Chapter Seventeen
I have only ever been to one wedding before today, and all I can remember about that one wedding that occurred years and years ago is that it was a simple, meagre day. Today is even more simple than that one wedding.
The documents have been signed, the keys handed over, and there is a small stack of boxes in the hallway to the new home I will share with Peeta. The house is nothing special, but I am grateful for the much needed space. I can only imagine how cramped the conditions would have been if I had chosen to raise my child at home with mother and Prim.
The house is a wooden structure and is old, but sturdy. It is an almost exact replica of the house I lived in with mother and Prim, except there is an extra bedroom. We are lucky to have the extra room, most Seam families have just one bedroom to share between mother, father and children. Outside, like every other house in the Seam, there is a small patch of grass that can be used to grow fruit and vegetables. I immediately plan to go to the Hob later this week to buy different vegetables to plant. My biggest hope is that we will never have to go without food. I know that both Peeta and I will do everything in our power to make sure there will never be a day that our child goes to bed hungry.
The short hallway beyond the entrance to the house leads to a small kitchen. To the right of the hallway sits a tiny living room, where a worn sofa, an old radio and a small television has been left behind. I know there is a big possibility that the previous owner dd, and that's why some furniture remains. The thought makes me tremble, but I am grateful for the much needed furniture.
The only time the television screen will turn on is during the Hunger Games, when a male and female from each of the districts is chosen to fight to the death in an arena, until one person survives. The Capitol think it's a game. I think it's disgusting.
To the left of the hallway, stairs lead up to the two bedrooms and bathroom. Each bedroom has a bed frame and a set of drawers. The extra bed frame will be useful for when our child grows too big for the cot that Hazelle is allowing us to have. The bathroom is the smallest room, with only a tub, a sink and toilet. Cobwebs hang from each corner of the room and the thick layer of dust on the tub begs for a clean. First thing tomorrow, I will start cleaning my new home from top to bottom, and take note of anything that needs to be repaired or replaced.
Mother has decided to cook a meal for everyone to celebrate the day, hoping to make it feel more like a wedding. "And in the evening," Prim says, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she continues, "we can turn on the old radio and sing and dance. It has been so long since we did that. We haven't done it since..."
She trails off, but I fill in for her. "Ever since father died." I tug on one of her braids to cheer her up and flash her a small smile.
"He would have loved to be here," mother speaks up. I feel my eyes fill with tears, but quickly blink them away.
A small commotion at the front door distracts me from the sad conversation, and I walk over to find Peeta struggling to carry a stack of boxes. I immediately take the top one out of his grip, and he flashes me a smile full of gratitude.
"Thank you. My art supplies are in there and, if I had dropped them, there would have been a big mess, which is the last thing we need. There is already so much to do. We need to unpack, maybe paint the walls, and get some furniture. I want to make this house a home."
I smile at him, feeling too overwhelmed to speak. I watch as he places the stack of boxes on the floor, before he turns to me once again. "During the time we have left before the baby comes, I would like us to talk more, to get to know each other properly."
"I'm not very good at talking," I admit, and he laughs. "And I have nothing interesting to share, so conversation would be extremely boring for you."
"That's not true. Talk about the things you love; Prim, the woods and singing."
"Singing?" I repeat, my tone suggesting my bewilderment. "What makes you think I sing?"
Peeta suddenly looks sheepish. He swallows and looks down at the floor. "I heard you a long time ago, back when you would wear your hair in two braids instead of one and, when you sang, even the birds stopped to listen."
"You remember that?" I ask.
"I remember everything about you, Katniss."
I open my mouth to speak again, but mother interrupts us, announcing that dinner is almost ready and asking for us to set the table. The distraction is a relief, because I have no idea what I would have said to Peeta.
I work in silence as I set the table with the old cutlery that mother insisted I bring with me. The once silver cutlery items are now a dull grey and the floral table cloth has dark stains on the light material.
Once the table has been set and the food cooked, we all sit at the table and begin to eat. I sit in a peaceful silence while the others make friendly conversation.
"Will you be going back to school immediately?" Mr Mellark asks, looking at both Peeta and I for an answer.
"I didn't realise we could take time off," I admit, glancing at Peeta.
"You're only allowed up to a week," Madge explains. "It's just a short period of time so you can get settled."
"Well, the time will definitely be useful. We have so many things to do that need to be complete before the baby comes," Peeta says.
"You're not meant to take the time off to do housework," Peeta's oldest brother says as he chews on his food. His eyes shine with amusement. "You're supposed to do other, more adventurous and fun acts."
I become confused at his words, but one look at Peeta's blushing face is enough to make me realise what his brother is suggesting. Mr Mellark clears his throat, looking at his son with a stern expression on his face.
"Come on," Peeta's brother speaks again. "Lighten up. The atmosphere in this room would make you believe mother is here." He laughs. "I'm just giving useful advice. When the baby arrives you won't have any spare time or privacy. You should enjoy your time together now, if you know what I mean."
I feel my own face heat up, and I can't help but feel mortified that he is saying this in front of not just his father, but my mother and Prim, the latter looking just as confused as I had felt only a moment ago.
"That's enough," Peeta says, an edge to his voice.
"Just think, you wouldn't have to be careful because she's already pregnant."
"Right," Mr Mellark says, standing up abruptly. "I think it is time we leave. Thank you for the wonderful meal." He turns to Peeta and I. "Congratulations."
"Thank you," I say, forcing myself to speak. "But you don't have to leave."
"Mrs Mellark will be expecting us back by now. It's better we leave now."
"I'll walk with you," Madge says. She comes closer to me. "Congratulations, Katniss."
"Thank you for coming," I tell her and walk her to the door.
It's just mother, Prim, Peeta and I remaining when they have all trailed out. I sit back at the kitchen table as an awkward silence takes over the room. "I am so sorry about that," Peeta finally says.
"It's okay," I say, giving him a reassuring smile.
"Prim and I will help you clean up before we leave," mother tells us, as she stands and collects the empty plates.
"No. Thank you, but it's fine. I am feeling tired and would like to go rest. You go home and I'll do the cleaning tomorrow," I say, and mother nods before she collects her things together and prepares to leave.
"Congratulations," she says, as I walk her and Prim to the door.
"You looked beautiful today, Katniss," Prim says, giving me a quick hug.
"Thank you. I will see you soon," I say, before I watch them leave.
I go to the bathroom once they have left to splash water onto my face and brush my teeth clean. I take my hair down from the intricate style before I style it in my usual braid. I then step out of the blue dress and into comfortable bed clothes.
I go to my bedroom once I have finished preparing myself for bed, and slide between the sheets. Peeta and his father had brought his mattress over earlier on in the day and mother then supplied the sheets and blankets.
Peeta enters the room a while later and stops when he sees me under the covers. "Sorry. I was just coming to grab some things so I can sleep downstairs," he says.
"You don't have to do that," I tell him.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Katniss," he insists.
"Peeta, I am fine. We've done a lot more than just sleep beside each other. I want you to sleep comfortably. Sleep here."
Peeta stares at me for a while, as if waiting for me to change my mind, before he nods his head and walks closer to the bed. He slides under the covers, taking care not to touch me. I turn onto my side, my eyes falling on the candle on the set of drawers. It is the only source of light in the room and I watch it intently as the small flame dances, wax trailing down the side of the candle.
"This will take some getting used to," Peeta speaks up.
"Yes," I say. "But I think we will do just fine living here."
"It's been a long day. You must be exhausted. Goodnight, Katniss," Peeta whispers.
"Goodnight, Peeta," I reply and, with that, I close my eyes.
The soft sound of Peeta's breathing is what lulls me to sleep that night and, in the morning when I wake, I realise something spectacular.
My sleep, which is usually haunted by images of my father being blown to smithereens in a mine explosion, is void of any images. For the first time in years, I didn't have a nightmare.