined with a pattern of blue ribbons for leukaemia and pulls out a small paper envelope. Without thinking, he tosses it into the rectangular grave. I want to ask him about it now, but I’ll ask him about it later when all the pomp and circus has died down.

Unlike the others before him who have returned to their places, Blade waits for me. Walking over, I pick up the carefully selected bouquet Sydney had made for me, which is filled with pink carnations that represent the sisterly sibling bond. I toss the bouquet in with unsteady hands and am ridden with heaviness that Tori won’t be at my future wedding to catch my bouquet.

I die all over again for what I’ve lost.

I feel as if the atmospheric pressure is crushing my chest, compressing my ribcage, and squeezing the life out of my lungs and heart.

“Tink, what’s wrong?” Blade rescues me just in time before I fall face-first into the grave.

“She’ll never be at my wedding. No one will. I have no one left in my family.” It’s stupid to think about, but that’s the thing about grief - you never know when it will hit you and slam your body into the ground.

His solid body crashes into mine, pulling me tightly. I know he’s doing it out of love, but it’s also cathartic to know he’s trying to induce oxytocin to lower my rapid heart rate and stress I’m feeling from this overwhelming nightmare.

I don’t remember much else from burying Tori, apart from the sympathetic stares and hugs I’m given by our extended friends. It was nice. As nice as a funeral for burying your dead sister can be.

As per my wish, there was no formal wake, just an announcement that we were heading to the nearest pub, which happened to be the Royal Oak Hotel.

I was being steered away from the cemetery by Blade, but not before he had to pry me away from the patch of dirt that covered Tori’s grave. There may have been some hysterics, but luckily mine was rivalled by sweet Haven who didn’t want to go home.

A pub was no place for a kid. I, out of everyone, was the poster child for that fact.

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