Chapter Fifteen
Peeta and I continue to talk, this time our conversation being less serious and more trivial.
I learn that Peeta is seventeen. His favourite colour is orange, and when I asked if it is like Effie Trinket's wig, he says, "No. It's more muted, like the sunset." He likes to paint, though he doesn't have much time to do it because of school and the hours he spends working in the bakery. He tells me that if he could go to any district, it would be District 4, because he wants to experience the feel of sand between his toes and paint the ocean view.
I close my eyes and imagine the ocean as he describes the different shades of blue and green he would use to capture the image on a canvas. I can't help but wish I could go there also. I open my eyes when his voice trails off, only to find him looking at me. My cheeks grow warm and my eyes move to the floor. I clear my throat.
"What do you think your future would have been like? If this hadn't happened, I mean," I question.
"Things would pretty much be the same as they are now, I guess. I would have eventually left school, taken over the bakery once my parents retired, and most definitely would have married and have children. I have always wanted a family. What would your future be like?"
I shrug a little. "I'd probably continue to live here. I'd work in the mines, and hunt whenever I had the time. I would never marry, That is something I have never wanted, but if I had to, it would probably be with Gale - just because it would make sense. I don't see Gale like that. I often think of him as a brother. I always assumed he thought of me as a sister. I wish he felt that way. I hate knowing that I have been the cause of his pain."
We sit in silence for a few minutes, the quiet comfortable.
"Do you regret that night in the meadow?" Peeta asks, breaking the short silence. I have to think before I reply.
"I don't know. I did at first. I didn't know you, I kind of still don't. I thought you would tell your friends, have everyone call me a Seam slut... However, I know your not like that now. I should have known you wouldn't say a word. You are just too good of a person to do something like that. When I found out about the baby, the first time, I thought of it as a mistake. I felt like an irresponsible mistake had resulted in the creation of a mistake. To me, it was just another mouth to feed. Then, I lost it. I can't describe how low I felt. I never want to feel like that again. So, the second time I found out, I felt like I had been given a second chance. I'm still not ecstatic about it, but I'm not wishing him or her away this time."
I pause and look up at Peeta.
"That wasn't really an answer to your question, was it? Do I regret it?" I think for a few seconds. "Ask me again - not now - but in a few years. I'm sure I will have a real answer then."
The time passes by and, once Prim arrives home from school, Peeta stands up to leave. I instantly worry for him. Is his mother going to hurt him again? Is it safe for him to go back there?
"Wait," I call out as he starts down the path. He turns to face me. "If she hurts you again, you are always welcome to stay here. Or even if you just want to get away for a while."
"Thank you, Katniss," is all he says, his eyes full of gratitude, before he continues down the path. I watch him limp away until he is out of sight.
As soon as I am back inside, Prim starts inquiring about what transpired while she was at school.
"Did you talk?" she asks.
"Yes," I reply.
"What did you say?" Prim presses.
"Primrose!" mother scolds. "Give your sister some privacy."
"It's okay," I say. "I told him I'd marry him."
"Really?" Prim squeaks, her eyes growing wide.
I nod. "It's for the best. I can't only think about myself anymore. I have a baby to think of. And it would be good to get Peeta away from his mother."
"I think you're making the right decision, Katniss. Peeta is a good boy. You are lucky he is willing to step up to the responsibility of being a father," my mother says.
"I know."
The next day, at lunch, I watch as Peeta walks into the cafeteria and heads to the table I share with Madge. He doesn't seem to care that all the attention is on him.
"Can I sit here?" he asks, looking from Madge to me.
Madge nods while I can't seem to form a word. He sits down beside me and I am relieved when I realise he doesn't have any new wounds.
He turns to look at me and smiles. "How are you feeling?" he asks, looking me up and down as if to check that I am still in one piece.
"I'm fine. How are you feeling?" I ask.
"Much better," he replies.
"Did anything happen when you went home yesterday?" I ask.
"She yelled a lot, but dad made sure she didn't touch me. I have to pack my stuff up and leave by the end of the week."
"What are you going to do?" Madge asks, her blue eyes wide as she listens to what Peeta has to say.
Peeta shrugs, not knowing what to say. He opens his mouth but I speak before he has a chance to. "We will get married."
"Katniss," Peeta starts, getting ready to refuse.
"Sunday," I say in a voice so quiet only he and Madge can hear me.
Peeta looks at me with wide eyes. "You're serious?"
I nod. "It's going to have to happen sooner or later. If we do it now, then at least we will be settled in by the time the baby is here. It makes sense."
"But we're under eighteen, we need parent permission," Peeta replies.
"I will have my mother speak to your father," I say.
"Okay," he says. He looks at me, really looks at me, before he speaks again. "But are you really sure you want to do this, Katniss? This is a big thing and everything seems to be happening a little too fast. You can change your mind."
"Peeta," I say, my voice firm. "We will get married this Sunday."
That day, after school, I approach my mother while Prim is doing homework. "Can we talk?" I start, grabbing her attention.
Mother stops washing the dishes at the sink, and dries her hands on a cloth, before she comes to sit at the table with me. "Of course. What is it?" she asks.
"Peeta's mother wants him out by the end of the week. I told him we will go to the Justice Building on Sunday but…" I trail off.
"You don't know where to start?" my mother says, filling in for me.
"Right," I say with a loud sigh.
"I am happy to give my permission and I am almost certain Peeta's father will, although I will speak to him to confirm that. I'll go to the Justice Building tomorrow and arrange for a time on Sunday."
"Thank you. Sunday is going to be a busy day. We will have to move our belongings into our new home and buy furniture."
"There is furniture here you can take. You can have the rocking chair from the living room and the mattress you and Prim currently share. I'm sure she won't mind sharing with me for a while," mother says.
"You don't need to do that. Peeta will certainly have a mattress that we can use," I say, before I realise what that actually means. We will be sharing a bed. That is very much normal for husband and wife, but even the thought of getting married is hard to digest. It's only this second that I am fully processing what is happening. I'm getting married. I'm having a baby. I'm going to move in with a boy I have only recently spoken to for the first time.
"Hazelle and I have been talking and she mentioned that Posy is too big for her cot now. She wants you to have it. She also has clothes that the baby can wear. They are not brand new, but you can't be fussy. Let's be grateful she is willing to give us those things. I don't want you to worry too much about anything, it isn't good for you or the baby."
"Give Hazelle my thanks if you see her before I do. And, thank you. I owe you a lot for doing this, and for not being angry with me."
"I'm your mother, Katniss. You owe me nothing. All I hope, is that you are able to care for this child the way I couldn't care for you and Prim. I will never forgive myself for leaving you at a time when you needed me most. You had to grow up so fast, and you became like a parent to Prim. I already know you are going to be an amazing mother. I just hope you believe in yourself and have faith that you will do a good job. I know it is a big thing to ask for, but I hope one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me."
I don't know what to say to that, so I just look at the woman who gave me life. The woman who has done great things; made medicines for the ill, stitched up the wounded, safely delivered babies and comforted those who could not be saved. I did have to grow up quickly. I did do everything in my power to get food on the table so we wouldn't starve. She did leave us at a time we needed her most.
But she is here now.
And, to me, that is all that matters.
I want to say this to her, but find that I can't. Instead, I rest my hand upon hers, and give it a gentle squeeze, hoping my teary smile is enough to make her realise that she is very much so forgiven.