The next years of our lives are full of the joy our youths lost. It takes Peeta and me years to get pregnant, but I revel in our time together, just the two of us. When we finally do conceive, the elation is incomparable, but the pregnancy is not easy for me. I'm terrified every time I feel the baby move. I wake up in fits at night. But Peeta is there to comfort me, soothe me, tell me it's alright. He talks to my stomach. I sing. When Lily finally arrives, the sight of Peeta holding her in his arms nearly makes my heart burst.
The bakery is always busy. Peeta thrives in the bustle of the shop. Lily is a constant at his feet, tripping him up in the beautiful way only a daughter can fluster her dad. He sits her on the counter and paints a flower on her cheek in food coloring. She giggles. She digs with me in my garden, planting seeds and getting dirt under her nails. I send her back to the bakery filthy, and Peeta runs her tiny hands under the sink. She is a perfect little girl.
It took us so long to conceive Lily that Reed comes as a surprise.
We are lying in our bed, Lily passed out between us after a long day of digging herbs in the Meadow. She starts school in a year. I know she will learn about the Games, and the War, and the role her parents played in freeing Panem. But for now, I want to keep her innocent. For just a little longer, she can be my little girl, with the straw-colored hair and stone gray eyes.
"Do you think Lily would want a brother or sister?" I ask Peeta. He smiles at me sheepishly, and pulls our daughter in close. He's sure she was our little miracle, and he doesn't dare hope for more.
"She'd love that, Katniss, but she loves our family just as we are, too," he replies. "Plus, she spends enough time chasing the Hawthorne boy around." That boy is nothing but trouble. He's 7. Passionate, like his parents. Temperamental, like his parents. Mischievous, like his parents. But oh so full of love. He loves with all his heart, like his parents.
"Did I ever tell you why I wanted to name her Lily?" I ask.
"No," he says, and rolls on his side. We cocoon our daughter between us.
"It's what Prim named her doll. The one I traded for at the Hob. She told me she'd name her daughter Lily, one day." My eyes sting with tears, but they are happy ones. Remembering Prim hurts, but it makes her feel alive still, all these years later. Peeta weaves his fingers in mine and kisses the back of my hand.
"So I have no idea what to name this one," I say.
"What?" His gaze flickers up to mine in realization. "WHAT?!" He shoots up, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Peeta leaps from the bed and lifts me in his arms. He spins me around in the air and kisses me until I can't breathe. Lily is sitting on our bed, rubbing the slumber from her eyes and looking at us with confusion. She doesn't know what is going on, but she knows whatever it is, it's happy a moment.
Reed is so like his sister, and yet in many ways very different. He spends hours with me in the woods hunting. He walks in silence. He has a knack for snares, and idolizes his Uncle Gale. He has dark hair, and sparkling blue eyes. He is smart as can be. He and his dad play chess late into the evening, and soon he's beating Haymitch too. He paints. Sometimes I lose my boys for a whole day, and when I sneak over to their studio in Peeta's old house, I see he's filled canvasses with brilliant gold leaves and animals he's seen in the woods with me.
Delly has a gaggle of children. Her first pregnancy was triplets. Our family grows and love swells. Haymitch and Effie spoil them all rotten. Whenever we aren't looking, they are sneaking the kids sweets or pushing them on the tire swing Haymitch hung on a tree in his yard. Haymitch raises geese. They do not get along with Effie, but they make him happy, so she lets it be. One time, Effie sends Lily home in full make-up. She's 5.
Johanna and Gale calm down a bit, but their passion for each other never ebbs.
Delly and Skyler fill their farm with fruit and vegetables. They spend their weekends in the Market. Delly thrives in her social life.
Effie and Haymitch get on each other's nerves and love every minute of it. They tease and bicker, and behind closed doors they love each other fiercely.
Peeta still has flashbacks. He clings to the backs of chairs and locks every muscle in his body. He shakes when he comes down. But I can pull him back. And so now, can Lily. I still have nightmares. I thrash and scream at night. But Reed will curl into me, and I find my breath. I'll explain to them someday.
When we are playing, the four of us in the Meadow, I don't think of it as a graveyard. I think of it as a place of rebirth. And when I see a dandelion burst its happy, yellow face in between the blades of grass, I remember that things will be okay. We all lie on our backs, heads in the center, legs spread out like a starburst. Our eight hands clasp in a circle and we stare up at the sky. We take turns telling each other good things we've seen that day. Acts of kindness.
Peeta giving a small boy a cupcake on his birthday. Peeta remembers all the children in the district's birthdays.
Delly tying Lily's shoe.
Sae delivering a meal to a new mother.
Thom pulling a coin from behind Reed's ear.
Daddy kissing Mommy when he thinks no one is looking.
It's a game. Repetitive. Tedious. But there are worse games to play.