Seasons of Wither, Chapter 25
I stand in front of the cracked, full-length mirror in the corner of my old bedroom as my mother stands behind me, her nimble fingers working my hair into a braid. She tucks in strands of hair, pinning them until the elaborate braid looks neat a precise. It doesn't exactly match the aging, slightly-yellowed knee-length dress that I'm wearing, but somehow I look presentable.
Mother smiles at my reflection in the mirror while Prim bounces up and down where she sits on the mattress of her bed.
"You're so pretty!"
I smile. "I guess I'll do."
My mother tsks, cupping my jaw in her hand. "Always so modest, Katniss. You look beautiful; so mature."
She takes an old pearl necklace from the jewelry box on her dresser, stringing it around my neck. It's the same one she's wearing in the wedding photo that still sits on the mantel above our fireplace. It contrasts nicely against my dark skin, but it makes the old fabric of the lace dress I'm wearing look even more discolored.
"Tradition," she tells me, spinning me around to take me in. "Is Gale ready?"
"Hazelle had a time trying to wake him this morning. He worked late."
"Phacelia?"
"I nursed her before I came over. Hazelle seemed to be having some success in soothing her before I left."
"Good," my mother says, leaning over to slip on her nicest dress shoes. "Maybe she'll be a bit less fussy today."
"Don't count on it," I tell her with a smile. My child is healthy, but she's a crier. My mother assures me that colic ends at three months of age, but we're only six weeks in and the crying seems like it never stops.
My sister and I follow my mother to the Hawthorne's house, our arms linked together.
When we arrive, Hazelle's moving about the kitchen in a flurry, busily preparing the dinner we'll be feasting on when we return from the Justice Building. We didn't have the money to buy a cake, or even a decent baker's loaf of bread, but we've made do. A large pot of stew is bubbling on the stove as Hazelle throws in the last handful of vegetables.
"Should be done about the time we get back," she tells us.
Prim and Mother help her clean up the kitchen a bit as I look for Gale. I find him sleeping with Phacelia on the sofa in their sitting room, fully dressed in his reaping day clothing—the only outfit he owns that isn't covered in soot from the mines. They still fit him though. Sort of.
I smile as I stand over his slumbering figure, our tiny infant daughter lying on his chest with Gale's large palm splayed out protectively over her tiny back. Her cheek is pressed against her father's heart, her lips parting slightly as she sleeps. Phacelia has grown over the past month and a half, but she's still tiny.
I nudge Gale slightly as not to startle him or our slumbering daughter. His eyes blink open, and he offers me a tired smile.
"You're spoiling her rotten letting her sleep with you like that," I tell him.
He raises his eyebrows at me. "So?"
I grin. "So no wonder she won't sleep in her cradle at night."
He sits up, holding Phacelia steadily against his chest as he takes in my appearance.
"I never thought I'd see the day," he tells me, shaking his head and rubbing some of the sleepiness out of his eyes. He's cleaned up nicely—has even found the time for a decent shave—though he still has a severe case of bedhead.
I look down at my dress, smoothing my hands over it self-consciously. It still tugs awkwardly around my misshapen midsection, and for once I have the ample bust for filling out the top. I still don't feel like my old self, but I'm getting there.
"Things have changed," I tell him, holding my arms out for our daughter. I settle her into my lap, and instantly she begins fussing and rooting. I'd just fed her two hours ago, but Phacelia seems to be going through a growth spurt this week, nursing around the clock. Most of Hazelle's old sleepers are still much too big on her, and at this point, my little girl needs all the growth spurts she can get.
I reach back, tugging down the zipper on the back of my dress and pulling down the shoulder just enough to latch her onto my breast.
Nursing in front of Gale was awkward at first, but I got over my insecurities about it rather quickly. It's just part of my life now.
My hand strokes the back of her head as she nurses.
"Did she fuss?" I ask Gale.
"Just until she fell asleep," he tells me with a slight smile. Maybe all of the crying we've been putting up with for the past several weeks would be the cause of more stress if it hadn't been for my less-than-successful delivery. Now I'm just happy to be alive to hear her cry.
"My mother says she'll outgrow it in a few weeks."
"Then she'll be teething, and crawling, and talking, and walking," Gale says, reaching over to allow her to curl her tiny hand around his finger as she drinks hungrily.
"One day at a time, Gale," I mutter, not wanting to think too much about her growing up right now, not when growing up means reapings. "One day at a time."
…
It's the first warm day in a long time, melting most of the snow that has accumulated over the past few weeks. But it won't be long before the temperatures dip below freezing again and another snowstorm hits. We've been lucky to have enough to eat so far in a winter this bitter (though none of us would complain if our portion sizes were larger), and hopefully that luck will hold out until spring.
Our families walk together to the Justice Building, chattering happily and glad to finally be out of the house after weeks of being cooped up. When my mother holds the door open for us to follow, I take Gale's elbow, holding him back and motioning to my mother that I'll be a minute.
Gale looks perplexed as we watch our families enter the building without us and I pull him to sit with me on the bench out front.
"It's hard to find a moment alone with you anymore," I tell him with a smile that puts him at ease.
"Well, we'll have plenty of that with our own house," he tells me, wrapping an arm over my shoulders.
The past few weeks have been hectic. We've gone back and forth between my house and Gale's, depending who had room for us at the time. When it was freezing out, Hazelle had to hang her laundry throughout the house, so we went to my mother's. When a flu epidemic broke out, obviously we couldn't have Phacelia around that, so we had gone back to Hazelle's. I would be lying if I said that the house the government would be issuing us today wasn't the answer to a lot of our problems. Gale knows this too.
"Before we do this," I begin, allowing Gale to take my hand into his larger one. "I need you to know that I'm not doing it for the house, or our mothers, or anything else. It's been a rough few weeks trying to figure out where we belong."
Gale rubs his calloused thumb over the back of my hand as I speak.
"But I'm doing this because I love you, and for no other reason," I tell him. "My nightmares have reminded me what it would be like to have to live my life without you," I go on, choking up slightly. But I am not going to cry at my wedding, I tell myself, and I'm not going to think about death on a day like today. "And that's not a life worth living."
Despite myself, I do cry. This time it's not because of pregnancy hormones or anything like that; it's because I think that Gale and I finally deserve to be happy together. With so many things working against us, we've managed to pull through one of the toughest periods of our lives. I know that nothing will ever be perfect or easy for us, but I do know that as long as we're together we can make it through anything.
Gale holds my face, brushing his fingertips over my cheeks in an unsuccessful attempt wipe away the tears that only continue to flow. "I know, Catnip. I'm not planning on going anywhere, and I love you too."
…
There's nothing romantic about the signing of the marriage papers that takes place at the Justice Building. It's just filling out a bunch of legal forms. Once Gale and I both sign, along with a witness, we are given the address of our new house and our very own key, which we also sign for.
Our new home is only a few doors down from my mother's, and Gale is already familiar with the place.
"It's Quincy Roland's old place," Gale tells me as we leave the Justice Building. Quincy is a widower who died in the mines last spring, which I try not to think about. "It's not a bad place," he goes on, "but I already know there's a leak in the roof that'll need to be fixed sooner than later. I hate to put our dinner on hold, but I might need to pick up a few things from the hardware shop so I can work on it tomorrow."
I nod. Prim, Rory, and Vick had spent all of yesterday helping me pack our things just so we could move them in this evening. I knew that wherever we ended up would probably need a thorough cleaning along with a few repairs. Homes are usually left untouched until the next tenant takes over, and whatever damage there might be to the home is also the responsibility of its new owner.
"You can run ahead, if you want," Gale tells me as I shift Phacelia so that she's lying in my other arm. She's not the least bit heavy, but I have been carrying her for awhile now.
"No. We should walk together."
Our mothers and siblings leave for home to check on dinner as I follow Gale through the merchant district. We attract a lot of attention from some of the other residents as we make our way through the square dressed in our wedding clothes, especially Haymitch Abernathy, who is carrying an armful of bottles out of the Apothecary shop and who nods his head towards Gale with a smirk as we pass.
Gale responds with a groan, placing his hand on the small of my back as we quicken our pace.
As we eventually make our way past the bakery, I glance up to see Peeta working behind the counter. Gale's gaze instantly follows mine to where Peeta is bagging a woman's purchase and handing her a handful of change.
I ponder whether I should go in and talk to him. It doesn't look like anyone else is in the front right now, and I know from our previous trades with Mr. Mellark that Peeta's mother prefers to spend her Saturday afternoons shopping.
"I'll meet you at the hardware shop in a few minutes?" I finally ask Gale as I turn my gaze away from the bakery. His eyes dart from mine back to Peeta uncertainly before nodding.
Gale has to know that I can't just go on pretending like Peeta hadn't helped me last month after I'd gone into labor. Coming from the Seam, Gale too knows what it's like to owe someone. I'll probably never be able to truly repay Peeta, but I find myself unable to pass by the bakery without at least showing him my gratitude. Five years of not having thanked him for the bread he'd given me when I was starving has already been eating at me, and there's no way I can't overlook the fact that he'd saved both the life of myself and my baby.
I approach the front door apprehensively as I watch Peeta work to refill a case in the front with turnovers. As I enter, the bell on the door jingles, alerting him of a new customer, and his head snaps up as I step inside.
He looks surprised to see me, especially considering how I'm currently dressed, and backs away from the case as I slowly approach him.
"Katniss?"
"Hello, Peeta," I tell him lamely, because I have no idea what else to say—how to even begin thanking him for what he's done for me.
"I-," he begins nervously, reaching down to wipe his hands on his apron. "You never came back to school. I wasn't sure if everything had gone okay. I never heard any different." His gaze falls on the sleeping baby in my arms as he talks. "I guess it did," he adds quietly.
I bite my lip, because when I ran through how this would go in my mind, it was nowhere near as awkward.
"This is Phacelia," I finally tell him when I notice that he's staring, pulling back her blanket so that he can see her face. "She's six weeks old now."
Peeta peers over my shoulder and down at my daughter, smiling slightly. "She's beautiful, Katniss. She looks just like you," he adds. I'm sure it's just to be nice, since there's really no telling if she favors Gale or myself at this age.
I turn to him. "Do you want to hold her?" I ask.
"Um, I-" he begins, but I'm already placing her into his arms. Peeta's entire body stiffens once I've shifted her weight into his grasp, and I wonder if this is the first time he's ever held a baby. He stares at me for a minute before his eyes finely fall onto the sleeping bundle in his arms, the corners of his mouth turning up into a genuine smile.
"She likes you," I say.
He's still grinning when he looks up at me. "How can you tell? She's sleeping."
"Because she hasn't woken up screaming yet," I tell him with a smile.
Peeta shakes his head, chuckling a little. He extends his fingertip to carefully and softly touch the soft skin of Phacelia's clenched fist. "She's so tiny. I guess I'd forgotten how small babies are. Did you know that my brother's wife will be having a baby in the spring?"
I shake my head. "No. I didn't know that. You'll make a good uncle, Peeta."
"Yeah. I guess so," he says, and we both fall silent for a moment as he takes in the wonder of the new life he's holding in his hands.
"You really did save me that day, you know," I tell him, causing him to glance up at me.
Peeta shakes his head.
"I just carried you home, Katniss."
"You helped me when no one else would."
"Well," he begins, looking down at Phacelia and holding her more securely to him. "It shouldn't have had to be that way."
"You've been so nice to me even when you've never had a reason to be," I begin, and my voice wavers slightly.
When he finally looks back up at me, his eyes look sad.
"I guess what I'm really trying to say is thank you," I tell him, but somehow it still feels like it will never be enough. "For the bread, for offering to help me in school, for carrying me home when no one could even bring themselves to even look at me. I'm not sure that I ever deserved any of it, but-"
"Katniss," Peeta suddenly interrupts me, exhaling a deep breath and shaking his head in disagreement before deciding to proceed. "I'm sorry."
I frown. "What in the world do you have to be sorry for?"
He grimaces slightly. "I feel like I overstepped a boundary at some point. I knew what you had with...with Gale," he goes on. "I didn't want to come between that; you have to know that I would never try to. But when I saw that you were struggling, it's like I couldn't help myself. I thought it would make a difference. But he always took such good care of you, I could see that. I guess..." He shakes his head, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. "I guess maybe I also used it as an excuse to be close to you for once. I'm sure it was dumb now—to think that you needed me to take care of you at all."
So Gale was right, Peeta did have some sort of feelings for me.
And now here he is, apologizing for having them. The realization makes me feel nothing but guilt.
"Peeta, you saved my life," I tell him when he can't bring himself to look at me. "There were complications. Did you know that I nearly died that day? And I very well would have if you wouldn't have gotten me home in time. You're the only one at school other than Madge who'd made anything even close to tolerable for me. Don't regret anything you ever did for me, Peeta, because I don't. You were a friend when I needed one, and things would've ended up so much worse had you not been there that afternoon."
Peeta nods quietly. "Then I'm glad that I was," he answers, pausing for a moment. "Well then, I guess all sorts of congratulations are due today," he finally says, motioning towards my dress. "You've got your own family now."
I look down at my dress, smiling and blushing slightly. Gale and I are married now, but somehow it doesn't really feel official yet. Not until the meal with our family and the toasting later tonight that really makes it official.
Peeta places Phacelia carefully back into my arms.
"Wait a minute," he tells me as he walks behind the counter, retrieving a wrapped loaf of freshly-baked bread and holding it out towards me. "A gift to celebrate?"
"Peeta, I can't-"
"You can," he interrupts me. "And you owe my dad a couple of squirrels come spring," he adds with a smile.
Grinning, I finally accept his gift.
"Thank you."
"Will I see you back at school soon?" he asks, and I shake my head.
"But maybe in town in the spring," I tell him. "With those squirrels."
I know that it's wishful thinking on my part.
Peeta bids me farewell and I meet Gale out front of the bakery.
We take our first walk home together as a married couple. As a family.
…
We have a grand dinner once we get back to Hazelle's—a stew made of butcher meat (a fattier cut) and potatoes and carrots (canned, from the dented quick-sale shelf, of course), along with a compact loaf of bread made from tesserae grain. It's not the food but the people who make it special. But let's face it, everything's better when there's enough food to satisfy everyone.
"Can I stay the night at your guys's house tonight?" Posy asks Gale and I not two seconds after we've finished eating dinner and Vick is loading up a wagon with the things we'll need at the new house right away. Most of them are for Phacelia, since Gale and I have always been able to make do with very little.
"Not tonight, Posy," Rory scolds his little sister. "They want to be alone so they can consummate their marriage," he tells her, causing Gale to drag the palm of his hand down his face in anguish. "Oh, right," he adds, smirking at his older brother, and poor little Posy looks just as confused as ever.
"I think I'll miss you most of all, Rory," Gale says sarcastically, heaving one of the boxes that wouldn't fit into the little red wagon up into his arms. Luckily, our home is already furnished, so all we really had to bring was our clothing and a few other personal items.
Eventually we reach our destination—the old house that Gale and I will now call our own. Sure enough, even though it hasn't even been abandoned for a year, it looks run-down. Gale grimaces up towards the roof.
"Will you have time to fix it?" I ask him.
"Not tonight," he answers. "But we'll make do. Thom promised to lend a hand tomorrow if we need it."
He places the box that he's holding down on the bottom step and Vick begins to unpack the wagon while Rory uses the key, attempting to free the latch of the rusted lock. Prim takes Phalecia from my arms and, without warning, Gale heaves me up into his arms, causing her to laugh behind me. I am so taken off-guard that I emit a sudden yelp at his action.
"Gale!" I warn, tensing in his arms.
"It's tradition, Catnip," he insists, nodding back towards our families, who serenade us with the traditional toasting song as we cross the threshold of the house.
"Because this is such a traditional marriage," I say as he sets me down on the worn floorboards once we are inside.
Gale cups the back of my head, tilting it back slightly so that we can share our first married kiss in our very own house.
"At least wait until we've left to do that!" Rory yells from outside, and Gale waves him away.
It doesn't take long to unpack our things with all of the help that's accompanied us. Hazelle sets up Phacelia's cradle in the corner of the bedroom while Mother and Prim begin a thorough dusting and sweeping of the house. Rory and Vick help Gale carry the heavier boxes into the house as Posy helps me unpack them. Soon, our house is presentable enough to be inhabited for the night.
We didn't bring a whole lot in terms of food, since our families have found it to be much more economical to gather at one house for dinner, but already our house feels like a home.
Gale is building up the fire as our families prepare to leave. Everyone's tired from the long day, the younger kids rubbing their weary eyes as they pull their winter coats back on.
"We're just down the road," my mother tells me as I'm seeing her towards the door. "If you need anything at all, even if it's in the middle of the night-"
"I know," I say with a smile since we'd went over this earlier today. I allow her to pull me into her arms, and I tightly hug her back. "Congratulations," she murmurs into my hair.
"Thank you."
Prim is next to hug me, and I find myself unable to let go, even tearing up a bit at her departure.
"I'll miss being woke up by your nightmares," she says.
"I'll miss your cold feet," I tell her.
We're laughing and hugging and crying all at the same time.
"I'll come watch Phacelia tomorrow so you can take a nap," she adds.
I push her at arm's length, tugging playfully on both of her braids.
"I miss you already."
…
Once Phacelia is down for the night (or in her case, for just a few hours), Gale and I hold a slice of the baker's bread that Peeta had given me earlier over the fire with metal tongs until it's perfectly browned. It's unreal how far Gale and I come in just a year. Last winter we were nothing more than hunting partners and friends, relying on one another to help keep our families alive, and now we have a little family of our own.
Life is happier, but we're still facing all of the obstacles we did all of those months ago. I worry about keeping Prim in school so that someday in the future maybe she'll have the opportunity to do something great. I haven't exactly set the best example for her by dropping out myself, but I know that someone as special as Prim was meant to do more than work in the mines or become a housewife.
I worry about my mother's depression, even though she's shown me that she is here for me now. I wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for her quick thinking that saved my life only six weeks ago. I guess we've come a long way, and the bond between us that was once broken has begun to mend itself. I feel like I can rely on her now as both a mother and a grandmother.
Then there's the mines and the lives they take every year and knowing that there's a possibility that Gale's could someday be one of them. I want so badly for there to be another option for him in the future. Who knows? Maybe there will be.
And I especially worry about the reaping and Prim and Rory with their extra slips. There's also my 20 plus slips and the fact that I have more people relying on me to stay alive now. I have two more reapings to endure, but it's so far out of my control that I try not to think about it. Of course, once the time comes again, it will be all that I think about.
No, there's still plenty of things to worry about, only now Gale and I are facing them all together.
I watch Gale's handsome face glow from the fire as he turns to me, offering the slice of bread with a grin.
Gale, who has enough fire in him to fight for what he believes in, but a certain gentleness that he reserves only for the ones in his life who he loves the most. A boy that's turned into a man over the past few years before my very eyes, and has proved time and time again that he would do anything for the people that he cares about. He's the one person that I've always felt I could depend on.
"Not bad, huh?" he asks me.
I nod, but I'm not looking at the toast.
"Yes, but I'm actually not very hungry," I tell him, moving the tongs away and placing them on the stone base of the fireplace. Gale watches me as I stand, raising his eyebrows.
"Oh?" he asks, rising from the floor to join me.
I shake my head, taking his hand into mine and pulling him towards our bedroom.
There's a bit of apprehension—we haven't done this in so long. But we find our way quickly enough. My rental dress pools to the floor around my ankles and Gale's reaping day clothes are thrown carelessly aside as we find our way to the bed.
And then he's looming over me, pushing my loose hair from my face and looking into my eyes.
"I can't believe you're my wife," he says, and I smile.
"I can't believe you're my husband," I tell him.
We come together in a way that's old and new—exciting yet familiar. And, now that I've experienced it firsthand, it's hard to believe that there was ever a time when I doubted I could fall in love.