Page 5 of Pushing Daisy
“Daisy, this entire town cares about you.”
Daisy scoffs. “Hardly.”
“Nope. You need to open your eyes to be able to see it.”
My eyes are perfectly open, thank you. Stella moved to Leeside in her early twenties and has lived in a different Leeside from Daisy. Stella isn’t the most popular witch, but she’s up there. She’s well-loved and has so many friends. Daisy, however, has always been the outcast. The not-even-a-second-or-third thought. That Stella could think the town cares about Daisy is so laughable that Daisy fights the bewildered giggle that wants to erupt from her chest.
“I’m serious. I see the way the people flock to you for help and advice. Every night at the Acorn someone is hanging on your every word. People smile when they see you. You light up a room, Daze.”
Daisy scoffs. “You are clearly mistaken. What you see as people seeking advice are drunk patrons begging not to be cut off. People laugh when I enter the room.” The whispers that follow her as she moves about the town are sometimes almost unbearable. Her family left a legacy for her, which she does not enjoy. She stuffs the thought of her parents down and locks it away in the chest with the rest of her feelings. “Anyway, I need to head out in a bit. Thanks again for stopping by,” Daisy says.
She waits for Stella to push back, to demand that she stay. But she doesn’t. Instead, Stella nods again, accepting the not-so-hidden request for her departure. She stands, brushing her hands on her thighs as she shifts on her feet. “You know how to reach me if you need someone to talk to.”
“I do. Thanks.”
Stella smiles weakly at Daisy before turning, picking up her coat, and leaving. Daisy sighs, relieved. She doesn’t have anywhere to go. She never has anywhere to go but work, especially now that Petra is tied up with her job at the childcare, the council, and Lachlan.
She stands from the table, gathers some cheese and crackers, and curls up on the couch again. She finds her favorite show, Slayer Bites, a cheesy teen vampire hunter show, and starts watching it again from the beginning.
Dressed in dark jeans, an oversized white sweater, and black ankle boots, Daisy picks up her keys and wallet, and as she reaches to open the door, she feels the pull in her core as the world fades away. When her eyes open, she is standing in the center of the supernatural council chambers. It will forever baffle her brain how they manage to port people and why they do it without warning. Why don’t they let people travel to the council office normally? Like, what’s wrong with just driving to the chambers?
Once her eyes refocus and adjust to the change to shitty fluorescent lighting, she spots Petra and Lachlan along the bench with the other council members.
“Welcome, Miss Hale,” Councilperson Clellugs, the goblin representative, says. “Please have a seat.” They gesture to the chairs off to the side.
Daisy nods, shuffling over to a chair and sitting. Why does she feel like she’s being sent to the principal’s office after speaking out in class? Probably because the council is the supernatural governing body for Leeside and surrounding communities, and they control any consequences supernatural beings under their jurisdiction face. The council is made up of representatives from the nine most prominent supernatural factions within their community: witches, demons, goblins, vampires, trolls, faeries, gnomes, werewolves, and shifters. She looks up at Petra, trying to gauge if she should be worried about tonight, but her friend’s face doesn’t give anything away.
“Thank you for joining us. We have a few things we want to address tonight,” Councilperson Clellugs begins.
“Okay.”
“The first is that we are aware that Petra has talked to you previously about a consultation role. As a council, we feel that your unique experiences, from your family upbringing and community recognition through your work at the Bittersweet Acorn, where we hear you are well-liked, would allow you to be a wonderful addition in this role,” Councilperson Clellugs tells her. “We recognize and apologize for the fact that you have faced challenges while growing up in Leeside. However, we feel that the unfortunate general sense of disconnect that you have felt within our community provides a much-needed perspective that we as a council need. You understand the importance of connection, community, and relationships more than most. We hope that your unique point of view will help in devising an event for the community that fosters a renewed sense of community for those who have been unwillingly cast aside much like you have.
“With that, the council would like to officially offer you a position as an event coordinator,” Councilperson Clellugs concludes.
Daisy’s head spins. This is all so much to take in. Recognition of her pain and history, a chance of a lifetime, an opportunity to use her experience to help benefit others, her current disaster of a life—she’s speechless.
This should be an exciting opportunity. It should be taken as a chance to show the town of Leeside that she is a valuable addition and that she can help others like her. Instead, it fills her with dread. Hell, she can’t even help herself. How is she supposed to help others when she can barely call herself a witch at the moment? She keeps telling herself that Petra wouldn’t suggest her if she didn’t think Daisy could do the job.
The council stares at her, waiting for a response. Oh shit. She’s been sitting here silently for too long and hasn’t responded. Did they say anything else after that little introduction?
Respond, you tool.
“Umm, yes…” Daisy stammers. “Thank you. For the opportunity, that is.” She catches Lachlan failing to hide his snort at her response, and when she looks up at him, he’s smirking like the shithead demon he is.
“We are happy to have you on board,” Councilwoman Amare, the vampire representative, responds. “As for the other matter…” she says, looking down the table. “As you know, we agreed to the visitation with your parents last week. Unfortunately, that visit did not go as planned, and they have not been reformed. As a council, we have decided they are no longer safe in our community or any other. As such, an order has been passed to wipe their memories.”
The air rushes from her lungs. The room closes in, and a buzzing noise fills her ears as she fully processes what they said. Not only are her parents trash beings who wanted to see her again just so they could use her, but now they are such a threat to the larger world that the council deems them unfit to know about their past abilities, transgressions, and…her. That final realization hits her hard. Her parents will no longer know who she is, or that she even existed. They’ve effectively made her an orphan with that single decision.
Her hand finds her chest, gripping her shirt tightly, as an unbearable ache builds where her heart should be. Sucking in a breath, she tries to calm herself and ease the pain enough so she can get through the rest of this meeting. She looks to Petra, who, while trying to keep her expression neutral, is clearly fighting back regret and sadness. This couldn’t have been an easy decision, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“We are truly sorry to have to share this news this evening. Your parents’ situation aside, we, as a council, want to be clear that we recognize the harm you have experienced during your life because of misguided community reactions. We also apologize for the harm that the council had a role in, and we want to be clear in the sentiment that you, Miss Hale, are not your parents. You are not their story,” Councilperson Clellugs says, surprisingly gently. “As such, with this offer of the coordinator position, we are looking for an organized event for other ostracized members of the community to meet, mingle, and build connections with each other and the larger community. We are considering hosting it six weeks from now, so you have a short time to organize. We can forward you a list of important attendees, the budget details, and your income for coordinating the proposed event.”
Daisy swallows, her brain still swirling with too many conflicting emotions—excitement and grief and overwhelm—as she acknowledges her new reality. “Okay. Thank you, that would be appreciated,” she replies, knowing she needs to remain collected and professional despite the cavern where her heart was.
“This would be a first step in fostering positive relationships within our community and supporting our members who may feel disconnected. Councilmembers Grace and Rose speak highly of you and your ability to organize, collaborate, and connect with others, so we hope to see those skills utilized here,” Councilperson Clellugs adds.
“Absolutely. Thank you for the endorsement,” Daisy says, nodding to Petra and Lachlan. “Will I have a team to help?”
