dreams vs. plans
Tai
Okay, so Van does not look happy to see her. And Tai can’t exactly blame her, because the last time the two had been in the same room things had not gone according to plan. Not that Van had ever really been a part of Tai’s plan.
In the aftermath of their return, clinging to whatever sense of normalcy they had left, Tai and Van had fled to a B&B in upstate New York, unable to face their families or even any of the other remaining Yellowjackets. For a while it seemed like a cottage-core fantasy, but in reality it was anything but. Some days they could hardly look at each other, staring at the wood-paneled walls with distant memories echoing in their heads.
The doors were padlocked shut, so Tai couldn’t leave when the ghosts in her mind took over, leading her out into the darkness and erasing any conviction she had left. Van kept a close eye on her, but Tai could tell that Van was running out of the energy required to take care of her.
Sex provided a balm of sorts when they couldn’t sleep, temporarily clearing their hazy minds and giving them something to focus on other than the utter disaster they had found themselves in. That part had always felt natural, like something all parts of Tai were predestined to do. Van’s scars shone in the darkness and Tai had never loved someone more.
But, of course it couldn’t last. Because they were hopeless, both of them, and in no state to care for themselves let alone each other. Van couldn’t keep up with Tai’s attempts to escape, to destroy, to exact revenge on whoever, whatever had done this to them. There were heated arguments where one or the other threatened to leave, both knowing that in reality they had nowhere to go.
Tai couldn’t let go of who Van had become out in the wilderness, and how different it was from the Van she thought she knew. And Van couldn’t let go of whatever was inside Tai that was itching to escape, that was connected to something much bigger than the two of them.
Tai heard Van, late at night, speaking on the phone with someone in hushed tones. She became paranoid, worried that Van was still attached to the belief system she had created out of a need for survival in the woods. Van had always been a believer. She believed in Tai when no one else did, never questioned Tai’s motivations or her driven nature. That was one of the things Tai appreciated the most about Van.
But it was also the very thing that led to their demise. Tai trusted Van, but not enough. She wanted to trust herself like she always had, but even that seemed impossible when she knew what her innermost self was capable of. So she ended things, in hopes of finding her way back to herself, of getting to a place where she could understand everything that had happened to her. In hopes of regaining control.
In the middle of the night, she found the keys that Van hid in her closet, unlocking the door and slipping outside, never to see Van again. She didn’t even leave a note, knowing the pain it would cause her to write to Van for the last time. She left the box of artifacts of their relationship, the wood carvings they made and the notes they scribbled to each other on scraps of paper, just little things to give them hope when they were in the pit of despair. She thought Van needed them more than her. But she kept one token of their relationship, a tiny piece of tree bark on which Van had written in blood, “I love you”, a throwback to the very first time Van had said that to her. On days where it felt like no one could ever love her, she needed that small, slightly morbid reminder.
Ten years had passed, and Tai was no closer to finding herself than she had been when they had landed back in the States. Van had never tried to contact her, and Tai assumed Van wanted nothing more to do with her. After all, why would she? There was something evil lurking within Tai, and she knew it and so did everybody else. She was never meant to have a love like Van, a love so unconditional, so brazen it could make Tai feel that for once in her life, she might be enough. No, that kind of love wasn’t for her. She’d left it all behind and now here she was, staring Van straight in the face, not having the slightest clue what to say.
Whatever she has to say, Van doesn’t seem to want to hear it. “What do you want, Tai?” Van says, and Tai can hear the hurt in her voice.
“Well, I really just came here for a pinot grigio,” Tai quips in an attempt to lighten the mood, but Van isn’t amused.
“Since when do you drink pinot grigio?” A fair question, since Tai had always favored a pale ale or whiskey of some kind. But that doesn’t quite fit with her new law school persona.
“Gotta keep up with these 3Ls somehow,” Tai sighs, and Van looks skeptical, like she doesn’t trust that Tai is really happy here in the city.
“Law school, huh? So you really did it?”
“Just like I did everything else I planned to do,” Tai replies, leaving out the part where she dreamed about marryingVan, moving somewhere where the people were accepting, and spending the rest of their days in a blissful love cocoon. Unfortunately, whimsies like that don’t exactly fit neatly into Tai’s life plan.
Van nods in agreement, though she still looks suspicious.
“And you?” Tai says, eager to change the subject. “You’re a bartender now?”
Van shrugs, non-committal. “I guess. I had to leave New Jersey, you know? And there was an opening here.”
“Did you know I come here all the time?” Tai asks, secretly wondering if Van might’ve followed her here. Ridiculous as that was. “Columbia Law is just around the corner.”
“I had no idea,” Van says, and she seems sincere. “What, do you think I googled you or something?”
“Maybe Igoogled you,” Tai says, unable to resist falling back into their usual flirtatious banter.
Van rolls her eyes, disbelieving. “So I guess I’ll be seeing a lot of you then?”
“I don’t know, I could always go to a different bar,” Tai says casually. Wow, Van must really hate her. But who can blame her?
“Oh, shut up,” Van says, pouring Tai a lager from the tap and sliding it across the bar.
Tai stares at the CO2 bubbles rising to the top of the glass. “Um, you know I said pinot grigio, right?”
“Oh did you?” Van replies teasingly. “C’mon, try it, it’s really good.”
Tai takes a sip. It’s crisp, malty, reminding her of Saturdays after soccer matches where she and Van would lay in the secret park near Tai’s house, making their way through a cheap six-pack and laughing about everything under the sun.
“It’s good,” she allows, taking another sip so she doesn’t have to meet Van’s eyes in the hazy glow of the bar. “Who runs this place, anyway?”
“Me, obviously,” Van perches from a barstool, propping her elbows on the counter.
“Ha ha,” Tai says sarcastically. “Seriously, I don’t even understand how this place stays in business. The drinks are so much cheaper than everywhere else.”
Van shrugs. “The guy who owns it is a bit of an oddball. Basically told me I can do whatever I want, just to leave him out of it. Maybe he’s secretly super wealthy, or maybe there’s a stack of bills somewhere collecting dust. Either way, not really my problem, is it?”
“I guess not,” says Tai. “Do you like working here?”
“It’s good, I guess,” Van gestures broadly around. “A strange crowd at times, but I like that. It was exhausting in college, having to be so chipper and positive all the time.”
“But Van, you are chipper and positive,” Tai says, images flashing through her mind of Van dancing in the locker room, and smiling at everyone in the hallways, and constantly cheering everyone up.
“Maybe I used to be,” Van replies wistfully. “It was hard after everything, I guess.”
Tai gets it. What happened to them had changed all of them. She doesn’t even know where some of her teammates are not, nor is she particularly eager to find out. Distance from the whole thing feels safer, and she can at least pretend that maybe she’s just a normal person who hasn’t gone through an experience that most people can’t even fathom.
“How’s your mom?” Tai asks, knowing that relationship had been complicated, to say the least.
“She died,” Van says matter-of-factly. “Cancer.”
“Oh, Van,” Tai says. “I’m so sorry.”
Van brushes it off. “It’s fine, I’m fine, everything’s fine.” She looks down at the floor. “Easier now in some ways, since I’m not constantly worrying about her.”
Tai looks at her. So much has happened between them. It’s so surreal to be sitting here in her favorite bar, with someone who was once her favorite person in the entire world.
“I missed you, Van.”
“And I’ll always care about you, Tai,” Van says carefully. “But I don’t know if I really trust you right now.”
It feels like a dagger in Tai’s heart. She takes her last sip of beer and spins her barstool around.
“I get it,” she says quietly. “I’ll see you around, Van.”
Van looks distressed as Tai walks to the door, pushing it open and heading out into the cool, misty night. “Don’t be a stranger!” she calls out, another attempt to lighten the conversation, but the door has already swung shut.