Chapter 13

1 week after

I get off the phone to the funeral directors after confirming the arrangements for today. For the past week I have kept myself busy arranging flower decorations, selecting hymns and consulting with lawyers as I prepare for the final goodbye to my father. I put the phone down on a nearby table and move on to my next task; get Mom presentable.

I push open her bedroom door to find Prim has just managed to coax her out of bed. Prim hovers over our mom as she sits staring blankly into the vanity mirror. Prim looks up at me pained when I enter and I know it must have taken a lot of persuading to get Mom out of bed. I move over beside them and place a gentle hand on Prim's shoulder.

"I've got this," I tell her softly. "Darius is downstairs waiting for you."

Prim gives me a sad smile, kisses the top of our mom's head and tells her she will see her soon. She then gives me a gentle squeeze before going downstairs to seek comfort from her boyfriend.

Darius has been a real rock for Prim these last few days. Any notion that this relationship is still casual flew out the window on Friday night. He arranged time off work so he could stay here with us as we sorted things out. He has always been there when she breaks down in the kitchen while she cleans up Dad's favourite mug. With Mom being absent he has been Prim's main source of comfort.

I move behind my mother and pick up a brush to begin gently untangling the knots in her hair. She doesn't even blink as I begin stroking the brush through her greying strands.

"Dad's old band mates are going to play at the funeral today," I say. "They have put together a compilation of his favourite songs."

Mom still doesn't say anything or acknowledge what I have said in anyway. After a week of silence I am no longer surprised.

Mom hasn't uttered a single sound since Dad died. Even her tears have been silent. She just lies silent in her room only moving when Prim and I force her too. She has lost all meaning to her life and I feel like I lost 2 parents on that dreadful Friday night. Our mother has become as good as a ghost.

Her mental state has caused great distress to Prim. Prim has always been closer to Mom and being younger seeks out our mom to make things better. But instead she is left with an unresponsive shadow. She sits and begs her to move or respond in anyway so we can begin healing together. But Mom just looks right through us ignoring all of Prim's pleas. The doctor says there is not much we can do, that everyone handles grief in different ways and that we can only hope it will get better in time. I shouted at him when he told us that. I don't want to have to live on mere hope that she is going to snap out of it. I need my mother back for Prim.

When it became clear that my mother was not going to be able to handle any of the post death arrangements I took control of everything. I allowed myself one day to wallow in grief and pain before I pushed it all aside and began making the appropriate arrangements. It gave me something to focus on and meant I am never left alone with my thoughts for long. Whenever I find myself stopping to pause memories come flooding back and it all becomes too overwhelming as the thought of never making new memories with Dad again resurface.

I just miss him.

And I know one day I will be able to look back on the memories with fondness, but right now it is all too raw for me to handle. I am terrified for the time after the funeral where I have nothing left but my memories to focus on.

I slowly brush my mother's hair and put it up into an elaborate braid that she used to do for me on special occasions. She stares into the mirror the whole time as I help her get dressed into a demure black dress and slip on a pair of sturdy flat shoes. I stand in front of her once I am finished and tuck a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear.

"I miss him to Mom, but I really need you here today. Prim needs you," I say.

She blinks once and I try not to let my disappointment at her non-response show. I really wish she'd be here today. It's tiring having to hold it together for everyone.

I gently guide her out the room and take her to the top of the stairs so we can go down and wait for the cars to arrive. However just as we are about to start our descent the doorbell rings. I frown. The cars aren't due for another 15 minutes. I don't want to have to be in that church any longer than I have to.

Darius goes to answer the door. But instead of the car company I catch a glimpse of messy curls and blue eyes. Immediately I jerk back behind the banister, hoping he hasn't seen me.

I can hear his voice drift up the stairs.

"Is Katniss around?" I hear him say.

Through the banisters I spy Darius turn round to look at Prim at Peeta's question. I see Prim give a gentle shake of the head. Darius sighs and turns back to face Peeta.

"Sorry, she's busy right now," Darius says sympathetically.

I see the disappointment in Peeta's eyes as he hangs his head and nods in understanding.

"Can you just tell her I am thinking about her and am here if she needs me," Peeta replies dejectedly.

My heart clenches at the pain I hear in his voice.

"And give her these. I thought they would be a good reminder for today," he adds.

Darius tells him of course he will and Peeta gives a polite goodbye before turning and traipsing down the steps. Prim and Darius both stand at the bottom of the stairs looking up at me with Darius holding a bunch of dandelions in his hands.

"Did you hear most of that?" Prim asks.

I nod my head, my eyes glued on the yellow flowers Darius clutches.

"He just wants to help you," Prim adds looking at me sympathetically.

I don't respond to her statement. I told her the day after Dad died how our whole relationship had been fake and we had been having sex when Dad died. She knows the guilt I feel about not being there for Dad. She knows that makes seeing Peeta difficult.

I haven't spoken to him since that night in the hospital. I had cried hysterically after he had left, only calming down once Prim and Mom came back from the café. I was just so angry at him for everything that happened. I couldn't separate him from the fact I had missed my dad's final hours. I had truly hated him in that moment.

However as the raw pain of Dad's death begins to fade I realise he is not to blame for what happened. He didn't force me to sleep with him. If anything I was the one who initiated it. I needed someone to blame to try and ease the guilt I was feeling and Peeta was the obvious choice. But even knowing that he isn't to blame doesn't make seeing him any less painful.

I had been doing a pretty good job of not thinking about him. Prim and I have stayed with Mom at our old family home this past week so I have been spared from seeing him back at my apartment. Madge has told me he has found a new place and will have moved out by the time I decide to go back. While I have occasionally let my walls down and grieved for my dad, I have flatly refused to even contemplate Peeta. I am just not ready to deal with all the emotions he brings up on top of everything else. Yet with one stupid bunch of dandelions all my hard work has gone to waste. I feel my heart crack at the thought of him.

I walk down the stairs, grab the flowers out of Darius's hands and march into the kitchen without looking at my sister.

I grab a clear vase from one of the kitchen cabinets and fill it with water before sticking the bunch of dandelions in it and placing it on the counter top. I grip the edge of the counter while staring at the bunch of flowers in front of me. Their presence is enough to bring up a swirl of emotions I have been so good at keeping at bay this past week. He knows what these flowers mean to me. How I have always linked them to Dad and the sense of hope.

I am transported back in time to when I was 5 years old and Dad took me on my first camping trip. We had set up camp, not far from the main track, and while Dad had started making the fire, I had run about collecting some of the golden flowers that were dotted around the site. I had rushed up to Dad with my hands filled with the little flowers and presented them to him. I can still remember the knowing smile Dad gave me when he saw what I had gathered for him. He had lent down and taken the flowers off me.

"Do you know these flowers are special? They saved my life," he had said.

I had frowned at him, confused.

"How did they do that?" I had asked.

"I was really hungry just after your grandfather had died. Your grandma had very little money for food for me and your aunts and uncles. We really needed food. And then one day I noticed these flowers in the garden and I realised we could eat. I picked as many as I could and made a soup for all your aunts and uncles. They gave me hope that things could be better and we didn't go hungry again after that," he had explained.

A tear drops down my cheek now. I have never forgotten that story. I know what Peeta is trying to say with these flowers. That no matter how bad our losses, things can be good again. In my head I know that to be true. I just can't picture it right now.

I harshly wipe away the tears that are now streaming down my face with the back of my hand. This day is about Dad. Not my issues with Peeta.

I compose myself and walk back through to the hallway to check up on my mom and Prim.

The cars arrive shortly after, the car at the front carrying the mahogany coffin that will be my father's final resting place. The coffin has been surrounded with the many wild flowers that surround our home. Seeing the coffin makes this all the more real. My dad will never leave that box.

Darius helps Mom and Prim into the car and I slide into the front, my eyes locked on the box in the car in front of us.

All too soon we arrive at the church where my uncles and some of my dad's work buddies are waiting outside ready to carry my dad in. I step out the car and nod my head in thanks to them as I go to support Mom, who Prim has managed to coax out the car. My arms wrap tightly around Mom's shoulders as Darius holds on to Prim. The coffin is lifted onto the shoulders of the men in front and we are finally ready to enter the place where we will say goodbye.

The solemn music starts and we follow mournfully into the church.

Inside we are met with sympathetic stares and sad smiles. I give them thankful smiles back as I continue to clutch onto Mom who is now trembling beside me. I pass Madge and Johanna on the way down and they both give me a sombre smile. I give them an appreciative smile back but quickly turn away when I am met with the mournful gaze of the blue eyed man I have tried to forget this past week.

I take a deep breath as we take the last few steps to our seats at the front, gently placing Mom in one of the pews and taking a seat next to her. There is a pause as the men put down the coffin and the minister waits for everyone to compose themselves. After a few moments he clears his throat and begins the ceremony.

The minister is the same one that married my parents and christened both Prim and I. He has been a family friend to Mom's family for years and as a result knew my dad well. His kind words about Dad are enough to bring the tears back into my mother's eyes and I hold onto her tightly, desperately trying to comfort her and keep myself together at the same time.

Soon the minister is asking me to come up to give my eulogy. Uncle Haymitch had offered to do it but I was adamant it should be one of my family. We were the ones who knew him best and I don't think anyone else can do him justice.

I pry myself away from my mother and make my way shakily up the steps, clutching my cue cards in an iron grip in my hands. I get to the top and turn round to face the crowd of solemn faces. I have never been good at speaking about my feelings. As I see my own grief being mirrored back at me I feel my resolve begin to crumble. The words on the cards no longer seem good enough and I can feel the grief rising up my body, threatening to overcome and break me.

I search the crowd for a friendly face to help ground me and get me through this. It doesn't take long for my gaze to latch onto Madge's and she gives me a reassuring smile. I don't let my gaze shift to the blonde man on her right, but I can feel his blue gaze on me, willing me to get through this. I know one look at him will be enough to make me completely crumble. I take a deep breath before finally speaking.

"I'm not great with words," I start, my eyes on my cue cards. "Many of you would use different words to describe my dad. Drinking buddy, work colleague, husband, brother, archery champion, hunter, poacher…"

A small mummer of chuckles break out as people remember how my dad met my mom in the first place. I let a small smile grace my face at this.

"But to me he was Dad. But even that word is not good enough to describe everything he was to me. He was my cheerleader, disciplinarian, teacher, shoulder to cry on, hunting buddy," I pause as I compose myself for the last word on the list. "And most importantly my best friend."

I look at the crowd now and see a mixture of tears and sad smiles. I can feel my own tears brimming in the corners of my eyes.

"There is nothing else I can really say except that I love you Dad and I miss you," I finish.

I cannot hold the tears back any longer and the first one slips down my cheek as I make my way back to my family. Prim is waiting there for me with puffy eyes and sad smile and pulls me in for a tight embrace as I sit back down. I squeeze her close to me as I let the tears roll down my cheeks.

The rest of the ceremony goes by in a blur. More words are said, song are sung and my dad is escorted out the church and round to the cemetery out back. Prim, Mom and I huddle together as we watch him being lowered into the ground. The finality of the earth being scattered on top is enough to remind me that he is really gone. I have to say goodbye.

"Goodbye Daddy," I say as I scatter the dirt on top.

It's time to let him go.

I spend the reception afterwards chatting to other mourners and listening to all their stories about Dad. I thought this would be depressing, but I can't help but smile at their stories of him being chased by a bear and getting drunk at his bachelor party. It reminds me of how many people loved and admired him.

An hour in Madge, Delly and Johanna come up to me and all three pull me in for a comforting hug. I hug them back tightly, so grateful they are here.

"I thought your eulogy was perfect," Madge says. "Simple and heartfelt."

I smile at her gratefully and try to stop the tears from spilling from my eyes again.

"Thanks. I didn't think there were enough words to really do him justice," I reply.

"There never is," Delly replies rubbing a soothing hand on my back. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

I shake my head. "Just being here is enough."

They all smile sadly at me and we fall into an easy silence. They have all be very helpful this past week. Delly has helped me arrange flowers and cars, Jo took me to kick boxing to try and work out some of my grief and Madge has listened to me as I struggled to come to terms with what has happened. I couldn't have done this without them.

Johanna's eyes shift round the room, looking at the other mourners when her eyes land on a forlorn Peeta. She turns back to look at me a question in her eyes.

"Are you going to tell us what happened between you and hot buns, or are we going to have to continue to watch you both mope about and ignore whatever it was that happened?" she asks.

"Johanna!" Delly scolds. "Now is not the time!"

"Oh come on. Why not now? Last I heard, Katniss was seen flirting like a pro and actually acting like her age for once. Then bam! Something happens and baby blues over there looks like you have shot his puppy!" Johanna replies.

I am a bit shocked she has brought it up here but Johanna was never one for tack. Peeta has kept his distance at the funeral, though I have felt his eyes on me throughout the entire day. But this day is about Dad, not my unresolved issues with him.

"I don't know what else you want to know. I'm sure he told you everything that happened," I reply bitterly looking at Madge.

I've lived with Madge for 9 years. I know she and Peeta tell each other everything when it comes to their relationships. But to my surprise Madge shakes her head and looks at me sadly.

"He's just said that he fell in love with you that week but he screwed it up," she replies. I try not to let the surprise show in my eyes. "He's miserable Katniss. I've never seen him like this. He barely talks to me. He spends all his time painting and it's not his usual stuff. I can see the heartbreak on the canvas. He asks about you at least 10 times a day. It's killing him that he can't be there for you."

I don't know how to respond. He had told me at the hospital that he loved me but in my grief induced state I couldn't comprehend it. Hearing Madge describe him as a heartbroken shell unnerves me. I don't know how to handle those types of feelings. I can't handle them right now.

The girls all stare at me waiting for some answers. Although I told Prim, I couldn't quite bring myself to tell them. I was too embarrassed. I could hear the "I told you so's" about the whole arrangement ending badly. And I am unsure exactly how Madge will react. He is her brother after all.

"I slept with him. Right when dad was going into cardiac arrest. I missed Dad's final moments because I was with him," I finally reply.

Understanding floods their features as they finally put all the pieces together. Thankfully none of them say anything more and they pull me in for another hug. I sigh as they hold me close. I don't want to have to deal with all the emotions Peeta stirs in me.

Slowly our house begins to empty as the guests start to leave. All pass on their condolences as they go. Glimmer is one of the last to leave and pulls me in for a tight hug as she does.

She has been surprisingly good throughout this whole week. The moment she found out Dad had died she cancelled the wedding and came rushing over with ice cream and tissues. She should be on her honeymoon in Fiji right now, but she insisted it wouldn't have felt right getting married when the rest of her family were in mourning. I didn't think she had the ability to be so mature. This was the same woman who threw a strop when she didn't win a silly competition earlier in the week.

I return her hug gratefully and thank her for all her support. She gives me another tight squeeze before leaving with and arm wrapped around Cato. I tightness forms in my chest as I watch her leave with him. I refuse to acknowledge that it is because I ache for a certain man to hold me like that.

Once all the guests have left, Prim, Darius and I make a start on tidying up and squeezing the endless line of casseroles into the fridge and freezer. Mom sits at the kitchen table, still having not uttered a single sound all day. Prim and I sit with her for a while after drinking tea. But it is hard to sit with her when she is so unresponsive. I see Prim's eyes begin to droop as all the emotions of the day catch up with her and Darius offers to take her to bed. She nods tiredly and he supports her as they make their way upstairs.

Now that everyone is gone I feel the grief consuming me again. There is no funeral to distract me from missing Dad and the emptiness in the house causes the loneliness to take center stage. I desperately want my mom to say something so I can stop feeling so alone.

Prim has placed the bunch of dandelions on the kitchen table and Mom stares at them now as if trying to figure out how they got there.

"Your dad gave me dandelions on our first date," she states.

I am startled by the sound. Her voice is a little hoarse from lack of use but it was a sound. I had almost given up hope that she would ever speak again.

"He always had a soft spot for them," I reply.

Mom smiles knowingly. She knows as well as I do what dandelions meant to him.

"Who brought them?" she asks curiously.

I look down at her question. Why does he keep cropping up today?

"Peeta," I mumble.

Mom nods her head in understanding before scrunching her eyebrows in a frown.

"He hasn't been around. Did something happen between the two of you?" she asks.

Shame comes rushing through me. Shame that I have been lying to her for nearly 2 months. That I lied to Dad in the last months of his life.

"We were never together. I was just annoyed that Glimmer assumed I wouldn't have a date for the wedding so I made one up. Peeta was just helping me out," I reply.

Mom looks genuinely surprised by my revelation and ponders it for a moment before speaking again.

"You were very convincing," she replies.

"Well Peeta is a good actor," I say.

"It was more than that. You were different that week. Happier. More open. Your dad was so happy to see you like that. Peeta had always been his favourite Mellark. Even ahead of Madge. Said it was a crime for a boy to be that charming and kind hearted. He was busy planning your wedding and picking out your children's names."

I have to choke back the tears that threaten to pour out. I didn't realise how much Dad had bought into the relationship. That he was genuinely happy for us. I feel terrible for lying to him. That he died believing a lie.

"That's all he ever wanted for you. To find a good man who would love you for everything that you were worth. That you'd get to experience the same happiness that we did," Mom carries on.

I can't stop the tears now as they come streaming down my face. The guilt is overwhelming. The guilt that I lied. The guilt that while I was experiencing the love he was talking about, I was missing him slip away.

"It doesn't matter Mom. I wasn't there for Dad because I was too selfish and slept with Peeta while he was dying. I will never forgive myself for not being there for him," I cry.

Mom reaches across the table and gives my hand a sympathetic squeeze. It is the first sign of comfort she has given me since Dad died.

"I know," she says.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who understood what I did last chapter. It was great hearing all your thoughts.

Only one more chapter of the main story after this one so things will be resolved soon.

Have a happy New Year!