I always liked to paint. Whether it was the paint set at school, or the cakes at my family's bakery. The spare room is still empty, and the baby will need a room when he or she comes. Katniss is due early January, and it's November. So I ask Katniss about painting the spare room for the baby. She agrees, though warning me not to go overboard. This makes me smile. Because she has spent the last few weeks reading about parenting. This means a lot of trips to the library, one of the latest additions to District 12's town square. And being with child, she can't carry stacks of books, which leaves them for me.
We talk about colour schemes for our baby's bedroom. ''Green is a nice colour, isn't it?'' Katniss says casually, ''and it would go well with the curtains.'' ''The curtains that we haven't even purchased, Kat.'' I mainly disagree because I want to go for a warmer colour. ''Orange is warm enough.'' She gives me a playful glare, and I suggest yellow. Katniss has a smile around the sides of her lips, and grabs my hand. She drags me out the front door and down the street. There's a long strip of grass, and some dandelions. She scoops up a handful of the golden-headed flowers and explains. How their bright yellow colours are a symbol of hope and a future for her. How she thinks of me as her dandelion. How she thinks that yellow is perfect for the bedroom. I place my arm around her waist and we walk to the town square and purchase yellow paint.
I do up the bedroom the next day. Katniss rests. I paint and decorate the room happily. I even plant dandelions outside the window. I imagine our little baby waking up to a beautiful room like this. A little version of Katniss.
I show Katniss when she wakes up. ''Peeta, oh, it's wonderful! The dandelions are great.'' We embrace, and she admires the windows. ''I still think it needs a little green, though,'' she giggles.
