Part Three

Chapter Eleven

The weekend is essentially stay-cation, the sequel. Aside from a dinner with Haymitch and running to Wal-Mart to get copies made of the picture we're including with the announcement, Peeta and I enjoy being low key. Cake, sex, waffles, painting, sex, burgers, cinnamon rolls, sex. You get the idea. I don't know why, but being married adds a new dimension to everything. The feeling of permanence—or maybe it is the formality of the promise of forever—adds an element of…reverence? The word escapes me, but the feeling doesn't.

"Peeta?"

"Hmm?" He's at his drafting table and looks up frequently as he draws me. I'm naked, but so is he.

"Do you feel different? Now that we're married, I mean."

"I'm a little worn out, if that's what you're getting at." He smirks and I roll my eyes.

"Come on. Be serious!"

"Different how?" Peeta puts his pencils down and walks over to the couch, sitting and rearranging so that I'm lying back against his chest. He pulls a light blanket over the both of us and nuzzles his nose into my hair.

"I don't know, exactly. I feel like we've made it. It feels so real…I mean, it is real. I know it is." An exasperated sigh escapes my lips. "I'm not doing a good job of explaining it."

"I know what you mean," he whispers near my ear. "I haven't felt this content in a long time."

I twist slightly to look into his eyes. "Yes, exactly. Content. There's no rush because we're already here. Everything else can happen on our time."

"I like that word, you know. 'Our.' It's taken on a whole new meaning." He kisses my forehead. "So has 'we,' 'us'—."

I kiss him back. "'Together'?"

"Together."

…

By the luck of the draw Peeta has to open the bakery on Monday and my shift starts in the afternoon. The plan is for me to stop by Henion about a half hour before Peeta leaves so that we can share our good news with everyone there and then drive to Esselon to do the same.

It's 5 o'clock in the morning when I hear Peeta quietly getting ready to leave for work. I roll to his side and murmur, "I don't want you to go."

He smiles at me and sits on the edge of the mattress, smoothing my hair with his hand. "I don't want to go, either."

"So don't. Stay here."

"I would if I could." He leans in and kisses my cheek, warm and wrinkled from the pillowcase. "Katniss, will you help me with this?"

In Peeta's hand is the chain we purchased to keep his ring safe while at the bakery. I scoot up behind him and reach for the chain. He slides the ring off his finger and I thread it with the chain, fastening it around his neck.

"There. All secure."

"I like it on my finger better." Peeta flexes his left hand and touches the slight indentation that his wedding ring has made on his finger.

"Me, too. It would keep flirty customers at bay." I reach my arms around him and hug him, gently feeling where the ring now rests against his chest. "But it's still there."

"Over my heart and everything." I kiss his cheek and he squeezes my hands, signaling that he needs to get up and leave. I lie back down and he leans over me, kissing me softly. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"I love you."

"Love you, too."

…

There's plenty to keep me occupied until I need to leave. I address, seal and stamp our announcements; I'll drop them off at the post office on my way into town. We've been slobs for the past two days, so I throw in a few loads of laundry, take the garbage out and deal with the dishes in the kitchen. Eventually I smile and get the vacuum out after finding cake in completely unexpected places. I end up wiping down most horizontal surfaces…frosting seems to have migrated, too.

I'm completely in the zone when the doorbell rings, shocking me back to the present. At the door is the UPS delivery guy with six huge boxes and an electronic signature tablet.

"Sign here, please."

I quickly scribble down my new name and start carrying the boxes inside. One glance at the label and my heart sinks. All of them are from the Mellarks. I quickly stack the packages knowing that Peeta will open them this afternoon.

Soon enough it's time for me to shower and get dressed for work. I pack a light snack and drive over to Henion, my mood lifting with each mile marker I pass. Running into the bakery and throwing myself at Peeta isn't an option so I take deep breaths and will myself to calm down as I park my car and walk to the front entrance. The bell chimes and Rue smiles at me in greeting.

"Katniss! We weren't expecting to see you today! Come in, sweetie." Rue reaches out her arm and hugs me to her. "Peeta! Someone's here to see you!"

A moment later my husband walks through the swinging kitchen door, wiping his hands on a towel and smiling brightly at me. He walks over and kisses me a little too enthusiastically given the fact that his boss is right there. Rue clears her throat and I blush, hiding a little against Peeta's chest.

Best. Secret. Ever.

"Hey everyone, would you mind coming out here for a sec?" A few heads peep through the kitchen door. "We have an announcement."

Peeta holds me tightly around the waist and when everyone is gathered around he continues, "You all knew that Katniss and I were engaged. Well, we decided to make it official on Friday."

Cinna belts out a laugh and walks over to us while Rue gasps, "What?!"

I lift up my left hand and Peeta pulls the chain out from under his shirt. His coworkers gather around us and embrace us both in turn, exclaiming their surprise and congratulations. I pull the announcements and pictures out of my bag and hand them out as Peeta explains about our upcoming party.

"So the mystery behind the carrot cake is solved," laughs Cinna. "I've never seen someone so intent on frosting in my life, man."

A nervous laugh bubbles up and I squeeze Peeta's side. Frosting, indeed.

…

We pull up separately to Esselon but I quickly run over to Peeta's truck and wrap myself around him, kissing him repeatedly. And okay, a little desperately.

"Are you sure you have to go to work today?" Peeta's hands are grasping at my hips as I continue my assault on his lips.

I stop abruptly and smirk, "Oh, that's convenient. I recall asking you something rather similar this morning."

"But what am I supposed to do by myself?"

"You're acting like this is the first time you'll be home alone. I'm sure you'll survive. And dinner would be nice…something other than carbs?"

"Love me, love my carbs."

I laugh and peck his lips again before pulling his arm, leading him to the café. Johanna is leaning against the counter and Finnick is behind it measuring out espresso. Thresh's car is in the lot so I assume he's in the back office.

"Unless you've brought baked goods, you're not getting free coffee." Johanna frowns at Peeta's empty arms and I chuckle.

"Good thing I'm the guy pulling the shots then," says Finnick. He lifts his arm in a wave and Johanna scowls, turning her back to us. "What can I get you?"

"Just a regular cup, black. Thanks." Finnick shrugs but pours Peeta his drink.

I walk to the back office and call my boss' name. He lifts his head and smiles. "Hey Thresh! Do you have a minute? Can you come up front?"

Once everyone is present I blurt out, "So, we're married." Peeta laughs at my bluntness and squeezes my shoulders. "Yeah. Um, on Friday." I am such a tool.

Finnick's jaw is on the floor. "Does Annie know?!"

"Yeah, we called her right away—."

"Shit, are you pregnant?!" That's our Jo. Full of tact.

I bring my hand to my forehead and hold it there in frustration. "No, we most definitely aren't having a baby."

"Not yet." I turn and raise my eyebrows at Peeta. "Well, we aren't pregnant now. But we might be someday.

"The point—" I exclaim, my hands raised in frustration "—is that Peeta and I are married! Not pregnant, but married." I hold my breath and wait for a reaction. Any reaction. "Well?"

Finnick yells and Thresh laughs. I think Johanna might even smile a little and all at once we're pulled into hugs. The few customers in the café smile and offer their congratulations as well.

Amherst has embraced us yet again.

…

I speed a little on the way home and rush into the house, looking for Peeta. The smell of roasted chicken hits me the minute I walk in the door and I smile at the vision of my shirtless husband decked out in an apron. He's chopping veggies for a salad and there's fresh fruit salad on the table.

"Whatever you're making, it smells amazing. I'm starving." Wrapping my arms around him from behind, I sneak a cucumber and kiss his cheek as he slices.

"Well, I cheated with the rotisserie chicken from the store, but it's too warm to do much with the oven. Why don't you get comfy?"

I pat his butt and walk to the bathroom to wash up, then upstairs to change. By the time I head back to the kitchen the food is on the table and Peeta is pouring glasses of iced tea. He opens his arms and I walk into them.

He kisses me and murmurs, "Today went well."

"Mmmm. The cat's out of the bag and I love it. Except for everyone assuming I'm with child."

"We could work on that, you know."

"We're practicing, aren't we?" I pinch his earlobe gently and lean in for another kiss. "And you know what they say about practice making perfect."

"You know I've always wanted children, so consider me ready and willing when you are."

"Can we hold that thought for just a couple of years?" There's the slightest tinge of disappointment on his face but I rush to clarify. "The past year has been nothing but change. We're still getting settled here and figuring things out with our careers. I want children with you, but the selfish part of me wants you to myself for just a little bit before we turn everything upside down again. You know what I mean?"

Peeta's kisses almost convince me otherwise but he agrees. "You're have a point and I know we should wait a while. But we can still practice, right?"

"Why do you ask such silly questions?"

We sit at the table and begin to eat. Suddenly I remember the UPS delivery and I ask, "Did you see the boxes that came for you?"

He nods. "I think I've effectively been erased from the house." I tilt my head to the side in question and he says, "Mom packed everything up and sent it out here. Even down to the photos of me from the living room. See?" Peeta reaches over to the counter and grabs some pictures there, handing them to me. "She even took a picture of my old room, which has swiftly been converted to a craft nook."

"Oh, Peeta." I look at the photos one by one, not understanding how he could be so calm. The last photo—the one of the new crafting area—is a cruel reminder of how quickly he was cut out. "I didn't even know she was into that kind of stuff."

"She's not. I think that's the point. Without me cluttering up her house and life, she can embrace things like glitter and stamps and ribbons." He takes the photos from me and drops them back on the counter. "Should be interesting to see how they react to the news, then."

"Hey." I stand up and step over to his chair. Straddling his waist I pull him to me and he rests his chin on my shoulder. "I love you." I hold him for a few minutes before I ask, "Will you let me go through the boxes with you? I bet there are a few stories I haven't heard." I can feel him nod his head.

Eventually I reach behind me for the bowl of fresh fruit and put a raspberry in my mouth. I offer Peeta a strawberry and he smiles, opening his mouth as I pop the berry inside. The bowl is now nestled between us on our laps and we take turns tracing the fruits around each other's lips before feeding one another.

"Fruit might be a nice switch up from cake." Peeta catches a drip of juice on my chin with his mouth while I laugh.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. I was dealing with cake remnants all morning. The line has been drawn, Mellark. Food's out for now."

He pouts. "Cinna wasn't lying, you know. I was nuts about that frosting."

"Oh, I don't doubt that. I was there for the tasting, remember?"

…

Slowly but surely we begin getting responses from our out-of-town guests. Annie and Prim will be flying in together; my mother won't be able to make it after all. To say I'm a tiny bit disappointed would be accurate, but I refuse to let her absence put a damper on our celebration. Rye will be coming, but there's no word from Peeta's parents one way or the other. There's a part of me that hopes that Mr. Mellark will find a way to give his blessing to his son, but I try to stay neutral for Peeta's benefit.

Going through the boxes of his things has been both therapeutic and traumatic, depending on the contents. We have enough sweatpants to clothe a few rec basketball teams and Peeta is ecstatic to have his old sketchbooks back, including my favorite one from his nightstand. He takes a smaller box and wraps up trophies and framed pictures, saving them for another time. The photo of the new craft area is thrown away, along with cards his mom saved from his childhood birthdays. I think that the Mellark's bakery apron is a little mean, but Peeta just hangs it in the kitchen with his others.

A sealed envelope causes the biggest heartbreak: it contains things like his birth certificate, baptismal documents, report cards, crayon drawings he made for his parents and awards he earned over the years. That offering leaves Peeta crying in my arms, knowing that his mother was wiping her hands of everything he had accomplished. No number of awards mattered, anyway. Every gesture was turned away.

"Peeta," I try to soothe. "Peeta. You matter to me."

That envelope is resealed and finds a spot in his den.

A card comes from Eugene, Oregon: Gale. His note of congratulations is meaningful to us both, but I suspect that his words hold more significance to Peeta. Our friend is making plans to join everyone in Amherst in a few weeks, a gesture neither of us will ever forget.

We never hear from Madge, whether that's because her address has changed or her schedule doesn't permit, we don't know. Still, the group that can make it is made up of friends and family who have helped shape us into the people we are, and for that we're grateful.

Days later, when the announcement originally sent to Peeta's parents arrives in our mailbox with "return to sender" scratched on the envelope, I simply throw it away without burdening my husband with their answer.

Author's Note: thanks to e-marina for giving this the thumbs up. This is the first chapter that wasn't written in advance, which signals the beginning of the end of this fic. I believe there will be another two chapters and that's it! Whichever way you choose to do it, my sincere thanks to everyone for sending your feedback.