I do not own The Hunger Games, or its characters.
"I can't believe it Prim," Katniss said, as she sat on the leather sofa. "He can't be dead. I spoke with Gale last night and he…" Her face crumpled.
"You'll get through this Katniss," her sister said. "I'll help you."
Thirty-year-old Katniss Hawthorne had been getting ready to go to work at her job as the assistant manager of a Seattle sporting goods store a couple of hours earlier when the shrill ring of her phone sounded. She turned off the water, stepped out of the tiled shower and grabbed a towel, before picking up her cell phone that was sitting on the granite countertop.
She didn't recognize the calling number but she suspected it was her husband Gale. He was in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, for a charter-fishing trip with some friends. He was probably calling to say he'd lost his cell phone again. He'd done that a couple of times in recent months. He kept setting it down and walking off.
Instead it was his friend Thom. "Katniss I have some bad news," he sobbed. "Gale fell overboard and we can't find him."
Tom was crying and Katniss froze in shock.
"What?" she questioned. How could that even be possible? Gale was an excellent swimmer. Even if he'd fallen overboard he'd certainly be able to stay afloat until he was rescued.
A thought suddenly occurred. Could he be drunk? Maybe they all were? But it was only 10 a.m. in Cabo now. A million thoughts rushed through her head.
Thom continued to choke out an explanation. "Gale was at the back of the boat with Bristel when it happened. Bristel told us and the captain brought the boat around but we couldn't find him at all. He just vanished Katniss."
Katniss felt her brain disconnect from her body. Was this really happening? Maybe she could set down the phone and hop back into the shower and the whole thing would go away.
"Is Bristel there? Can I talk to him?" Katniss tightened her grip on the phone.
"He's not here right now," Thom said. "He's with the captain talking to the authorities."
"Wait." Her brain froze. "Where are you guys?"
"We're back on shore," Thom explained. "We searched for Gale for almost an hour but we couldn't find him so we turned back and headed for shore."
"You left him floating out there in the ocean?" she screamed.
"Katniss, we couldn't see him anywhere. There were ten guys on the boat. We never saw him at all."
Terror washed over her. Her heart was racing. Her head began to spin and she reached for the side of the counter to hold on so she wouldn't fall down. Her breathing grew shallow.
After a couple of minutes of silence she heard a voice, "Kantiss are you still there?"
"Yes," she mumbled.
"I'll call you back when we know more," Thom said suddenly. The phone went dead.
"When you know more," she muttered to herself. What more could he know? Did he think Gale had swum to shore and was sitting in a beachfront bar downing a Corona? No, he was probably
still floating in the Pacific Ocean cursing his friends for abandoning him to drown. Unless he'd been eaten by a shark?
A tiny sound formed in the back of her throat. She began to hyperventilate. I need to call Prim she thought. Katniss sat down on the closed toilet seat and dialed her sister's number, but when Prim answered she couldn't say a word.
"Katniss, are you there?" her twenty-six-year-old sister asked. "Are you butt dialing me again?"
A few unintelligible squeaks left Katniss' mouth
The phone went dead. Frustrated she dialed Prim's number again.
"Are you there Katniss?" she heard Prim say.
"Yes," she murmured. She took a deep breath before she spoke. "Prim I need you. Gale's…he might be dead."
"I'll be right there," her sister said.
Katniss stared at the wall. Could this really be happening to her? It was like something out of a story, like something she herself would write into a story. It couldn't be real. Her mind raced until she heard a banging on the front door.
Could it be Prim already? How did she get here so fast? Katniss checked the time on her phone. She'd been sitting in the bathroom for nearly 30 minutes. How had she lost track of time? Was she going crazy?
She stood up, securing the towel around her body, which was completely dry now and made her way to the door. She looked through the peephole. Prim was standing in front. Her face was grim. Katniss quickly unlocked the door and her sister pushed in.
"Oh Katniss," Prim cried, as she threw her arms around her sister. "What happened?"
The two women walked over to the leather couch and sat down. After Katniss had haltingly told Prim about the phone call, both held each other while Katniss cried for a few minutes.
"Did you call Hazelle?" Prim asked, wiping the tears from her sister's face with the edge of Katniss' towel.
"I only called you."
Katniss glanced down at the phone in her hand checking the time. "Damn, I'm late for work."
"Give that to me," Prim said, taking the phone from her hand. "I'll call in for you."
Prim searched Katniss' contacts and called her sister's boss Haymitch Abernathy and explained about Gale's disappearance.
She held the phone out so Katniss could hear her boss' comments.
"Tell sweetheart I'm sorry. She can take the week off to take care of things. Let me know what arrangements you make."
Prim put the phone to her ear. "We will," she said, before ending the call.
"You need to call Hazelle," Prim said.
Kantiss frowned. Her mother-in-law had gotten remarried a few years ago to a wealthy businessman, the owner of a chain of laundromats. The couple spent most of their time traveling. Katniss had no idea where or what time zone they were even in right now.
"I'd call her for you," Prim said, "but it's probably not a good idea. We haven't spoken since…"
Her voice dropped off and Katniss squeezed her sister's hand. Prim had been engaged to Gale's brother Rory for a few months last year, until she had discovered Rory in bed with a co-worker.
Prim had flipped out and destroyed most of their apartment, as well as attacking the woman and cutting off her long red hair with a scissor. Neighbors had called the police, Prim was arrested, and Katniss had to bail her out of jail.
Of course the Hawthorne family had taken Rory's side. Katniss and Gale had even gotten into a big fight over the incident. But that was last year. Prim had moved on and was now happily living with Thresh, a handsome hulk of a man.
She'd told Katniss, she been drawn to Thresh initially because of his height and his muscles. She'd been looking for someone who would intimidate Rory and could handily kick his ass if necessary. But Thresh turned out to be great guy with a funny personality.
"Rory really did me a favor," Prim admitted to Katniss the last time they'd rehashed the failed engagement. "Thresh is a far nice and kinder person than Rory ever was. Plus he's way better in bed."
"I don't need to know that," Katniss blushed.
Her sister had dated a lot over the years and had been quite descriptive in detailing her many boyfriends' peculiarities.
While she didn't like knowing about her sister's amorous proclivities, the information had come in handy as some of those tidbits found their way into the steamy stories Katniss wrote in her spare time.
Katniss, on the other hand, had barely dated. She'd always been the girl who had her nose in a book. When Prim questioned her about it once, Katniss had jokingly said, "I only date fictional characters. In my head."
She'd met Gale Hawthorne when he had come into her store to buy a new bow. He'd left with her phone number and a promise that she'd meet him at Starbucks when her shift ended. Within six months they were married. Gale, who was two years older than her, was a busy man, a rising star at a large software company. He made lots of money and had stock options, as well. Less than a year after they were married they'd already purchased a large home.
"Quit your job," he told Katniss. "I make more than enough money for both of us. Stay home and write the great American novel. Not that crap you've been working on."
Katniss flinched at his insult. She'd always dreamed of being a writer and had nearly a dozen original short stories and a couple of half-finished novels on her computer's hard drive before she'd even graduated from college.
But it wasn't until she started writing fan fiction, using other writer's characters to tell a story, that she'd finally got some recognition. It wasn't long before people all over the world were reading her stories and giving her lovely reviews. She'd be damned if she'd give it up just because he didn't approve.
With Gale's promotions came the need for him to travel for work. Katniss didn't mind, though. When Gale was gone she could write through the night if she wanted.
Her life fell into a routine. Working at the sporting goods store by day, writing in the evenings when Gale was watching t.v., or surfing the internet, or playing some online game.
Thom called Katniss later that evening. A number of boats had been sent out but there was no sign of Gale. The trip was cut short, and the group was returning to Seattle.
"I need to book a trip to Cabo," Katniss told Prim.
"Why Katniss? Are you going to search for Gale yourself? Do you think he's floating on the waves waiting for you?"
"Prim that is so harsh," she cried.
"Sorry, but it's the truth. You might as well accept it."
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The next few days went by in a blur. Prim took some time off her nursing job and stayed with Katniss. Thresh brought the sisters takeout while Katniss made phone calls. They scheduled a memorial service for a couple of weeks later; it was the only time Hazelle was able to attend.
"You need to be there," Prim told Thresh. "I need Rory to see you with me."
Thresh laughed in his easy-going manner.
The memorial service was a grim affair. Between trying to make small talk with Gale's co-workers and keeping Prim away from Rory, Katniss was drained. She went home, took off her clothes, turned off her phone, and went to bed. Four days later she got up and checked her phone. There were many calls and texts from Haymitch and Prim, and even one from her estranged mother.
She scowled. She hadn't eaten in days and the room spun as she made her way into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. It was filled with leftover takeout food nearly a week old, hardly appetizing and probably unsafe to eat. She noticed a paper sack and pulled out a hardened donut. She put the donut into the microwave for ten seconds to soften it up, and then took a bite.
She wondered if she even had a job anymore. Haymitch had attended the memorial service and had questioned her about when she planned to return to work. She'd been vague in her reply, but she could tell he was frustrated. At that point she'd missed two weeks of work. Now it was closer to three weeks.
She took a shower before returning her calls.
Haymitch was livid. "If you want to keep your job, I need you in here tomorrow morning."
Prim was angry, as well. "I understand if you're grieving. But it's like you dropped off the face of the earth. Thresh was going to kick your door down for me this afternoon if I didn't hear from you."
Katniss scowled. She got dressed and headed out to a grocery store to pick up some food. She got halfway through the task and had to stop as she found herself in the cereal aisle staring at a box of Apple Jacks, Gale's favorite breakfast food. She abandoned the half-full cart in front of the display and headed out the door.
She went through a fast food drive-through ordering several tacos and a couple of hamburgers. That would be enough food until tomorrow when she might be ready to re-enter the grocery store and try to shop again.
When she got home, she opened her mailbox to a pile of bills that been sitting there for days, perhaps even weeks. She carried them inside the house and tossed them onto her kitchen counter. Most of them were addressed to Gale. He'd been the one who paid all the bills; she didn't have any idea what it cost to maintain the house or even the exact amount of their mortgage payment.
She sat on the leather couch and devoured the food. She was hungry. But within an hour, she felt sick at her stomach. It was too much food, eaten too quickly on a stomach that had been shrinking for the past several days.
She curled up into a tiny ball on the sofa as pains shot through her belly. She had nearly fallen asleep when she heard a loud rapping on her door.
"Katniss, open up now." It was Prim.
She groaned, stretching out and getting up to open the door.
"Well, at least you got dressed," her sister noted as she took in Katniss' appearance.
"I brought you something to eat." Prim was holding a pizza box.
Katniss rubbed her stomach. "I just had some fast food and I feel sick."
Prim laughed. She set the box down on the counter and noticed the stack of bills.
"You need to open this stuff," Prim said. "If you don't, the bill collectors will be calling."
Kantiss nodded. She remembered the bill collectors that hounded her family after the death of their father. It had gotten so bad that neither she nor Prim would answer the phone anymore. But after a while it didn't matter because the phone had been shut off because they couldn't pay that bill either.
She used to be on top of stuff like this. How had she gotten so lazy about it? But she remembered it wasn't laziness, Gale had taken care the bills before she even had a chance to see them. After years of worrying about money, she had let him take over. It had been a relief not to worry about such things.
She picked up the bills and sat down, opening them one-by-one, and setting them out on the table in front of her. Prim helped her sort them into piles.
"You should pay the utility bills first," Prim suggested. "I assume you want to keep the lights on."
Katniss nodded, surprised to see that the electric bill was so high. She had no idea that it cost so much to keep the house lit up.
"What the hell?" Prim was biting her lip and her face had gone red. "Katniss, what the hell is this?" she shouted, shoving a credit card bill in front of Katniss' face.
Katniss looked at the VISA bill. On it was the charge for Gale's airline ticket to Mexico, as well as the charter boat tour fee. That wasn't unusual. But the next item was odd. It was a charge for an airline ticket for Miss Madge Undersee to Mexico. She was taking the same flight as Gale.
"Who is that woman?" Prim shouted. "Damn it! Gale was cheating on you Katniss. I swear those Hawthornes are the biggest pigs the world has ever known."
Katniss looked at Prim and then looked back at the bill. Was it possible? Could Gale have been cheating on her?
She thought back over the past few months, the past few years. Sure their marriage had its ups and downs. All marriages did. And Gale could be a jerk sometimes, a big one. But there had to be some other explanation.
"I don't think so," Katniss said.
But Prim was on a roll. She began stacking the evidence. "Look at this Katniss. He cashed out all his stock options. He took a lot of money out of your joint savings. Something was going on."
Kantiss reached for the financial statements. Had Gale been planning some kind of surprise for them? Had he made a big purchase?
"What did he do with the money Katniss?" Prim prodded her sister. "Where is it?"
Katniss sat in her chair and looked over the paperwork puzzled. How could this even be possible? The lethargy that she'd felt over the past few weeks seemed to be giving way as anger swept over her.
"I don't know Prim," she finally said. As quickly as the anger had bubbled up it faded away, leaving a heaviness in its wake.
She stood up from the table and went to the sofa to curl up onto her side.
"Don't do this Katniss," Prim said. "You're acting like Mom."
Katniss shuddered at the thought. If there was anyone she did not want to imitate it was their mother, who had turned into a zombie after the death of their father years ago.
She got up from the sofa and returned to the table. "What should I do Prim?"
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"The view is great," Katniss said as she stood on the upstairs balcony of the house she had decided to rent on District 12 Island. The island was one of the smallest in the San Juan Island chain, located off the coast of northwestern Washington state. A narrow road ran in front of the house. Beyond it was a steep rocky slope that ended at the water's edge.
The owner smiled at her knowingly. His seductive smile and bright blue eyes had no effect on her. There was something skeevy about this Rye Mellark that Katniss couldn't quite put her finger on.
"Yeah, my great great great-uncle Captain Peeta Mellark, built Gull Cottage one hundred years ago," Rye continued. "He was a sea captain." He pointed to the portrait that hung over the fireplace in the room.
Katniss glanced at the painting politely. "Oh, that's why there are so many nautical-type antiques in the house."
"Um, yeah. I wanted to keep them around." He changed the subject. "Let me have you sign the lease. You selected the six-month option."
Rye walked back into the combined sitting room/bedroom, and pulled some paperwork from his pocket. He set the papers down on the writing desk that stood in the center of the room. Katniss followed him, closing the french doors behind her.
Rye handed her the pen and she bent over the desk, signing on the dotted line.
Rye handed her a copy of the lease and a key. "What are you going to do up here all by yourself?" he asked. "It's pretty isolated here." He smiled at her again, checking her out from head to toe.
Katniss took a step back. Is this creep trying to hit on me?
"I'm a writer," she said. "I like the isolation."
"What do you write?" Rye asked. "Would I know any of your work?"
"I write on the internet for women," Katniss admitted.
"Oh," Rye said. "You write erotica?"
"What?! No," Katniss insisted. "Why would you think that?" Her face grew warm. Thank goodness she wrote under a pen name. She didn't want that creep googling her and reading any of her stories. Especially if he thought she was as promiscuous as the women she wrote about.
She walked out of the room quickly, leaving Rye to follow her. The perve is probably checking out my butt, she thought as she rushed down the stairs to the front door, opening it wide.
"If you have any problems, don't hesitate to call me," Rye said, from behind her.
Katniss heard a loud snicker. What's so funny, she thought, turning her head to glare at Rye.
But a look of fright crossed the man's face and he hurried right past Katniss and out the door onto the large covered porch.
"Remember the lease is for six months," he said. "If you break it, you still owe me the rent."
"Sure," Katniss muttered, closing the door on him. What was wrong with the man? If she broke the lease because of him bothering her she sure as hell wasn't going to pay him six months' rent.
She walked back inside. She had brought sacks of groceries, two suitcases of clothing, and her laptop with her. The island wasn't as isolated as Rye implied. A small market and tiny restaurant stood a mile down the road. About three hundred people were scattered over District 12, which was accessible by private boat. During the summer months that number swelled to six hundred as tourists arrived.
Katniss carried the groceries into the kitchen. It was small by modern standards, but had been updated nicely with granite counters and stainless steel appliances. Katniss wondered what it had looked like originally when the house was built.
When she was done putting things away in the kitchen, Katniss carried her luggage upstairs. She planned to sleep in the sitting room/bedroom with the large balcony. An old-fashioned telescope was set up in front of the french doors that led out to the balcony.
A gust of wind blew into the room. Katniss could have sworn she'd closed those doors. The wind must have pushed them open. She walked over and shut the doors again.
She unpacked her bags, putting her clothing in the tall chest of drawers that stood near the door. She opened the tiny closet and placed her luggage on a shelf.
She set her laptop on the desk and opened it. She took a deep breath. For the first time in weeks, she felt at ease. After Prim had convinced her of Gale's adultery by providing reams of paper evidence she'd uncovered in Gale's filing cabinet, Katniss had taken charge of her life for the first time in years.
She'd quit her job, emptied the bank accounts, and sold off all of Gale's possessions on Craig's List. If she watched her money carefully, she could spend all her time writing for several years before she needed to find a job. Hopefully she'd have a best seller by then and would be able to support herself as a writer.
Katniss turned on her laptop and began to write. She had gotten nearly 2,000 words down when she felt an odd tickling sensation on her check. It almost felt as if someone was blowing warm air onto her skin.
She wrote a couple more sentences, and then the sensation occurred again. Automatically, she rubbed her cheek. She took a deep breath, saved her work and closed the lid of her computer.
She must be tired. It had been an exhausting day. She should get something to eat. She stood up and walked out of the room. Immediately the smell of freshly baked bread overwhelmed her. Her stomach growled and she hurried downstairs.
The smell was coming from the kitchen. A bright red light flashed at her on the stove's panel. The oven was on.
That's odd, she thought.
She opened the oven but it was empty.
How did the stove turn on? Maybe, it's on an automatic timer. The bread smell could easily be explained. Maybe there was some lingering scent of the last thing cooked in the oven.
She turned the oven off and opened the refrigerator. She didn't feel like cooking. She decided to check out the restaurant down the road. She found her purse and took some cash from her wallet, and then left the house, locking the door behind her.
It was a fifteen-minute walk to Sae's Place. Katniss sat down at the counter in the empty diner. An older woman with grey hair and a wrinkled face handed her a menu. She looked it over carefully.
"Is there anything you'd recommend?"
The woman smiled. "A bowl of stew and some hearty bread."
Katniss nodded. The smell of fresh bread in her kitchen had made her crave it.
The woman walked back into the kitchen. Less than minute later, she returned with a large bowl of savory stew and a small plate with two brown rolls on it. She set it down in front of Katniss who quickly picked up her spoon.
"Coffee?" the woman asked.
Katniss nodded, and the woman grabbed a mug from behind the counter and poured her a cup.
"Where are you staying?" the woman asked when Katniss had slowed her eating and stopped to take a sip from her coffee.
"Down the road," Katniss said. "I'm renting Gull Cottage."
"Captain Mellark's place?"
"Do people refer to it that way?"
The woman nodded. "He built it one hundred years ago. It's one of the oldest houses on the island."
"Fortunately, it's been updated since then," Katniss said.
"I know all about that," she replied. "The workers ate all their meals down here when the work was being done. You haven't experienced anything strange, then?"
"Strange?" Katniss looked up puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"The workers said all kinds of peculiar things happened during the renovation. Unexplained things."
"That's odd," Katniss replied. But already she had wondered about the french doors that had opened, and the oven that was on, and the smell of bread. Well the bread smell she didn't mind. That had been nice actually.
"Well, not so unusual considering that Captain Mellark killed himself in that house."
"What?!" A shiver ran down Katniss' back.
"Yes," the woman nodded. "It's said that people who meet violent or unexpected ends often come back to haunt the living."
Katniss visibly shivered. But then her mind flew to Gale. He'd had an unexpected end and he'd never returned to haunt her. Probably because if he materialized in front of her he knew she'd throw something at him now that she knew about his cheating.
"No one's ever stays very long in the house," the woman continued. "I think Captain Mellark scares them away."
"Well, he better not scare me away. I signed a six-month lease."
The woman looked at Katniss sympathetically. "I'm sure you'll be fine dear. But if you have any problems, I'm always here to help. I'm Sae, by the way."
"Katniss Hawthorne." Hawthorne until I can legally change my name back to Everdeen, she thought.
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When Katniss returned to Gull Cottage, everything was quiet. The smell of baking bread was gone. She walked into the kitchen and saw that the oven was still off.
Silly woman, she thought, as she climbed the stairs. Sae was just trying to scare me with all that talk about ghosts. But when she walked into her room, a cool breeze assaulted her. The french doors were open wide. The luggage she had put away in the closet was sitting on the edge of the bed. All of the clothing she had tucked into the chest of drawers was piled in a heap next to her bags.
This was the work of a person, not a damn ghost.
"What the…" she began, but stopped immediately when she saw a flicker of movement on the balcony. A man was standing with his back to her looking out at the view of the ocean. She jumped back instinctively looking around the room for some kind of weapon.
She never saw him leave the balcony, but immediately he was standing in front of her. Her heart was pounding and not only from fear. The man was, as Prim would describe it, a hunk.
He was wearing navy pants and a pea coat. He was medium height and had a stocky build. His ash blonde hair was tousled, probably from the wind, and he had a scruffy beard, like he hadn't shaved for a few days. But the thing that drew her in was his eyes, bright blue.
She bit her lip for a moment wondering what to do. She had no weapon. She instinctively picked up her laptop and held it tightly to her chest. If this intruder wanted her computer, she would kill him barehanded.
"Who are you?" she spat out.
The man smiled at her and her heart fluttered. It would be so much easier to be angry if he wasn't so damn good-looking.
"Get out now, this is my house," she said.
He chuckled loudly. "No, madam. You are mistaken. This is my house."
Madam, who in the hell used language like that these days? Did it have some new meaning she hadn't heard of? She made a mental note to check it out in the Urban Dictionary.
"I signed a six-month lease," she told the man.
"Impossible. I'm the owner and I'm certainly not leasing this house."
Damn that Rye Mellark. He'd scammed her. She knew that man was shifty.
Worried that the real owner would turn her out, she decided to appeal to his good nature. "Well someone is misrepresenting you," Katniss explained. "A man named Rye Mellark told me that he owned this house. He said his great great great-uncle built it one hundred years ago."
"No, it was built ninety-seven years ago," the man replied.
So he was a stickler for detail.
"I'm Katniss Hawthorne," she introduced herself.
"Peeta Mellark," the man replied.
Katniss stretched out her hand to shake his, but Peeta kept his hands at his side.
Feeling awkward, Katniss babbled, "oh so you're related to the captain as well." She pointed to the painting over the fireplace.
"I am the captain."
Okay so this man was clearly nuts. Maybe Rye Mellark had a crazy brother. There did appear to be a family resemblance. Perhaps she could talk some sense into the man and then call Rye to take him away.
"You can't be the owner," Katniss reasoned. "He died a long time ago. I heard he killed himself."
"I didn't commit suicide," Peeta fumed. "I fell asleep in front of the blasted gas fireplace in my bedroom, in my armchair. I must have kicked on the gas with my foot in my sleep. It was a stormy night and I'd closed the windows. My stupid cleaning woman came in the next morning and found me dead. They called it a suicide because she said I always slept with my windows open."
Katniss listened carefully. This Peeta or whoever he really was, told a very convincing story. But she wasn't falling for his games.
"If you're really the captain, then prove it," she said.
The man stretched out his arm. "Give me your hand," he said.
Katniss shook her head. She took a step backward, an uneasy feeling washing over her. What had she been thinking? She was standing in close quarters with a crazy person, albeit an extremely attractive one, but someone who could easily overpower her. He could rape her, kill her, and cut her up into tiny little pieces and no one would ever find her remains.
The man took a step toward her and reached for the long braid hanging over her left shoulder. She took a deep breath, frozen in place by his movement, expecting him to pull her hair and yank her toward him.
Instead she watched as his hand passed neatly through her hair. She never even felt his touch.
A scream rose in her throat but it never made its way out. She turned quickly clutching her laptop to her chest, racing from the room and down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, he was standing in front of her.
How had he done that? Oh yeah, he was obviously a ghost.
"Now do you believe me, madam?"
She nodded timidly.
"So you'll return to your packing?"
"What?! No, I have a lease. I put down a deposit, and paid the first and last month's rent already. I can't leave this place. I have nowhere to go. Someone's already rented my house in Seattle." Anger made her cheeks grew pink.
Peeta frowned. "Why would a woman like yourself want to live in such an out-of-the-way place like this? You'll never find a husband in this lonely spot. What does your family think about it?"
Katniss scowled. So the captain was sexist, but then he was only expressing the typical viewpoint of a man of one hundred years ago. Maybe she should cut him some slack.
"I had a husband," she explained. "He cheated on me, but he's dead now so I guess we're even."
Peeta took a step back. "Cheated on you?" He looked surprised. "Did you murder him?"
Katniss laughed. That's rich, a ghost scared of her. She shook her head. "No, he drowned at sea." It suddenly struck her as ironic that she'd rented a home with a view of the ocean. It was like she was continually gazing at Gale's graveyard.
Peeta studied her curiously. "Okay then, if you're quiet, I'll allow you stay until your lease ends."
"How kind of you to allow it," she smirked.
She turned and walked up the stairs returning to her bedroom, setting her laptop down on the desk. Peeta was already there, standing in front of the telescope staring at some spot on the water.
A thought occurred to her. "How were you able to move my suitcases and my clothes if your hand went right through my hair?" she questioned.
He turned toward her. "You and I exist on different planes," he explained. "I can't touch living things, but I can touch inanimate objects. It makes for an interesting existence."
"I'd imagine so," she said, as she returned her suitcases to the closet and her clothes to the dresser drawers.
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"How can you stand being so isolated?" Prim stood on the steps of Gull Cottage surveying the view.
"I like it," Katniss said. "It suits me." She bent down to grab one of her sister's bags. "Why didn't Thresh come with you?"
"He gets seasick," Prim giggled. "Besides he figured we'd want some sister time before I leave and he didn't want to get in the way."
Katniss nodded. Her sister had called her a week earlier to tell her that she and Thresh, who was also a nurse, would be going to Africa for several months to do a volunteer stint with Doctors Without Borders, a humanitarian organization.
The two women entered the house and Prim surveyed it carefully. "This place is huge. What do you do all day?"
Katniss smiled. She and Prim were close, but she wasn't sure how much she should tell her sister about her life at Gull Cottage. Because she was sure Prim wouldn't understand.
It had been an adjustment living with a ghost. Both she and Peeta were very set in their ways. Fortunately, they had some things in common. Both were early risers.
Her first morning in Gull Cottage, before it was even light she'd awoken to the aroma of baking bread. She hurried downstairs, hoping that maybe Peeta was making her breakfast. If he could touch her suitcase and clothing, surely he could make a meal.
Instead she found the oven on again, but it was empty.
Disappointed, she went upstairs to dress. Peeta was standing at the telescope, looking out to sea.
"What's this thing with the bread smell and the oven?" she said. "I thought you were baking me a loaf."
Peeta turned to smirk at her. "Madam, I can't bake bread. My hands go right through the dough because yeast is a living thing."
""Don't call me madam," Katniss said. "It has a very different meaning these days. My name is Katniss."
"As you wish Katniss," Peeta said. "As for the bread smell, does it not make Gull Cottage homey?"
"It does," she agreed. "But it also makes me hungry."
"Why don't you make some bread then?"
"I don't know how."
"I can show you. I started my life at sea as a ship's cook."
Peeta dictated a list of ingredients she needed to purchase in the island's tiny market, things like flour, yeast, salt, and sugar. Katniss walked down the road to purchase the items. When she returned, Peeta gave her a baking lesson.
Afterwards, Katniss went upstairs and sat at her desk writing for most of the day. Peeta had vanished, but appeared later in the afternoon to study the sea from the telescope.
"What do you go when you disappear?" Katniss asked him.
"I visit with my friends."
"Other ghosts?"
"Of course, the island is full of them."
Katniss shivered.
That evening as the sun's golden rays bathed the room as it went down, Peeta sighed. "What I would give to paint this beautiful sight again."
Katniss lifted her head from her laptop. She'd been struggling over a love scene, well a graphic sex scene actually. She'd written so many of them, they all seemed to blend together.
"You're a painter?"
"Yes," Peeta said. "Haven't you seen my self portrait?" He motioned toward the artwork hanging over the fireplace.
Katniss stood up to study the painting. She hadn't done more than glance at it earlier. It was good, but as she compared the original person to the artwork, she realized that Peeta was much more attractive in person, well in spirit.
The painting didn't capture the intensity in his blue eyes, or the dimple in his cheek when he smiled, or the tousled look of his hair as the ocean breeze swept through the french doors.
"Would you be able to paint if I got you the supplies?"
"I believe so," Peeta said.
So when Katniss gave Prim a tour of the house, her sister had been astounded to find an easel sitting in her room with a half-painted canvas on it.
"You didn't do this Katniss," her sister exclaimed. "You can't even draw stick figures."
Katniss had considered hiding the easel in the attic while Prim was visiting, but she knew Peeta worked on it daily, although he had promised not to do it if Prim was in the room. So she had left it out.
"Oh, I've got some hidden skills," she murmured.
Suddenly Peeta was standing next to the painting. He chuckled. "Taking credit for my work."
A look of fear fell upon Katniss' face.
"She can neither see or hear me," he told her.
Katniss sighed in relief.
"You're such a bad liar," Prim said. "You met someone didn't you?"
"No," Katniss insisted. "I didn't." But a faint blush was creeping up her cheeks.
"You don't have to be embarrassed," Prim said. "I'm glad for you actually. I was worried you'd move here and go all Mom again, take to your bed and end up dehydrated and starved."
Prim walked around the room, stopping to peer through the telescope. Peeta stood nearby frowning at Kantiss. A sudden gust of wind blew in through the open french doors. Prim left the telescope and went to shut the doors.
"No, leave them open. Pe.. I like them open," Katniss blurted out.
Prim turned abruptly. "What were you going to say?"
Kantiss clamped her mouth shut.
Prim grinned and continued to walk around the room studying its nautical décor. She stopped in front of Peeta's portrait for a minute.
"He's kind of cute in an old-fashioned way," she said. "Is he someone famous?"
"That's Captain Peeta Mellark the builder of Gull Cottage."
"So he's probably really old now?" Prim guessed.
"He's been dead for almost a hundred years," Katniss answered.
"Ninety-three years," Peeta said. He was standing close to Prim watching her reaction to his work.
"Ninety-three," Katniss corrected herself, glaring at Peeta.
Prim continued walking around the room pausing in front of the ship's clock that hung on the wall before turning to face the massive desk in the center of the room.
"You spend a lot of time in here, don't you?"
"Yeah," Katniss admitted. "It's a good place to write."
"Have you gotten very far along into your novel?"
Kantiss frowned. When she'd moved to District 12 she had been fully intending to write a novel with her own original characters. Instead, she'd found herself returning to her old standby, fan fiction.
She knew her fandom's characters like the back of her hand and it was easy to write stories about them. Especially when the main male character Patrick Muir reminded her so much of Peeta. Why they even had the same initials.
"A little," she told her sister.
"More lies," Prim said. "I wandered over to your online profile on that fan fiction site the other day and I noticed that you started three new stories. And from all the sex in them, I'm guessing your painter friend is keeping you busy."
"Prim, there is no painter friend." Katniss insisted. Her face was warm and she hoped Peeta, who had vanished after Prim had called him cute, was off visiting his ghost friends.
"You don't need to be having sex to write about it," Katniss said. And that was no lie. Gale had been fairly stingy with his affections for months before his death and that's when she'd done some of her best writing. Why she'd even won an award for "best smut" from her fandom.
"Well, it certainly couldn't hurt," Prim retorted. "So when do I get to meet him?"
"Meet who?"
"The painter."
"For crying out loud Prim, you're the only living soul who's even stepped inside since I moved here."
"Whatever you say Katniss."
The rest of the visit went slowly downhill with Prim insisting that Katniss was lying about meeting someone and then asking, "Is it him?" each time they saw a male while out walking on the narrow road that ran past Gull Cottage or eating at Sae's diner.
The day before leaving, Prim befriended the world's ugliest feral cat while the two sisters were out exploring. The creature had a mashed in nose, half of one ear missing and eyes the color of rotting squash. Prim called him Buttercup because of his muddy yellow coat.
She carried Buttercup home and tried to bring him inside the house, but Katniss stopped her. "I'm not allowed to have pets. I don't want to get thrown out of Gull Cottage."
Prim frowned. "Okay, but promise me you'll feed him."
Kantiss scowled, but she agreed when Prim walked to the tiny market and brought back a sack of canned food for the cat.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Did you have a nice visit with your sister?" Peeta asked when Prim had gone.
Katniss was sitting at the desk staring at her computer screen.
"I guess," she admitted. "Although I'm not too crazy about that cat she found. I noticed you stayed away."
Peeta nodded. "I wanted to give you time to say your good-byes."
"Thank you," she muttered, avoiding glancing at him directly.
Before Prim's visit, Peeta had been her friend, albeit an unconventional one who popped in and out of her day and taught her the finer points of baking or describing the precise shade of orange in the sunset.
She'd shared stories of her life with Peeta, tales about her childhood and her family and even her less-than-stellar, as she now thought of it, marriage with Gale. In turn, Peeta told her stories about his family who owned a bakery and how he had decided to see the world by signing up as a ship's cook and then moving through the ranks until he was captain of his own ship.
But Prim's insistence that Peeta was a live person that was romantically interested in her had planted a seed in Katniss' heart and mind. It had made her look at Peeta differently. If he hadn't been a ghost, if he had been a live flesh-and-blood man, would she be interested in pursuing a relationship with him?
Peeta was old-fashioned in many ways, in his opinions and his manners. But he was also kind and thoughtful and talented. He took her writing seriously. Plus, he was quite attractive. Could she be falling in love with a ghost?
He was dead, she reminded herself. They could never have a real relationship. There could never be anything physical between them. A tiny ache formed in her chest
What would it be like to feel Peeta's lips on hers? She glanced at the bed that stood in the corner of the room. What would it be like to feel his hands all over her naked body?
She sighed deeply. Prim was right. She was too isolated at Gull Cottage. Sitting here day after day, living mostly in her head, writing stories about fictional characters that had lots of sex and then fell madly in love only fueled her sense of loneliness.
She shoved the thought of being with Peeta from her mind. Unfortunately, her unconscious mind didn't agree to stop thinking about him. He began appearing in her dreams - the most intense dreams she'd ever experienced. She'd wake up flushed and warm and excited. But once she realized it had only been a dream, she'd be overcome with sadness.
She wondered if Peeta watched her sleep, if he was aware of the shift in her feelings towards him.
Did he care about her? Occasionally she'd be writing and look up to find his eyes on her, a look of longing on his face.
Gah! The whole situation was so frustrating. If she were writing this situation into a story she'd put in a time portal that she could enter and meet up with Peeta. But would she want to live one hundred years in the past? Would Peeta be willing to live in the present? Peeta had said they were both living on different planes. Was there some in-between place where they could be together?
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Katniss gleefully hit the send icon on her computer. The final chapter posted.
"You look happy," Peeta said. He had started a new painting - one of Katniss. In it, she was sitting on the porch steps of Gull Cottage. She was wearing a dress typical of those worn a century ago.
"I am," she admitted. "Finishing always makes me smile."
"You should smile more often, it improves your looks."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment? Katniss teased.
A loud rapping on the door startled her.
"Who can that be?" she muttered.
She got up from her chair and went downstairs. She opened the door, screamed, and then held fast to the doorframe as the room spun around her.
Standing on her front porch was her dead husband. She gasped loudly, and then everything went black.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
When Katniss awoke, she was lying on her bed. How had she gotten there? Gale was sitting on the edge of the mattress. Was he going to haunt her too?
A giggle that bordered on hysteria rose in her throat as she pictured Peeta and Gale haunting Gull Cottage together.
But then Gale touched her arm, the solid touch of a living person, and Katniss sat upright quickly.
"How," she began, but Gale put his fingers over her lips.
"I know this is a shock, Katniss. But let me explain."
Katniss' eyes narrowed. "You died, or you let everyone think you died. I went through hell." The memory of her shock, her sadness, her sense of hopelessness about the future, and then the embarrassment and complete outrage when Prim uncovered evidence of Gale's cheating flooded through her.
A tight smile formed on Gale's face as if he was acknowledging his own cleverness.
"I didn't fall off the boat," he said. "I hid in one of the closets onboard and got off when we got back to shore."
"But Bristel saw.."
"He covered for me."
"Why?" But she didn't need an answer. Madge Undersee was the answer.
"Things weren't going so well for me at work before all this," Gale began. "I got involved with something that wasn't quite legal. It kind of got away from me. I wanted out but because of the circumstances faking my death seemed like the only option."
"Why didn't you say something?"
"If you remember, Katniss, you were kind of distant. All you did was spend your time writing your dumb little stories." He glanced at the open laptop on the desk. "I guess you still do."
Katniss listened as Gale gave a rambling explanation to justify his fake death and the theft of a good portion of their joint savings. The idea that he'd become involved in something illegal at work both surprised and repulsed her, but the comment about her "dumb little stories" made her livid.
"So why did you come back?" Katniss asked. Her voice was sharp.
"I came back for you."
"What do you mean?"
"Katniss, I miss you."
She rolled her eyes, enraged that he would think she was so desperate as to jump back into his arms after what he'd done. She pushed him out of the way, getting off the bed to stand and face him.
"I'm serious," Gale insisted.
"What about Madge Undersee?"
His face reddened and he coughed. "Did you think..oh, no.. She's Bristel's friend. I paid for her ticket in exchange for his help," he said.
So he wasn't cheating. For some reason that information made her feel better, at least slightly. But would a man who truly loved his wife put her through everything Gale had? She scowled at him, her fists clenching in anger.
Gale stood up to face her. "I didn't come here to fight Katniss. I admit I made a mistake, but I have an idea about how to fix it."
Out of the corner of her eye, Katniss saw Peeta standing next to the desk. She unclenched her fists, immediately calmed at the sight of him. She couldn't read Peeta's expression, but he did seem to be listening intently to Gale. She, too, was curious to hear what Gale proposed. How did it involve her?
"I can't come back for a number of reasons," Gale began. "Besides everyone thinks I'm already dead. But you could join me."
"What?" She didn't understand what he meant.
"Run away with me. I have some work contacts in China. You'd have to fake your death, though, and get a new identity. Otherwise, they might find me through you.
"But it wouldn't be difficult," he continued. "You could go swimming one morning and not return. Of course you should cash out our savings first. No point in leaving it all behind."
Katniss' jaw dropped. Was Gale crazy? Fake her death and leave the country. He had seriously overestimated her current feelings for him.
Her eyes drifted from Gale to look at Peeta again. He looked as shocked as she felt. She exchanged glances with him.
Gale turned nervously. "Is there someone here with you?"
He looked around the room, quickly, his eyes stopping on easel and the portrait of Katniss in front of Gull Cottage.
"Who did that?"
"A friend," Katniss said. "A male friend."
Astonishment passed over Gale's face before it was replaced by anger.
"Moved on quickly didn't you?"
Katniss smirked. "You know the vow I made to you was until death parts us. I thought you were dead."
"Well, I'm not. And I want my wife back."
"No," Katniss fumed. "You can't do this to me and then expect me to drop everything and follow you. Get the out of my house now."
"Stop being so dramatic Katniss. I know this is a big shock. Maybe you should take a walk or something to think it over," Gale suggested. "I'm hungry. I'll go downstairs and make myself a sandwich. We can talk once you've calmed down."
Furious, Katniss stormed past Gale, rushing down the stairs, and out the front door. Her thoughts were bubbling over. What was she going to do? She didn't want to be married to someone who had deliberately played with her emotions. Could she divorce a dead man?
She'd already mourned their relationship and moved on. She'd fallen in love again, unfortunately with a ghost, but still she'd rather spend her life pining for the ghostly Peeta Mellark than living the life of an expatriate with the lying Gale Hawthorne.
Buttercup chased after her sticking close to her side. With all the excitement today, she'd forgotten to feed him.
"No," she told Buttercup. "Get lost." She kicked her foot toward the cat to get him away from her. The cat moved from her side, but continued to follow, mewling loudly.
She walked down the center of the narrow road determined to figure a way out of this mess. Maybe she should call the authorities about Gale. But was it a crime to fake your own death? She didn't know. She could do a Google search about it.
Behind her the beep of a horn sounded. She turned. It was a car. She quickly moved to the narrow edge, glancing nervously at the rocks that lay below, to let it pass. She stared after the car wondering if she could be charged as an accomplice if she turned Gale in. People might think she was part of the whole thing. Maybe Gale would tell them she was for spite.
She stepped away from the edge, but tripped over Buttercup who had positioned himself at Kantiss' feet. The cat squealed loudly as Katniss lost her balance and fell backward over the side of the road. Damn cat, she thought before she hit her head hard on the rocks below. Blackness took over.
"Katniss, let me help you."
Her eyes opened. Peeta was reaching out to assist her. She grasped his hand and he pulled her to her feet.
"Come here," he said, drawing her forward.
He felt so real, so solid; she knew it had to be a dream. Besides, she'd never seen him outside of Gull Cottage. She must have hit her head very hard.
"What happened?"
"You tripped over the cat and lost your balance. You fell onto the rocks."
"So I'm dreaming then," she said. She hoped she wasn't hurt badly. She didn't want to end up in the hospital.
Peeta pulled her closer to his chest, his arms wrapped around her back. She leaned her head in, burying it into his chest. He smelled like the saltiness of the ocean with a hint of cinnamon.
Maybe this was the only way she could be with Peeta. In her dreams. If so, she wouldn't mind if she had a concussion and was knocked out for a few days.
She pulled her face from his chest and looked up at him. "This is nice. I hope I don't wake up for a while."
"Why is that?" Peeta asked.
"Because I'm happy right now here with you," she said.
"But I'm dead."
"You don't feel dead to me."
His hand rested on her braid, tugging it gently.
"That's because you're dead too," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.
"What do you mean?"
Peeta let go of her waist and pointed to the rocks beside them. Her body lay at an odd angle. Her neck was twisted and she could see blood pooling beside her head.
She pulled her hand up to her mouth in surprise. She took in a deep breath. "But I feel fine."
"You are fine," Peeta said. "Just living on another plane now."
He leaned down and captured her lips in a long kiss.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," Peeta said when they broke apart, both of them breathless.
"So have I," she said, before leaning back into his lips again.
"Let's go back and make some noise to scare your former husband out of our house," Peeta suggested when they broke apart a second time.
Katniss giggled. She had an idea of the kind of moans Peeta had in mind and she couldn't wait.
"I can still touch inanimate objects right?" she questioned him.
"Yes." He nibbled at her ear. "What do you have in mind?"
"I have an amazing idea for a new story. I'll type it up later."
THE END