The next morning, Katniss goes to meet Effie in Peeta's kitchen, a pair of boots in hand. After the idea had occurred to her, she had gone looking for them and found them in a corner of her wardrobe, covered in dust after months of disuse. While Peeta had gone out to prune the evening primrose bushes, Katniss had carefully cleaned the boots as best she could. She had considered putting a bow or some other decoration on them, but she owned nothing of the sort. Besides, she had told herself as she made the short walk to Peeta's house, it would be surprise enough to show up unannounced again.
This time she knocks to announce her presence, sparing Effie a scare she likely doesn't need.
"You and I are about the same size, I think," she says after they exchange greetings, and lifts the shoes for Effie to see. "Try these."
"Goodness, but they look brand new," Effie protests.
Katniss nods. "I only used them maybe twice. I already have a pair I like." She lifts a foot, indicating her hunting boots. They look worn, but they are strong and sturdy, comforting and familiar, molded to the shape of her feet. "Just try them on. They might fit."
They move to sit at the dining table, and Effie removes a blue boot and slides on a black one. For a while, she is pensive, shaking her foot, standing, taking a few steps. Sighing, she turns to Katniss and says, "I'm afraid I won't be able to help the local economy."
Katniss rolls her eyes, smiling. "Glad I could save you the trouble."
Effie changes her other boot and sets the blue ones by the stairs. Once at the table again, she stares at them, smiles, thanks Katniss properly. Katniss remembers, quite suddenly, the time she gave Gale a pair of gloves of Cinna's design, how Gale had rejected them in the end. The memory is gone just as swiftly, and she only just manages to hear Effie remark that the boots seem very sturdy.
"It makes sense, of course," she continues. "They were made with such hard work in mind."
"They're pretty comfortable," Katniss tells her. "But I don't need them, honest. They look better on you anyway."
Effie shakes her head, smiling, ready to politely deflect the compliment, no doubt. But at the last second, she stops and looks up at Katniss. "Do you really think so?"
"Yeah."
It's only one word, but it seems to mean the world to Effie, whose soft smile now is unlike any Katniss has ever seen her give before.
"Thank you, again," says Effie.
That smile makes sense to Katniss later, when she is working on the book. It isn't just the compliment that makes the difference, it's the person who gives it. Here, where fashion is of minimal if any importance, Katniss' praise has made all the difference.
There is, in fact, a first time for everything.
Katniss heads for Haymitch's after lunch with an offering of a few rolls of bread rolled up in a cloth napkin. Since Peeta's return, Greasy Sae makes sure that Haymitch has food to eat and is not living in filth, but Katniss still sees to him from time to time. It isn't lost on her that he never made good on his promise to do the same, but she can't fault him for it. His grief has more years in it than hers, and far different horrors.
She finds him out back with a bottle of white liquor, watching his geese eat the grass about his house. Wordlessly, she sits with him, unfolding the napkin.
"You make those?" he asks, eyeing the bread buns, then her, with suspicion.
"No."
Satisfied, he grabs one and munches away.
"Do you think I'm crazy for defending Effie to the rest of the district?"
He snorts. "You don't waste any time, do you, sweetheart?" He rolls his eyes, swallows the bite he's just spoken around. "Now, what are you talking about?"
"She didn't tell you what she's here for when you talked?"
"I wouldn't exactly call what we did yesterday 'talking'."
Katniss frowns at him. "She's here to see about filming a documentary about Twelve. It sounds sort of like a propo, only less… twisted."
"That's Heavensbee, all right. Always looking for a good show to win the people's hearts." He chuckles wryly, taking a swig from his bottle.
"It was her idea, though." When he arches his eyebrows at her, she goes on, "She wanted an excuse to come here and see us for longer than a day or two."
"She told you that?"
"She told Peeta."
"And I'm part of that 'us'," he says more than asks, the sarcasm in his voice as heavy as the alcohol on his breath.
Katniss rolls her eyes. "Peeta definitely is, and I am, as far as I can tell. I assume she meant you, too. She's known you the longest out of all of us."
"'Known' isn't the word I'd use. Point taken, though," he adds hastily when she fixes a glare on him. "So, what happened? I don't recall there being a raging mob yesterday. I'm sure I would've heard it from here."
Katniss summarizes yesterday's trip into town, and Haymitch eats, giving her much needed silence on his part.
"I just couldn't stand it, hearing them say those things," she finishes, shrugging. She leaves out that it reminded her of Gale. She hasn't told that to anyone, and she doesn't think she ever will.
"Well, if it comforts you any, I don't think you're crazy."
"Really?"
He nods, inhales deeply.
"But?" she prompts some seconds later.
Shaking his head, he shrugs. "I wouldn't have been as… poetic. I think you want this whole documentary thing to happen just as much as she does."
Does she? The last thing Katniss wants is to be on television again, to be followed by cameras day in and day out for however long it will take to get the right footage. But it isn't about her. Effie would have told her that right away. It's about the district, their recovery as a people and a place. It will mean new faces to see if she goes into town with Peeta again. It will mean excitement, even if all those cameras and equipment are a nuisance at first. It will mean reconnecting with the rest of Panem on their terms and on the same footing.
"Do you want it to happen?" she asks.
Haymitch shrugs again. "I don't care what happens as long as I'm not involved."
Katniss turns her head and watches the geese, telling herself that's how she feels, too.
Early in the afternoon, Effie comes to Katniss' house, nearly shaking with excitement.
"They said yes!" she says, beaming. "Oh, I must tell Plutarch at once. But I had to tell you two first! This is all thanks to you!"
She kisses both Peeta and Katniss on the cheek and nearly bounces all the way to the door. Before she grabs the doorknob, she turns and clasps her hands together in front of her. "We should celebrate! I don't know how, but we should!"
"Go talk to Heavensbee," Peeta says, chuckling. "We'll let you know if we think of something."
And they do, a few minutes after she leaves. Katniss prepares the meat, and Peeta bakes a cake. Effie sets the table when she arrives, lamenting the fact that she didn't think to bring decorations with her. Even Haymitch manages to come through with two unopened bottles of wine. He seems to have showered, too, which Katniss will be sure to thank him for later on Effie's behalf.
Katniss and Peeta accept the wine he pours them, but they do not drink more than a few sips. The whole affair is very simple, a mockery of the feasts the old Capitol used to hold, but Effie looks as happy as if they were eating in the penthouse.
"I'm just so happy that I get to come back," she says, shutting her eyes, savoring the fact of her return trip to Twelve. "I get to come back."
"And the bonus at the end of the year won't be so bad, either, I bet," Haymitch says.
Katniss shoots him a glare, but he is too busy sipping at his wine to notice. Effie, meanwhile, pulls herself together.
"If by bonus you mean that I can help this district, then, yes, it will be wonderful."
Haymitch snorts. "I've got to hand it to you, it's not a bad scheme you cooked up. You're getting paid to come out here for, what, therapy?"
"Excuse me?" Effie demands.
"Is your fancy doctor back home not worth what you're paying him?"
"That's enough," Peeta says, his gaze hard.
"What? I'm curious," Haymitch sneers. "I'm trying to understand how this works. You get to use us - and this entire district - because… why, you spent a few months in prison and it's too much?"
Peeta narrows his eyes. "Haymitch-"
"Try a lifetime of grief."
"Haymitch, stop," Katniss tells him.
"No, it's the guilt, isn't it? That's what's-"
"Haymitch," Katniss begins, but she doesn't get to say the rest. A slice of cake flies across the table and lands on Haymitch's cheek, splattering the side of his head with icing as it slides onto his shirt.
Katniss turns to the source, a livid Effie, and realizes she had been so intent on getting Haymitch to stop that she hadn't spared so much as a glance at Effie.
She is standing, colored frosting drying on her trembling hand. Her breathing is slow, deep, and deliberate, and her eyes shine with unshed tears.
"You think you know everything, don't you?" she tells Haymitch. "That we had perfect lives in the Capitol? That this is what I've chosen for my penance?"
Her silence dares him to speak, but all he does is shrug.
Rattled, her voice shakes, rising in volume and pitch seemingly of its own accord. "You think the people in the districts were the only ones whose lives Snow made difficult? You don't know anything!"
Covering her mouth with her hand, she glances at Katniss and Peeta as if in apology. Katniss manages to see the tears start to fall from her eyes before she leaves as quickly as her feet will allow.
When the door shuts, Katniss turns on Haymitch. "What was that about?"
He opens his mouth to reply, but Peeta cuts him off.
"How drunk are you right now?" he demands. "You weren't there. You have no idea what you were talking about."
"Forgive me for not being convinced," Haymitch retorts, wiping cake off his face with a cloth napkin.
"You do care what happens with the documentary," Katniss says. She stares him down, but he will not meet her eyes. "You don't want it to happen at all."
"I don't see why she has to come out here with a whole crew of people just because she feels lonely in her big, crowded city."
"I do." Now, he does meet her gaze. Peeta looks at her, too, but these words are for Haymitch. "I spent days in this house barely moving. You said you'd come see me, but you didn't. Greasy Sae made sure I didn't starve. Her granddaughter came to help, too, but I didn't care. I wasn't alone, but I needed Prim. I needed Finnick. I needed Rue. And I couldn't have them. I wanted to die."
She skips the part about Buttercup, about Peeta and the evening primrose bushes. Those details are irrelevant. "We all lost something in the rebellion. A lot of us lost nearly everything. Effie wants to be here because no one else understands that like we do."
"You don't know what it was like in the prisons," Peeta adds, more quietly this time. "You have no idea."
Haymitch looks at his glass of wine. "So why don't you tell me, then."
Peeta shakes his head. "That's not for me to say."
"You need to apologize to her," Katniss says.
"I what?"
"You upset her," Peeta says.
"You made her cry," Katniss adds. "And you aren't drunk enough to get away with it."
Haymitch slams his cake-covered napkin on the table and stands, nearly knocking the chair over. "I'm going to clean up," he says. "Which, if you'll notice, is all her fault. Make her apologize."
He grabs the remaining bottle of wine and shuffles out of the house, holding a hand to his head.
Peeta gets up to clear the table, stacking plates, putting the silverware in a pile. Katniss sighs.
"At least she didn't throw a knife," she says, but even she can't manage a smile at her failed attempt at cheer.
"I hope he liked the cake," he says.
Katniss manages a quiet laugh. She hopes she'll never have to be without Peeta.