AN: I'm starting to get a feel for where this story is going, which is nice. We're rapidly approaching the time that the first book takes place in. Please have some patience with the pace of the story. It's never fun to rush things, after all.
Reviews are welcomed and encouraged as they make me feel like my material is worth reading.
The next morning Katniss was gone before the mayor considered getting out of bed. Her visits returned, though they were sparse. He couldn't ask for more than that.
Several months passed, and Madge's fourteenth birthday was approaching. The mayor, ever proud of his schemes, wrote invitations to every child in Madge's class for her surprise party. He contacted the Mellark family and asked them to bake a cake-nothing especially extravagant. He had already learned that lesson. Since Katniss' outburst he had made sure not to flaunt what little extra the Capitol gave him.
He took the stack of pink envelopes in his hand, admiring his craftiness, and set off to deliver each invitation by hand. After all, it wouldn't hurt for him to connect with the people. He could tell he was losing favor lately. It didn't matter, especially, as long as the Capitol approved of the job he was doing, but he didn't feel comfortable governing people who routinely left their dog's droppings in bags on his doorstep.
The mayor knocked on the first door, and a barefoot woman, a small child on her hip, answered the door. She attempted hiding her disgust, but he saw the slight curl in her upper lip. Can I help you with anything, she asked him.
Shaking slightly, he handed her the invitation. "Yes, I have an invitation here for your daughter, I was wondering if she might come to Madge's birthday party. It's a surprise," behind the woman, he saw a girl about his daughter's age, shaking her head and mouthing the word "no." The woman looked at him wearily.
"Sorry, we're busy that day," she handed the envelope back to him and closed the door. He sighed. They didn't even bother to open it.
Seventeen doors and seventeen rejected invitations later, the mayor's last stop was the Underdeen house. Katniss, of course, would come. The invitation was simply a formality. He knuckles had barely rapped against the wood when the door flew open.
"Is Madge hurt?" Katniss' eyes were wild. "Was there an accident?"
The mayor ran his hand through his hair nervously. "No, no, nothing like that, though, now that I think about it, I can understand how you came to that conclusion, me just waltzing up here with no prior warning..." he cleared his throat. "Anyway, Katniss, I would like to present you with a formal invitation to my daughter's surprise birthday party. It will be a week from Saturday," Katniss' eyes were focused on the pile of invitations still in his hand.
"No one else is coming, are they," she said flatly. It wasn't even a question. The mayor could not even formulate a reply, but chose rather to shake his head and step away from the door. Katniss touched his arm, stopping him.
"I'll be there. It will be enough party for both of us, really," she smiled weakly. "If you'll excuse me, I need to finish making dinner for my family. Thank you for stopping by, sir."
The mayor thanked her and left, shuffling rather dejectedly through the streets of the district back to his home. That night, nothing was left on his doorstep. It almost angered him.
The cake arrived while Madge was at her piano lesson- he'd arranged it at her teacher's house to keep the party some semblance of a surprise, as well as to avoid any embarrassment upon being reunited with Katniss. He had finished blowing up the last balloon when the doorbell rang. He quickly fastened the balloon to the chair at the head of the table and headed toward the door. He opened it to a rather uncomfortable looking Katniss, wearing a dress he could only assume was her mother's as it was just too long on her. Her cheeks were ruddy as if she had just scrubbed them, or ran the entire way to his house. Judging from her shortness of breath, he assumed both. A bouquet of flowers was hiding behind her back, which he knew full well she'd picked from behind the fence, which worried him. They'd been testing the electricity through the fence earlier this week.
"You were in quite the hurry, I see," he joked, stepping aside to let her in. She mumbled something nearly incomprehensible about not wanting to be late. He showed her into the dining room, where the party was to be held. And he went off to find the blasted pinata, though he couldn't remember for the life of him where it was. He trudged into his office and began sifting through the closet, going through piles of paperwork on new Capitol policies, handouts to be given to his constituents about their need to increase their servitude to the Capitol- he had neglected to hand those out for a reason- and he came upon a yellowed envelope, unopened, with his wife's name on it. He knew immediately what it was, and who to give it to. The mayor didn't plan on telling his wife. Bringing it up would only bring her more pain. Instead, he slipped it into his pocket, and began to chew his lip.
Where was the pinata?
After another half hour of searching, only to find out that his housekeeper had not only taken the pinata, but also filled it at her own expense as her "small present" to his daughter, the mayor had finally finished preparing the room. Katniss, at the housekeeper's insistence, had placed the flowers in a vase to keep them from drying out. A small stack of wrapped gifts sat at the head of the table, streamers crossing the ceiling, balloons everywhere.
He hoped it wasn't too childish. He wasn't especially good at this sort of thing. He'd ordered kazoos from the Capitol for the occasion, but Katniss threw them one disapproving glance and he'd quickly tossed them into a drawer in the china cabinet. For a different celebration, perhaps.
He continued to glance nervously at his watch. She should have been home ten minutes ago...
And the door slammed shut and Madge could be heard stomping her way up to her bedroom. Katniss bolted from the kitchen table with no hesitation up to his daughter's room, and as always, the mayor was left standing there, attempting to formulate a plan. He couldn't even understand what he had done wrong this time. All he'd wanted to do was have a party for his daughter. At the very least, he should know why she was upset.
That left him standing outside his daughter's bedroom, ear pressed to the door. He made out his daughter's soft sobs, Katniss shushing her, her childhood rocking chair creaking. After a few moments, his daughter spoke up.
"And so I was just walking back from my piano lesson and Billey came out of nowhere, Katniss. And he said-" he heard her take in a shuddering breath- "he asked me why I wasn't at my surprise party? He said," her voice broke and she spoke through her tears. "He said that no one wanted to come because I have no friends and that no one loves me and that I should just volunteer for the Hunger Games next month because no one would miss me if I were gone!" His eyes teared up hearing his daughter like this. But he couldn't go in there. Then she would know he was eavesdropping, and he didn't want to be the creepy parent.
"Look at me," he heard Katniss say softly. "Please, Madge, look at me. That isn't true at all. Billey is an idiot because he's never even spoken to you before and if he had, he would know that you are the best friend that anyone could ever have, that you are the kindest person anyone could meet and that you have the best laugh out of anyone I know. Your dad loves you very much, you know. Your mom does, too. She just can't show it. And don't you DARE volunteer for the Hunger Games, because I don't know what I would do," the mayor wiped a tear back and did his best not to sniffle and give away his position. He used to be a lot stronger than this, he thought to himself. He stepped away from the door and headed downstairs. Katniss would take care of his daughter. He needed to move the pinata outside, so he, and, presumably, the two girls, could take out some aggression without breaking a lamp.
Twenty minutes later two girls came laughing into the dining room and the mayor had to wonder if they'd hit their heads. Rather, he chose not to question a good thing and asked them if they would like some cake. The mayor lit the cake and dimmed the lights, and he and Katniss began to sing happy birthday.
He stopped three words in. The girl had a remarkable voice and he wasn't going to ruin her song with his less than helpful contribution. Beaming, Madge blew out the candles and then looked up to Katniss, who squeezed her hand. Madge's hand, which she had been holding the entire time. The mayor blinked rapidly and asked who wanted the first slice.
He should have known that Katniss would instinctually tear the head off the pinata with her first go. Why Madge insisted she go first, he wasn't sure. But, she wasn't crying, and she wasn't upset about her party being too childish, so he left the two girls in the backyard and went to wash up some of the dishes. He'd given the maid the rest of the day off.
For the next ten minutes he was up to his elbows and suds, taking his time to make sure each dish was spotless. Even those dishes that had gone un-used were subject to his scrupulous cleaning. Every so often he would look up to see the girls pelting each other with candy. Cleaning the last glass, he looked up again. Madge was wearing the head of the pinata on top of her own and was chasing a howling Katniss across the yard. Suddenly, she stopped, Madge crashing into her, the pinata's head falling over her face as she crumpled on top of Katniss. The laid there, giggling, and then Katniss pulled the pinata off of Madge's head, studying her face for a moment.
And then Katniss kissed his daughter.
And he dropped the glass on the floor.