Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.

Family Tradition

AN: So I wrote this way back in the fall and found it while I was avoiding real work. Not great, I'll admit, but I like embarrassing Gale with Rory and his granddad, so...yeah. Enjoy.

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December, Junior Year

Gale shields his face with his hand and tries not to hear what Pawpaw is asking Madge. Something horrible, he's sure of it.

It does him no good though, Pawpaw is so hard of hearing that he practically yells everything.

"Took you to Sae's place, huh?" Pawpaw chuckles. "Why did you say yes? If I'd done that with Harper she'd've knocked my teeth out."

As Gale makes a groaning noise and pokes his brocholli and cheese cassarole, Madge laughs lightly beside him. Maybe she realizes his granddad is completely addled old man. She has an infinite amount of patience, afterall, she tolerates Haymitch Abernathy. Crazy and annoying is nothing new to her.

"It was really nice," she tells him. Gale feels her give his knee a squeeze and he tries to keep his poker face intact. "I liked it."

"I think she felt sorry for him," Rory pipes in, as though he'd been a part of the conversation. Which he hadn't. "I mean, that's desperation in the flesh right there."

Pawpaw's bushy gray eyebrows bunch together in thought. Then he nods. "Might be on to something there."

Gale shoots them both a filthy look. Any hope Rory had of getting help with his science project when they get home just went out the window.

"Oh, of course she said yes," Meemaw says as she comes in, balancing a bowl of rolls on her hip and a pitcher of tea in her other hand. "Gale's just too cute to tell no. Just look at that face. If he'd just shave a bit he'd be on the cover of a magazine."

Just as Gale feels his face start to warm, his Pawpaw adds, "The ole Hawthorne charm." He nudges Madge. "It's what won Harper over."

Gale rubs his eyes. Pawpaw needs to let that lie die. It's nothing more than a fabrication of his age addled mind.

This is why he'd been reluctant to bring Madge to his grandparents' place for dinner. The older they get, the more embarrassing they get. It's like they've stopped thinking about what nonsense comes out of their mouths. It paints a bleak picture of what he has to look forward to with his own parents. Only his parents' health is better. They're going to be ten times worse. Harder to catch and twice as hard to keep quiet.

"But, pumpkin," his Meemaw had prodded him, giving him her most pathetic look. "I'm making my famous broccoli casserole. And we never get to see you anymore..."

If pouring on guilt were an Olympic sport, Gale is pretty sure his Meemaw would be a record holder for winning gold medals. She doesn't even try to do it anymore, it's like breathing for her.

"I'll ask her," Gale had muttered, rubbing his neck as he wracked his mind for how he was going to get out of it. On top of everything else, he hates that casserole.

"Oh good!" She'd almost shouted. "I'll make Ash get the leaf out of the barn."

At the time Gale hadn't understood why one extra person warranted making the table bigger, but a few days later, as he'd helped his dad crawl up in the top of the barn and search for the leaf, he found out.

"Olive called," his dad had said. No further explanation needed.

Gale hadn't even tried to keep from rolling his eyes.

His Aunt Olive was the flakiest person Gale had ever had the misfortune to know. She'd run off when she'd been in high school and shown up a few years later with a baby before vanishing again. Every few years she makes a phone call to her mother, gets everyone in an uproar about coming home, then doesn't show. Gale could set his watch by it.

The prospect of his Aunt, once again, disappointing his Meemaw, had made it glaringly clear to Gale that balking on his promise to ask Madge to have dinner with his nutty grandparents and his family, was out of the question.

Glancing over he sees Madge's puzzled expression. She's probably wondering if this so-called 'Hawthorne charm' had somehow skipped a generation, because her boyfriend clearly hadn't inherited any of it, and neither had Rory. Vick is still an unknown, but the odds aren't looking too good.

"Oh, Silas," Meemaw chuckles and swats at him. She gives Madge a squinty, bright grin. "Did you bring any pictures from prom?"

Madge, apparently having, blessedly, forgotten those damn pictures, smiles as Meemaw plops into the seat across from her, between Rory and Vick. Meemaw pinches Rory's cheek, causing his face to darken when he sees Madge fighting off a laugh at his expense.

"I showed you the pictures, Meemaw," Gale reminds her, hoping to distract her from Madge, before taking a forkful of broccoli and rice to his mouth. "Remember?"

"He showed them to me on his phone," Meemaw reminds him, dismissively.

"That's how kids take pictures these days, mom," Gale's dad tells her...again.

"But you can't frame a phone," she points out, shooting Madge frown. "You understand, don't you dear?"

Madge coughs into her ice tea. "Oh, of course." She nods. "I'll bring them next time."

The smile that lights Meemaw's face could power several small towns. Madge has just made the fatal mistake of implicitly agreeing to visit again. Rookie mistake.

"That would be wonderful!"

Making a mental note to tell Madge that she's just bought herself an invite, probably to brunch or something equally fictitious, Gale gives her a strained smile.

Rory must see it, because he leans back in his seat and catches Vick's eye before batting his eyelashes in what he must think is a mockingly come hither way. Gale tries to kick him under the table, but he's too far away and only ends up hitting the middle leg with the toe of his boot. It makes a loud noise and his mother gives him a concerned look as he grimaces.

"You work in Herschel's shop?" Pawpaw ask.

Madge nods and takes another drink of her tea.

"Ash and I tried to come in a while back," he tells her before shooting Gale a glare. "Someone wouldn't let me though."

"We were gonna get ice cream," Gale's dad tells her.

"This one," Pawpaw jabs a finger at Gale, "seemed to think we we're going to embarrass him."

"Can't imagine why?" Gale mutters.

"You should've seen him," Pawpaw carries on, ignoring the dirty look Gale is giving him. "Kept messing with his hair. I thought he was gonna pull out some binaca."

Face burning, Gale shovels more casserole in his mouth.

"What's binaca?" Vick asks.

"It's a breath freshener," Gale hears his mom explain. "It's not really used anymore."

"Why would Gale need breath freshener, momma?" Posy asks as she tries and fails to shove half her roll into her mouth.

As his mother tries to dislodge most of the roll from Posy's mouth, Rory seizes the opportunity to enlighten her in his own unique way.

"'Cause he eats everything, Pose," he begins. "His breath is like a trash bag full of onions."

Choking on his broccoli, Gale fixes Rory in a deadly glare. He's dead. Gale doesn't care if he has to join his Uncle Levi, living in a travel trailer in the middle of the woods, avoiding the long arm of the law, it will be justifiable homicide.

"Madge must like onions them," Vick mutters, more to himself than anyone else, but his granddad hears and dissolves into a mess of wheezing laughter and coughs.

"That's the 'Charm' at work, boy!" He beams at Gale. "It's a family tradition."

Gale groans and covers his face.

Even if it is a family tradition, he hopes it's one his own dad lets go of. Maybe they can replace it with a new tradition. One that involves Rory and Pawpaw never speaking in front of anyone, possibly ever again.

That's a tradition Gale can get behind.