A/N: Thanks, as always, to dandelionsunset for her beta work and greenwool for her pre-read. They both have new chapters up on their own material, so be sure to check them out.
Chapter 39—Moving Day
Sunday sucked.
Sundays used to be a day of relative leisure and rest. Now, they were a twelve-hour grind of trying to get the bakery caught up. It was never enough but it had to be done. The worst part was Marigold. With no customers around to overhear her, she spent the entire day in an endless litany of insults and complaints.
Rye was exhausted. The days were beginning to blur together in an unbroken chain of work, school, rehearsals and toastings. He gave serious thought to canceling rehearsal that night but decided against it. They needed the practice and honestly, it was about the only fun thing he ever did anymore. So he dragged himself to the Mayor's house, as usual.
The state of Katniss' face almost made him wish he'd called it off.
"Everdeen!" he stormed over to her. "What the hell happened to your face?"
Katniss, who was talking quietly with Madge, Mr. Undersee, Prim and Peeta, told him about the drunk wedding guest. Peeta moved behind Katniss as she spoke and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. He buried his face into her shoulder and murmured something to her—an apology, it sounded like—and Katniss patted his hand and whispered something back. Peeta shook his head but didn't say anything else.
The arrival of Dalton, Mandor and Brock meant Katniss had to re-tell the story. Rye could tell she was already getting annoyed. "Everybody quit looking at me like that, it's just a scrape!" she said huffily. "Trust me, I've had much worse."
"It isn't just the injury, it's how you got it that has us upset," Madge explained. "Who was it, anyway?"
"Oh," Katniss said, the question taking her by surprise. "Um, I don't actually know."
"Amos Tucker," the Mayor said quietly.
Peeta and Rye both swore. Katniss raised an eyebrow in question. "Will's father," Peeta explained.
"Great," Katniss mumbled. "What will happen to Mr. Tucker?"
"If he pays his fine? Nothing. He goes home," the Mayor told them. "If he doesn't, he stays in jail and does hard labor until his fine is considered paid in full. Here in Twelve, that means working in the mines."
Everybody got quiet for a moment, so Rye told them to set up for rehearsal. Prim approached him as he unpacked his guitar.
"Rye?" she asked him quietly, "why didn't somebody wait with Katniss until Peeta showed up?"
Rye shrugged, "We just assumed he'd be there. And it's not like Katniss can't take care of herself."
Prim stood toe to toe with him, her eyes bright with emotion. "She can take care of herself in the woods, Rye. In town, she's just a girl from the Seam. You haven't seen what can happen to the women in this District who get caught out there alone. I have."
"Oh. I didn't...that just...never occurred to me." He wondered why it hadn't and suddenly felt like an idiot.
Prim sighed and glanced over at Katniss, who was talking with Peeta, Madge and the Mayor. Peeta was still clinging to Katniss like he thought she might float away.
"Hey," he told her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I'm really sorry. It won't happen again, OK? I promise."
Prim nodded and headed back to her seat. Rye watched her retreating back for a moment as he tuned his guitar, feeling like he'd missed something.
Rye was not a sensitive guy. Sensitive was Peeta's thing, not his. But even Rye could tell that something was bothering Prim. He had apologized for being such an ass the night the twins were born. On the surface, everything seemed okay.
But "okay" wasn't the same thing as "back to normal." Before, Prim had been all easy hugs and little-girl giggles. Now, she held herself apart from him. He wasn't quite sure what was wrong or how he could fix it. All he knew was that, for a little while, he'd had one person in his life who had been unconditionally happy to see him and he'd fucked it up.
Rye looked around. Prim was sitting quietly, looking down at her hands. Peeta still had his arms tightly wrapped around Katniss and he wore a tortured look on his face that said, I blame myself. Madge and the Mayor were whispering, the Mayor shaking his head. The other band members looked around awkwardly, unsure how to handle what had happened to their lead singer. The atmosphere in the room was all gloom and doom. Time to lighten things up.
"Everdeen!" he shouted. "Stop wearing Peeta like a backpack and get over here. We need to rehearse."
It made Katniss scowl and Peeta blush but a chuckle ran through the room. Katniss got into place. Rye said, "OK, folks. 'White Lightning' from the top."
Rye drove them through the liveliest rehearsal they'd ever had. No love songs or sweet lullabies tonight. They played songs about drinkin', dancin' and scorned women. He had them end the night with a blistering rendition of "Buried," a darkly funny song about a woman who hides the bodies of her husband and his mistress in the backyard. Katniss delivered the song with the perfect touch of sly humor and righteous anger.
It was exactly what everybody needed. He glanced around the room as he packed up his guitar. Dalton, Brock and Mandor were trading loud, vulgar insults. Peeta said something to Madge and Katniss, who both laughed. Prim bounced on her toes as she talked animatedly with Mr. Undersee. Rye said his goodbyes and left, satisfied that he could at least do something right.
Monday was interesting.
Word had spread quickly through the school that "the Everdeen girl kicked Mr. Tucker's ass."
The story grew progressively out of proportion with every retelling. By lunchtime, it was a known fact that Mr. Tucker had attacked Katniss with brass knuckles and that she'd cracked his skull wide open between her bare hands.
For her part, Katniss hated the whispers and stares and extra attention. She ignored her food and fiddled with the end of her braid. When Will walked into the cafeteria and made a beeline for their table, Rye nudged Peeta.
"Peet. Dumbfuck approaching, six o'clock."
Peeta and Katniss looked over their shoulders and watched Peeta's former best friend approach them. The closer Will got, the more uncomfortable he looked, wincing when he saw Katniss' face. He stopped next to them, shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. The cafeteria fell silent, all eyes on their little group.
Will's voice was barely audible. "Hey, uh, Katniss, can I, uh, talk to you for a minute?" He glanced up at her briefly before his eyes slid back down to the floor.
Katniss and Peeta looked at each other, some sort of silent communication passing between them. The two of them stood up in unison. Katniss folded her arms across her chest and looked at Will. Tiny as she was, she still seemed to tower over him. "Go ahead," she said.
Will sighed and swallowed nervously. "Look, um, I'm sorry about my dad. He, uh, sometimes he drinks too much."
Katniss rolled her eyes. "You don't owe me an apology for your father's behavior," she said, placing a slight emphasis on the word "father's." She started to sit back down but Will held his hands out in a pacifying movement.
"Look, I'm sorry about all of it, the, uh, the things I said, um..." Will glanced nervously at Peeta. "I know it wasn't right."
"Then why did you say it?" Peeta asked.
Will shrugged. "I dunno." He kept staring at the floor. After a moment, it was clear that he didn't have anything else to say.
Katniss, who had started fiddling with the end of her braid again, mumbled, "Apology accepted," and sat back down. Peeta remained standing and glared at Will. Will began to shuffle off, when Madge spoke up.
"Where's your father now, Will?"
"In custody," he said, very quietly. "My mom isn't going to pay his fine."
For a Merchant wife to allow her husband to remain in jail, and face the stigma and danger of hard labor in the mines, spoke volumes about the problems Will's father must be causing at home. It didn't excuse Will's appalling treatment of Katniss but it did explain it a little bit.
Peeta must have come to the same conclusion because he punched Will lightly in the shoulder. "Are you done being a jerk to her?"
Will nodded. "Yeah. It won't happen anymore."
"See that it doesn't," Peeta said.
Will finally looked Peeta in the eye. "It won't." Peeta nodded and Will walked away, trying to look as if he wasn't totally aware that everybody was watching him. Once he was gone, people started talking again.
The day only got more interesting. Rye came home from school to find Farl waiting for him in the kitchen. "It's ready," he said, "We'll do it tomorrow."
It took Rye a second to realize what his dad was talking about. The time had come for Marigold to leave. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"A place not too far from the carpenter's house. Lots of empty houses over there, I got one faster than I expected. Have Bannock meet you after school and come here. The three of us will do it then. Don't let Peeta come. She'll be even worse if he's here."
At rehearsal that night, he told Peeta what the plan was and informed the band that Tuesday night's rehearsal was canceled.
Tuesday was exhausting.
Rye waited after school for Bannock. Peeta, Madge, Gale and the Everdeen sisters kept him company. Gale quietly offered to set up a sniper position overlooking the bakery. Madge remarked that Mr. Mellark's application for new housing had been approved in record time. Katniss asked Rye if they'd hidden the knives and rolling pins. It was the sort of joking-not-joking banter that couldn't quite keep the tension at bay.
Prim said nothing at all. She simply took Rye's hand in hers. Rye let himself pretend that it was for her own comfort.
Bannock showed up soon enough and the two of them walked to the bakery. They could hear the screaming blocks away. "Goddammit," Bannock grumbled. "He was supposed to wait for us." They broke into a jog and double-timed it.
The bakery's back door was wide open. A few dozen neighbors stood at a safe distance to listen to Marigold's shrieks. Broken crockery and mixing bowls lay scattered around the back porch. As Rye and Bannock trotted up to the porch, a hand-mixer flew out of the house and landed in the dirt.
The kitchen looked like it had been ransacked. Cabinets had been opened, drawers were overturned, utensils were all over the floor. Paperwork was scattered over one of the tables. Marigold was punching Farl in the chest and screaming full throttle. "I'm not leaving! You can't make me! THIS IS MY HOUSE!" Farl stood there, silent and unmoving, arms crossed over his chest. Rye felt a flash of irritation at his father. Couldn't he at least try and protect their equipment? It was expensive to replace.
"Mother!" Bannock said firmly. "Stop it! Stop this right now. You're embarrassing yourself."
Marigold startled at the sound of her son's voice and turned around. "Get out, Bannock. Go home to that girl you knocked up and those babies I've never seen. This doesn't concern you, anyway." She waved her hand dismissively.
"Actually, it does. I'm here to help you pack," Bannock replied.
That got Marigold's attention. She looked again at Bannock, then noticed Rye standing in the doorway. She turned back to Farl. It took her a moment to cotton on to what it all meant. "Wait. You planned this?" she said accusingly to Farl.
"Yeah, I did," Farl said, his voice cold and distant. "Marigold, you've been out of control for years and I let it happen for far too long. I should have stopped you twenty years ago. But I didn't, so I lost Peeta, I lost Bannock, I lost my grandkids and now I'm about to lose the bakery. This is the only way I can fix things. Here," he gathered up the paperwork and a pen and pushed it in front of her. "Sign."
Marigold ignored the paperwork. She gave a bitter laugh and declared, "No. We aren't going anywhere. I'm not signing a goddamn thing."
Farl sighed and wiped his face with his hands. "Look, Mari. We're out of options. Either you leave with me and we let the boys take over, or the bakery is gone. I found us a little house on the edge of town-"
"God, you're pathetic," Marigold interrupted him. "You always take their side. Always." Marigold's lower lip started to tremble as she worked herself up into a state of self-pity. "I can't believe you'd kick me out of my own home."
Farl gave an indifferent shrug. "I'm not kicking you out, I'm asking you to come with me. Come or don't. Either way, I move out tonight. If you stay here, the bakery is yours but I won't ever come back. I'll start over without you."
"Start over?" There was an edge of panic in her voice that Rye had never heard before. "What do you mean, 'start over?'"
"Just what it sounds like," Farl said. "New home, new job, new people."
Not even Marigold could fail to understand what he meant—bachelor pad, job in the mines, dating other women.
"You'd really do that to me, Farl?" she whispered.
Farl looked down at her, a blank expression on his face. "I never should have married you in the first place, Mari. Biggest mistake of my life." He picked up the pen and held it out towards her.
Marigold's face went white, then red, then white again. Her mouth worked open and closed but no sound came out. She stood frozen for a moment, then let her eyes drift from her husband's face down to the papers. Picking up the pen with shaking hands, she signed them without bothering to read them.
"Go pack your things," he told her. "The boys and I will clean up down here." Marigold turned and stumbled blindly upstairs. Farl started to clean up the wreck in the kitchen. Rye and Bannock went outside to collect whatever Marigold had tossed out.
"What a mess," Bannock muttered. He and Rye salvaged the equipment that had been thrown outside while their neighbors watched. Once that was finished, they continued the cleanup on the kitchen while Farl went upstairs to pack.
An hour later, there was a knock on the back door. Rye answered it. Three men stood on their porch. Behind them, a large truck idled. "Can I help you?" Rye said.
"Movers. You Farl?"
"I'll get him," Bannock said.
For the next two hours, Rye and Bannock continued to clean up while Farl and the movers hauled furniture into the truck. A few suitcases of clothing went into the truck, as well. Not long after the kitchen had been put back into order, Marigold came down the stairs, Farl behind her. She walked out of the bakery without sparing either of her sons so much as a glance.
"We'll be closed tomorrow," Farl said as he stood in the doorway, his hand on the knob. "Peeta can move back in after school. We'll should be able to get up and running again on Thursday. I'll try to stop by tomorrow afternoon but if I can't, I'll be here to help open on Thursday. Your paperwork is on the table." Then he followed his wife, closing the door behind him. A minute later, they heard the truck pull away.
"Well," Bannock sighed, "I suppose it could have gone worse. You're welcome to come over for dinner, by the way."
"Thanks, man, but I'm good." As much as Rye appreciated Bannock for his help, he didn't want to listen to Bannock debrief Nikki on what had happened. Bannock shook his hand and left.
Rye stood in the empty kitchen for a few minutes, then slowly made his way upstairs. With the exception of his room and the bathroom, almost everything from upstairs was gone. Farl and Marigold had left him one chair, a desk, two lamps and a lot of dust bunnies. His steps echoed when he walked.
He swept the floors and went back downstairs. Not knowing what to do with himself, he tried looking over the paperwork his parents had signed. The heading said, "Quitclaim Deed and Title." Rye tried to read it but his eyes kept seeing the words without absorbing them. It was just too quiet.
He jumped when the back door opened. Peeta walked in with his backpack and a pillow case stuffed with clothes. Katniss and Prim were right behind him, holding covered dishes.
"Up for company? We brought dinner," Peeta asked. He set his things down on the floor at the bottom of the staircase. "I'm going to crash here tonight, if that's all right. We can get the rest of my stuff tomorrow. I think Ban and Nik are ready to have their house back." He started to help the girls dish dinner up for the four of them
"Dinner isn't fancy," Katniss said. "Just soup and salad greens."
"And I brought you some goat cheese from Lady," Prim chimed in.
Something was seriously wrong with Rye's vision, so he turned away from them to get cups out of the cupboard. "I'll get us some drinks."
While they ate, Rye told Prim a ridiculously exaggerated version of the conversation with Will in the cafeteria. "Seriously, the poor guy came over to apologize and she punched him in the balls! Can you believe that shit? Then he crapped his pants." Prim and Peeta were helpless with laughter while Katniss scolded him for his language.
After walking the girls home, the boys returned to the quiet of the empty bakery. Rye helped Peeta unpack his things in their old bedroom. Peeta looked around the nearly empty upstairs. "Lotta space up here," Peeta said. "You sure you don't want your own bedroom?"
Rye thought about it for a moment. "Maybe later. I'm too tired to move any furniture tonight."
The brothers went to bed at their usual hour but stayed up late talking and goofing around. It slowly sank in that they could be as loud as they wanted, or talk as late as they wanted, and they wouldn't be punished for it. Eventually, the conversation died down. Things had been silent for several minutes when Peeta said, "You know, Marigold would stroke out if she knew that two hours after she moved out, we'd had Katniss and Prim Everdeen over for dinner."
"Be sure to work it into a conversation next time you see her," Rye chuckled. He grew thoughtful. "It's weird to think that the place is ours now. We can have anybody we like over whenever we want. Hell, we could even start having rehearsals here."
"Well, be sure to invite the Mayor. I think he likes having us over."
"I'll bring it up tomorrow night at rehearsal," Rye decided.
Things got quiet again. Rye was drifting off to sleep when he heard Peeta say, "It's good to be back."
"Yeah?" Rye yawned. "Well, it's good to have you back." For the first time in a long time, Rye fell asleep glad to be where he was.