Chapter Twenty-Five
A Few Hours Later
Katniss
"Katniss!" I hear my name being called from below me as I rest in bed and I perk up at the sound of Peeta's voice.
"I'm up here!" I call back and in seconds he is running up the stairs and is standing in the doorway of our bedroom. His eyes widen when he sees me in bed and he slowly walks closer.
"What's the matter?" he asks, worry in his voice.
I allow a small smile to take over my face, trying to show him that I am okay. "I went to the bakery to help out and I started to feel some pains. Your dad went my mother."
"You were left on your own?" he asks.
"No. Your mother stayed with me. My mother came and then confirmed to me that it was Braxton Hicks. She brought me home and then told me I need to rest because we want the baby to stay inside me for as long as possible."
"Braxton Hicks?" Peeta repeats and I nod.
"Yeah. They're basically contractions. They're not meant to hurt too much but I was in a lot of pain. I thought the baby was coming for a second."
"Why didn't anyone come and tell me? What if you had been in labour? What if I had missed the birth?" Peeta questions.
"We would've got you if it came to that. Your mother was too busy trying to calm me while your dad went off to get my mother," I say.
"Wait. She was helping you?" he asks, obviously amazed.
"Yes. We also had a little talk, in which I told her she had to get used to me because I'm not going anywhere," I say, a grin spreading across my face.
"Oh." Peeta looks dazed. He lowers himself to sit beside me on the bed. "What did she say?" he asks.
"Nothing at all, she just carried on tidying up and then disappeared once my mother arrived. I think things are going to be a bit different from now on. I don't think we're going to be best friends or anything like that - I wouldn't want to be - but I think we're going to be civil adults."
"Your day has been pretty eventful, huh?" Peeta says.
"You've got that right. But everything is fine, the baby is fine and I am fine. The Braxton Hicks have stopped and I think our baby will be staying put for now," I explain.
"That's great. I want you for myself just a while longer," Peeta says, smiling as he leans forward to press his lips to mine.
I don't know why I agreed to this again - maybe it's because of the desperate look in Mr Mellark's eyes when he had asked me, or maybe that I thought it would make Peeta happy - but I regret agreeing to this now that I am once again sitting at the table with Peeta's family, having dinner together for the second time.
Unlike the first time, Peeta's two older brother's are in attendance. I expected them to behave the way they did at the dinner table after Peeta and I had married, but they are the complete opposite. Instead of acting silly and immature, they seem quiet and stiff.
The room is full to the brim with tension and awkwardness. I didn't come here expecting Mrs Mellark to be all cheery and polite, but I was at least expecting her to make some conversation - forced or not.
I twist my fork around my plate, before I bring a mouthful of food to my lips. I keep my eyes on the wooden surface of the table, preventing my eyes from awkwardly meeting the eyes of anyone else.
"How long until school finishes, Peet?" Mr Mellark asks, breaking the silence that had settled harshly over the room.
"Only one month left and then school is a closed chapter in my life," Peeta replies.
"I guess you can take on more hours at the bakery, make yourself useful," Mrs Mellark speaks up.
"I was hoping to have a little time off to help look after the baby, actually," Peeta admits.
"Of course! Take as much time off as you need," Mr Mellark quickly says, while his wife glares at him.
"How are we going to get any work done without another pair of hands?" Mrs Mellark snaps.
Peeta's older brother's share a look that says, 'Here we go'.
"We'll make it work. You don't want Peeta to miss the first few weeks of his child's life, do you?" Peeta's dad asks and my eyes leave Mr Mellark to focus on his wife, as we all wait for her reply.
"Of course not," Mrs Mellark replies through gritted teeth. "Hopefully, Peeta and... well, Katniss, will use birth control from now on. We don't want another one popping out anytime soon, do we?" Peeta's mother laughs bitterly.
"I don't think that's something we should discuss at the dinner table - and definitely not something we should be discussing with you," Peeta says. "That is a private matter and if Katniss and I want to use birth control, then we will come to that decision ourselves and not be forced into it."
"It was just a suggestion. I mean, Katniss hasn't even turned eighteen yet-"
I cut Mrs Mellark off. "My birthday is May 8th - in eight days."
"Yes. Well, as I was saying... You are both under twenty and you're already having one child. Obviously, this wasn't planned, but we can't change anything now. The least you can do is to stop it from happening again anytime soon."
I don't like the way she is speaking. I consider lying and telling everyone I feel ill so Peeta and I can leave but I decide that I need to work on not letting this woman bother me.
"What if we want another child in the next few years?" I ask, even though it's far from what I want. I wouldn't mind not having another child at all, I just want to hear what Mrs Mellark has to say.
"Then, I guess you can carry on. You'll just get names for yourselves," Mrs Mellark replies.
"How about we talk about the baby that will be arriving shortly instead of the babies that may come in the future?" Mr Mellark suggests and Peeta nods his head in agreement. "Are you prepared for this baby? Do you have everything you need?"
"I don't think you can ever be really prepared for a baby," I say. "I mean, we have all the things we need; a crib, clothes, all the essentials but it's going to be a big change having a baby around."
"And how did you come to afford to get all of those things?" Mrs Mellark asks.
"Well, Peeta and I both had some money to spare but family and friends have also been kind enough to help out and give us things that were no longer any use to them," I reply.
"You mean, most of it is second hand?" Mrs Mellark asks, wrinkling her nose as if she can smell something rotten.
"Yes. Is that really much of a problem?" I ask.
"No," Mr Mellark says quickly. "Not at all. If you do ever need anything all you have to do is ask."
"Oh. I wouldn't want to ask for anything. I don't want it to seem like I only want your money," I say, my eyes flickering over to Peeta's mother.
"Katniss," Peeta whispers and covers my hand with his. He squeezes it a little and I know it's a bit of a warning. I don't want to argue, yet I'm being slightly immature with the things I am saying.
I bow my head in shame before I sit up in my seat and clear my throat. "But," I continue. "Thank you for the offer."
Mr Mellark smiles, and we continue to finish eating dinner in silence.
May 8th
My eyes flutter open and then squeeze shut as the early morning sunlight blinds me. I yawn and cover my mouth with my hand as I roll onto my side to face Peeta, except he isn't in bed beside me.
I frown and sit up, looking around the room for any sign of him. I listen carefully but I hear nothing. However, as I breathe in, the wonderful smell of food makes my mouth water and a large smile spread across my face. He's in the kitchen.
I roll out of bed and waddle out of the bedroom. It takes all of my willpower not to run down the stairs immediately. I wash and brush my teeth in the bathroom and then I braid my hair back. I dress in dark trousers that covers my bump and one of Peeta's t-shirts before I start making my way downstairs as fast as a heavily pregnant woman can.
"Peeta," I call out as I walk into the kitchen. My husband stands up from where he is crouching in front of the oven, holding a tray of what looks and smells like cheese buns in his hands.
He turns so we are face-to-face and smiles at me. He drops the tray onto the counter before he comes over to kiss me. "Happy birthday," he says as he repeatedly presses his lips to mine.
"Good morning," I say back, wrapping my arms around his neck. "How does it feel to be able to stay home on a Monday instead of having to go to school?"
"It feels great. It means I get to spend the day with you," Peeta says.
"Wait. I thought you had to go work at the bak-"
"Dad said I could have the day off because it's your birthday."
"I bet your mother loved that," I say.
"Yeah. Well, I don't care. Today, I am going to give you the best birthday ever - and no birthday is complete without a cake," Peeta replies.
"A cake? I've never had a cake for my birthday before. We could never really afford one. My mother would make us cookies instead, but they were nothing like the ones you make in the bakery," I admit.
"I guess I'll be making you a cake and cookies today," Peeta says.
My eyes widen. "I didn't say that to get you to make both, I was just saying!"
"It's your birthday and you're carrying my baby. If you want cakes and cookies, you'll have them." He leads me over to the table and pulls a chair out for me. I sit down and he kisses my knuckles before he moves away to grab a plate and a few cheese buns. He then settles the plate in front of me and tells me to enjoy.
"You aren't going to eat with me?" I question.
"I'm going to start making your cake. So, what would you like? Strawberry? Chocolate? Berry? Lemon?" he asks.
"Whatever you like best," I answer.
He sighs and gives me a look. "Pick, Katniss."
"Lemon," I give in. I quickly add, "Please."
"Your wish is my command," Peeta says with a smile, before he starts gathering ingredient after ingredient.
I finish eating my cheese buns and stand to wash my plate at the sink, but Peeta swiftly takes the plate out of my hands and orders me to sit back down.
"I will not allow you to lift a hand today," he says.
"But I want to help you," I reply.
"Really?" he asks.
"Yes. You know I can't bake. Maybe you can teach me a few things?" I suggest.
"If that's what you want," Peeta says and finally allows me to help out.
He instructs me on how to measure the ingredients without even looking at a cookbook and then tells me to mix the ingredients in the bowl until there and no lumps and bumps.
"Can I dip my finger in the mixture and taste it?" I ask, thinking back to my younger years when my mother would let me eat some of the cookie batter with my finger.
"No!" Peeta says and snatches my hand away just as I am about to dip my finger into the bowl. "Pregnant women must avoid eating raw cookie or cake batter as raw eggs can carry salmonella or listeria."
"Oh," I mutter, looking down at the mixture sadly.
"You can eat as much mixture once our little one is here but, for now, stick to eating the cakes and cookies when they are fully cooked."
"Okay," I say with a huff. "It just looks really good."
We continue to bake away before Peeta allows me to scoop the mixture into the cake tin and then place the tin in the oven.
"What now?" I ask.
"Onto the cookies," he says and once again starts calling out the ingredients off by heart. "You want chocolate chips too?"
"Yes!" I nearly yell, my mouth literally watering at the thought of warm chocolate chip cookies. I start mixing the ingredients in the bowl as Peeta rests his chin on my shoulder and watches me.
I look up at him to find him looking back at me and a small blush comes to my cheeks. "What?" I ask.
"Nothing. You just - you have something on your nose," he says.
My hand comes up to my nose to wipe whatever it is away and I raise my eyebrows questioningly at Peeta to see if it's gone. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes as he lifts a finger to wipe my nose himself.
I don't notice the cookie dough on his finger until I can feel the wetness on my nose. "Hey!" I yell, as Peeta laughs and jumps away from me.
"Oh, the look on your face!" Peeta says with a chuckle.
I narrow my eyes at him and slowly pull the spoon I had been mixing the cookie batter with from the bowl. Peeta doesn't notice my sly move as his head is thrown back as he laughs.
I smirk and wait for the perfect moment. He wipes the happy tears from his eyes as he finally starts to calm down and that's when I move forward and wipe the spoon against the back of his hand and face. He gasps as he realises what I have done and he once again backs away from me.
I quickly make my way back to the mixing bowl and scoop some more cookie batter onto the spoon. Peeta holds his hands up in surrender. "Okay, wait! I didn't mean to start anything. I'll be the mature one and back down," he says.
"I don't think so. You were immature enough to start and I'll be immature enough to finish it off," I reply with a smirk. "What is it, Mellark? Are you scared?"
"What? Of you?" he questions, his own smile spreading across his face. "Never."
"Good - because it's war."
I step forward and swipe the spoon through the air, careful to keep a tight grip on the handle so it won't go flying and hurt Peeta. The batter on the spoon flies through the air and splatters against Peeta's clothes.
"Katniss!" Peeta exclaims and I explode into laughter. "It's on," Peeta says as he runs to the bowl and grabs a handful of batter.
"No," I say in a warning tone. Peeta steps closer and closer towards me. "No!"
His hand gently connects with my face as he rubs the batter all over my skin and hair.
"Peeta! That's so unfair!"
"How is it? You did it to me!" Peeta says.
"Because you did it first! I washed before I came down and now you've got the mixture all in my hair," I say with a huff.
Peeta wraps his arms around me. "I guess we better go clean ourselves off," Peeta replies, smiling down at me.
I can't help but smile back as I roll my eyes and kiss him.