Part Three

Chapter Ten

"Peeta?" I call. I drop my bag in the kitchen and run upstairs. He's freshly showered and is getting changed into some new(er) cargo pants and a light button-up shirt. I can't help but smile and walk over, straightening his collar.

"Do I look okay?" He's a tiny bit nervous, but I think it only adds to the charm of the day.

"You look perfect. I, on the other hand, smell like soggy coffee grounds." I start stripping and call to him, "Would you mind grabbing my sundress while I clean up real quick?" He nods and I run downstairs in a robe. I pile my hair up on my head to keep it out of the water and wash up. Wrapping a towel around my body, I brush my teeth, swipe a little mascara on my lashes and reach for my chapstik. At Peeta's request, that's going to be the extent of my makeup, which is a good thing considering I apply the stuff like I'm a kindergartner with fingerpaints.

I run back upstairs and drop the robe, shaking out my hair and stepping into the cotton dress. Peeta comes up behind me to zip me up and tie the halter's strings. His fingers linger on my shoulders and he gently turns me to face him.

"You look stunning. More beautiful than any other bride I've ever seen." I know I'm blushing when he lifts my chin to meet his eyes. "I want to remember this day forever."

"Me, too." I cover his hand with my own and continue, "Let's try to take our time, okay? Freeze the moments and commit them to memory."

Peeta kisses me softly and murmurs, "Agreed." He walks us toward the stairs, grabs the ring boxes off the nightstand and we make our way out of the house. The next time we come home it will be as husband and wife.

…

We stand at Haymitch's front door and knock—I don't think we've actually done that before—waiting anxiously for him to appear. When he does I exhale because he's somewhat clean and borderline sober.

He takes one look at the two of us all 'dressed up' and bellows, "Aww Christ, who died?"

Peeta snorts and I retort, "No one, but we need you to come with us for about an hour."

"For the last time, I'm not going to church, sweetheart. No number of confessions will set me right."

He starts to shut the door but Peeta stops him. "Haymitch, we're getting married in about a half hour and we'd very much like you to be there."

My uncle's eyes first get big, then squint and finally soften. He looks at me and then at Peeta before he clears his throat a few times. I can see his jaw working a little and I wonder if he's going to cry. Haymitch lets out a deep, shaky breath and says, "No church?"

I smile. "No church. But please, we'd both like a family member to be there."

"Check the family tree. I'm not your family."

Peeta corrects him. "When we came out here, you were the only family we had left."

That gets him clearing his throat again. "Well, well. You sure as hell could have given me more warning."

He shuffles away but reappears about 10 minutes later wearing an ancient brown suit, his face washed and hair combed. There's no doubt in my mind (or nose) that he added a generous splash of Old Spice as a final touch.

As he walks past us, heading toward the car, I touch his forearm and say "Thank you, Haymitch."

"Mmhmm."

…

We decided on Mount Sugarloaf14, asking Irv15 to meet us at the little pavilion at the summit. It's windy up here, but the views can't be beat. It's the perfect backdrop: I wrote to Peeta from this spot when I first came to Amherst and now here we are. We've come full circle.

Haymitch surprises us both when he clears his throat and offers his arm to me. I weave my arm through his and reach for Peeta with my other hand; together we walk up the small hill to where we'll exchange vows. Haymitch awkwardly kisses my cheek when we reach the little overlook, then turns to shake Peeta's hand and follows it with a strong clasp on his shoulder. Irv welcomes us and shakes our hands, too.

"Are we ready?"

"Actually, no." I hug Peeta again and whisper, "I love you so much." There's something about holding each other that's gained a new intimacy, and I can't believe my luck that really, now I never have to let Peeta go. He smiles and kisses my cheek. A few hikers are looking on as I announce, "Okay, now we can start."

We had asked Irv if he wouldn't mind reading "The Hands of the Bride and Groom16" which he happily does.

"Katniss, please face Peeta, and hold his hands, palms up, so you may see the gift that they are to you.

These are the hands, young and strong and vibrant with love, that are holding yours on your wedding day, as he promises to love you all the days of his life.

These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, for a lifetime of happiness.

These are the hands that will countless times wipe the tears from your eyes: tears of sorrow and tears of joy.

These are the hands that will tenderly lift your chin and brush your cheek as they raise your face to look into his eyes: eyes that are filled completely with his overwhelming love and desire for you.

…

Peeta, please hold Katniss' hands, palms up, where you may see the gift that they are to you.

These are the hands, smooth, young, and carefree, that are holding yours on your wedding day, as she pledges her love and commitment to you all the days of her life.

These are the hands that will hold you tight as you struggle through difficult times and will comfort you when you are sick or console you when you are grieving.

These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, for a lifetime of happiness.

These are the hands that will give you support as she encourages you to chase down your dreams.

…

Together, as a team, everything you wish for can be realized.

Katniss and Peeta, may you always remember to cherish the hands you hold before you today. Give these hands the strength to hold on during the storms of stress and the dark of disillusionment. Keep them tender and gentle as you nurture each other in your love. Help these hands to continue building a relationship founded in friendship, rich in caring and devoted to an equal partnership. May you see your four hands as healer, protector, shelter and guide.

Peeta squeezes my hands and I look up to see his smile. I swallow, blinking back tears and smile back.

Since we're saving our handwritten vows for the gathering in a few weeks, Peeta and I opt for the simple words millions of other couples have said before us. Haymitch stands just behind me, looking on as we make a promise bigger than any other we've ever made.

"By the power vested in me by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, I proclaim that these two are now married, husband and wife. Peeta, you may kiss your bride."

He does.

…

If we had an audience, people would probably assume that we should be committed. Between crying fits, hysterical laughing, dropping off my cantankerous (but deep down inside soft-hearted) uncle, making out in the car and general giddiness, we eventually make it home, bursting at the seams. Both of us are dying to tell someone—anyone—what we did. We run to the couch and dial my house. Peeta insists on at least trying my mom first.

Her soft voice answers on the third ring, "Hello?"

I press the speakerphone button. "Mom? It's Katniss."

Peeta leans in and (sort of) yells, "And Peeta!"

"Oh, hello. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, Mom. Everything is great. We, um…we have some news." I look at Peeta with a somewhat panicked expression. I hadn't exactly thought through the whole 'guess what we did' announcement.

"Yes?"

"Mom, we—. Well Peeta and I—."

He interrupts me and just blurts out, "Claire, Katniss and I are married."

I mouth, "Tactful, Mellark." He just shrugs.

"What?! Katniss—."

"Mom, we didn't want to wait anymore and—."

I hear Prim's muffled voice in the background. Mom tells her that it's me on the line and to pick up the other receiver. She does and cries, "Hey Katniss! Mom says you have some news? What's up?"

Peeta yells (again), "Hey Prim!"

"Peeta? You guys are calling together?" I swear I can hear the gears turning in her head. "Ohmigod, are you pregnant? Is that the news?!"

"What?! No! Prim, Peeta and I are not having a baby for god's sake. We got married."

Silence. We look at each other and wait for a few seconds before Peeta urges, "Hello?!"

A shrill scream breaks through the receiver and we hold it out in front of us. I throw my head back and laugh while Peeta tries again. "Hello?! Prim?!"

She finally calms down enough and yells, "I can't believe you guys didn't tell me or wait until I was out there!"

I interject, "We are telling you! It literally just happened and you're the first two people who know. Well, aside from Haymitch."

"Haymitch was there?! I mean, was it romantic? I bet it was. Tell me everything."

We rehash the whole event and some details leading up to it, apologizing profusely (not really) and repeatedly for keeping it to ourselves. Prim's rather vocal but my mom says very little. Peeta explains that we'll be sending out announcements soon and that we'd like them both to come out for our "wedding part deux" in a few weeks. Mom offers to check her schedule but my sister agrees immediately.

"Can you text me a pic of your rings? Together. Like holding hands?"

Peeta laughs. "Sure. As soon as we hang up."

"Peeta! You're my brother now!"

"Katniss? Peeta?" My mom's voice breaks through Prim's ramblings. "I am very happy for you. I wish we could have been there, but I want you to know that I support you. And that I'm proud of you. Both of you."

I grip Peeta's hand in mine and my lip starts to tremble. "Thanks, Mom. That means a lot."

"Well, I'm sure that you have a few other calls you'd like to make—" Prim whines but our mother cuts her off "—so congratulations. I love you both and we'll talk soon, okay?"

"Okay—."

"Katniss! The picture. Send me the picture!"

"Got it. Okay, love you guys!"

"Bye Mr. and Mrs. Mellark!"

We laugh and yell, "Bye!"

…

"Shut the fuck up."

"We're serious!" Peeta and I are laughing now, imagining Rye's eyes bulging out of his head.

"I need a picture."

"I'll send you one from my phone." I text one of the pictures I just sent to Prim to Peeta's brother. We look completely ridiculous, holding out our rings so that they take up the foreground of the shot. "Okay, sent."

"Dude, are you guys pregnant?"

"Why does everyone keep asking us that? No, I didn't knock Katniss up. Engaged people do have a tendency to get married, you know."

"Are you going to tell Mom and Dad? Cos Mom's gonna shit a brick."

"We'll send them the announcement, but my guess is that that'll be it. What they decide to do with it isn't really a huge concern of mine." Peeta looks at me and smiles. "Or ours."

"Well congratulations. I'm happy for you two, I am."

"You think you can make it out in a few weeks?"

"I wouldn't miss it, bro."

…

"I have an idea for Annie." I show Peeta the photo I took of Finnick and I before sending it to our friend. I'm assuming she already got it once from Finnick.

Annie: Yeah, yeah. I know we suck.

Finnick's a good guy. You could have told me!

Annie: Think of it this way: we did tell you, just in a very roundabout way.

Oh! Via a text I wasn't even supposed to see?

Annie: We would have told you eventually.

Well in that case…

I text her the pic of Peeta and I. It only takes her 10 seconds to call. I hit the speakerphone button and Peeta says, "Mellark residence."

"Are you guys for real?! You got married?! When?!"

By now we're old pros at summing up the whole week, culminating with the ceremony. "Annie, the day was absolutely perfect. Minus not having everyone here, it was everything we wanted it to be."

She's crying now and I lean on Peeta. "I'm so happy for you guys! And yes! Yes I will be there for the reception, or whatever it is you're calling it."

"You could probably stay with Finnick," I hint. "He said he hoped you'd stop by the next time you were in town..."

"Oh shut up. Point taken."

…

Annie promises not to say a word to Finnick so that we can tell our coworkers at the same time. For now we can turn off our phones and let everything sink in. Peeta gets up and walks to the kitchen, returning with a small box and two forks.

He holds the box up and explains, "I couldn't resist baking us a little something."

I jump up and run back to the kitchen, grabbing the closest thing we have to champagne—prosecco that Cinna brought for our party this spring— as well as two wine glasses and a corkscrew. Peeta's taken the small cake out of the box and places it on the coffee table. I pass him the bottle to open and sit on the floor next to him, our backs against the couch. He pours us each a glass and puts the bottle next to the cake.

"To my beautiful wife." He raises his glass and clinks mine. "I love calling you that, by the way."

"I like hearing it. Okay, let me try now: to my amazing husband. How was that?" He smirks and clinks my glass again before taking a sip of his wine. "Peeta, today was unbelievable. I couldn't have asked for a better day."

"Me, either." He links his fingers with mine. "Cake?"

"Please." He takes a fork and digs right in, taking a forkful and bringing it to my lips. I eye him warily. "Be nice."

Peeta feeds me the small bite and whispers, "I'm always nice." I bring my hand to my lips and close my eyes. "Good?"

"Mmmm. You tell me." I take a fork and follow his lead, watching him taste his own creation. He nods in approval. "Perfect, huh?"

"It's good, but try the frosting by itself." He swipes a small amount on his finger and brings it to my lips, only to smear it there. "Then again, I am the professional baker. Allow me." Peeta leans in and slowly traces my mouth, first with his tongue and then with his own lips. I close my eyes. "Pretty good."

"My turn." I straddle his waist and swipe the tiniest bit of frosting on the underside of his jaw, first kissing, then sucking gently. He groans softly and lets his head fall back against the cushions. "Yeah, pretty good."

He abruptly pushes me off of him and I land awkwardly on my hip. I start to whine but he holds out his hands to help me up. "Come on."

I try to pull him back. "What was that for? And where are we going? I want to stay here."

"It's your own fault."

"What? What is my fault?"

He pulls me close and breathes near my ear. "You can't just do things like that and not expect there to be consequences, Katniss." Oh. I can play along.

"But…but there's carrot cake—." I kiss his neck.

He groans a little bit but recovers. "Too bad. We need to go have married sex."

"Can we at least bring the cake?" I again nibble the spot previously dotted with frosting.

He looks torn, glancing from me to the cake and back to me. Peeta rushes out, "Yes, absolutely."

I laugh and together we run upstairs.

Chapter Ten Notes:
14. I've referenced Mount Sugarloaf before, but do yourself a favor and google it. The views of the Connecticut River, Pioneer Valley and surrounding hills are perfect.
15. I had to google search Justice of the Peace in Amherst and one of the names that popped up was Irv. How can I not have a guy named Irv marry these two?
16. The Hands of the Bride and Groom is used with some regularity at wedding ceremonies. I omitted a few lines that made me cringe and changed a few drastically. I don't own the words, don't claim to have written the words and certainly don't intend on pretending that I'm smart enough to have come up with the idea in the first place.

Author's Note: thanks for reading and for your kind words!