No one is interested in eating Delly's salad. In fact, everyone gets up from the table and heads for their respective bedrooms, leaving Henry, Peeta and me to dine alone.

After our fill of greens, Henry carries a pink box to the table. He opens the lid and the scent of sugar wafts through the air as he reveals a beautifully decorated cake with a woodsy theme. Three pinecones made from chocolate fondant icing sit beside the message, Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad.

"You did a good job, Peet," Henry says. "We might as well dig in. I hate to see a tasty cake go to waste." He cuts three generous slices eliminating the words Happy Anniversary.

It seems weird to be eating this celebratory cake given the circumstances, but I'm still hungry. I need more than salad for dinner. Anyway Henry doesn't seem to mind, and without his memory Peeta isn't bothered that his parents have called it quits.

Peeta takes a bite. "I made this? Wow, it tastes good, too."

"You're very talented." I run my hand along his arm to let him know how proud I am of him. I have a brilliant husband.

"You are son," his dad agrees.

"But what if my memory doesn't return?" Peeta asks his father. "How can I be a baker?"

"Did the doctor say it was a permanent loss?"

Peeta rubs the back of his neck. "I don't remember."

"My doctor said I should see a neurologist if I'm not back to normal in a week or two," I volunteer.

"That's good advice," Henry says. "I'm sure it will work out fine for both of you."

Henry is the first to finish. He carries his plate and fork to the sink, and puts the boxed cake back into the refrigerator. "How did you two meet?" he asks when he returns to the table.

"Not sure," Peeta says. "But we think Katniss might have come to the bakery to purchase cheese buns."

"I don't recall seeing you in any of our shops lately," Henry tells me. "But then I'm all over the place these days. Or stuck in the back dealing with inventory and accounting. Even Greta has no interaction with customers any more, instead she does, well did, all the hiring and human resources stuff."

Henry buses the table after Peeta and I finish eating. He talks as he hand washes the dishes. "It wasn't like this when we started. I baked; Greta ran the front counter. Everything was simple. We had a real life. We'd close down for a week in summer and go camping. Remember, Peetie?"

"Nope"

I remember Phyl's comment about how he and Fern almost broke up because of overwork. I guess more money meant more work, not more happiness.

"Promise me that you two will make every effort to make time for yourselves," Henry warns us when he returns to the table. "Don't drift apart because of work."

My eyes catch Peeta's. "We won't," he says, reaching for my hand.

I hope I never forget to have fun with Peeta.

Rye was right about having to make your own entertainment at the cabin. Henry opens a cupboard in the living room to show us a stack of books, board games, and puzzles. Henry pulls out a mystery novel. Peeta pulls out a puzzle.

"Do you like puzzles, Katniss?" my husband asks.

"I think I'm living in one."

Peeta chuckles. "I know what you mean. But at least we know what this one is supposed to look like when it's done. He holds up a box that shows a photo of a garden full of flowers. "It only has five hundred pieces."

"Is that all?" I tease.

I sit beside him at the dining table as we set aside all the pieces with straight edges.

After ten minutes Henry sets down his book. "Can I help, too? I'm having trouble concentrating."

"Sure," I say.

Henry grabs some pieces and begins sorting them by color. "Greta and I used to work together on projects when we first married." He launches into a story about how they painted the inside of the first bakery a soft peach color and decorated it with cookie jars they brought at thrift stores.

Peeta stares off into space while his father speaks. A look of excitement grows on his face. "Was there a jar that looked like a baker? The base was the baker's head and his large hat was the top?"

"I used to hide snickerdoodles in it for you boys," Henry says.

Peeta turns to me, a gleeful look on his face. "Katniss, I remember that cookie jar."

"Lucky you," I reply. If only I could remember Peeta. From the corner of my eye, I spy on him as he works, noting the look of concentration on his face, the set of his mouth and his long eyelashes. How do they not get tangled up when he blinks?

Peeta asks his father more questions about his childhood, which Henry readily answers. My husband's serious expression softens and he begins to smile. Is his memory returning?

We stay up late. I yawn a couple of times. "You two should probably turn in," Henry suggests. We bid Henry goodnight and go upstairs.

I head for the bathroom first. I may have enjoyed our kiss very much, but I'm uncomfortable about sharing a bed with Peeta. You're married, I remind myself. I can't remember, though, I argue back. I guess I'm shy around men. After re-braiding my hair, I return to our room.

Peeta sits on the bed lost in thought. He startles when he sees me. "We should talk," he says.

From the nervous look on his face, it's clear to me he's concerned about the sleeping arrangements, too. Before we can discuss it, a knock sounds on the door.

I open it wide to find Henry on the other side. "I'm sorry I didn't think this through at all but I have no place to sleep tonight. I've been sleeping in the guest room at home the last few days and was planning to bunk with Peeta while we were here…."

"And then Rye told you Peeta was bringing me along," I answer for him.

He nods. "I'd sleep on the sofa downstairs, but I have this back problem…I know this is asking a lot Katniss, but would you stay with Greta tonight? I feel bad for her after the way the kids reacted."

Poor Henry. He still cares for his wife. It would help both of us if we switch sleeping partners tonight. I turn to Peeta. He looks as relieved as I feel. He did say that if we got physical he'd feel as if he were taking advantage of me. What a gentleman my husband is to wait until I can remember him.

Peeta gets off the bed. "Do you mind?" He looks apologetic.

I shake my head. Peeta gives me a goodnight hug.

Henry points toward the room at the end of the hall. "Thanks. I owe you both."

I tap lightly on Greta's door.

"Go away, Henry," a voice calls from inside.

I open the door a crack. "It's Katniss. Henry is going to bunk with Peeta. Would it be all right if I stay with you?"

My mother-in-law sits in bed reading a paperback. She closes it immediately and shoves it under her pillow. I wonder if she'll tell me to go downstairs and sleep on one of the couches. Instead she waves me into the room. Henry's right. She needs a friend after that scene downstairs. This might be a good way for us to bond.

"Where are your pajamas?"

"Rye brought us straight from the hospital."

"I'll loan you something." She gets out of bed and pulls a flannel nightgown out of the dresser. I change in the ensuite bathroom. The whole situation is awkward since my first impressions of the woman haven't been favorable, but I remind myself that she's had a terrible day. I'd like for us to be friends if that's possible.

As soon as I climb into bed, she asks, "How did you meet Peeta?"

I plump up my pillow and pull the coverlet over me. "I can't remember because of the amnesia, but we think it might have been over cheese buns."

"Oh, right, amnesia." She purses her lips like she doesn't believe me. "Well just remember this, it hurt my feelings that I wasn't invited to my own son's wedding. Especially when I've been urging him for years to settle down."

Why didn't we tell our families? "I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I don't think we invited my mother and sister either. They never mentioned Peeta to me when I saw them at the hospital this morning."

"Hmm. Tell me about your family."

"My sister is a doctor, and my mother is a nurse."

"Do you work in the medical profession, too?"

"I don't know."

"What about your father?"

I shake my head as a feeling of sadness floods over me. Am I remembering something?

"Seems like you don't know much of anything. How can you even be sure you're married to my son?"

I connected to him immediately. "Rye told us."

Greta starts to laugh. Soon her eyes are watering. All the while I feel myself growing angry.

She wipes her cheeks with the palms of her hands. "Oh honey, you have a lot to learn. Rye's not reliable."

Infuriated, I rest my hand on my stomach. How dare she doubt that Peeta and I are wed. "I might be having Peeta's baby."

Greta's eyebrows go up. "I knew it. But I'm not upset. In fact, it would be good news."

"Well, I'm not exactly certain," I hedge.

"Of course you're pregnant. Why else would Peeta suddenly marry someone none of us know? Maybe he fed you cheese buns, after." She gives me a knowing wink.

Is she calling me promiscuous? "I'm not that kind of person."

"You, yourself, said you can't remember. Being a grandmother would be something for me to look forward to. I'm going to have a lot of free time on my hands now."

To interfere with the raising of my child? Oh, no. "Henry mentioned you did all the hiring."

"It's been a nightmare," Greta says. "I never wanted any of it, but Henry was determined to expand the business, to leave something for the boys. Instead it's stretched us to the breaking point."

"He does seem broken," I admit.

"I can't stay married to a man who's all work and no play." Greta pulls the book out from under her pillow and tosses it onto the nightstand.

I catch sight of the cover. It features a woman entwined in a man's arms. Interesting choice of reading.

"I'm going to turn off the light now," she says. Once it's dark, she turns her back to me. Greta's breathing soon steadies.

Sugared up on cake, I lie awake and try to remember something - anything. Eventually a dreamless sleep takes over until I am roused by a bullhorn.

"Surround the house. Keep your guns drawn."

After a minute a loud crash sounds. Did someone kick in the front door?