Chapter Twelve
Effie nibbled on her crackers looking miserable as she leaned back against the headboard. Haymitch was lying on his stomach with a pillow under this head and an eye open as he looked at Effie lazily.
"Don't puke on the bed," he mumbled unnecessarily, "I sleep on it."
"Even if I do, I will be the one cleaning up my own mess up and changing the sheets. Stop complaining," she snapped at him.
He gave an amused smile. His eyes were fluttering close again when Effie spoke up. "I hate this, Haymitch."
"Soldier on, sweetheart," he sighed, pushing himself off the bed. "If you had been more careful with your pills, you wouldn't be in this situation, now would you?"
"Go to hell, you prick," Effie cursed him as she disappeared into their bathroom. Haymitch could hear her retching. He considered going in to help her the way she had been helping him when he was sick and drunk but somehow, he thought it would be safer to leave her alone and made his way out of the room.
For the second time that month, Effie found him at by the stove attempting to whip up a meal. Except this time when she entered the kitchen, she gagged and pinched her nose together.
"Uggh! What is that smell?"
Effie waved her hand in front of her face in disgust, lingering by the doorway unsure if she should approach him or bolt before she fainted from the smell of it.
"What?" Haymitch turned around in confusion. He threw the empty egg shells in the trash and wiped his hand on a clean towel.
"That horrendous smell – what is it?" Deciding to take control of the situation, Effie marched over to where Haymitch was standing and took the bowl of raw cracked eggs. She made a face. With one hand still covering her nose, Effie dumped the contents in the trash.
Haymitch stared at her in shock. "What are you – Why did you throw that away?" he thundered. "I was going to cook them. You've just wasted food! This is so typical of you! How many times have I told you not to waste food?"
"I cannot stand the smell! It's absolutely revolting," she shot back. "It's terrible. How could you even think of cooking them? I feel like throwing up again, Haymitch!"
"Are you mad?" Haymitch asked. "Those are eggs. It's not like they're rotten or anything. You've gone completely mental."
"I said I can't stand the smell. I don't know why, Haymitch, I just can't."
Realisation dawned on him and the situation became clear. "Ah, food aversion," Haymitch answered. "Read that in your pamphlet. You seemed to have developed a sensitive sense of smell. First my alcohol, now this."
"Oh. Oh. I – I read about it too," Effie said meekly. The corners of her lips twitched. "Careful there, Haymitch. At this rate, you'll be the expert in pregnancy," she teased.
"Whatever," he waved her off. "I'm going to town to get lunch. Would you like anything?"
"Strawberries," she was quick to answer. "I've wanted strawberries since two days ago but I didn't have the time to get them."
Haymitch grumbled to himself about Effie having cravings. "I can't help it, you know," she retorted.
He made his way to town, glad to have some time away from Effie. Haymitch took out the hip flask from his jacket pocket, drinking from it occasionally as he walked over to Greasy Sae's restaurant. For a moment, he thought he was at the wrong place. Haymitch was surprised to see that the old woman had installed an awning at the front of her shop and had even arranged tables and chairs for her patrons to dine under.
"Do you like it, boy?" she gave him a toothless smile and pierced him with a sharp glare which made him thought it would be unwise to contradict her.
"They're … They're nice. Kinda cosy," he looked around.
"Good, good," she nodded happily. "I got to take the chance, you know, with this law. I supposed the newly wed need a place to dine, yes? So why not mine? I try, boy, try to make this place… what do you young people call it?"
Haymitch stared at her not quite sure what she meant. He could hardly be classified as young and he sure as hell had no idea the language of young adults nowadays.
"More hip, grandma. More romantic," supplied Greasy Sae's granddaughter.
His head swivelled at her direction. That was the first time he heard her speak. Sandy usually kept to herself and hardly ever talked to anyone.
"Yes, yes," Greasy Sae nodded in satisfaction. "You bring your young wife here again, boy. You have a nice and proper dinner outside, at this table. Very nice view," she gestured towards a table under the awning, tucked at a corner. "You can see the town and at night, the moon will be out, full moon tonight. Very romantic. You bring her here. I like her."
Haymitch look affronted but quickly schooled his features when Greasy Sae squinted up at him suspiciously. The word 'romantic' made his skin crawl. Haymitch had never before courted a woman and he did not plan on starting anytime soon. All the women he ever had in his life had either thrown themselves at him or he had picked them up at bar and left them the next morning. Courtship and romance was something he avoided all together and he was not going to change his ways for Effie. After nearly two decades of knowing him, she should know what she had gotten herself into.
"Of course," Haymitch said instead so as not to provoke the old woman. "Now, if I could place my order?"
Greasy Sae liked to talk as she worked and while packing the sandwiches Haymitch had ordered, she asked after Effie and her pregnancy. Somehow, Haymitch wasn't surprised that she knew about Effie's impending motherhood. Words tend to travel fast in a small district such as theirs.
"She's fine," he answered curtly.
Haymitch nearly forgot but when he passed by the fruit stall on his way home, he recalled Effie asking for strawberries. He huffed in exasperation when he was told that it was out of stock and the last packet had been sold the day before. To make matters worse, the next shipment will not be in for another two weeks.
"Two weeks? What's taking so long to bring the damn fruit in?"
"There's not much demand for it here in District Twelve," the young man pointed out, "so I don't see the need to import large amount of it."
Haymitch growled in annoyance. Strawberries, along with several other types of berries were sold in small quantities in District Twelve before the Rebellion. Due to how expensive it was, only a handful of citizens could afford it and this seemed true across all the different districts. As a kid from the Seam, Haymitch had never tasted the fruit until he was at the Capitol at the age of 16. Most of the fruits were exported out to the Capitol where its privileged citizens could enjoy them at its finest.
It would seem that this habit had carried over post-rebellion and there was hardly any demand for those berries simply because district citizens were not used to having them.
"You don't understand, she's craving for it," Haymitch frowned. He had heard some nasty stories about pregnant woman and their cravings, and coupled with their mood swings, it was no surprise that Haymitch wanted to avoid a scene as much as possible.
"Come back in two weeks. I will have them," the young man told him.
XxX
The house was quiet when he returned. Haymitch saw Effie curled on the sofa with her feet tucked underneath her reading the papers with a frown on her face.
"Grilled chicken sandwich for you. You better not tell me you can't stand the idea of chicken or that you're going to throw up at the sight of it or some other nonsense," he warned as he handed her the paper bag.
Effie took it without question and began to unwrap her lunch. "Smells nice."
"Speaking of smell, here's a dust mask for you to put on whenever I need to drink or if you ever have to make scrambled eggs. You won't be able to smell anything with it on, so problem solved."
Effie looked up at saw the smug look on Haymitch's face and the way his silvery grey eyes twinkled teasingly. She took the white masks, turned in her hands and threw it back at Haymitch, her amused laughed telling him that she wasn't offended.
"That's just an excuse for you to drink more! You're a complete moron, Haymitch!"
"A moron? Still need some work but you're getting creative with the insults. Must be the hormones," he attributed easily.
Unwrapping his own sandwich, Haymitch settled down next to her and peered at the paper she was reading when he came home. "What's interesting in there?" he asked with his mouth full.
The corner of her lips turned downwards slightly in disapproval. "Manners, Haymitch," she said, spreading the paper on her lap for him to get a better view.
"Read it out to me."
… Haymitch Abernathy was spotted at the Capitol with Plutarch Heavensbee three weeks ago. By now, everyone is aware that about a week ago, a case was presented to the Council for the law to be abolished. The case was summarily dismissed. Could the presence of Haymitch Abernathy at the Capitol and the case heard by the Council during the same week be a coincidence? Or is our veteran hero behind this movement? We, in the City Gazette would like to think that they are, in fact, related.
"Movement?" Haymitch commented as he took another bite of his sandwich. "I am not – this is not a movement!"
"Shush, Haymitch. Do you want me to read on or not?"
For some residents in District Two, they seemed to have taken this as a sign to raise their voices and be heard. Haymitch Abernathy, whether he intended to or not, had caused some unrest in District Two with its residents calling for an end to the law.
"The Council never mentioned why it was rejected," says Gale Hawthorne, "and we would like to know the details of the case brought on before them. This law is an abomination."
Mr Hawthorne refused to comment on whether or not Mr Abernathy was the one who had brought on the case.
Turn to Page 5 for more details on Mr. Abernathy's marriage to Ms. Trinket.
"Do I want to know what's in page 5?" Haymitch asked. The City Gazette was an independent newspaper company without any influence from the current Government. Plutarch had no control over it although with his connections, he had a certain degree of influence. However, Haymitch doubted that Plutarch had anything to do with the article.
Effie looked worriedly at Haymitch. "Should we? I think we should. They're printing stories about us!"
She turned the pages and Haymitch instantly knew she was on page 5 when the same picture from months ago taken during their wedding night was printed at the top of the page. Effie read out loud as he listened.
Haymitch Abernathy and Effie Trinket tied the knot on 30 June last year. The former mentor and escort to District Twelve had known each other for close to twenty years, having worked together as colleagues during the Hunger Games. It came as a surprise to many that they chose to marry the other under this law. For those who had ever seen them together before the Rebellion could attest to their obvious disdain for each other and their constant arguments were testament to the kind of relationship they had prior to the marriage.
"Do we really argue that much? On national television for everyone to see?" Effie asked.
"Not so much when the cameras were around but people talked, other mentors and escorts, and stylist, you know how it is," he replied. "And we wouldn't be arguing that much if you weren't such an irritating, old –"
Effie cut him off and continued reading the article, not really in the mood to have him insult her behaviour.
With such strong, clashing personalities, it is not at all surprising that Mr Abernathy would want to dissolve his marriage. The City Gazette strongly believed that Mr. Abernathy did not visit the Capitol to catch up with his friend and fellow Rebel leader, Mr. Plutarch Heavensbee. His presence at the Capitol was for a reason – to put an end to the law.
In a recent twist to the on-going saga between the two, Ms Trinket, is currently pregnant with his child. Had the Council taken Mr. Abernathy's case seriously, the child would be without a father and would the pristine Ms Trinket, the once fashion icon of the country, give up her child for the glory of her former life? What is the real motivation behind Haymitch Abernathy's actions? Perhaps being married to a high maintenance Capitol citizen was too much for him to -
"That's enough," Haymitch growled, snatching the paper out of her hand. He balled it in his fist and threw it on the floor in disgust. "They had no right to scrutinize our life like that."
Effie sat stiff on the sofa and stared blankly ahead of her. Her sandwich lay forgotten on the coffee table, cold and untouched.
"Eff?" he called out when he noticed that she had not said a word.
She blinked rapidly to clear the unshed tears in her eyes. "I – uh, I think I'm going to lie in," she stood up, "maybe take a nap."
His eyes followed her out of the room in bewilderment. Was she upset by the article?
Unsure of what just happened; Haymitch did something he would never have done before – he started clearing up the living room. He picked the newspaper he had cast aside and threw it in the fireplace. Not one to throw away food, Haymitch took Effie's sandwich and kept it away in the kitchen for her to reheat if she was hungry. He went as far as to wash her glass of ice tea and wiped the coffee table clean. Convinced that Effie would have gotten herself under control during the few minutes he spent cleaning, he went to seek her out.
She was sitting at the edge of the bed, one hand clutching a throw pillow and as he approached her, he saw that she was staring at a sonogram.
"I'm not giving her up, Haymitch," she whispered softly, never taking her eyes of the picture.
"Her? It's a girl?"
Haymitch approached Effie cautiously. He was wary of her being emotionally unstable, the way the pregnancy pamphlet had warned him about.
"I don't know," she sniffed, "I just think it's a girl. It would be nice to have a little girl. The doctor said it's too early to tell, that … she said something about external genitals still not developed enough to confirm."
She turned to look at him, dark blue eyes shining with tears. Haymitch sat next to her on the bed. He was at a loss and unsure of himself. If there was one thing he couldn't tolerate was when someone was crying and he sure as hell have no idea how to console them. Every fibre of his being was screaming for him to flee. The logical course of action would be to get either Katniss or Peeta. Surely they would know better on how to handle this kind of situation. Haymitch was never good company and Effie would certainly want someone who could offer her words of comfort and make her feel better. That person wasn't him. His role in her life was to drive her insane, insult her and laugh at her as he teased her about one thing or the other; those are the things came naturally to him.
"I'm not that person anymore; the one you knew from the Games. I won't give her up for anything. How am I supposed to go back to being me – to care about the latest fashion or trend – when I have a life growing inside of me? Do you know how surreal it feels? I never thought it would happen to me, Haymitch, but it has and it's wonderful," she laughed and hiccupped.
Despite his misgivings, Haymitch stayed. He knew he was a less than stellar husband and he had never been very supportive of her pregnancy but he wasn't completely mean and heartless either. He supposed all he needed to do was sit and listen to her. That shouldn't be too difficult. Haymitch stretched over to her night stand and handed the tissue papers to her.
"I hate the morning sickness, the nausea, the frequent need to pee or how tender my breasts are right now-" Haymitch coughed and cleared his throat, not at all aware about the issue with her tender breasts – "but I look at this picture and … that's my baby. She's so tiny I can't believe I'm carrying her. Look at her, how can something so small exist?"
Her hand fluttered to her stomach and she handed the sonogram to Haymitch. He had never seen it before, having never once accompanied Effie for her check-up. He stared at the black and white photograph and squinted, unable to discern any shape that would indicate a human life.
"It's a – pretty," he said lamely.
"Pretty?" Effie frowned slightly before a small smile grace her face. "You can't see a thing, can you? It's that little black dot in the middle of the white? That's her."
He shook his head and returned the sonogram back to her.
"Ah, I don't understand it," he admitted.
"Maybe when you're a little bigger," Effie whispered, tucking the sonogram carefully in front of the picture frame of herself and Haymitch, "then maybe daddy can see you."
Haymitch sucked in a breath and held it as he internalised what Effie just said. He could feel his heart thudding in his ribcage and he was certain Effie could hear it too. His chest ache with a feeling he couldn't describe and Haymitch swallowed. Daddy. It sounded so unfamiliar and yet, coming from Effie, it sounded natural.
"Eff – "
"I'm not that Capitol citizen anymore, you know. I fought for your side because of my sister, I was held a prisoner, tortured within an inch of my life and – I'm just… I'm not who the article said I am," Effie said sadly.
"I know, sweetheart. The article's rubbish but at least the paper is letting the world know what's happening in other districts, yeah? That's a good thing – exposure."
"Is it true then that you're doing this because being married to a Capitol woman was too much for you? I'm not that high maintenance, Haymitch. I could learn to live like Katniss and like – like any other women here. I could live a simple life. I want to."
The tears came unbidden to her eyes again and she tried desperately to stop it. She pressed her face to the pillow but the one thing that stood out to Haymitch was her complete willingness to change. The Effie he knew ten years ago would not even have entertained such thoughts. Sure, he knew she had a heart because she cared enough for her dead sister and her tributes but being brought up in the Capitol meant that Effie was used to having the best of everything.
"No," Haymitch answered, touching her arm lightly. "No, Effie. That's not the reason."
Maybe it was his touch that made her do it or maybe she just needed some comfort, but Effie turned sideways and buried her face in his chest. His arms came to wrap around her shaking body awkwardly. Haymitch stroked her hair as he held her in his arms.
"Then why, Haymitch? Being married to me can't be at all that horrible."
Haymitch could barely make out her muffled sobs and when she asked him that question, he had no idea what to answer. He had done it because he didn't want to remain married to her. He wanted to be free and he was convinced that she deserved the same, too. But he wasn't so sure now. His eyes fell on the sonogram on the night stand, to his child in her womb pressed softly in between them. A child that will be taken away from him if the law was abolished and he let her ago.
"Because it's wrong, Effie," he said, his mouth pressed against the side of her head. "It's not about us, anymore. There are people out there who are suffering because of this law."
She pulled away. Effie wiped the snot coming out of her nose and the tears streaming down her face and nodded. The sight of her crying was unattractive and Haymitch bit the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from laughing. She would not appreciate it and will most definitely call him rude.
"I understand. I do. I just wish - "
"You just wish what?"
"I wish that you could accept me. That I'm good enough for you", but the words died on her lips.
"Nothing," she said instead, smiling lightly and shaking her head. "A fool's wish."
A/N - Just to clear things up, in this timeline, Effie should be about, 10 weeks pregnant and that sonogram was taken much much earlier during her pre-natal check up (I googled how a 5 weeks old sonogram looks like and all i saw was a black dot, so... yeah).
Remember the strawberries craving. It will play a role in the future chapters. Hope that was an enjoyable read and as always, reviews love.