Epilogue
Peeta and I left on our honeymoon in high spirits, both of us looking forward to the evening ahead. We traveled by carriage to Lake Compounce, a most delightful area for sightseers to enjoy the lake and the amenities that surrounded it - walking paths, gardens and picnic areas.
Our wedding night was fraught with a nervous excitement for both of us. I was a virgin, and although he never said it, I am fairly certain that Peeta had never been with a woman before me.
It was true that we slept little that night, but it wasn't because we spent the night in a frenzy of sensual passion. Quite the contrary. After sharing a tender consummation of our love in our darkened hotel room, we both fell asleep.
I awoke a few hours later with blows to my face and shoulder. Naked, I rose quickly from the bed and reached for my dressing gown. I lit the bedside lamp to find Peeta thrashing about in his sleep. I shook him awake. At first he seemed surprised to see me beside him, perhaps he thought it was all a part of his dream. But then he noticed the red mark on my cheek. He ghosted his hand over it.
"I'm sorry Katniss. With the nightmares I have, I should have known better than to wed."
His comment brought angry tears to my eyes. As they spilled onto my cheeks, Peeta wiped them away with his hand, all the while murmuring his apologies.
"Tell me what you dreamed," I insisted. "Maybe I can help."
Peeta frowned as if he doubted my words, but he answered me. "It is the same dream every time. The panic of the ball striking my leg. The moment of my brother's death. I cannot seem to get past it."
My hand reached down beneath the blankets and landed on his left thigh. "May I see your leg?"
His face paled. "I don't think…"
But I wasn't waiting for Peeta's permission. Earlier that day, Pastor Odair had declared us to be one flesh. And for a time that evening it had been true. We had become one. Now I was determined to see his leg for myself. He had dimmed the light earlier when he'd removed his wooden limb and I had looked away in modesty for he was only wearing his drawers.
But I was bolder now. I slid my hand down his bare thigh to meet a calloused stump where I supposed his knee ought to be.
He winced at my touch.
"Am I hurting you?"
"No."
Slowly I lifted the blanket away to reveal his shortened limb. Even in the dim light, it looked to be thickly scarred and slightly reddened. I would be lying if I didn't say the sight shocked me.
My face must have revealed my emotions because my thoughts were interrupted by Peeta's voice.
"Look at me Katniss."
I lifted my head up to stare at his darkened eyes, noting the distress in them.
"I'm sorry," he began, but I didn't want his apology for something that was brought upon him. He was not at fault for the loss of his leg. He had been a sixteen-year-old boy caught up in a war, fighting for a cause that had been simmering long before his birth. And what was the prize for his youthful fervor? A lifetime of shame and embarrassment. Violent dreams and a missing limb.
My authoritative nature which had served me well in the classroom and not always so well in my personal life, refused to allow me to give up on Peeta.
"Stop it," I chided him. "You are not at fault here. You're my husband now. We'll figure this out together."
I twisted my body to turn off the lamp on the nearby side table. Then I fell into Peeta's arms. We lay awake in the dark talking to each other for hours. Eventually we fell asleep, sleeping late almost until lunch.
We spent three nights at the hotel near the lake, taking daily carriage rides, picnicking on the water's shore, listening to band concerts every night. Peeta didn't have any more nightmares.
By the time we returned to Panem, to our rooms over the bakery we were much more at ease with each other, having bared not only our bodies, but our hearts to each other.
Before we'd left, Peeta had hired someone to clean the living quarters above the bakery, and move some furniture from the Mellark house over for us to use. Our new home consisted of a parlor, a small bedroom and a fair-sized kitchen, complete with a dining table.
Fortunately, Peeta knew how to cook. "I spent a lot of time with Sae in the kitchen when I was little trying to hide away from my mother."
"Was she so awful?"
Peeta nodded. "She was. She was quite unkind to Delly when she first wed Phyl."
I was secretly glad not to have met the original Mrs. Mellark.
Married life was so different from my life as a teacher. I was bored silly. After spending one morning tidying up our small lodgings, I went to visit Annie and her son. "Whatever do you do all day? "
She told me about several different ladies clubs attended by the women of Panem, but as I lacked most domestic skills, I had no interest in meeting others to sew, or knit, or make quilts.
Finally after a few restless weeks, I asked Peeta if I could join him to work in the bakery.
"Phyl and I have things covered," he replied.
"So, I'll only get in the way then?"
He scowled. "I'll talk to my brother about it." I almost told him to forget it, as it was apparent that he didn't want to discuss the matter with Phyl. He hadn't told me, but I suspected that the two were not getting along so well lately and our marriage was the reason.
But I needn't have worried. Apparently Phyl decided to take a leave from the bakery after hearing of my interest. He'd always wanted to write a book about the history of Panem and the contribution of its male residents in fighting for the Union cause. With his children away for the summer visiting their grandparents, the timing was good as he could devote the entire day to his work.
So a week later, I found myself downstairs with Peeta learning to bake. I was determined to be a boon to my husband.
By the time fall arrived, I was an efficient baker. Phyl had finished his book and traveled to Boston to seek a publisher for it. Peeta and I moved into the Mellark family house to watch over Willow and Rye while he was gone. I enjoyed my role as auntie to the two children, even working with them in the evenings with the lessons the new teacher assigned to them.
Phyl returned six weeks later with a book contract and a new wife. Her name was Madge Hawthorne. She was the mother of a ten-year-old daughter and the widow of a soldier.
Her graciousness and sweet demeanor helped to diffuse the tension between the two brothers. We became frequent dinner guests at their home, and even entertained the couple in our tiny rooms above the bakery.
Madge's father had been mayor of a small town in Massachusetts and she seemed a good match for Phyl, supporting his political ambitions. Less than six months later, Phyl ran a successful campaign and was named mayor of Panem.
During that first year of our marriage, Peeta and I also paid a visit to my sister Prim's family. Prim had given birth to a son a few months after our wedding.
Being so often around young relatives, prompted Peeta to share his desire to have children of his own.
"You'd make a great mother," he told me regularly.
It was something I'd hardly considered so certain was I that I'd spend my life as a spinster schoolteacher. But as Peeta wanted them so badly, my thoughts became altered, especially as I observed his interactions with those children.
My husband had so changed from the grim man I'd first encountered when I came to Panem. He had moved far beyond the solitary place where he'd been living ever since the war. His nightmares had become infrequent. He was pursuing his talent as an artist, obtaining regular work as an illustrator for a couple of magazines.
By the time of our first wedding anniversary, I was the only Mellark working regularly in the bakery, alongside a paid staff. It wasn't necessary that I work there, the brothers had the financial means to run the operation entirely with hired help, but I liked to keep myself busy. At least for the next few months while I could still show myself in public.
"We'll have to move," Peeta pointed out. Our rooms above the bakery were too small and noisy to house the child I was now bearing.
Peeta purchased a small lot on the edge of town to build a house for us. He designed the floor plan himself. All the rooms were to be on a single level. Although he didn't say it, I knew it was because of his leg. His wooden limb was causing him pain. Many days he resorted to using crutches instead of attaching it.
Soon after the house was completed, we traveled to Boston so he could be fitted for a new limb. It was getting close to my time of delivery, but I didn't want to stay home alone.
We spent a week in that large city, time enough for final adjustments to be made to Peeta's new leg and for him to practice walking on it before traveling back by carriage to Panem.
"You've been strangely silent," Peeta commented, as we got closer to home.
I bit my lip and scowled. "I believe my labor has started."
Alarm swept over his face. "Katniss, why did you keep it secret from me? We must stop now and get help."
I shook my head. "We'll be home in a less than hour. I want to have the child in our bed, not alongside the road in a stranger's house.
Peeta yelled out the window for the driver to hurry.
When we arrived home, I needed assistance getting down from the carriage. My dress was wet, my waters having broke during the last miles of our ride.
Peeta came in the house with me, but not before begging the driver to hurry to Dr. Latier's house and bring him back.
I went into our room and pulled the quilt off the bed. I took off my wet dress and drawers leaving only my shift on, all the while experiencing sharp pains that were getting progressively worse.
"Go to the front door and wait for the doctor," I told Peeta in a brief moment of clarity between birth pangs.
"I'm not leaving you alone. He'll knock when he gets here."
"You can't expect to stay with me." I was hysterical in my plea. I did not want Peeta to see me in this out-of-control state. Men were not meant to witness the suffering that their wives went through during childbirth.
"I can't leave you."
I felt a strong pressure in my lower body, a distinct urge to push. Could the child be coming so soon? Annie had told me that her labor lasted far longer than the few hours I had already been in torment.
The grimace on my face must have indicated to Peeta that the child was ready to meet us.
"Lie on the bed Katniss and pull your knees up."
Mortified, I did as Peeta commanded. The position left my naked body fully exposed to my husband, giving him a view I'd only occasionally allowed him during our most private moments. The embarrassment would have been overwhelming if it weren't for my extreme discomfort. I cried out in anguish.
An odd look came over Peeta. "I think I see the baby's head."
He sat on the bed in front of me and put out his hands to catch the infant. A minute or two later, my body had pushed the child out completely. Peeta held the babe close to his chest. The squalling infant was bloody and covered with a chalky coating. Peeta's hands, even his clothing, was streaked with blood.
Lifting my eyes, I took in my husband's countenance. An expression of profound awe sat on his face.
"You have given us a daughter." His voice was hoarse, full of amazement.
I thought of him holding another person that was covered with blood, his dying brother. Would the wonder of this moment cancel out the despair of that other, grievous one?
A loud pounding interrupted my thoughts.
"It must Dr. Latier," I said.
Peeta seemed in a daze, lost in the worship of his daughter, ignoring the thumps on our front door.
"Peeta, give her to me and open the door."
He blinked a few times and looked toward me. "Oh, sorry." He pulled a pocketknife from his coat and cut her free from her the cord that still connected her to my body. "Will you hold her Katniss?"
"Yes." I stretched out my legs and pulled my shift down for modesty. Already blood was seeping through the sheer muslin cloth. I scooted backwards on the bed, propping myself up against the brass headboard.
I put out my arms to hold the child.
Peeta hurried off to the open the door.
Our daughter's alert eyes stared back at me. They were bright blue, the same as my husband's. I knew that babies' eyes often changed color as they got older, but I sincerely hoped that hers would remain the same hue as Peeta's.
A strange sensation of lightheadedness came over me. A bit of nausea. I shivered. I heard Peeta talking with the doctor. Why didn't they come to me? I needed a blanket. I was so cold.
I set the baby down beside me, before everything went black.
"Katniss." I heard Peeta's shout, but I couldn't respond. I was lost in a gauzy, violet-tinted world with no hard edges.
Specters surrounded me. I hugged my father, his firm arms reminding me so much of Peeta's. I spoke with Delly at length about my daughter, noticing a tall man standing near listening in. His smile was that of a Mellark, and I knew without a doubt that he must be Rye. There were others there too. I did not recognize them all, but I sensed they knew me very well.
The air was thick with a feeling of belonging. I did not want to leave that setting, but something tugged at my heart, a thick string, the kind used in the bakery to tie up the wrapped loaves of bread.
Peeta held fast to the other end of it. Ever so slowly he drew me from that realm and back to the land of flesh and blood.
"Katniss." He was sitting in a chair at my side when my eyes opened.
"I thought I'd lost you."
I wanted to tell him about what I'd seen. But my mouth was dry and I could only move my lips.
"The baby is fine," he said, assuming that was my concern. "Dr. Latier knew of someone who could nurse her."
I nodded, embarrassed that my first thought had not been for the child. But she was so new to me still. I did not yet know her.
He propped up my head and gave me some water. I swallowed it slowly, gratefully.
When I was done, Peeta sat on the edge of the bed and gathered me to himself.
"Peeta." My voice was raspy. I caught his eyes, noting that they were blood-shot and red-rimmed. Dark circles hung beneath them. Why had his appearance changed so?
"Save your voice. You've been asleep for over a day."
How was that possible? It seemed like only a few minutes had passed since I'd given birth. "What …?
"You lost a great amount of blood. Dr. Latier didn't think you'd make it, but Annie knew of an old midwife. She massaged your belly and was able to slow the bleeding.
He stood up and went to the door, shouting for Madge.
My sister-in-law entered the room, a relieved smile on her face. "Oh Katniss, I'm so glad you're awake. It's a miracle."
It took me a long while to gain my strength back. Plenty of time to lie abed and think. Had I been transported to the gates of heaven or was it a merely a dream?
It wasn't until weeks later, after my mother's and sister's visit to us, that I came to tell Peeta of the fantastical vision I had while I lingered between two worlds.
His eyes opened wide at my description. I was so pleased that he believed me. In fact, he peppered me for details, especially concerning his late brother.
"Was Rye happy in that place?"
"I believe so. I was happy. I have never known such peace before."
A fearful look came over him. "Well, I am glad you chose to return then. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't."
I met his eyes trying to reassure him. "I had no choice Peeta. Even in that place, I could feel you tugging me back. I do believe we were destined to be together."
He smiled and reached for my hand.
Later, after our girl Hope fell asleep in her cradle on the other side of the room, Peeta returned to our bed for the first time since her birth showing me exactly how glad he was that I had returned to him.
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Happiness is a fleeting emotion. We can chase after it but never catch it. It is only when we stop and sit still that we can see it all around us. If we are fortunate it might land on the curve our wrist for a brief moment taking the shape of a beautiful green and silver moth.
I have been truly blessed in my marriage to Peeta because that lovely moth has sat on my wrist many a time. But on those days when happiness eludes me, when old habits and old ways of thinking plague me, I remind myself of President Lincoln's sage advice. People are as happy as they make up their minds to be.
I take a deep breath, count my blessings, and choose to be happy.
The End
Author's Note: Lake Compounce Park in Connecticut was established in 1846 as a gathering spot for picnics, band concerts, public swimming and rowing on the lake. It featured a gazebo and had public walking paths, along with a few carnival-type rides. It was a popular gathering spot in the post Civil War era. Over the years the amenities at Lake Compounce were greatly enhanced. Today it is the oldest, continuously-operating amusement park in the United States.
The most common cause of postpartum hemorrhage occurs when the uterus does not contract after birth. This allows the uterus to continue bleeding, and can result in massive blood loss. Other causes of postpartum hemorrhage include failure to pass the entire placenta, forced removal of the placenta, and trauma to the uterus, cervix or vagina during delivery.