Part Three

Chapter Three

We end up here a lot: me on the couch facing the den where Peeta works on his art. Sometimes he's sketching for a client, sometimes he's working on some digital stuff on his computer and sometimes he's simply working on a personal project. I end up reading most of the time, but on occasion bring some paperwork home to weed through.

Tonight Peeta's sketching for the hell of it and decides to join me on the couch so I slip a scrap of paper between the pages and close my book. I inch my way over to his cushion and peek at what he's putting to page.

"What're you up to?" I glance down but it's too preliminary to know what it will end up to be.

Peeta smirks and says, "None of your business."

"That's code for 'I don't know,' isn't it?"

"Yup." He looks and me and smiles, leaning in for a kiss. "But I'll let you know when I figure it out. Any requests?"

"Not offhand, but you should think about hanging some of your art here. Or even at Henion or Esselon. I'm sure Thresh would eat that up and you might be surprised at the reactions from patrons."

"I can see the headlines now: from croissants to canvas."

I smack his shoulder. "I'm serious! Don't just let them sit in the corner of the den."

"Even the ones of you?"

"No, no, no. Those stay here." Those particular pieces are absolutely not meant to be seen by anyone other than Peeta. I'm not even able to look at them much without blushing. The way he sees me—clothed or not—is intimidating.

Peeta chuckles and continues to draw. Watching him work is mesmerizing. I've actually fallen asleep a few times over the years just watching him, lulled into contentment as he repeats the same motions over and over and over. It must be something inherently Peeta because the same thing happens when he bakes: it's almost as though he's on autopilot and voila! End product!

"So I've been meaning to ask how things went when Prim and Annie were here. Did they mention anything about us?"

I'm snapped out of my head and blink a few times, again looking at Peeta.

"As a matter of fact, yes." I pull my feet under me and face him. "I am proud to report than I tactfully told them to find a new hobby." I smile and continue, "Not in so many words, but I did tell them that things were a) private and b) great. But, um, when Annie and I were talking she brought up Madison." He nods but keeps drawing. "Specifically Gale."

That earns a reaction and Peeta puts down his artwork before turning to me. "What about Gale?"

"I don't know. She mentioned that he was graduating and looking to move." All of a sudden my cuticles are really interesting so I poke at them until Peeta puts his hand over mine, silently asking me to continue. "She thinks that it would be a good idea to try to talk to him. What do you think?"

He's quiet for a long time. So long, in fact, that I wonder if silence is his answer. But eventually he calmly asks, "Why now?"

"Why not?" I squeeze his hand and continue, "I mean, I wonder if it would be a good idea to at least try to talk to him. At least we'll know we made an attempt—."

"Katniss, he made himself pretty clear—."

I interrupt, "All I'm saying is that it might be a good chance to clear the air once and for all." I pause to let my words sink in. "We were all pretty emotional that day. You included. Maybe we should just give it a shot."

Peeta rubs his face with his hands, sighing before relenting. "I'll think about it, alright?"

That's all I can ask of him. I've had this off-and-on nagging feeling about Madison and while I'm fucking ecstatic that Peeta and I are in a good place, I know that we have to address Wisconsin sooner or later. Gale. My mom. Peeta's family.

"And your family?" I mumble.

"What about them?"

I look up and lock eyes with Peeta. His glare is intense but I hold it. "Well, I'm assuming we'll see them?"

Peeta doesn't say anything, which simply confirms my fears. I obviously knew that Rye was skeptical of my intentions. I had a pretty good inkling that his parents were less than thrilled with my actions and Peeta's subsequent decision to escape.

I didn't intend on this conversation taking the turn that it has, but I also am grasping at straws here. I don't want to dwell on the negative, and it isn't like we can hide out here forever just hoping that his family magically forgets why they're pissed. If we've tackled every other dark corner of our past, why not this one?

"I know they're probably angry with how I handled things, but maybe if they see us now, we can start to mend fences." I shift positions and wrap my arms around my knees. "I don't want to feel like I'm walking on eggshells, Peeta."

"I get that, but I think it will take some time with them."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means be patient."

Insecurity surfaces. "Do they hate me? I mean, you talk to them. What do they say about all of this?"

"Katniss, I don't have the answers, okay? Let me worry about it. I just don't think that we need to make a big deal out of it."

"But it is a big deal, Peeta! I don't want to always feel like an outsider with your family."

"We're in another time zone for god's sake, so why talk about it like we might run into them at the store or something?"

Frustration bubbles inside of me and I let being immature take over. I push off of the couch and turn to Peeta. "You said that we shouldn't worry about what everyone else thought, right? Did you really mean to say that we shouldn't worry about what everyone thinks of you?"

"Oh, come on! That's not fair—!"

"The only person I was concerned about gaining forgiveness from was you. You said this—" I point my finger between myself and Peeta "—was about the both of us. That it wasn't all me. Did you mean that, or is there an asterisk I don't know about? Is it really about us, or is it just about saving face in front of your family?"

I grab my book and walk upstairs, too angry and embarrassed to continue the conversation.

…

A couple of hours later I hear Peeta climb the stairs, get undressed and climb into bed. He immediately rolls to my side of the mattress and I turn over to face him.

"I'm sorry." He pulls me close and kisses me slowly, my snotty behavior apparently forgotten.

He brushes his fingers along my collarbone and says, "I know it's important to get all of this out of the way. The thing is, I don't know how to fix it all right away."

I nod. "This whole patience thing sucks you know." He kisses me again but I quickly pull away, asking, "We're in this together though, right? United front and all that?"

"Tag team." Again with the kisses. They're incredibly distracting, and I can't help but wonder if that's his intention. He mumbles, "I'll start with my dad, okay?"

Nodding, I get lost for a bit before forcing myself to shut off the voices nagging in the back of my mind and be present. Peeta loves me. I love him. We'll figure this out just like we've figured everything else out. I have no reason to doubt that.

I come back to the now and roll him on to his back.

…

Weeks follow and I've decided to leave it at that. Peeta doesn't need me to continually pester him for information or eavesdrop on his calls home. Trusting him to lay the groundwork for fixing this has to be enough for now. Of course I'd be a part of the solution, but he'd begin the process.

Not that I'm not anxious to get it resolved, and quickly.

Mr. Mellark is a good starting point. Obviously he's the parent Peeta is closest to and he's always been friendly toward me and Prim, even if the knowledge of his wife's abuse (and his subsequent sidestepping of the issue) has left a bitter taste in my mouth. I wonder if Peeta has ever spoken to him about what happened in that house. I suppose we all have stories we'll never tell. Still, he's the best option to break the ice. Then there's Rye, whose text messages remain on my phone to this day. Not so much as a reminder of the threats, but as a reminder of my promise to never hurt Peeta in that way again. Rye was sort of like a big brother to me, too, so I hope that he'll come around eventually.

That leaves Mrs. Mellark. I'd be lying if I said that I was looking forward to seeing her again regardless of the circumstances. Not only was our relationship cool and indifferent to begin with, but my extended knowledge of her cruelty disturbed me beyond belief. I didn't want her interacting with Peeta, but that also wasn't my decision to make. Whatever his stance was, I'd find a way to support it.

…

Peeta's home by the time I get off of work so I grab my bag and head inside. He's not in the kitchen but I hear his voice coming from the den. He must be on the phone so I start leafing through the mail and wait for his conversation to finish. Student loan statements, ValuPak coupons, March of Dimes, oooh! Penzey's1 catalog…

I'm startled by the frustration in his voice when he says, "I know that, alright? But you're going to have to let that go, Dad. Katniss did. I did. Don't you want to see me happy for once?"

Obviously I can't hear the other end of this dialogue and I'm not sure I want to.

"So, what? You don't want me to come home? Are we not welcome there anymore?"

My legs feel like lead and I sink onto a kitchen chair. I rub my temples as tears start to prick at my eyes. This is worse than I had feared.

"I love her!"

Why did I have to fuck everything up for him? Now he'd have to choose between me and his family; how is that fair?

"She's a part of my life. Dad, she will always be a part of my life, whether you guys accept that or not."

Am I worth it? Is all of this worth it to Peeta?

"Well I'm sorry Mom feels that way. And I'm not exactly shocked that you're blindly following her by default. Pretty much par for the course, huh Dad?" He pauses for a moment and angrily says, "Let me know if you change your mind."

I assume the conversation has ended as I hear him walk toward the kitchen and stop abruptly when he realizes I'm home. He stands there awkwardly and I look up, the panic and sadness spilling over my cheeks.

I swallow and gasp, "Now what?"

Peeta walks over and kneels in front of me, his hands on my shoulders. "Katniss, this doesn't change anything. Not one thing. What matters is this—" he motions between the two of us "—and that's all. Please, please don't worry yet. Please."

I can see that Peeta's about as upset as I am, clearly agitated that I'll deem it all too much. "We're still in this together?"

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be. Stay with me, okay?" His voice is trembling. "We've weathered worse. Don't back out on this now."

I lean forward and hug him to the floor.

Chapter Three Notes:

1. Penzey's. A Wisconsin spice-house that is AWESOME. They have shops all over the United States now and yes, you should sign up for their free catalogs.