There's a knock at my door bright and early the next morning. I brace myself before answering it, hoping it's not Peeta. Yet in some small corner of my being I want it to be him. It's not. A drunk and dirty Haymitch stumbles in. He's carrying a goose in his left arm and a bottle of white liquor in his right, both of which he proceeds to set down on my table.

"Haymitch, what are you doing here?" I ask.

He looks up as if noticing me for the first time. "Oh hi there, sweetheart. Just thought I'd drop by since you seem to have forgotten about me." He takes a long look around the room before the Memory Book catches his eye. "What's this?" he asks.

I snatch it away from his grubby hands. "Part of my therapy. What's that?" I ask, pointing to the goose.

"That's a goose, sweetheart. Thought a hunter like you would know that."

"Why do you have a goose?" I ask, ignoring his jibe.

"For my goose farm."

I want to laugh. The thought of Haymitch trying to care for anything living is a joke. But then maybe I'm being too harsh. Isn't he the reason I made it out of the arena twice?

"Knock knock."

I look up to see Greasy Sae standing in the doorway with a pot of something in her arms. I wave her in.

"Good to see ya out and about, Haymitch," she says, setting the pot down on the counter.

He grunts and lifts the lid. "Don't suppose you have any alcohol in there?"

Greasy Sae chuckles. "Your supply running low I take it?"

Haymitch frowns at the bottle on the table. "That's my last one."

I sigh. A sober Haymitch is almost worse than a drunk Haymitch. And despite our quarrels, I don't enjoy the thought of him having to go through withdrawal again like he did in 13. He's staring so pathetically at the bottle that I hand him it and his goose and tell him to come back later and I'll have something for him. He grunts and then leaves about as gracefully as he arrived.

"You got a secret stash or something?" Sae asks me as she ladles the stew into bowls.

"No. But I might be able to get Dr. Aurelius to send me some."

She chuckles. "I'd like to hear that conversation."

When I don't respond, she hands me a bowl and takes a seat across from me.

"I hope you don't mind, I invited someone for breakfast."

I look up from my stew, suspicious. "Who?" I ask. But I don't have time to wonder because he appears in the doorway with a fresh loaf of bread. I suddenly have the urge to smash my bowl on the ground and throw a tantrum. Greasy Sae should know better than to go inviting people, especially people like Peeta, into my home. But then I see the little girl holding his hand. She's the same one who asked me who I was talking to in the meadow the day before.

Peeta crosses the room and sets the bread on the table. "Hi, Katniss," he says softly.

I wave my spoon ungracefully. "Hello."

The little girl walks over to me until her tiny hands are on my knee. "Hello, I'm Geevee," she says loudly.

"Hello, Geevee. I'm Katniss."

She nods. "I know. What 'cha got there?" she asks, pointing to my bowl.

"Stew. Would you like some?"

"Yes please."

Sae fixes them both a bowl and then Peeta takes a seat next to me. Geevee sits on my other side. I feel a twinge in my chest. This is the first time my table has been full. I play with a carrot until I've turned it to mush. Peeta clears his throat.

"Geevee tells me you were hunting. Are you still any good?" There's a twinkle in his eye and I realize he's making a joke.

I try to laugh but all that comes out is a sickly wheeze. "I couldn't forget if I tried."

He nods as if to say, there you go, Katniss. You can talk to me.

"Katniss talks to grass," Geevee says, shoving a spoonful of stew into her mouth.

Greasy Sae laughs. And I frown as Peeta tries to suppress a smile.

"I do not," I grumble.

"Yes you do," Geevee says around a full mouth. "I saw you."

I frown at my breakfast. The last thing I need is someone proving that I'm mentally unstable. But Peeta surprises me by saying "I talked to trees once."

I look up. "What?"

I seem to have startled him by looking directly at him, but he recovers. "In the arena… after the tracker jackers… I had a conversation with a tree because I thought it was my mother."

I snort, unable to help myself. Geevee squeals. Peeta blushes, but nods. "It's true."

Those clear blue eyes lock on mine for a brief moment and I realize he's done it again. Peeta has put himself on the spot to make me look less like an idiot while also bringing up a memory from our past without making it painful.