I want to send out huge thanks to all of you have taken the time to review this story, you guys really inspired me.
Also I want to give credit to my beta's kismet4891 and katnissinme. Thank you some much you lovely ladies.
In Name Only- Peeta's POV
Part 5
1932
Peeta sat in his living room chair with the radio turned up loud in hopes of making him forget that he was alone in the house. Mrs. Seeder had long since left, leaving Peeta by himself in the too large house. He had his drawing pad in hand, and before he knew it he was again drawing the likeness of his unrequited love, Katniss Everdeen.
He had seen Katniss earlier in the day, and his heart had sunk at the sight of her. She looked thinner each time he saw her, and he could tell by her haggard appearance that she wasn't sleeping well. Peeta wanted to ask her about it, but he knew from his own experience how obnoxious it was to have someone point out how bad you look. Peeta had decided months ago that he would try his best to put a smile on her face whenever possible; usually tea and baked goods were enough to do the trick. But not today. Today she was nearly totally withdrawn. Peeta patted on her stool at the counter and asked, "How are you today, Katniss?"
She answered sarcastically, "Well, let's just say I've got my health."
"How's Prim?" Peeta inquired. He was concerned about the youngest Everdeen, too, but he knew that Katniss put her sister's well being high above her own.
Peeta set her tea in front of her along with a cheese bun. Katniss replied happily, "She's doing well, she won her class' spelling bee."
"Ah, that's great!" Peeta exclaimed, and while she was drinking her tea he sneakily added a few minutes to the oven timer. Usually he had a bag of "stale" goods waiting for Katniss, but she was starting to become suspicious of him doing it out of charity, giving her the best of what he had to offer for free. Peeta knew that her pride would not allow it for too much longer, as she was already apprehensive of any stale bread before Wednesdays. So Peeta's new plan was to occasionally burn the bread or "mess up a batch" so that Katniss would be more willing to take it. When he pulled out the slightly darkened raisin nut bread he proclaimed, "Stupid me, I must have mis-set the timer!"
"Well that's a shame, that is the best bread," Katniss commiserated after swallowing her last bit of cheese bun.
"Yeah, it is," Peeta concurred. "Could you take it home for your chickens or something? I can't sell burnt bread, and if I give it to the dogs I'll just attract every stray in the neighborhood."
Katniss's eyes lit up and she smiled for a moment before turning more serious and replying, "Yes, I can take it off your hands for you."
Peeta sacked up the bread and watched Katniss walk out to her truck. She pulled a chunk of bread out of the bag and devoured it when she thought no one was looking. He was happy that he could do something to make her life just a little better. At least tonight her and Prim's dinner would be supplemented by some hearty bread. It was through small acts like this that Peeta was able to help Katniss; he was glad to do it, although he wanted to do so much more.
Peeta worried about her constantly: he worried about what she was eating, how she was heating her home during this spring cold snap, or even paying rent, how she was coping with her father's death and the loss of the farm. No one had seen Mrs. Everdeen in the months since Harland's death. Only the occasional house call from the doctor confirmed that she was still alive. Other than that, Katniss had allowed no one into their home.
The picture that had taken form on the page before him was an image of one of Katniss's rare happy moments. She was smiling up at him, with a cup of tea in her hand and a cheese bun set before her. Peeta was putting the finishing touches on Katniss's braid when there was a knock at his door. His visitors were few and far between, especially at eight o'clock on a week night. He turned off the radio, put his drawing on the end table, and answered the door. In a thousand years, he never would have been able to guess who would be on the other side of the door. He saw a petite woman in a fur-trimmed coat, and a familiar set of dark brown eyes stared up at him. Peeta froze and looked at the woman slack-jawed, "Clove?!"
"Hello, Peeta," she said softly. "May I come in? It's a chilly out here."
Peeta wanted to send her away with a heavy slam of the door in her face, but then he noticed something – one of her eyes was puffy and was showing purple though her makeup, and her lip was split. She'd been on the losing end of a recent fight. As much as he wanted to humiliate her as she had him, he could not mistreat someone in need. "Come in," he said coolly.
Clove walked in and Peeta motioned to the couch, then offered only out of politeness, "Can I offer you anything?"
"No, thank you though. I just had dinner with Mother and Father," Clove explained. Peeta sat on the chair, the furthest seat away from his unexpected guest. She seemed as if she wanted to start a conversation. "It's been a long time."
"Eleven years," Peeta said matter-of-factly.
"You look well," she commented. "You've improved with age."
"And you look like you've been hit by a truck," Peeta said evenly. "Cato do that?"
Clove pursed her lips, nodding her head as Peeta noticed a tear fall down her set a box of tissues in front of her, but that's as far as his comforting would go. "He's not well, he's lost his grip on reality, he's crazy. The doctor said that it was probably from syphilis that he caught from one of his hussies. Thank God I've not slept with him in years." She stopped to gauge Peeta's reaction, but he didn't have one so she continued."I've tried to have him committed, but his family is connected and is preventing it. So I've left him. He did this when I locked him out of the house. He went after the kids, too. That was the final straw, I had to leave him for their sake."
He had heard that the Billings were having a hard time, as the bank that Cato managed failed when the market crashed. Peeta knew that Cato had not been a faithful husband, so the knowledge that he had the pox was not a surprise. Thankfully, I got educated about condoms in the Army. Over the years Peeta would occasionally see him at speakeasies, usually witha loose woman by his side. But he could not feel much pity for Clove, Cato was a notorious womanizer long before his marriage and she knew it. "Sorry to hear that," Peeta said sincerely, he hated men who beat women, and that doubled for anyone who harmed children.
"Well, don't be, because I'm not," Clove answered back. Then her attitude changed and she smiled sweetly at Peeta. "I never should have married him to begin with. In fact, I've been thinking a lot lately about whom I should have married." Peeta gave her an incredulous look and she continued, "I never should have allowed him to send you out of the house that night. I should have spoken to you alone."
Peeta could feel all of the bitter feelings that he had been pushing down for the last decade come bubbling back up. "No, you should have never stopped writing me, you should have come and seen me the moment I came back state side. Or, at the very least, you should have broken things off with me before you started to carry on with him."
"I know that now," Clove admitted. "I was young and confused, Peeta."
"So why are you here now?" Peeta finally asked what he had been wondering ever since he saw her at his door.
"I want a second chance," she whispered. "I haven't forgotten about you. You're such a good person, you're the kind of man that I would like to have around my children. Lavinia is ten and Marvel is eight. He needs a strong man in his life, or he might end up like his father. I remember that you were always so good with children."
Peeta looked Clove over. Despite her bruised face he could tell that she was still attractive after all this time. Her figure was still trim, too. She had apparently taken care of herself. But over the years he had realized that the affection he had felt for her had been little more than infatuation, and if her affinity with him was so affected by his absence, or his war injury, then she was never what he had thought her to be. He thought of his empty house and how it would be nice to have children fill it with sound and happiness, as well as the luxury of having a warm body in his bed. Peeta had been alone for so long that he couldn't help but to ponder the possibility of thelife that Clove was offering. He looked down at his drawing pad and Katniss's eyes gazed back at him from the page. As much as he thought he loved Clove years ago, it paled in comparison to what he felt for Katniss now. His mind was at war with his heart.
What is the likelihood of me ever getting a chance to be with Katniss? She deserves to be with a young, whole man, not an old cripple.
Clove is here offering me a life that I gave up on long ago. She is also as fickle as the wind. She's only here because she's desperate and thinks that I will take her back at the drop of the hat. She never cared about me like I did for her. I've seen enough gold-digging women to tell who is looking for a meal ticket and who wants real love…Clove is looking for a meal ticket. No doubt that she has heard about my patent being sold, since her dad runs the only bank left in town.
He stared at his rendering of Katniss, then looked to the flesh and blood woman before him. If I did decide to be with Clove, it wouldn't be fair to her. My heart is with Katniss…even if the odds are slim, there is still a chance. Even Clove deserves to be loved. I surely don't love her, nor do I believe that I could with time.
Clove noticed the picture and picked it up to examine it. "I see you still draw. You've gotten better, I think. That's a pretty girl, do you know her?"
"Yes," Peeta stated simply and then he changed the subject. "So where are your kids?"
"They're with an aunt of mine in the county seat. She offered to take us in until I could find a new situation," Clove explained, a bit overly dramatic fashion."My father refuses to let us stay with him; he says he's ashamed of me leaving my husband. He won't even give me money for the legal expenses and Cato has left me with nothing."
Peeta couldn't help but to think that she was fishing for sympathy. "Well, if you need some money to help get you back on your feet I can lend you some. If you're divorcing Cato, I can have Finnick recommend a good attorney. If you need a job, I can help you find one," Peeta offered. The disappointment on Clove's face was evident. "That's all I can do for you, Clove. I can't offer you anything else – things fell apart between us for a reason."
Clove was obviously surprised; she had not been denied much in her life. Peeta could tell by her expression that she had been sure Peeta would take her up on her offer in a heartbeat. I can see that she is as arrogant as ever. When they were young, all she had to do was ask and Peeta would do or give her anything, but he was no longer that lovesick boy.
"Peeta, my divorce will take a long time to be finalized," Clove clarified. "Maybe you should think about it for a while." She moved toward him and reached for his hand that rested on the arm of his chair, but he pulled it back. He couldn't help but to be totally annoyed by this whole conversation. She had not even once said that she was sorry, and she clearly assumed that she'd just walk back into his life.
Peeta cleared his throat and looked Clove in the eye. "No amount of time could make me forget about what happened all those years ago. I've forgiven you, but that doesn't mean that I want to be with you. I think you ought to be going now, I would hate for you to get a bad name, you know, being at an old suitor's home, alone, especially when he's still a bachelor."
"Peeta," Clove said exasperatedly, "I don't care what people may think about me."
"Maybe I care what people think about me," Peeta announced. "I have a reputation that I have worked hard for, I have reasons for not wanting people to think ill of me."
Clove looked at the picture again and something must have clicked, "Is she one of those reasons?"
"Yes," Peeta confirmed.
"Oh, well," Clove said simply and rose, "I thought that I'd try. You deserved the first shot at me."
"Wait a moment," Peeta said and went to his coat pocket and pulled out his check book, wrote a check, and handed it to Clove - telling himself it was not for Clove, it was her children, whom only had the bad luck to be born to such selfish parents. "That should get you started with a lawyer. Pay me back when you can." Although I know you probably won't.
Clove did not hesitate as she snatched the slip of paper from Peeta's hand and frowned slightly at the amount. She thanked him quietly and left with a simple "goodbye," and then he watched her hurry to her Cadillac.
He could not help but compare Clove and Katniss at that moment. Katniss – who wore tattered overalls and hated the charity of a simple loaf of bread – if he were to try to force one unearned dollar into Katniss's hand she'd refuse it. Peeta knew that she had sold many of the family possessions to make ends meet. Yet here was Clove, with her gold jewelry and a fur-trimmed coat, who expected the world from him and had no shame in taking his money, convinced it was not enough. Katniss could live well off the value of Clove's jewelry for six months. Clove wouldn't make it stretch one month. At not quite eighteen-years, Katniss was willing to make sacrifices and work hard to take care of her family. While Clove, at thirty, was ready to catch a new husband instead of finding a way to support herself and her children. His admiration for Katniss grew yet again. Peeta reminded himself, only two more months until May.
Thanks for reading!
