Katniss brushed the sweat from her forehead. It was dripping into her eyes making them sting. It's so hot.
Her garden was in an awful condition because of the heat. The lettuce was wilted and the leaves on her tomato plants were sunburned. It never used to be like this.
District 12 had had its hot summers when she was growing up, but nothing like this. The weather's changing, getting more extreme, changing just like everything else.
On days like this, when she and Peeta had been raising Hope and Henry, they'd all hike into the woods to swim in the lake. The cold water had been so refreshing. So invigorating.
I should go to the lake today and take a dip. She stood up, mentally cursing the pain in her sore back and aching knees. Looking toward the house, she scowled at the sight of the old man keeping watch over her. He sat in a chair on the covered front porch.
I'll have to take him with me if I go. He never lets me out of his sight.
The white-haired man untied a bandana from his neck, wiped his forehead, and waved at her. "It's a real scorcher, Katniss. Why don't you come inside and get a cool drink?"
That sounds like a good idea. Less trouble than hiking out to the lake. Dropping her spade onto the ground, she made her way back to the grandiose house in which she lived. It's so much bigger than the other houses in Twelve. Too big for me.
She used to live here with Peeta and the kids. But then the kids grew up and moved out. And Peeta, well that was the mystery. Where has my husband gone?
She missed him of course, but expected he'd be back any day. She blamed the hijacking that happened during the war – why that was over 50 years ago – strange how it seems so fresh in my mind. I can close my eyes and remember it like it happened yesterday. How hard Peeta fought against it. Sometimes he'd cling to the back of a chair to control himself.
But aging isn't kind to brains and over the years, Katniss reasoned, the venom of those tracker jackets had at last exhausted Peeta's mental abilities. It led to his occasional ramblings. Whenever Peeta took off, which seemed to be happening more and more frequently, they - the Capitol government, or District 12 mayor, or someone- sent the old man to keep watch over her. At first Katniss had resented the man for being there. "You don't have to stay with me, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
But the old man only smiled and told him that it was his job to take care of her. He'd taken a vow.
A vow? She'd been drinking tea when he'd mentioned that; she'd almost spit out her beverage in disgust. It always unnerved her when people held her up as some kind of saint because she'd been the Mockingjay.
Even though Katniss wanted to send the old man away, she suspected he might need the money they were paying him. I never had to worry about money after winning The Hunger Games. Others do.
She couldn't begrudge him a paycheck. Besides he treated her well. He even knew how to make her favorite cheese buns.
The old man also kept the house tidy. He slept on the sofa downstairs and it comforted Katniss to know that he'd be there to open the door should Peeta return in the middle of the night while she was sleeping.
She'd last seen Peeta a week ago, no, maybe it was three months ago. At any rate, she hoped he come back soon.
Over the next few weeks, the summer heat faded. The leaves on the trees turned brown. She talked to Hope about Peeta when she came to visit. "Do you know where he is? Has anyone seen him in town?"
Hope glanced at the old man who was sitting in the big armchair on the other side of the room. "Mama, he's right…"
The old man interrupted her. "I've made some pumpkin cookies. Why don't you and your mother come into the kitchen. We'll all have some."
A few minutes later they were at the table eating cookies and drinking tea. In the shared moment of fellowship, Katniss forgot her question about Peeta and began to tell her visitor about her participation in The Hunger Games. "You have no idea what we went through."
Hope's eyes filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks. She wiped her tears away with her hands. "I think you told me this story a thousand times before."
The old man reached across the table for one of Hope's hands and squeezed it.
Noting the old man's comforting gesture to the young woman obviously distraught over the horror of the Games, Katniss couldn't help but be impressed. He's caring.
A young man named Henry came to visit a few days later. He looked so much like Peeta, that for a moment Katniss was sure it was him. She screamed and jumped off the sofa running to him and hugging him tightly. However, the man insisted that he wasn't Peeta. "I'm your son, Henry."
Son? I have a son? "Do you know where Peeta is?" she questioned him.
"Mom, he's right…" Henry began, but the old man interrupted him. "Let your mother be. She'll come to her senses soon enough."
The young man with the silver eyes scowled.
Katniss turned to the old man. "Come to my senses? Don't pamper me. I know Peeta's hijacking has destroyed his brain and caused him to lose his memory. The doctors all said it might happen. I just want to know that he's all right. That's he's in a safe place where no one can hurt him."
Tears appeared in both men's eyes.
The old man stepped forward. "Peeta is fine, Katniss. You don't need to worry about him."
"So, you do know where he is?" she accused the old man.
"I do," he answered. "He asked me to take care of you when he couldn't."
The old man's answer satisfied Katniss. That sounds exactly like something Peeta would do. Put my well-being before his own. "Is he getting help?"
"The best kind of help." The old man exchanged a look with Henry. "Your children are giving all the support he needs."
Katniss beamed. "I'm glad. I have good children, don't I?"
"The very best," the old man agreed.
As the leaves fell from the tree and the air turned cool, Katniss grew to appreciate the old man more and more. He's so considerate. He reminds me of someone I used to know, but who?
One day Katniss noticed a photograph in a silver frame that stood on the tall dresser in her bedroom. Where did this come from?
A smiling couple stared back at her. The woman had long dark hair, the man's hair was fair. They looked happy and in love. Katniss wasn't sure who they were. I used to know so many people. Most of them are dead now. Maybe that couple is dead, too.
When she'd first returned home after the war, Sae had come to her house every day to cook her meals. Now it was the old man's job, although some days Katniss took charge in the kitchen. On those days the old man sat at the table and watched, turning off the water faucet behind her, or turning on the stove's burner so the pot would heat up.
"You spend all your time here," Katniss said to him one day over dinner. "Doesn't your family miss you?"
He shook his head. "Nope. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
Katniss eyebrows rose. "Taking care of me?" It seemed an odd answer. "Are my bodyguard?"
The man grinned. "Some days you could call me that."
One crisp fall day, the old man suggested they go into the woods to pick apples. "I'd like to make a pie."
Katniss was excited. She hadn't been to the woods in such a long time. I used to go there a lot to hunt. Maybe I can get us fresh meat for dinner.
As soon as they exited the meadow and walked past the point where the old fence once stood, Katniss ran ahead of the old man to the log where she hid her bow and arrows. But it was empty.
Her heart raced. Where is it? Has someone found it? Has someone turned me into the Peacekeepers?
She ran back to the old man, nearly knocking him down in her panic. "We have to leave now. Immediately. Someone has found my bow." She was shaking in fear.
The old man reached gently for her arm. "Katniss, your bow is in the closet at home. I saw it yesterday."
Katniss was puzzled. How did it get to the house?
As if he could read her thoughts, the old man answered her question. "After the war ended, people were allowed to hunt in the woods. You brought your bow home for safe keeping."
Was that right? Possibly. It aggravated her that she forgot so many little details lately. Good thing I have the old man to watch out for me.
They made their way to the apple tree. The old man had brought a sack with him. He reached up to pick the fruit. Katniss joined him. After they'd picked all the low-hanging fruit, Katniss strode over to the trunk to climb the tree to reach the higher branches.
"No, Katniss, no," the old man shouted, dropping the sack of fruit. "Don't climb the tree. We have enough apples for several pies." He hurried behind her and put his arms round her waist to stop her.
A strange sensation came over Katniss, as he held her briefly in his arms. Like ripples on a lake when a stone is tossed in it, memories came rushing toward her. She'd been held once by strong, steady arms like his - arms that protected her from danger and calmed all her fears whether imaginary or real.
The old man released her, and Katniss turned to face him.
"What's your name?" she asked. Curious, she'd never wondered what he was called.
The old man bit his lip. His eyes grew teary. "Peeta."
"That's a silly name," Katniss said. "How did you end up with that name."
"My parents were bakers. They named each of their sons after a kind of bread."
"I was named after a plant. Well, Peeta, let's go home and you can bake me a pie."
Peeta picked up the sack of apples from the ground.
Katniss thought he looked despairing. Maybe he doesn't like his name. She reached for his free and hand. She gave him a bright smile to cheer him up.
Now that she knew his name, Katniss began paying closer attention to Peeta. True he was old, but his white hair was wavy, and the lines around his blue eyes crinkled when he smiled. He was also strong. He could lift anything, from heavy sacks of flour to the long sofa that he vacuumed beneath.
And he went out of his way to spoil Katniss – making all her favorite meals, drawing pictures to make her laugh, and running the bathwater to be sure that it was the perfect temperature for her.
What woman wouldn't like that?
She even bragged to the young woman who visited her often. "Peeta is so wonderful. I hope he stays here with me forever."
"I'm so glad you haven't forgotten Dad," Hope said.
"Dad?" Katniss raised her eyebrows. Could Peeta be the girl's father? I wonder who her mother is?
"Peeta is my father," said the young woman.
"He's a very lucky man then," Katniss said. "Lucky to have such a pretty daughter."
The girl choked back her answer, "I'm the lucky one to have such a great father."
The winter was bitter. A heavy snowfall left two-foot drifts around District 12 for weeks. Peeta added a heavy quilt to Katniss' bed, but still, she couldn't get warm. One evening as he helped her upstairs to dress for sleep, she reached for his hand.
"Stay with me tonight. In my bed."
Peeta's eyebrows rose. "Are you certain?"
"I'm cold and I need a big bear of a man to keep me warm."
Peeta rubbed his belly. "I'm eating too much. I guess I'm looking more like a bear every day."
He helped Katniss put on her nightgown and pulled back the quilt for her. Then, he stripped down to his underclothes and joined her under the heavy quilt. He lay on his side facing her. Katniss turned her body away from him. Peeta wrapped an arm around her waist.
Katniss was comfortable. This feels right. Like this is how it's supposed to be at night.
When Peeta nuzzled her neck, she sighed and drifted off to sleep content in the warmth created by both their bodies.
She woke up the next morning to an empty bed and the smell of baking bread. She had a delicious sense of happiness about her. I must have had a wonderful dream. She rolled over to smile in her pillow when she caught another scent that lingered on the bed linen, a faint smell of cinnamon and dill.
Did someone sleep in my bed with me last night? A flutter started low in her belly. I never expected to take a lover.
A second thought followed. He must be making me breakfast. What a catch.
Katniss climbed out of bed, unbraiding her hair as she walked into bathroom. Spread across her shoulders, her hair seemed to sparkle in the reflection that appeared in the mirror. I look like a princess from a story of old. Feeling especially pretty, she walked to her closet to find something fancy to wear. There's so much here.
She reached for a dress covered in thin plastic. Tearing off the covering, she pulled it from the closet, setting it on her unmade bed. The dress was floor-length, white, and covered with white sequins and lace.
It's beautiful.
Katniss stripped and put it on. She couldn't reach her hands around to button the back of it; but that didn't matter.
"Katniss, breakfast is ready," a shout came from downstairs.
"I'll be right there," she called out as she carefully made her way down to the floor below. It's good I didn't put on heels. I might have fallen on the stairs.
A loud gasp sounded when she reached the bottom step. Peeta stood in front of her in his underclothes, his mouth agape.
He looked her up and down curiously. "You look beautiful," he finally said.
"Thank you." Katniss looked down at the skirt where the sequins shimmered in the morning light. "I think the sparkles on the dress match my hair."
"They do." Peeta reached for her arm, linking it through his own. "Let's get you some breakfast."
Katniss allowed him to lead her to the kitchen table. He pulled out her chair as she sat down to an egg sandwich. Steam arose from a nearby cup of hot chocolate.
Katniss reached for the chocolate first and took a sip. Delicious.
The couple ate slowly and silently. About halfway through the meal, Peeta asked, "What would you like to do today?"
"Hunt or work in the garden," Katniss said.
Peeta pointed to the window beyond the table where high drifts of snow still covered the ground. "The snow hasn't melted yet. You'll have to think of something to do inside."
Inside? Katniss frowned. "I don't know," she mumbled.
"I could start a fire in the fireplace," Peeta suggested. "We could have a lazy day and read in front of the fire."
"I don't want to read."
"How about I sketch you then? You haven't gotten dressed up like this in a long while."
Katniss blushed and caught Peeta's eyes. "I haven't; have I?"
"Maybe I should get dressed up, too. Why don't you come upstairs with me after we're done eating and help me pick out something to wear."
"Do you have clothes at my house?"
"I'll look in the closet," Peeta said. "Maybe I can find something."
He buttoned up the back of her dress, and then helped her upstairs to be sure she didn't trip over her long skirt. Together, they picked out a dark suit for Peeta to wear. He put it on, leaving the tie off from the white shirt beneath the suit. Like Katniss, he kept his feet bare.
"You clean up real well," Katniss commented.
Peeta chuckled. He led her downstairs and spread a blanket in front of the fireplace.
Katniss watched as he started a fire. "You're a whiz at that."
"I've had lots of experience."
He pulled a sketchbook and pencil from a nearby shelf. "Sit back and let me draw you."
Katniss plopped down on the blanket and made a pouty face, then burst into laughter. "Like this," she giggled.
"You look like one of those models in the magazine ads. Just a simple smile will do."
Katniss smiled briefly, before getting distracted by the fire. The flames dance so prettily. But seconds later fear came over her. She scooted across the blanket away from the fireplace.
"Are you all right?" Peeta asked, looking up from his sketchbook.
"I don't want to get too close. I don't want to catch on fire."
Peeta set down the book and pencil. His face was somber. "I won't let the fire touch you Katniss. I'll keep you safe. Do you want to sit on the sofa instead of the floor?"
"Yes."
Peeta stood up first and then helped Katniss to a standing position. He led her the sofa which stood ten feet back from the fireplace. They both sat down. "Is this better?"
Katniss nodded continuing to stare into the flames. There's something so mesmerizing about them. Something stirred within her, a thought about a girl and boy who rode in a chariot while on fire. That's ridiculous. No one could be on fire and live.
Peeta got up from the couch and picked up his sketch pad and pencil and returned to sit next to Katniss. "Now you can pose again."
Katniss yawned. "I'm tired."
"Why don't you lay back and rest, then. I'll sketch you while you sleep. Your face looks relaxed when you sleep."
"You'll keep the fire away?" A worried tone crept into her voice. The flames won't come out this far, will they?
"You'll be fine, Katniss. I'll be right here."
She closed her eyes in the peaceful room and fell into a deep slumber. She dreamed of a young girl jumping from tree to tree almost as if she could fly. I want to try that. Katniss stood atop a tree limb and jumped. But instead of alighting on a neighboring limb, she fell through the air and landed in a pile of snow.
She shifted in her sleep as her dream changed. She was in the woods with her bow and shot a deer. Under the cover of dark, Gale helped her drag it back to town. She smiled as she counted her share of the coins the butcher gave them for the meat.
Mom and Prim will be so happy. More dreams followed. Mostly happy, a few sad. The terror she felt when her daughter became a mother for the first time. The pleasure of her son taking over the bakery. And her husband, Peeta. The anchor that held her small family together. Funny that the old man has the same name. But maybe it's because that name is synonymous for everything that is kind and caring and peaceful in the world.
Her eyes flickered open.
"You must have had pleasant dreams," Peeta said. "You've been smiling in your sleep for the last hour. Look I drew a picture of you." He turned the sketch pad toward her.
Katniss studied the woman in the picture. Even in her sleep when a face is normally smoothed out, the woman still had lines around her eyes. There were creases along the side of her mouth. Her neck was wrinkled.
"That's not me. That's a picture of a wrinkled old lady."
Peeta's lips pursed as if he were holding back a smile. "We're not getting any younger Katniss."
"Maybe you're not. Your hair is white."
Peeta reached for a strand of her silver locks and rubbed them between his fingers. He let go of them and caught her eyes. "You'll always be young to me, Katniss."
"I am young," she insisted. "Only yesterday Gale and I took down a deer and dragged it to Rooba. She gave us 20 coins for it."
Peeta's lips formed into a narrow line. "It seems like only yesterday, doesn't it."
"It was yesterday," Katniss insisted. A sly smile appeared on her face. "You're jealous of him, aren't you?"
"Gale? You're right. I was once. But that was a long time ago." Changing the subject, he asked if she were hungry.
She nodded.
"Sit here, I'll get us a snack."
She watched as he left and went into the kitchen. She fiddled with her loose hair and began to braid it. When she was finished, she looked down at the beading on the bodice of her dress. If she twisted her body, it shimmered causing flashes of light to fall upon the wall. It's so pretty.
Peeta returned with a tray bearing two rolls, some cheese, and a few pieces of sliced apple. He set the tray on the coffee table. He reached for a roll and held it out to her.
Katniss' eyes opened wide. "I've done this before, haven't I?"
"You've eaten thousands of my rolls over the years," he agreed.
"No, there's something special about this bread. It needs to go into the fire."
"Toasted?" Peeta's mouth fell open.
"Yes, we're supposed to toast the bread and feed it to each other."
"If you want a toasting, let's do it," Peeta said, a grin slowing appearing. His voice lowered. "I'd do one every day if you'd allow it."
He picked up the plate and carried it to the fire. Next to the fireplace was a long stick with a forked end. He put one roll onto it, moved the fireplace screen and put it into the flame. When the roll was browned, he pulled it off the stick and set it on the plate. He put the second roll onto the stick, but before he could he put it in the flames, Katniss called out.
"I'm supposed to toast the piece for you, Peeta. Did you forget?" She got off the sofa and walked toward him.
Peeta handed her the stick and Katniss stretched it into the flame. Once the edges were brown, she pulled it back from the fire. Peeta took it off the forked end and placed it on the plate where the other roll sat.
"Do you want to sit on the couch to do this?" Peeta asked.
Katniss shook her head. They both dropped onto the floor in front of the fireplace. Katniss' skirt spread out around her encasing her in a white fortress. Peeta sat at the edge of her skirt holding the plate and staring at her.
He seems confused, like he doesn't know what to do next. I better show him how it goes.
"Now we feed the roll we toasted to each other," Katniss explained. She reached for the bread she had browned and held it out to him. "I give you this bread, as a symbol of my body. I pledge to you my life, my fortune, and my sacred honor. Take and eat." She pushed the roll toward his lips, and then into his mouth as he it opened wide.
After he repeated the same vow in return, Katniss reached for his hands. "Peeta Mellark, I'm so glad to be married to you. You gave me a reason to fight for my life in The Hunger Games. You've gave me many years of happiness afterward and two beautiful children. You've made my life worth living. I love you."
Tears filled in Peeta's eyes as he bit his lower lip. "Oh Katniss, I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever."
"I wish I could, too," she replied. "But life doesn't work that way, does it?"
Peeta shook his head. "You're right, it doesn't. So, let's be happy while we can."
Katniss changed positions, laying her head in his lap. He stroked her hair for a long while as they talked about their lives, and their children, and wondered when the snow would melt.
After a long while, Katniss closed her eyes and fell asleep. When she awoke from her nap, she was on the sofa. Her skin itched all over. Looking down she saw that she was wearing a fancy white dress. Why?
She yawned and sat up. The scent of roasted turkey filled the air. An old man in a dark suit walked into the room. "Good, you're awake now. I made us an early dinner."
Katniss looked at him curiously, a nagging thought running through her mind. "What's your name again?"
A momentary flash of sadness came over his countenance; but it lasted only second or two. Then, he smiled at her. "My name is Peeta. I'm your husband."