Wow, so hopefully the updates on this will be a little more consistent but obviously I'll still be putting out chapters at least into the early part of the new year even if I can get a chapter out to you guys every other week or so! To the anon who asked about how many chapters are left, I can't tell you for absolute sure, but…if several is satisfactory enough for now, we'll stick with that ;)
A big thank you to ct522 for beta-ing on the fly for me on this one even though she is currently writing TWO fabulous Hunger Games fics titled, one titled Good Again and the other titled Persuasion so please, please go check those out! They are fantastic!
As always, reviews are like pennies from heaven and I appreciate each and every one!
How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes
I struggle to find any truth in your lies
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know
My weakness I feel I must finally show
- "Awake my Soul" Mumford and Sons
Chapter 40
After spending a relaxing day in bed together (and finally getting to finish what we'd awkwardly started in the morning) I took the second of the three pregnancy tests after dinner that night. I was in the downstairs bathroom and Peeta was perched nervously on the edge of a couch cushion in the living room waiting for me to bring him the stick so that we could see the results together just like with the first one.
I placed the test on a folded piece of toilet paper and set it on the coffee table before I moved to stand between Peeta's open, nervously bouncing knees at the couch. Without a word my arms found their way around Peeta's neck and my fingers threaded through his hair. Peeta's arms instinctively came up around my hips and he rested his cheek against the still flat plane of my belly with a shaky sigh while we waited. When the proper amount of time had passed, it was Peeta who reached for the test and lifted it from the table to read the results first.
"Pregnant." He whispered softly and I glanced down at the simple but powerful word on the tiny screenand stroked a hand lovingly over his tousled hair. Peeta just stared at the stick pinched between the thumb and forefinger of his trembling right hand as an anxioussilence stretched between us.
I smiled and watched the muscles in Peeta's face twitch, each shift of his eyes or crinkle of his forehead I easily recognized like lines in a favorite book I'd read a thousand times.
Seeing Peeta's face after taking that second test, the way he bit his bottom lip with just the right balance of adult anxiety and youthful excitement, almost brought me more enjoyment than when I told him I might be pregnant in the first place.
We went to bed that night holding each other close and once more the nightmares couldn't penetrate the wall of joy that had been built around us with the news of our impending parenthood. Each happy thought about our unborn child that we'd whispered across the pillows while lounging in bed that day added a brick to that wall and offered hope that we might one day cast the bad thoughts out for good.
I took the last testin the morning after being startled awake by Peeta standing impatiently over me at 4:30 when he usually got up to shower and head to the bakery. I couldn't help but laugh at his boyish excitement as he followed me into the bathroom and leaned against the counter while I took the test. I shook my head as I thought back to how embarrassed he was in our first year living together to open the curtain while he was showering and find me using the toilet in the same bathroom. We'd obviously both matured quite a bit since then as there I was hoping for a third positive result saying I was pregnant and Peeta was comfortably perched a few feet away from me while I peed.
When it became the third positive test lying beside the others on the sink, Peeta kissed me with such gentleness that I felt myself getting a little choked up and then he put me back to bed so that he could get ready for work. Before he left our bedroom I asked Peeta if he'd like me to wait until he was home before I called my mom to tell her that she was going to be a grandmother.
I was a little surprised when he shook his head and smiled at me. "Nah, you…uh…you go ahead and call her yourself." He whispered from the doorway and dropped his eyes from mine briefly, but just long enough to let me know there was something else on his mind.
"What? What is it?" I asked pushing up onto my elbows and narrowing my eyes at him. We'd both grown so adept at reading the other's moods that even the simple act of casting his eyes away from mine for a moment told me there was more he wanted to say.
"Well, I was just thinking…" he mumbled and rubbed the back of his head shyly.
"I might stop by the meadow on my way in this morning and…um..well, I'd like to tell my parents too." He said softly and shrugged. His eyes were still downcast so he didn't see that I'd climbed quietly out of bed until I was standing right in front of him and had taken his face between my hands.
We looked into each other's eyes with such a jumble of emotions ranging from the joy of knowing we'd created a new life together, to the profound sadness of bringing that life into a world where a few important sets of arms would never get to cradle its warm little body.
For just a moment I let that guilt I sometimes felt for having at least my mother still alive when Peeta had no blood relatives left nearly overwhelm me, but it passed just as quickly when I realized with an unexpected jolt of happiness that this child in my womb meant that was no longer true.
"I think that's a great idea, Peet." I whispered and pressed my lips to his warmly. Peeta responded in kind, sucking my lower lip in between both of his with a sigh and I felt a rush of warmth when his right hand slipped comfortably between us to stroke my belly.
"I love you, Kat." He said when we broke apart and he had rested his forehead to mine. I gripped the back of his neck with one hand and placed the other over his at my middle.
Peeta snorted a soft laugh and shook his head slightly against mine making me pull back slightly to look questioningly into his eyes with a small smile of my own.
"What? What is it?" I asked lightly squeezing the back of his hand that was resting over the place our baby was.
"It's just…I was thinking how there aren't enough…colors in the world to paint what I'm feeling right now." He murmured and a surge of love so strong, so immediate, shot through my blood and left me wondering if there might finally come a day when I felt one hundred percent worthy of the love this beautiful man gave to me so freely.
The emotions that had been threatening to engulf me since I first suspected I was pregnant finally couldn't be contained any longer. In only the company of my husband I didn't even bother to try and stop the tears pooling in my eyes from spilling over and racing in little salty streams down my cheeks.
Peeta tugged me closer into his arms and just rocked me tenderly from side to side, not needing or expecting a similarly romantic or profound declaration from me. The fact alone that I was willing to carry his child after living for so long in fear of not only the responsibility of raising that child, but opening myself up to the possibility of more loss and pain should anything happen to that child, was the greatest demonstration of love I could have ever showed him.
"Alright," I said pushing him away playfully after a few moments. "You better get going if you want to stop at the meadow first."
"Sure." Peeta said sitting down in the big chair by our bed and pulling on his shoes. "You wanna cook that turkey we have thawing in the fridge for dinner tonight?" he asked grinning up at me as he tied his shoes. I knew exactly what he was hedging at and frankly, it sounded like a perfect idea.
"All the fixings…stuffing, roasted potatoes, vegetables?" I asked smiling as I moved over to sit in his lap. Work be damned. Calen would already be at the bakery opening up and getting the prep work for the day started. I wanted to enjoy this moment with my husband.
"Mmmhmmm…" Peeta murmured and rubbed his nose against my cheek gently. "How else are we going to make sure that enough of the liquor in Haymitch's stomach is absorbed so that tomorrow morning he'll remember we told him you're pregnant over dinner tonight?" He joked and I sniffed back my happy tears from a few minutes ago as my body shook with laughter.
"You think he'll be…happy about it?" I whispered from where I was snuggled into Peeta's strong arms.
"Of course he will." Peeta snorted. "Not that he'll really show it in any kind of…normal way, but of course he will be." He said kissing the top of my head and I could feel a smile on his lips. "I mean, after all it's not every day a guy gets told he's going to be a Paw-paw." He said and I pulled back to look up at him with raised eyebrows.
It had been a sort of unspoken arrangement between Peeta, myself and Haymitch for years that we were permitted to look upon him as a surrogate father since we'd both lost ours. For as surly as he could act and as disinterested in our activities as he pretended to be outside of his reliance on us to feed him most of the week, we both knew Haymitch loved us with as much of his damaged heart as he could manage.
"Paw-paw huh?" I asked with a roll of my eyes and rubbed a hand across Peeta's chest for no other reason than that I craved the feel of his firm, warm body under my fingertips.
"Mmmhmm." Peeta said with a decisive nod and I couldn't help but chuckle again. If Peeta and I were held in Haymitch's heart with the same affection he'd give to children of his own, than surely he wouldn't be able to help but look upon our child with feelings similar to that of a grandparent.
"He's gonna hate being called that." I said simply as Peeta stroked a hand over the length of hair down my back.
"Sure he is." He said sarcastically and we both laughed and enjoyed our last few moments together before Peeta would absolutely have to leave for work.
I called my mother later when I woke up for the second time that morning. She was even more emotional than I had been expecting considering I'd already told her I thought I was pregnant and she had been the one to send the tests to me that had confirmed it.
She asked all the questions I expected like if I had called the midwife, how Peeta had reacted to the news, and how I was feeling. She even asked whether we told Haymitch yet which only proved that there were those in our small inner circle beyond just Peeta and I that recognized Haymitch's importance in our lives.
I told her that the midwife was my very next phone call and that we were planning on telling Haymitch during dinner that night. She was happy to hear I was feeling better and wasn't at all surprised by how ecstatic Peeta had been at the news, even if our little plan to have him open the package containing the pregnancy tests hadn't gone exactly as we thought it would.
"Have you and Peeta discussed what you plan to do about informing the government?" She asked gently after a brief pause in the conversation.
It was a fact never far from the minds of any of us who had been central to the rebellion and were still expected to play nice with the democratic government that had taken over power after the Capitol fell to the rebels.
I had considered the implications of a pregnancy almost daily since Peeta and I had begun trying for a baby, not the least of which was my concern about the unwanted attention it would bring us.
Even nearly 15 years after we first became famous as the 'star-crossed lovers of District 12' in the 74th Hunger Games, our activities were still of interest to the citizens of the new Panem. Once the public found out we were finally going to have a baby, I feared everything I hated about the publicity we gained from our stint in the Hunger Games and our reluctant roles in the rebellion would creep back into our lives.
Plutarch Heavensbee who remained the head of communications through three successors to President Paylor, had done his darndest to convince us that the continued interest only proved how important we had been to the rebellion that freed our country from oppression. We humored him because he left us alone except for the occasional dedication of a memorial here or government anniversary there. To be honest I think he was a little bit afraid of the citizens of 12 we lived comfortably amongst and who were almost as fiercely protective of our privacy when the occasional outsider appeared to get a look at 'the girl on fire' and 'the boy with the bread' as Peeta and I ourselves were.
When we had first decided to start trying for a baby I called Plutarch and laid out for him exactly how much exposure we planned on allowing our child to have. This consisted of a statement indicating that I was indeed pregnant and an approximate date that the child would arrive on, followed by a birth announcement and a family photograph when the baby was born. Another photograph would be made public each year, once per year so long as our privacy and that of our child was not violated at any other point in that year.
I made it perfectly clear that if that privacy was violated or if at any time Peeta and I felt uncomfortable with the arrangement, we were free to terminate all further contact the public had with us or our family. After having known him for so long, I could tell Plutarch wasn't entirely happy or interested in complying with my demands but when I reminded him that he was really in no position to negotiate thanks to the laws Paylor's administration had passed as part of the Victor's Rights to Privacy Act, he relented.
"I talked to Plutarch when Peeta and I first decided to start trying…" I explained and was almost certain I heard a soft sigh of relief on the line. "The baby will be covered under the Victor's Act… but I added some extra stipulations."
I smiled when my mother snorted a laugh over the phone. "I bet you did." She mumbled and I had to stifle a laugh of my own at the amused but also somewhat proud tone to her voice. "I really am just…so happy for you, Katniss." She said after another slightly awkward silence. "Oh! A grandchild…" She whispered and I could hear the tightness in her voice that told me she was struggling to hold back tears.
"Thanks Mom, I really am happy too." I admitted and placed my hand lightly over my abdomen that had yet to display any signs of the life growing inside me. There was something about saying that I was happy out loud that caused an uncomfortable chill to shoot through my body from head to toe.
I remembered my father saying when you felt a chill, it meant someone was walking over the place where your grave was meant to be one day (a saying my mother frowned greatly uponconsidering how likely the possibility was of her children's lives being cut short. As I told my mother how happy I truly was about the baby, I feared the chill I felt wasn't because of someone's trespasses over my grave but of my trespasses over the graves of so many others.
Without warning, an icy mix of guilt and fear pierced the bubble of warmth that had been forming around my heart since learning of the baby and I hung up with my mother after a hasty excuse that I was sure she would see through and call to check on me later.
I was shaking as I dropped the phone to the bedside table and closed my eyes briefly to try and steady my suddenly pounding heart. Even with my eyes shut the room seemed to spin around me and a wave of nausea overtook me. I didn't know if it was from the panic attack or from the baby, but considering the jumble of thoughts in my head at the time the possibility of either of those only threw me into more of an emotional tailspin.
I held both hands over my middle and tried to fight back the fear that was never far away, especially when Peeta wasn't there to help me battle it with the strength of his words in my ear or his arms around me. I felt the hot tears rolling down my cheeks as the sarcastic voice of my younger, more jaded self mocked me.
What did you expect? That this baby was going to make all of your problems go away? Fix those parts of your broken heart that even Peeta's love hasn't been able to mend? Finnick never even got to see his child. Prim, so loving and caring, would have made a much better mother than you.
"No!" I yelled and it echoed in the empty bedroom that I imagined overflowing with the ghosts of every face Peeta had drawn with heart-wrenchingperfection in the memory book we made. The unfamiliar ones like the 23 years of District 12 children Haymitch had mentored watched me with unbearable sadness in their eyes. They seemed to be asking why I was so special to have been spared from death in not one but two turns in the Games that had taken their young lives.
"No! Stop! Please leave me alone!" I cried and fell to the bed, shutting my eyes to their accusatory stares. I pulled my knees up to my chest and covered my ears like I had in the Quarter Quell when the jabberjays arrived carrying the painful cries of my loved ones as their songs.
The familiar faces of the ghosts standing around the room were the worst.
The members of our star squad, the tributes in the Quarter Quell and the 74th Games who I had personally dispatched from this life.
Finnick. Prim.
Always Prim.
You failed to protect her, what makes you think you can protect this child any better?
"We can!...Things are different now!" I wailed over their cries of injustice. "Please, stop! Please! Just leave me alone! I want her, I want this baby! Please!" I begged and pleaded with them, trying to make the voices in my head stop as I continued to lay with my knees bent protectively over my middle.
Only perhaps ten minutes had gone by since the panic attack first began and the voices of the dead had finally started to fade enough that I heard the front door swing open and then slam shut.
"KATNISS!?" It was Peeta's fear-laden voice followed by the familiar thump-bump of his remaining leg and his prosthetic one rushing up the stairs that reached me next. I opened my mouth to call out to him but while the faces and voices had left, the trauma of their warnings remained and I was unable to find my voice under all the pain.
The bedroom door flew open and Peeta, red cheeked and out of breath stood in the threshold. We just stared at each other for a second, both our eyes reflecting the bitterness of once more having a happy occasion tainted by our sad past.
"Oh, sweetheart…" He whispered and approached the bed slowly, not sure whether I was going to reach for him or reject him but preparing himself for either. I remained curled in my protective ball, my fists still balled over my ears in case the venomous whispers of the dead returned.
I didn't move as he settled himself on the bed next to me and tried to resist the urge to cry when he pulled my rigid body into his arms and started to rub my back soothingly.
"How?" It was all I could manage to force past my lips. Luckily, I knew Peeta was able to interpret my questions in one word (or sometimes less) by that point.
"Your mom called me at work after you hung up with her." He explained and I must have been feeling a little better because my eyes rolled skyward and I shook my head slightly.
"She said you ended the phone call kind of abruptly and you sounded…off." He whispered and kissed the top of my head. "What happened?" Peeta asked and the warmth of his lips against my head almost tricked me into thinking I could share the horrors that had plagued my mind.
It was almost a full three minutes before I was able to answer him in a way I found acceptable. As much as we supported each other through the nightmares and memories that haunted us, there was a silent understanding between us that had helped Peeta and I to avoid hurting each other's feelings for years. If whatever we experienced was too painful to relive once more or if we felt it might cause the other to suffer a similar experience, we kept it to ourselves.
Peeta had been doing so, so well at the time and was so completely overjoyed about the baby that I just couldn't bear to burden him with my own messy emotions that day. The possibility of causing a setback in Peeta'slong-termrecovery just wasn't worth it to me for the words of comfort and understanding he would most certainly offer. When it came down to it, I cared more about Peeta's well-being than I did about my own.
That's what happens when you're madly in love with someone.
"Panic attack. Same old shit." I mumbled eventually and turned my face into his chest so that I could hear the steady beat of Peeta's heart. I soaked in the warmth of his body and the smell of the breads he made that morning that still clung to his clothes.
All he needed was a splatter of paint on his shirt front and the trifecta of Peeta-ness that brought me comfort without him needing to say anything at all would be complete.
"Wanna talk?" He asked and ran the fingers of one hand gently through the length of my hair while the other rested on my hip. As he began drawing small circles there with his thumb, I felt the muscles in my body that had been balled tight slowly beginning to relax even though he was asking for something I just wasn't in the right place to give him then.
I could only shake my head as the memory of what I had seen in our bedroom during the attack threatened to break me again and I curled closer into Peeta's arms.
"Wanna help me take the turkey's guts out and stuff its butt with bread crumbs, celery and onions?" he asked in the same gentle tone and it just sounded so absolutely ridiculous that I started laughing.
When I pulled back to look into Peeta's face, he was smiling softly and I knew immediately that his question was meant to make me laugh to break up the seriousness of the situation.
"Don't you need to go back to work?" I asked with a hint of panic in my voice and Peeta shook his head and pinched a long piece of my bangs that was flopped over one of my eyes. He sighed softly and smoothed the piece of hair back with a grunt.
"Nah," He scoffed and smiled down at me again. "The boss was really cool about me leaving." He said and his smile widened as I felt my own stretch across my face. "In fact, he gave me the rest of the day off." He whispered and jabbed a finger playfully into my navel through my shirt.
I couldn't stop the bubble of laughter that popped out and it almost made me forget that I was upset in the first place. The fact that less than a half hour before I had been close to spending the day in bed and there I was joking with my husband about cleaning a turkey for dinner proved how good Peeta and I really were for each other's emotional stability.
"You're such a dope." I said and snuggled into his side as Peeta tugged me up a little higher on the bed so that my cheek was resting on his shoulder.
"I know, but I'm your dope." He said and placed his right hand on my stomach and splayed his fingers out so that his large hand spanned almost the whole width of my abdomen across. I looked down at it and pictured my middle expanding over the weeks and months as our child grew and how Peeta's hand would look smaller and smaller against my round belly.
"And you gave me a little dope." I teased and placed my hand over top of his on my stomach.
"Speaking of…" he said and entwined our fingers together there. "What are you thinking? Dope or dope-ette?" He asked and I chuckled softly and sat up cross-legged on the bed beside Peeta who remained stretched out comfortably on his side.
"I don't need to guess, I know." I said tilting my head to the side as I smiled at him, hoping that the joy of knowing I was carrying our child outshone the sadness of thinking about another child so dear to me who I had lost.
"Oh yeah?" Peeta asked amused and rolled off the bed so that he was standing beside it with his hands on his hips. I released a sigh of relief when he smiled brightly at me and I realized I'd forced enough happiness into my eyes to keep the sadness at bay for the moment.
"It's a girl." I said with quiet confidence and cradled my non-existentbelly while Peeta crossed his arms and stood patiently waiting for me to explain how I'd reached such a level of certainty on the topic.
"Losing…." I stopped a moment and cleared my throat without looking up at Peeta, instead choosing to look down at my stomach as once more I tried to gain comfort from imagining it swelling with his child.
"Losing Prim…was one of the most….horrible things that ever happened in my life." I said trying to remain calm as I lay both hands flat over my abdomen. I swore to myself right then and there that I would protect this child in my womb until she took her first breath and then every moment after for as long as I was able. I would not fail her like I'd failed my little sister.
The misty forms of the ghosts that had haunted me during my panic attack danced around the room in my peripheral vision and I had to close my eyes and tell myself they weren't really there before I could continue.
"I volunteered for the first Games to try and save her." I whispered and shook my head slowly from side to side as I thought about just how unfair it was that my efforts to protect my little sister had been in vain. The greater good of the country may have been protected by my accidental incendiary acts in the Games, but it was only my love for Prim and what I felt at the time was my obligation to my district to bring Peeta home that had been my objective. As Peeta and Haymitch have always said, I truly have no idea the effect I have on people.
"I put on that ridiculous show during the Victory Tour to try and save her. I…I became the Mockingjay for the rebellion to try and save her. I survived the Hunger Games twice….and…" I glanced towards the windows trying to gather my emotions and Peeta stepped closer to the bed so that he could reach out and take my hands in his. He gave each one a gentle squeeze of support and I nodded to let him know I was able to go on.
"I…lost her anyway." I sighed and tugged one of Peeta's hands back with mine to rest on my belly. When I was finally able to look back into his face, I knew I wouldn't ever tire of the light that seemed to emanate from his eyes whenever he was thinking about our child.
"And I can't help but think that just like I was given a second chance with my own life and you with yours, I'm entitled to a second chance at watching a little girl I love with all of my heart grow into a woman I can be proud to say I'm related to." I smiled at him then and let go of his other hand to reach up and stroke his cheek.
"I think you deserve another chance at having a woman in your family you can actually be proud to say you're related to as well, don't you?" I asked and Peeta's eyes swam with tears that told me he understood I was talking about the emotionally cold and distant woman who had been his mother.
He brought his hand up to cover mine on his cheek and turned his head just enough to kiss my palm with his soft, warm lips. I wasn't at all surprised when the warmth conveyed in that kiss spread through my body melting the last bits of an icy core that had begun to build up during my panic attack.
Peeta's eyes searched mine to make sure whatever 'episode' I was having was over and I couldn't help but smile in appreciation of how much of himself my husband was willing to give to me when there were days I'm sure he felt he barely had enough left for even his own self thanks to his own demons.
While watching Peeta checking to make sure I was okay I thought of the conversation I'd overheard and been slightly offended by inTigris's basement as the members of the Star Squad took a brief rest from our march through the Capitol during the war. Gale had said (and Peeta had not refuted) that of the two of them, I would choose whoever I felt I couldn't survive without. At the time I had been hurt by those words, knowing that two of the most important people in my life saw me in such a light.
It was in those moments when Peeta was able to completely turn around my mood as I was spiraling into the abyss of my past heartaches that I knew that what they said had been at least partly correct. I needed Peeta to survive. He was my dandelion in the spring and summer and even managed to fight his way up through the leaves of fall, and snow of winter to help me carry on in those seasons as well.
"Well," Peeta said so quietly I would have missed it if I wasn't looking right up into his face. "I already have one woman I'm proud to say I'm related to, but another would be…just terrific." He winked and slowly turned my wedding ring one full revolution in case I was being thick and missed his meaning.
I smiled in that sappy way I get when Peeta's being exceptionally sweet, adorable and totally out of my emotional league and leaned in to kiss the little space between his collar bones.
"I love you." I sighed as I rubbed my nose against his throat and folded my arms together across his strong back.
"Love you back." Peeta whispered and tipped his chin to kiss the top of my head. We just stood there holding each other, not even knowing how long. The spell of peaceful quiet was broken when Buttercup Two crept into the room and kept himself close to the wall as he slinked over the bed the long way.
Peeta and I both turned our heads to watch him and I laughed at the barely concealed look of fear and suspicion on his face as I was sure he was thinking about the noises he'd heard coming from me during my attack. I couldn't remember if he'd been in the room or not during it, but by the look he was giving me I was sure at the very least he hadn't been far away.
"Shit, look at him…" I snorted and sat back down on the edge of the mattress when the cat pounced cautiously up onto Peeta's side of the bed. I reached out slowly and scratched behind his ears where I knew he liked to be petted best and he raised his chin, leaning easily into my touch.
"You've never seen me like that before, have you?" I whispered and Buttercup Two climbed into my lap and kneaded my thighs with his paws. When he nuzzled up to my stomach Peeta sat down beside us and gave the plump little fur ball a poke in the side.
"Hey, watch it there, Slick, that's my daughter you're saying hello to." He teased and looped an arm around my waist and I leaned my head on his shoulders as the cat climbed into Peeta's lap next.
"So…turkey guts?" I asked and Peeta nodded.
"Turkey guts." He repeated and I lifted my head and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. He shooed the cat off of his lap and stood so that he could turn around and look down at me with his own rasied eyebrow. "What?"
"You know I shot the turkey, brought it home, plucked all of its feathers out and chopped the head off already…" I said ticking the turkey preparation tasks I'd already accomplished off on my fingers. "Don't you think you could handle the guts? I am pregnant after all," I reminded him. Once more I could tell Peeta was having a difficult time hiding his joy about the pregnancy under the look of mirth he gave me for using the baby as an excuse to get out of a chore.
"There are going to be some things around the house I can't do until after the baby is born." I grinned and Peeta tugged me up to my feet by one hand and walked backwards to the door still holding my gaze as he pulled me along with him.
"Oh yeah? And what might those things be?" He asked and I shrugged non-commitally because I didn't want to paint myself into a corner when I knew the midwife would surely have a list of do's and don'ts that Peeta would be privy to at the first visit.
"Not sure about all of them, but I know pregnant women can't be near cat poop so guess whose job that'll be for the next several months?" I grinned and Peeta growled and rolled his eyes as I climbed onto his back playfully when we reached the hallway.
"Katniss, there is no way I am walking down the steps with you on my back." He said sternly when we reached the top of the stairs and I rolled my eyes and slid to the floor with a huff of frustration.
"Wow, you're not going to let me do anything until this baby is here are you?" I asked and Peeta started down the steps ahead of me shaking his head.
"Nope." He said simply and I could hear the pride in his voice at the thought of all the ways he could take care of me in the coming months.
He still seemed to think it was a secret, but I knew there was nothing that catered to the provider side of Peeta more than when I needed him. Maybe because I had always been so independent, or maybe more sobecause it's just who Peeta is, but from that day in the rain when he threw me the bread on, I've always known that the boy with the bread is happiest when he's taking care of others.
Taking care of me then was like his birthday, New Year's and the Harvest Festival all rolled into one. Adding the fact that I was pregnant with his child and thereby obligated to take it easy and let him take over the majority of household chores was just the icing on top of that tender loving care cake for my baker.
I chuckled and shook my head as I followed him down to the kitchen to get the turkey ready for her long afternoon roast in the oven.
Later, in the evening, I was daydreaming out the kitchen window as I washed a bowl of cranberries in the sink for dinner when Peeta surprised me by placing his hands on my hips from behind and bringing his lips down on the place where my shoulder turned into my neck.
I stiffened in surprise at the first touch of his hands and lips, something Peeta is thankfully used to happening after I've had an attack. I closed my eyes against the initial fright of being touched when I wasn't expecting it and took in the familiar feel and smell that could only be Peeta's. I set the strainer with the cranberries in it down in the sink and brought my wet hands to rest over his dry ones on my hips. I kept my eyes closed and stroked my fingers over the backs of his hands, tracing the familiar map of flesh including muscles, tendons and veins that assured me it was in fact Peeta touching me and felt my body relax. Peeta's lips had made their way from my shoulder to the curve of my jaw and I chuckled when he caught my earlobe in his teeth and tugged once gently.
"Mmm…better stop that," I purred even as my traitorous hips pressed back into his and Peeta's arms slid up to wrap around my waist. "Peeta…Haymitch will be here soon…" I mumbled and gasped when he brushed his thumbsjust under my breasts.
They were still sensitive but compared to his groping them the other morning which caused the kind of pain that almost put me through the ceiling, the slow drag of his thick thumbs beneath them sent an unexpected but not unwelcome stab of desire straight between my legs.
When Peeta laughed lightly against my cheek I knew he felt my response to his mischievous attempt at foreplay and I turned slowly in his arms and raised mine to wrap around his neck. I attempted a scolding look but once more that infectious joy written all over Peeta's face couldn't be denied and I pushed forward on my tiptoes to kiss him.
Our lips had just met when both of our heads turned at the sound of a sudden grunt from the kitchen doorway that led to the downstairs hall.
"So you've gone and knocked her up then I assume?"
Haymitch.
He was standing in newish slacks, a clean sweater and his nicest shoes. Even if he didn't have a completely shit-eaten grin on his face, I would have been happy to see him just for the obvious effort he'd put into looking presentable for this meal at my insistence when I called to tell him we'd be eating a little bit early.
I kept my arms around Peeta's neck and we smiled at each other before turning our faces back to Haymitch who, if I wasn't mistaken, appeared to have the shine of tears in his eyes.
"And what makes you think that, old man?" Peeta asked folding his hands together at the small of my back and pulling me in a little closer to him. Haymitch just rolled his eyes because like me, I assumed he could hear the emotion in Peeta's voice, and then he took a step inside the room.
"Well aside from the fact that you two are being more lovey-dovey than my sensitive stomach can handle," He gave us a little smile when we raised our eyes because it was well-known to basically the whole country that Haymitch Abernathy's stomach could likely digest hovercraft fuel with little or no issue. He raised one arm and waved it up and down the length of Peeta's body as he stepped closer yet to where we stood at the sink.
"The boy's practically got rainbows shooting out his rear end," He stopped and then a proudly wicked smile graced his face as he looked me over and continued his thought. "and you look like you've gained a few there, Sweetheart." He finished happily and I narrowed my eyes at him.
"You want an arrow through that sensitive stomach, asshole?" I growled and Haymitch and Peeta both howled with laughter. I pushed away from Peeta and folded my arms stubbornly which only made them laugh harder.
"There's enough arrows for me to spend one on you too, smiley." I huffed, looking Peeta over and turned to stomp away from them but was caught by one young and work-roughened and one old, clammy and wrinkled hand on either of my wrists.
"Congratulations, kids." Haymitch whispered when I found myself suddenly sandwiched between the only two men who could both exasperate me and make me feel adored in almost the same breath.
"Thanks, Haymitch." I whispered and struggled to free my arms so that I could wrap one around Peeta's middle and the other around Haymitch's. We three Hunger Games victors just stood there for several minutes, embracing each other as well as the promise of something truly pure and innocent returning to our lives.
A child. A child who would never be cold or hungry. Who would never watch themself or their friends be marched off to die in the Hunger Games. I was sure that selfishly we were all also thinking about the healing power this baby might also have in helping to mend some of the still broken pieces of the three souls who would spend the most time basking in the light of its innate goodness.
It was finally Haymitch who broke the silence with an attempt to spoil a moment that he had to know he had no chance of actually spoiling with how happy Peeta and I both were.
"If it carries on at night as loudly as the two of you have been while trying to make it, I'll be moving to another district quicker than you can say 'cheese buns', got it?" he asked and Peeta and I both groaned and told him to shut up.
"You can't ever leave us, Haymitch, who do you think you're kidding?" Peeta asked pulling back slightly so that he could see our mentor's face and I glanced back and forth between the two of them as they smiled proudly at each other. "This little one is going to want to see her Paw-paw all the time!" He said grinning and placed a hand on my abdomen.
"….sleepovers, taking care of the geese, birthdays, holidays….and of course she'll want to hear you tell stories about her Mommy and Daddy when they were young…" He would have gone on but I felt the need to interrupt at that moment and get my own revenge on Haymitch for the 'look like you've gained a few' comment.
"Well…what he can remember of when we were young between the forgetfulness that comes with his age and the amount of booze he chugs on a daily basis." I quipped and smirked up at Haymitch proudly.
"There is no way on this whole damned planet that this kid is going to call me 'Paw-paw." Haymitch responded with such a disingenuous scowl that Peeta and I both broke down inlaughter and tears.
We went back to hugging him as he finally brought his arms up to hold the two of us and his pseud-granchild, the idea of which he was already falling in love.