Before the events in the prologue, obviously...not sure exactly when.
How do I bring this up? It's special news, but I'm really worried how Mom's going to take it. She has this idea that I don't need to create a career. Only Dad seems to think I can do what I want. But tonight he's not home, he's working late. Again. Somehow, I have to tell my mom about our special guest at school, without setting her off. A difficult job.
"Hey, mom," I walk into our dining room, sitting down at the table beside her, "Thanks for the shrimp, I just love it!"
She nods, "District 4 has the best seafood, I'm so happy it's in season." She rambles on about timing for foods, and other stuff. But I stare at my bowl of orange cream soup, trying to decide how to bring it up.
"So, Mom," she looks up, her long eye lashes batting, "We, had a career day at school."
"Oh, Euphemia, how nice for everyone. I assume you skipped that class. You are too pretty to ever need a career."
Apparently that wasn't the best way to bring this up, "Well, no I stayed and listened. It was very interesting, Mama."
"Euphemia, you are going to get married, you don't need a career." She frowns in my direction, and I struggle to control my breathing. Not only is she telling me not to pursue a career, but calling me by my full name, which I absolutely hate. Everyone else but her calls me Effie, why can't she?
"I know what you've said, but I got to take this test, it said that I'm people oriented, and will work well under stress and helping others."
She slams her hand down hard on the table making me jump, "Nonsense, you would only ruin a job, Euphemia, I don't want to hear any more." She stands, calling for a servant to come pick up the dishes. This conversation is obviously finished.
I lower my eyes, feeling the tears form. I can't argue with her, I'll have to wait for Dad to come home. He'll understand. At least I hope so.
After dinner, I rush up to my room, turning up my music enough to block out my Mom. She doesn't understand how badly I want to accept the teachers' offer, how much I want to work. And if I don't start training now, I'll never ever get this opportunity again. In fact she didn't even listen to what the teachers offered me. And everyone knows that not everyone in the Capitol gets offered these kind of deals.
I turn down the music after a little while, trying to be sure I hear when my Dad walks in. It's a bit after 10, when I hear him come in. I walk down the back set of stairs, eavesdropping on my parents greeting each other. Mom rarely spends much more than a hello kiss on him, I'm pretty sure she and dad aren't sleeping together anymore. But like always, they are polite. As soon as I know Mom has gone back up to her room, I sweep into our parlor.
"Daddy, I'm glad you're finally home!"
He looks up giving me a tired smile, and I give him a peck on the cheek, standing on my tiptoes to reach him. "How are you, honey?" He squezzes my hand, making me feel his care.
"Great! I had an amazing day, it was career day at school, and there were so many neat people and jobs, even tests, and I got to find out all this stuff, and my teacher,"
My dad holds up his hands, laughing, "Take it slow, Effie, you don't have to tell me all at once." He takes a step back, and I remind myself not to overwhelm him, after all it is pretty late.
I know I'm blushing, my face feels so hot, "Sorry, it was just so, so exciting!"
"What did you learn, tell me all about it," he sits on a chair, ready to listen to me. I love how my Dad always has time for everything, especially me.
"I'm a people person, work well under stress, and have a sense of diplomacy." I smile, knowing my dad is actually listening to me. "So what do you think?"
"My little princess might be getting a pretty cool job, huh?"
"She's not getting any job, Pythagoras. How can you encourage her?" her voice is harsh, mean even, surprising both of us.
I hadn't heard my mom and literally jump a foot in the air. Where did she come from? My dad's saying something, but I'm still trying to figure out how my mom snuck down here without me noticing.
"Lucille, don't play Effie down, she's smart, and can handle the world." I practically sink into the wall, as my parents begin to assault one another, over me.
"She's a clumsy girl, and you, Py have put these ideas into her head. No proper girl works for a living!"
"That's not true, don't be jealous because you are too lazy to work!"
"If Euphemia leaves the home, she'll turn into nothing more than a whore! Pretty girls like her can't get respectable jobs."
Shock overcomes by my mom's cruel words. I'm shaking all over, and cover up my ears to not hear, but the sound still filters in, the hate filled snarls of my mom, and it's just nauseating. I dart from the room, jumping the stairs into my bedroom.
I fall on the pink covers, my body is shaking uncontrollably. Why? I know my mom thinks terrible things of most working girls, but she thinks I would be a whore? I fight the urge to vomit, then the desire to scream. As my anger subsides, I begin to sob, clutching my teddy bears, and wishing I had never heard my mom's voice.
How old do you think Effie was in the 74th games?