Coming Home

Chapter Nine: Prim's Advice:

I'm an idiot and a coward.

After knowing all the horrid details of how my own mother had been capable to conspire to hurt a defenseless and innocent teenage girl, whose only sin was to have fallen in love with her son, to get rid of her just for the mere fact that she didn't approve of their courtship —without a valid reason, by the way— I couldn't stand it. I locked myself in my house for two days out of anger and shame. No matter how many times my father —God bless his soul— or Gale could have told me she never knew that the test was a fake, the fact that she ordered it made her guilty in my eyes. And knowing how gossips the Cartwrights are, and how meddlesome some townspeople are, even more so now that everyone knows that Katniss came back, the least I want is to go out and be bombarded with a thousand questions on a subject that does not concern anyone. I love my district, and I like to live here, where I grew up and everyone knows and supports each other, but I hate their gossip nature. Thankfully I had manage to finish all the pending orders at the bakery on Friday, so when I call in sick on Saturday morning, Sae just told me to take the days I needed, but, suspicious as always, she also advised me that I shouldn't let myself get carried away by the town gossip. I swear to God that that woman has always known and read me better than my own mother. I couldn't be more grateful to have her in my life.

My phone rang again.

"Delly."

That damn crazy cow kept calling me at all hours. She left so many voice messages on my cell phone that it went full, and I left them, so she couldn't leave any more. First thing on Monday morning, I would go to the police to file a report for harassment, and then to my cellphone provider to request a number change. That woman is dangerous, and I don't want her even a mile away. I have to protect my sister, because she is capable of hurting her in order to get away with what she wants.

In her poisonous messages, she kept telling me all the times that she had run into Katniss and her daughter in town, and that the dark blonde hair and brown eyes of the girl, made it more than clear that she should be the living image of her father —a man who obviously wasn't me— and that it was clear to everyone in town that Katniss had moved on, and had made a life with someone else. How everybody laughed at my expense; the lovesick fool who still mooned over a woman who dumped him, and came back just to rub in his face the family she had built with another man. And how, for being an idiot, I was missing the opportunity to honor the memory of my late mother by being together with her, the only one who had always really loved me.

"She always loved me? I'm missing the chance to honor my mother's memory?" —Fat chance. That was the last thing I wanted to do at this moment. And if harassing a person to exhaustion, plotting lies, threatening and physically attacking that same person is love ... I prefer to stay single for the rest of my life. Delly needs a shrink, fast. Thinking it over, some people have a sickly way of "loving", starting with my mother. What she did, that's not love, that's pure unadulterated selfishness. I never thought I could feel hatred towards my mom, but it is exactly how I feel at the moment. She cost me the love of my life, and I could never forgive her for that.

It was Sunday afternoon, and I was still locked at my place, trying to compose myself. Prim would return from her trip at any time, and I didn't want her to see me worried. So I had dedicated myself to doing all the house chores, so that at least the house wouldn't reflect how miserable I felt. I was in the laundry room folding the last batch of clothes that I had taken out of the dryer, but I couldn't forget Katniss' last words to me before I stupidly slammed the door in her face.

"I never stopped loving you." Damn it, there is that word again, "love", but then she went and committed herself to another. My stomach clenched at the thought. "But she believed she was your sister, did she? And you were fooling around with girls at college to, so don't be a hypocrite. But, hasn't she known the truth already? When did it happen? How old is her daughter?" Ugh! All the doubts were eating my insides. The letter she had given me lay unopened in a corner of the island in the kitchen. I didn't have the courage to open it and find out things I might not want to know about. But not doing so would mean to keep living without knowing what else happened.

I don't know how long I stood motionless next to the dryer before I heard the front door opening and Primrose calling me.

"Peeta! I'm home!"

"In the laundry room little one!" I answered starting to fold again the same shirt I've had in my hands for the last fifteen minutes and trying to sound casual.

Less than a minute later, she came up behind me and hugged me.

"I missed you dork!"

I turned with a big smile in my face and kissed the top of her head. "I miss you too squirt. I hope you're hungry, I made your favorite, spaghetti and meatballs."

"Yummy! I hope you made me buttermilk biscuits!" she said excited, sporting that beautiful smile that always brighten my day.

"You know I did! Come, let's have some dinner and you will tell me everything about that trip."

"Yeay!" She squealed and clapped her hands in delight. Then we went together to the kitchen laughing. Having Prim back home was a breath of fresh air. She took two plates from the cabinet and sat on one of the stools on the island, where we always had our meals. Since the death of my parents, we had never used the dining room again. It was too painful to sit there and remember all the happy moments that we had as a family. And for me, now it was even more painful, knowing the terrible things my mother had been capable of.

I brought the food and sat across from her, serving two plates, while listening to my little sister telling me everything they did on the farm. From collecting fresh eggs in the morning for their breakfast —and the ensuing egg war that broke out when Bristel Matthews accidentally tripped and knocked the basket off the very intolerant Jakob Thread; the bullying son of our "highly esteemed" local police chief, Romulus Thread— milking the cows and collecting tomatoes, berries and learning to recognize different edible and medicinal herbs.

We were laughing at the tale of the class pranksters, nothing less than the Hawthorne twins Rory and Vick —yes, Gale's younger brothers. Who would imagine?— putting shaving cream on the hands of a sleeping Jakob, to then lightly tickle the tip of his nose with a goose feather, which caused the sleeper to fill his face with the foamy cream trying to scratch unconsciously; while Jason Rooba, the butcher's son, broadcasted it live on Facebook, when Prim noticed the envelope that was in a corner of the end of the island.

"What's that?" she asked curiously, reaching out and taking the envelope.

I opened my eyes in surprise, and tried to take it from her, but she, realizing it, withdrew it in time.

"It's nothing important, it's not even open." I said nonchalantly.

She looked at me incredulously. "Hum, if it's not important, why haven't you thrown it in the trash? It seems to be a personal letter, it has no stamp or address, just says, Peeta." —she grimaced in disgust— "It's not a love letter from that idiot Delly, isn't it?"

Delly. Just hearing the name already gave me chills.

"No honey, it's not hers. Katniss brought it to me."

She frowned as if remembering. "Katniss, Katniss...I remember her! She was your girlfriend in High School!"

"Right. She was my girlfriend."

Rarely had I stressed a single word as pointedly as the word 'was' in this statement.

"And I don't think we should talk about her. I told you it wasn't important." —I said taking the envelope from her hands and throwing it in the garbage bin— "We're eating dinner. Now, tell me more about the trip."

"Won't you read it? What do you think she wants?"

Damn, she clearly entered puberty fast now and kept challenging my decisions more and more often.

"Primrose Mellark, I said, eat your dinner!" I always used her full name when I wanted to make sure that she really listened to me. But she just took a bite from her plate before she continued.

"I liked her. She was always very nice to me when she was here. And you were head over heels in love with her. I never understood why you two broke up. You were made for each other."

"I know she was always nice to you. But we didn't break up, she dumped me. She hurt me badly and I really don't want to talk about it, so you better stop it now. Tell me about the cow milking, how did it go?"

"Good. It was easy. How did she hurt you?"

Damn that girl had become cheeky! I barely managed to suppress a grin at her insistence.

"Do you want broccoli or fennel with your liver tomorrow?" I said casually with a mocking smile.

"We went to milk the cows two times a day. Early in the morning and then in the evening. I managed to fill a whole paint."

My threat had the desired effect and the topic Katniss was not addressed again during dinner. Knowing what my sister liked and what she didn't definitely had its advantages but I was quite sure that I wouldn't be able to keep that threat up for very long.

After dinner, she went to watch some TV while I cleared away the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. But I soon realized that I wasn't able to concentrate on anything but the letter in the garbage.

"What could she possibly have written in there? How could she recover from what my mother did to her? How did she find support and comfort in another man's arms? So much so that she decided to start a family with him, even after she knew that everything they had told her about us had been a lie?"

It's true that I hadn't been a saint, and that I slept with other girls in a stupid attempt to get over her, but I never knew anything about this horrid story. For me, she had dumped me for another. Period.

"But, what did she meant by telling me she never stopped loving me?"

Without realizing it, I had been drying the same dish for almost ten minutes, when I felt Prim's arms around my waist.

"I think you should read it." Prim said from behind me.

I bowed my head in defeat.

"I'm afraid."

I felt her jerk a little. For the first time since our parents had died and I had accepted the responsibility to raise her, I had admitted that I was not always on top of everything. That there were things I feared. Things that were beyond my ability to handle.

"That's why you should read it."

My sweet little sister was way smarter than was good for her. Unfortunately, she was right. If I didn't read it, the possible contents of this letter would haunt me forever. But what if I didn't like what she had to say? Wouldn't that haunt me forever as well? Or in the worst-case scenario. If I liked what she said. What would that mean? To be honest, I was not even sure what I wanted to find in that letter. An apology? What would I get out of an apology? It was true that I wasn't over her, but I had moved on. My life had a different focus now than it had then, or even a year ago. The death of my parents had changed everything. Could I get back with her if she asked for it? Why would she want it? What about her family? What were her intentions?

I realized that my sister was still holding me in an effort to provide me with consolation.

"You know, I was wrong. Your weren't head over heels in love with her. You still are, don't you?"

"Yes, I know." I said nodding slightly.

"Well, I think she probably still loves you too."

I turned and looked at the twelve-year-old girl. How the hell could she be so sure of that?

"That's the thing. I don't think I can be sure of that ever again. Not after everything that has happened. Things you couldn't even imagine."

For a short moment, she looked at me with more earnestness than a girl her age should be able to.

"Trust me, I know. And you know it, too. Listen to your heart, not your head. You deserve all the happiness in the world; you are the best guy I know. And if she doesn't see that—which I doubt— then she's a fool. I want to see you happy and whole again. I love you, Bro-dad."

She gave one of those comfort hugs we've become so used to share since our parents death. We were strongly bonded, and I could't be more grateful to have my precious little sister with me in that very moment. She was my very own beacon of peace.

"I love you too, Primrose. Now hush, it's time for bed. You have school tomorrow."

She smiled and kissed my cheek. "Read it Peeta. For good or for bad. Good night."

"'Night sweetie."

And with that, she went upstairs to brush her teeth and change into her pajamas. Pensively, I went to the paper bin into which I had thrown the letter. It wasn't there anymore. I furrowed my brows and looked around. It was lying on the armrest of the couch, my name clearly visible. I dropped my ass into the seat and picked up the letter, holding it in one corner, swiveling it, letting it hit my other hand repeatedly.

I brought it to my nose and smelled it but it didn't have a specific odor. I don't know what I had expected, maybe that lavender scent that I have engrained in my senses and that was so her. But it was totally neutral. I turned it over and looked at the backside but it was plain white. The flap had been glued; she hadn't just tucked it into the back. Maybe she hadn't expected me to accept the letter and would have thrown it into the letterbox. She would have wanted the envelope sealed in that case.

After turning the pros and cons over and over in my mind, I finally decided that I needed to know what the letter said. I tore off the corner of the envelope and then pushed my index finger into the hole and tore the rest of the flap.

With slightly trembling fingers, I pulled out a few thick sheets of paper and unfolded them. She hadn't used regular paper, it obviously was of high quality and for an instant, I asked myself how much it had cost but my mind quickly returned to the task in hand and I started reading.

Hello everyone. I'm sorry that it took me so long to publish again, but ... well, the real life is sometimes a bit complex and I have been a little bit overwhelmed by a lot of changes and new responsibilities.

This chapter turned out to be a little long, so I divided it into two parts ... don't fear, the letter is already written and in revision, you will not have to wait three more months to know what Katniss has to say to Peeta in that letter. I'm trying to get back to a weekly schedule between chapters.

Hope you like it. Let me know your comments.

PS: Stay tuned for the next episode of Out of Bounds, coming this week.

Love you all

XOXO Lizzyvb