I would have uploaded this yesterday but the site was down.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A lot can happen in three months.
Haymitch was not a pessimist. He'd like to think of himself as someone who would rather expect the worse because that expectation would have created an emotional buffer for when something worse actually did happen. He did not turn out to be this callous drunk without life being brutal to him.
It was second nature how all the worst possible scenarios began to form in his mind as he learnt the news of Effie's pregnancy. His shaking hand curled into a tight fist which he shoved into his pocket. The silver in his eyes had dimmed to be replaced with a faraway look of someone gazing into the future to get a sense of the trouble that lay ahead. Frown lines marred his face and it took a while for Effie's voice to bring him back.
He blinked and stared down at her, jaws clenched and muscles tensed with resentment. How dare she? She had no right to keep that information to herself. I deserve to know.
"I can be discharged today," she informed him with a small voice. "There's nothing much she could do. I'm told to have a lot of bed rest and ice packs or warm bath whenever I experience the cramping. She'll be giving me medications."
Outside the hospital room, in the distance at the town centre, Haymitch watched a boy unload a crate of milk from the back of the truck from his place by the window. The boy gave a grateful smile when a man, his father, climbed on board to help him. Something stirred inside of Haymitch, a longing and an ache to have what he just witnessed. To have his sons or daughters smile up at him because he did something for them.
"Haymitch? Please don't ignore me, say something at least."
The bitterness roared inside him and Haymitch spun around, stalking towards where she sat, looking tiny and miserable on the hospital bed. "You didn't think it was important to tell me?"
Effie recoiled, the harshness in his voice brought up memories of dark times she tried so hard to keep at bay every moment that she was awake.
"I didn't know I have fibroids until today."
"You know damn well that's not what I meant. Don't play dumb with me, Effie, it doesn't suits you," he moved to the foot of her bed. "What was that about you having a high risk of miscarriage or.. or premature delivery?"
His own breathing sounded loud in his ears, deep and rapid, especially in a room that had gone silent. Effie averted his gaze, pushing the covers aside and slipping into her slippers. He watched her as she shuffled around, retrieving the clothes he had brought for her from home. Her back was towards him as she shrugged out of hospital gown to change, still ignoring his question.
"Have you suddenly gone mute?" he asked snidely, the impatience lacing every syllable of his words.
"Haymitch…" she turned around, fixing her blouse and gnawing on her lips nervously, "can we go home now?"
"Why? So you can hide in our room like how you've been hiding that information from me?"
"Haymitch, please," her voice was strained. "Not here."
XxX
He made sure she had everything she needed before he disappeared from her side. It was his way of coddling her without making it seem like he was doing it. He did have his surly, drunken reputation to maintain. Effie smiled to herself as she rearranged the medications Haymitch had laid out on their vanity. There was even a heat pack nearby.
Effie was lying propped on the bed with a parenting book in her hands when Haymitch walked in that evening. His pants were muddy and his shirt was dirty. He pulled it over his head, leaving a soaked undershirt on and dropped it on the floor of their bedroom. Effie made a noise of disapproval and moved out of bed to pick his shirt off the floor.
"Leave it alone," he snapped at her, poking his head out of the bathroom. "Get back to bed and rest."
"You shouldn't have just thrown it carelessly on the floor in the first place if you don't want me bending down and picking it up. You know I don't like it."
"And I don't like having things kept hidden from me but that didn't seem to bother you, did it?" he responded.
Her mouth snapped shut. Turning away from him, Effie made her way back to the bed. She picked up her book, sitting at the edge of the bed and staring at the covers. Her thumb ghosted over the picture of a toddler on the front cover. Her eyes stung but she willed herself not to cry, not in front of Haymitch. God knows the kind of scathing remarks he'd make if he saw her cry.
"Why are your clothes dirty?" she asked, trying to distract herself.
"Katniss asked if I wanted to go to the woods with her."
She heard what he didn't say – that he went along with Katniss because he didn't want to be in the same room as her. Effie heard the shower running and let out a breath at the few minutes of reprieve she had. She didn't think she could stand another moment of having Haymitch looking at her with contempt.
Effie used the time to think, knowing she only has minutes before Haymitch step out of the shower. She never meant for him to find out in that manner, didn't mean for him to find out at all. It was never her intentions to keep it from him, not out of spite, at least. There was a point in time when she wanted to tell him but there was always something stopping her – a voice whispering in her ear convincing her that it was her pregnancy and that it was none of his concern, not when he hardly care about her.
But of course, she was proven wrong on that account. He had shown so far that he cared, if not so much for her, then at least for the twins. He was capable of caring so much so that the news made him angry. Her sister once told her, that someone capable of so much anger and so much pain also has the capacity to hold so much more love and passion. The same fire that fuel the anger could fuel something else and that was it with Haymitch.
Effie twisted the wedding band around her finger distractedly. She shut her eyes to block out everything else and saw the nursery Haymitch had painted even after she had thrown a fit about the room. She bit down on her fist.
XxX
"I was scared," she began haltingly, staring at her hand while Haymitch paced their bedroom like a caged tiger, hair still damp for his shower. "I was angry. We were – when I told you that I was pregnant, you were mad at me. You blamed me for it as if… as if I had done it on purpose, that I had condemned you. You… you said terrible things to me that day."
Her voice wavered slightly and her hands shook. Effie jammed it under her thighs and sat on it, so he wouldn't see.
"Effie…"
She shook her head to silence him, her lips pursed in determination.
"You wanted to know the truth, didn't you? You wanted to hear it so much. Don't interrupt me then," she told him firmly.
He grunted under his breath but waved his hand for her to continue.
"Do you remember what you said to me that day?" Without waiting for his reply, Effie went on. "You asked if there was anything I'm good at, other than to make myself look pretty."
Haymitch stopped pacing abruptly, throwing her a surprise look. He raked his fingers through his hair.
"I never forgot what you said to me when I told you I was pregnant. I don't because… because it hurts, you know?" Effie told him wistfully. She pulled her hands from under her and her fingers began to fiddle with the bracelet.
She could see him looming over her before he sat next to her on the bed.
"I didn't mean… You shouldn't take it to heart. You know I've always had a terrible –"
"I tried to make myself be a part of this new world," she said, "tried to be a functioning member of society, one that didn't involve sending children to die. I went to work at the medicine factory not because we needed the money but because… I saw it as a way to give back to the society in some small ways. It could never measure up to what I've taken from them, from this district but I had to try."
A tear fell on her palm and Effie curled it into a fist. She could feel his eyes on her; saw how tightly his hand gripped the top of his knee. She felt the small, jerky movements he made as he stretched and retracted his hand. He wanted to comfort her but she knew he didn't know how.
"I tried, Haymitch, and to have you tell me that I could never be good at anything other than being an escort… well, it pains me. But I think you're right," she nodded to herself. "I don't know how to be good at anything else. I don't even know what I'm good at. I can't do anything right by you."
"You're being too hard on yourself," he offered feebly.
Effie snorted and wiped the tears with the back of her hand. "You're just saying that now. I don't know how to be a wife, Haymitch. I don't know what I should do to make you see me, to make you want me. I don't know how to be a mother. I don't have a slightest clue about what I should do with a baby much less two. I'm reading as much as I can but what if that is not enough?"
Haymitch pressed a facial tissue into the palm of her hand. Nodding her thanks, she dabbed her eyes with it.
"When I was told that I have a slightly higher risk of having a miscarriage, I was upset. I didn't know what to do. It was unfair; it wasn't my fault, it wasn't. You know why I didn't tell you? Because I didn't think you'd care since you never wanted a child in the first place."
Next to her, she heard his sharp intake of breath.
"But that wasn't really the reason. I… I didn't want you to have something else to use against me; to mock me and humiliate me even more. I didn't want you to tell me that I am so terribly hopeless that I couldn't even carry the twins safely to full term. I didn't need you to point out to me something else that I'm not good at. I didn't need that."
XxX
Haymitch stared at her. That was the only thing he could do.
He wanted her to shut up. He needed her to. Every word felt like a blow to his guts. But he couldn't. He asked for it and she was giving it to him.
I don't know what I should do to make you see me, to make you want me. His mind went through that phrase in a loop. There was so much to process but that stood out so prominently. She wants this marriage?
He forced himself to listen, quelling the urge to throw a vase or the bedside lamp in frustration. Did she really think of him that severely? That he would mock her and use all of those against her? Had he ever gave her a reason to think that he would?
"I had a thought… that maybe if I had a miscarriage, it would be good for both of us. No child should grow up with a father who doesn't want her."
Her – a girl. That's what she always thought of her unborn children.
"Then I realized that this is my baby and I love her. How could I love someone I've never even met? But I do and she doesn't need you if you don't want her. She has me. Slowly, things change. You changed. I thought you buying me crackers and sitting with me on the bathroom floor when I was sick was just a passing thing. That maybe you felt guilty about the way you acted. But then you came with me to the Capitol, you made sure I could satisfy my cravings. You stopped drinking around me because I couldn't stomach it, you accompanied me to BabyTown with Felix and you even started showing some interest in my pregnancy. By then, I didn't know how to tell you about the risk anymore, Haymitch. I didn't know how to break it to you without making you hate me even more."
"I don't hate you. I find you bothersome, sure, but I don't hate you, sweetheart," he encircled her in his arm and pulled her close. Effie broke down into fresh tears and buried her face on the crook of his neck, her fingers curled around the front of his shirt, clutching on to him desperately. "What happened to you during the Rebellion, Effie? What did they do to you?"
"No," she said, shaking her head vehemently. "I – I don't want to talk about that. Please, don't make me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the risk. I really am and I wished I had told you earlier."
He nodded.
"But this … what you're asking… I can't, Haymitch. Not now."
"It's just a risk," he breathed out as if to assure himself. "Life's full of risk, anyway. You and I both know that after everything. And Dr. Bell seems optimistic so ... We just gotta be careful, right?"
He stood up suddenly, pulling himself away from her and nodded to himself.
"Nothing will happen, not if we're careful," he repeated.
Haymitch retreated into himself. He absentmindedly pulled the covers around Effie, brushed her hair back and turned off the lights. Then he left, closing the door quietly with a click, leaving Effie alone to her own thoughts and him to his.
In case anyone's wondering, I made reference to Chapter 7 in this and as to why Effie referred to her baby as singular because she was talking about the time before she found out they were twins.
Just a small announcement - my exam's starts next week so I probably won't be updating Consortium for the next two weeks. (anyway, i feel like Effie's been pregnant for quite a considerable number of chapters. time to change that! see ya in two weeks!)