Today is the day. Peeta and I are going to see his family – I am taking my time packing because I'm really nervous about it. I've heard great things about his dad and his brothers Liam and Micha; it's his mom I'm worried about.
"Katniss, are you ok?" Peeta asks his brow furrowed. I just nod and continue to throw my things in my bag. "Hey," Peeta murmurs grabbing my arm and pulling me to him. "You don't have to go if you don't want to."
"No, Peeta, of course I want to go." My hand rests at the back of his neck. "I . . . I'm just nervous a-about meeting everyone." I can't look at him. I'm embarrassed, he didn't act like this when we went to see my family.
He holds my face in his hands as he says, "There is no way they won't love you." He says it so sincerely that I almost believe him. A small smile spreads across my face and he presses his own smile against mine. "I love you so much. And that's all that really matters anyway."
"You're right, I'll be ready in ten minutes." I throw the rest of my stuff in my bag and do a quick check around my miniscule apartment ensuring I don't forget anything. I tell Peeta I'm ready, he loads up his Jeep Cherokee and we head on our way.
About an hour down the road we stop so I can pee and get some snacks. We get back on the road – I'm crunching on a chocolate covered pretzel when I decide to ask Peeta a big question that I've been thinking about for a while. "Peeta," I start.
"Yes, darling?"
"I was wondering if maybe you would want to move in with me? I know my place is small but we can make it work. And you're already there all the time anyway…"
"Really? You want me to move in?"
"Yes? Is that bad?"
"No, no, of course not. I would love to actually. Is it gonna be ok with Haymitch?"
"Um. I hadn't thought about that actually. But, uh, I don't see why he wouldn't be ok with it; he likes you. More than he likes me probably."
Peeta chuckles. "Alright then, but you should but you should probably talk to him when we get back, just to make sure."
"Ok I will." I smile at him. He gives me that crooked grin I love so much.
Peeta's house looks like it could fit three of mine inside it. It is large and brick with great white columns. I immediately feel insecure again and tug at the sleeves of my hoodie, trying to look as neat as possible.
"They'll love you ok?" Peeta reassures me. I nod at him. As we're unloading the car two guys come out of the house to meet us. They look close to Peeta's age – they must be Liam and Micha.
"Hey guys! How's it going?" Peeta asks throwing his arms around his brothers.
"It's going." The oldest looking one says, he sounds exhausted. Great. That's reassuring.
"It's good to see you bro," the other says.
"Yeah, you too. Guys, this is Katniss. Katniss, this is Liam and Micha." Peeta says pointing first at the older looking one and then the younger one.
"Nice to meet you." I say shyly.
Micha gives me a hug so big that he lifts me off the ground, "You too sweetheart."
"Oh, fuck."
"Micha, don't kill her," Liam admonishes.
"Maybe it's not nice to meet you," I say when puts me back down.
The Mellark boys laugh at me before picking up our bags and heading inside. Inside, the foyer is tiled with marble and leads to a large marble staircase and a short hallway. I can't tell where the hallway leads to.
"Let me show where you'll be staying before you get a tour of the place," Liam states. I nod and follow him up the stairs. He opens the first door on the right to a room almost the size of my apartment. It's complete with a walk in closet and its own full bathroom.
"Holy shit," I whisper.
"Yeah, it's excessive," Liam rolls his eyes. He sets my bag on the king sized bed and asks, "tour?"
"Sure." I shrug my shoulders and pull on my sleeves.
He leads me out of the room and points further down the hall, "Our rooms are down there, Peeta's is the one directly across the hall here." I nod. Liam turns and heads back down the staircase. I see the same broadness of Peeta's shoulders in Liam's but they don't have the same lean muscle that Peeta has. It must have been a while since he has thrown a bag of flour around. He shows me into the room to the left of the stairs – in it is a large mahogany desk and not much else. It feels very cold, like an institution disguised as a home. "This is where I work," Liam says.
"Oh, that's nice," I say, my voice sounds small. "What, um, what exactly do you do?"
"I balance the books for my dad's bakery."
"Oh! Well that is nice then." A small smile crosses my lips, I was right, he hasn't thrown flour around in a while.
Liam chuckles, "Yeah. Yeah, it is. I mostly get to work my own hours, so it's pretty cool."
"Sweet."
I follow him back out of the room. Directly across from the office is a formal dining room with a large banquet table. I don't know how I missed that when I came in. As we walk through the dining room something in the china cabinet catches me eye. Beautiful hand painted plates. They are unlike anything I've ever seen, the way the colors blend together, the way you can feel the brush strokes but not really see them, the way the flowers stand out but also blend in with the background. They are new but familiar. Peeta must have painted these. I turn to Liam, "Did Peeta…?"
"Yeah, he did. It was his senior art project in high school."
"They're beautiful." I turn back to the plates again. I want to memorize the plates, to burn their image into my brain.
I hear murmuring from a nearby room. "Alright, I've kept you from Peeta long enough, let's go find him," Liam says a little louder than necessary. We walk around the corner and find ourselves in the kitchen. Peeta is leaning against the counter and Micha is sitting on the counter across from him. Peeta looks anxious, but he's trying to hide it from me. "Did you enjoy your tour?"
"Meh. I think my apartment is a bit nicer."
Peeta grins, "Yeah, I think you're right." He walks over to me and wraps his strong arms around my waist. I press my forehead to his shoulder. I'm tired, the drive here and meeting his brothers has worn me out.
"You wanna see the backyard?" Peeta whispers in my ear.
I nod and reluctantly pull myself away from his shoulder. He takes my hand and I follow him outside.
The backyard is just as breathtaking as the house itself. More so actually. It's like an oasis. There is a pool and lush green grass and a flower garden and a wooden swing hanging from an old white oak tree in the far corner.
Peeta and I walk through the yard slowly, hand in hand, making our way to the swing. We sit there quietly, taking in the midafternoon sun. it's mild, not quite cold enough to make me shiver but not quite warm enough to push the sleeves up on my hoodie. "Peeta," I look up at him, "what's wrong? What are you worried about?"
He takes a deep breath, "My parents are getting divorced."
"What? Oh Peeta, I'm sorry."
"I'm not really upset about the divorce," he runs his hand through his golden hair, "I'm upset about the timing. They knew we were coming, that you were coming. I could've happened years ago, or it could've waited another week."
"Don't worry about me Peeta, I'll be fine. This is your family, if you want me to leave so your family can figure this out –"
"No, Katniss. I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay with me. Please?"
"Always." I say it without thinking. If Peeta want me to stay with him, then of course I will. He stayed with me that first night he came over, 'Always' he said when I asked him. So it only makes sense for me to say the same thing when the tables are turned. He visibly relaxes and puts his arm around me while pressing his lips to the top of my head. We sit there for a few more minutes before I start to realize how cold I am. I shiver unwillingly.
"Are you cold?" Peeta asks.
"Yeah, I am." I say sheepishly. I know he was enjoying it out here.
"Well come on, let's get you inside and warm you up! I'll make you some tea." He stans up and extends his hand to help me up. I take it and with one quick motion he pulls me up and then throws me over his shoulder like a bag of flour. I yelp in surprise. He lets out a hearty chuckle and races back to the door. He doesn't put me down until we're both back inside. We're both a bit winded now and grinning like children with candy.
"Ew gross guys, get a fucking room." Micha calls from the kitchen.
"Oh, shut up," Peeta says grabbing a pillow off of the sofa and throwing it across the room at Micha.
"Now boys, where do pillows belong?" A man who looks like Peeta with creases around his cerulean eyes and gray waves instead of blond is looking sternly at us with his hands on his hips. But before my smile can fade, Micha grabs the pillow and chucks it at the man – it hits him in the shoulder and we all laugh. "You must be Katniss," he says to me.
"Yes sir, and you must be Mr. Mellark." I say.
"Oh, please, you don't have to call me sir, or mister. You can call me Jerry."
"Ok, well, it's nice to meet you."
"You too, my dear, you too. I'll be making dinner soon; so make yourself at home."
I nod. Maybe the divorce won't make things as awkward as I thought.