I've spent the morning and most of the afternoon in what will be my garden, turning the soil and laying out rows. It's warm for April, but I know it's too soon to begin planting, there will be another hard frost yet I'm sure. I want to be sure that everything is ready, I think I can start planting in another couple of weeks. The garden will be large, but I welcome the challenge, it'll keep me busy and provide me, and my neighbours, with fresh vegetables all summer long. Well, I hope it will. I have exactly zero experience gardening after all.
As I stand to head into the house and clean up I see her, striding through the gates of the village. At first I think she's heading to her house, but she shifts her path and walks directly towards me. She's flushed and wisps of hair that have escaped from her short braid fly around her face in the breeze. "Hi," I say with a smile, wiping my hands on my pants. She smiles shyly and extends something to me, wrapped in cloth.
"Morels," she says as I open the cloth and peer in at the fragrant mushrooms. "For you."
"Thank you," I smile widely at her. She looks away, shifting from foot to foot, like she wants to say something but can't find the words. I simply wait, observing her as I do. The game bag slung over her shoulder is full and her eyes are bright and clear. Her cheeks are still hollow, and the circles under her eyes suggest exhaustion, but she looks better every day.
"I found fiddleheads too," she finally says, "And, uh," she takes a deep breath. "And would you like to come for dinner? Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" It comes out in a rush, and I freeze, not entirely certain I've heard her right. As the words sink in a smile spreads across my face.
"I would love to," I sound like an eager little kid, but I can't help myself. She raises her head and flashes me a brief, shy smile.
"Great, come by around six then, okay?" She's turned and is walking briskly back across the green before I can even reply. I watch her in wonder. Katniss Everdeen just asked me to dinner.
I bake tarts, studded with raisins and nuts, to bring for dessert. I've showered and am dressed with an hour to spare, and have begun pacing the living room. I'm incredibly nervous, though I shouldn't be nervous, we have shared breakfast together every morning, this isn't any different. It's completely different, she invited you this time, I think. This is true; we sort of fell into our joint breakfasts after Greasy Sae asked me to stay that first morning, and then asked me to return the next. I've never even asked Katniss if she minded me being there. It's Katniss, if she minded you wouldn't be there. That too is true, she's damaged and hurting, but she's still Katniss, and I've seen sparks of that indomitable will I know if still smouldering beneath the surface. If you don't calm down you're going to push yourself into an episode. I sigh, this is also true, stress and exhaustion make it harder to fight off the shiny memories, and the last thing I want to do is lose it around Katniss. I haven't had a violent episode in a long, long time, not since the incident with Mitchell, but even with the milder flashbacks I'm not completely convinced that it'd be safe for Katniss to be around me when I have one.
I decide to draw to calm myself down, and sit in the kitchen with sketchbook and pencils bringing to life on the page the delicate honeycomb texture of the morels Katniss brought for me. By the time 6 o'clock rolls around I've calmed considerably.
Greasy Sae lets me in; Katniss is laying out plates of food. Two plates. Only two plates. Sae waves and calls out a good bye, and I'm left standing in the kitchen with Katniss, just the two of us. I can hardly breathe. "She needed to get back to Lila," Katniss offers by way of explanation. Lila is Greasy Sae's orphaned granddaughter, a simple little girl who sometimes tags along for breakfast. Sae and Lila are the only two in their family who survived the firebombing, they live now in one of the Victor's Village houses, beside the gates that head to town. A revolving group of returnees and new immigrants from Thirteen stay with Sae when they arrive to build (or rebuild) their homes, she seems to flourish caring for them just as she does caring for Katniss. And, well, caring for me too I guess.
Katniss gestures for me to take my chair, and then sits across from me, much like we do every morning. My nerves are forgotten when I see my plate, suddenly I'm ravenous. Rabbit, rolled in breadcrumbs and cooked up crispy, fiddleheads and morels fried in oil and flecked with pepper. Everything tastes delicious. Even Katniss eats well.
"This is the best meal I've had in months! Thank you Katniss," I exclaim.
"I caught the rabbit this morning, two of them in fact," she smiles. "Sae cooked it, and the greens too."
"It's wonderful, I haven't had any fresh meat since I came back." I'm reluctant to admit this but it slips out before I can stop it.
Her brow furrows. "You haven't?"
Shaking my head I explain, "Fresh meat doesn't come in the Capitol deliveries. There were some canned goods in my pantry, but mostly I've been eating bread and cheese." Thinking about Sae's breakfasts I add, "And eggs."
"But Rooba is back in business, she has a stall in the new marketplace. I bring her game sometimes, and she gets beef and even chicken from District 10 as well," Katniss says, her eyes registering confusion. I look down, as if suddenly interested in the table.
"I, uh, I haven't been to the marketplace yet." I clear my throat, "Actually, I haven't been to town at all yet. I, uh, I'm not really ready. To - to face it." My cheeks are flushed with embarrassment; I feel weak and cowardly admitting this.
Silence fills the kitchen until finally Katniss speaks so softly I almost miss it. "I'll go with you, if you want. When you're ready I mean." I look up; her eyes are full of understanding. "It was really hard for me to see the town and the Seam at first too. Still is. Thom and the others have cleared away the worst of it now at least. But it's hard."
I'm flooded with gratitude. "Thank you," I say quietly, "I think I'd like that."
"Anyway," she continues after a pause, "We can share what I hunt and gather." I shake my head, I can't take food from her mouth, but she only waves me off, "It's only fair, you've been feeding me too. And Haymitch, I don't think he'd eat at all if you didn't keep bringing him bread." I smirk, apart from the odd grunt Haymitch has made no recognition of my presence, but at least he's eating what I bring him. When he's conscious.
"I haven't even spoken to Haymitch," I admit. "He's never awake when I'm there."
She nods, "He still sleeps in the mornings, but he has a few useful hours in the late afternoon before he gets too drunk again, sometimes anyway. Nothing's really changed for him."
I sigh, "I feel like I should know that." I murmur. I don't really want to bring up the gaps in my memory, not just yet, but her expression demands that I elaborate. Taking a deep breath I begin, "The doctors in the Capitol worked wonders, but there are still things I don't remember. Being home helps though, so much has come back since I got here." I try to put as positive a spin on it as I can, but I know there are memories that I'll never get back. She looks at me sadly.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" she queries. I unintentionally suck in a sharp breath. So many of the memories that I can't make sense of, the ones that I can't sort into real or not real, involve her, but I didn't think I'd ever be able to work up the courage to ask for her help. Now she's offering.
I nod, probably a bit too eagerly. "The… the game we played, 'Real or Not Real', that was incredibly helpful, and Dr Aurelius continued that as part of my therapy while I was hospitalized in the Capitol. When people came to visit me, Delly and Haymitch and Johanna, even Effie once, I'd play that with them, and it helped me to sort out so many things. But there is so much that none of them knew. And… and most of the memories that the Capitol tampered with..." I bite my bottom lip hard to stop myself from going any further, from scaring her off entirely. But she simply nods once and smiles, just faintly.
"Okay."
"Okay?" I'm confused.
"Okay, you can ask me, and I'll tell you, anything I can anyway." She looks determined; that spark is there in her eyes again. It makes me grin, but I'm not quite ready to delve into the confusion of my mind right now, not when I'm enjoying this uncomplicated time together, just her and me. I try a diversionary tactic.
"Well, maybe not right this minute, there are still tarts to eat after all!" I know Katniss has a sweet tooth. She laughs at this, and while I pull out the plate of tarts she makes us tea, and leaves mine unsweetened. I smile inwardly; she told me that's how I take my tea even before I remembered it myself. It's those little things that remind me she's not a mutt, she's a sweet girl, and somewhere deep inside she cares for me. I cling to that knowledge.
Somehow we end up in her living room, sitting on the floor like children, sipping tea and eating tarts, chatting about safe topics, the plants she's hoping to find now that spring is here, the garden I'm planting, Plutarch's ridiculous singing show. All too soon it's dark, the fire is dying down and Katniss is trying to stifle a yawn.
"It's late and you're tired, I should go," I say, reluctantly. She looks a little sad as I say it, but doesn't argue. "Can we…" I hesitate, not wanting to push my luck.
"Do this again?" she finishes. I nod, and she smiles softly. "I'd like that Peeta." It's the first time she's said my name since I returned, and it sends a shiver down my spine.
I rise to leave, stretching out my bad leg and offering Katniss a hand up, which she takes. Her little hand fits in mine perfectly, as it always has. As if our hands are made for each other. She walks me to the door. "Peeta?" she says as I step out onto the porch. I turn to her and she bites her bottom lip, like she's trying to force herself to say more. Finally she squeaks "Thanks for today," then she closes the door quickly. I smile to myself and head home.