"Hm."

I never was a whiz in the bakery. Or an artist either, for that matter. But as I stared at my latest masterpiece, the orange plate of marble and icing, a pat on the back would've been deserving. Grabbing an icing bag, the blue gel squished out in fine, graceful lines.

"Happy 40th Birthday Peeta!"

I inhaled the aroma of leftover marble cake batter and icing gel. Wiping down the mess I had made on the counter, washing the dishes, and cleaning everything up, I watched the time. Haymitch and the kids can keep Peeta occupied for only a little more time. It was already night. They'd gone to the square to spend a little time together, and make him forget about what today was. I sighed, and smiled to myself as Buttercup licked his paws at the open door.

"Mama!" My ten year old daughter, Rose sprinted into the room, and yelled out to me, "Daddy's coming! DADDY'S COMING!"

I gasped in mock surprise, while asking her to open the door to the living room and shut off all the lights. I stuck two candles, "40" on the cake beside his name, when I lit them, and headed over to the dark room.

I started to sing quietly, "Happy Birthday, Peeta, Happy Birthday Peeta...", when three year old Tule started mumbling along and Rose started to sing along, "Happy Birthday Daddy!"

He smiled, blowing out the candles as a sober Haymitch lifted Tule out of his arms.

"Yayaya!" Tule yelled intelligibly, in unison with his sister's much more clear, "Yay!"

Suddenly, we heard a noise from outside.

I opened the door, Peeta right with me, and stared at the glorious sight before us. All of District Twelve, Effie Trinket, and the remaining victors all sang to Peeta.

"Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday to you!"

Applause. I smiled.

"Forty years already?" he asked.

"Hm."