Chapter 6

On the top of a gentle hill, the late afternoon sun was shining on a group of young birch trees. Beside the trees stood a man, dressed in black, his hands holding a bunch of white calla lilies. Her favourite flowers. The flowers of her wedding bouquet so many years before.

"Hi, honey."

Haymitch's gaze fell on the depressing, grey tombstone in front of him. His eyes scanned the inscription, as they had so many countless times before. Slowly, he went down on his heels and laid the delicate flowers carefully on the cold grave. His fingers stroked the cool, dark gravestone gently.

"Honey..." He cleared his throat, his tongue heavy, he barely knew how to start. "I'm no longer alone."

He felt as if he had done high treason.

"Everything started with..." Haymitch swallowed hard and searched for the right words. "I took one of my students on my way home to Lynch, later, her mother tried to kill herself and she doesn't have any money, or family, only a little sister with a cat, so I suggested…" His usually rough voice sounded beaten, broken to his ears, "That the younger sister could stay with me until a solution is found..."

Haymitch shook his head resignedly. Had he really travelled the long way up to Washington D.C. to ask his late wife for her permission to have a thirteen-year-old girl and her cat stay with him until her older sister had found a proper solution for their future?

It seemed so.

Why his wife had fallen in love with him, he still didn't know. Effie Trinket could have had any young man; she had been charming, attractive and full of life. There had been hardly anyone on campus who didn't turn their head around when she walked by in her fancily designed clothes. Compared to her, he was an uncultivated country bumpkin from a dump in the middle of nowhere. The only thing he had going for him was his sense of humour. He could make her laugh.

Always.

When they had literally run into each other in Richmond – fighting over the last remaining piece of cheesecake in the canteen – she had been a headstrong and independent young woman. Successfully, she had defied her wealthy parents who wanted her to study in Harvard instead of a small provincial university. She had taken it into her pretty head to reach her goal alone without the overwhelming influence of her father.

Therefore, a small town university was the perfect place for her architecture studies. Her timeless taste and designs were extraordinary and brilliant. Every teacher predicted a glorious, bright career and nothing seemed to stand in her way.

Nothing. Except fate itself.

He was still able to hear the cold, impersonal words of faceless doctors who told him that the tumour was inoperable and a treatment would not show any effect. Helplessly, he was forced to watch his young, beloved wife die. Slowly and painfully.

A cool wind had risen in the graveyard, brushing Haymitch's pale hair out of his face as he remembered the day when her life-supporting systems were finally turned off.
Furious that all his money and influence had not saved the life of his only daughter, his father-in-law swore that Haymitch would never receive a single cent of the Trinket assets.

He still snorted at the memory; he'd never given a damn about the cursed money; nonetheless, the court of Columbia conferred the legal share of several million dollars on Haymitch. Until now, he'd barely touched it, using only a small amount of it to fulfil Effie's last wish, building her dream house after her own design.

There had been days in his life, when he had wished he had never built the mansion, that her brilliant plans had simply burned. Every time he walked through the front door, he was reminded that the future they'd dreamed of was lost forever.

Haymitch slowly rose and straightened, his eyes wandering over the countless graves that lay before him. One day, he knew, he would be by her side again. But should he not have a little piece of happiness before that day, he wondered?

…

Primrose Everdeen was a sensitive, friendly teenage girl. Her sole desire was to help. Everyone. She had been able to feel Haymitch's pain, the moment her gaze fell on his dark, bitter face, the forehead marked with deep worry lines.

Patiently, she had stayed in his car when he entered the churchyard. Primrose knew that she wasn't allowed to disturb him during this very private moment. She could only hope that he would find peace for his tormented soul. Just as she had done at the grave of her beloved father.

Getting slowly into the car, Haymitch was lost in depressing thoughts as he peered out of the windscreen.

"Do you know what always helps me when I'm feeling sad?" She asked gently.

"No." Haymitch sighed deeply and shifted his focus from the cemetery wall to Primrose.

"Kitten pictures of my Buttercup." She smiled wholeheartedly at him.

Without asking, she pulled her old mobile phone out of her jacket pocket and showed him a selection of pictures of her beloved kitty cat.

The only thing Haymitch could see was an ugly yellow cat with the eyes of Satan.

"He was so cute, wasn't he?" The girl beamed at him.

Although this cat had only lived with him for two weeks, that beast had already managed to scratch his curtains, dig out all his potted plants, and steal the precious Koi fish from the neighbour's garden pond. The 'sweet kitten' had bitten Haymitch's hands bloody, when he had received the doubtful honour of putting the nightmarish creature into its travel basket as they prepared to leave Lynch.

Cute was the last word in a long row which came to his mind when he was asked to describe this cat. He would propose; monster, beast, devil.

However, Haymitch couldn't help himself, he smiled lightly. He understood that Prim wanted to help in her own way.

"Cute," He lied through his teeth. "Really cute."

Haymitch started the SUV smoothly; he had bought the new car after successfully convincing Katniss to leave the small village together with her younger sister, thinking that now Prim was largely his responsibility he should make sure he was able to drive her to school without worrying about his car breaking down.

It had been a difficult and almost impossible task for Haymitch to convince her that she deserved so much more than a simple life in a shabby mining town. Finally, with a near endless succession of logical arguments and no small amount of persuasive power, he had managed to get her to move.

To avoid unpleasant questions, Haymitch had decided to tell everyone that Primrose was the daughter of his late cousin. The idea was not absurd, as most of the inhabitants of the small community of Lynch were related. If someone were to trace back the family trees of the Abernathys and the Everdeens, common ancestors would be unearthed within the last century.

A generous check helped him to find a private school for Prim. He was sure his actions would please Effie.

Haymitch cleared his throat. "Okay, Primrose..."

"Prim."

"Okay, Prim, any ideas for what we could do next weekend?"

For the last years, he had spent the weekends sipping whiskey behind closed curtains. With the arrival of the youngest Everdeen in his house, he had poured his remaining alcohol stock resolutely down the toilet.

As a show of gratitude, his body had sent him migraines and palpitations by return, along with even more trembling hands than before. Haymitch had received a ton of pills from his doctor, who explained that these symptoms of alcohol withdrawal were only temporary. He must agree to stay under medical observation for at least three months and also to start psychotherapy as soon as possible if he wanted to stay sober. Grudgingly, Haymitch had given in.

"We could go to the cinema, or the zoo..." Haymitch suggested lamely. He had not the slightest idea what was popular among teenagers nowadays.

"Oh, no." Prim laughed. "The zoo isn't that interesting anymore, most teenagers prefer hanging around in shopping malls all day." From the corner of her eye, she could see how Haymitch winced in his seat as he heard the word "shopping".

Delighted, she released him from his suffering. "You're lucky; I don't like malls. What about an afternoon of games? I know Katniss would love that."

Haymitch breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't play poker for a long time, it could be fun.

"Now it's your choice: Scrabble or Monopoly?" She beamed at him.

Haymitch swallowed hard and looked straight ahead at the road before him. If someone had told him last month that he'd be spending his precious Saturday afternoons playing Monopoly, he would never have believed them.

…

"I wanted Park Place," Prim complained.

"You've already got Pacific Avenue, little duck, you can't have all of them!" Katniss said kind-heartedly. It was always hard for her to deny her beloved baby sister anything.

All of them were sitting around the dining room table in his cosy house on campus, playing their second game of Monopoly. Katniss had won the first time and she was close to winning again.

Haymitch's ambition was set within modest boundaries, as he'd spent most of the current game in jail or locked into his own private war with the income tax. On his next go, his boot made yet another acquaintance with the unloved tax man and he was forced to hand over his last remaining dollars to the bank manager, Primrose Everdeen.

"Game over, I'm bankrupt," Haymitch announced as he leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head.

"Oh no, that can't happen! The bank granted you a generous credit of 4000 dollars," Prim said hopefully.

He had to smile; she was the nicest human being he had ever met. He wished her older sister had just a little bit of it.

"Thanks, but I'm out of the game." He rose to his feet and looked with a wink from one to the other. "May the best win."

As he passed Prim, he smirked at her conspiratorially and hissed, "Make her bleed!"

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Prim grinned back.

Katniss realized painfully that Prim and Haymitch had allied against her after knowing each other for only three weeks. She didn't much like this development. Her eyes followed her professor, who disappeared in the direction of the kitchen with a nearly-empty glass of water in his hand.

"Have you already settled in?" Katniss asked in a low voice so Haymitch couldn't hear.

"Yes, of course, my host is very nice."

Katniss raised her eyebrows questioningly. "Meaning what?"

Prim rolled her cornflower-blue eyes playfully. "I'm allowed to stay out till midnight and to hang around with boys…"

"What?"

Prim had to laugh as she looked into Katniss's horrified face.

"It was a joke!" She smirked, then answered more seriously. "We hardly spend any time together. He takes me to school in the morning; I come back by bus at four p.m. He corrects exam papers, I study in my room, well, that's it, nothing special..."

Katniss gave Prim a critical look.

"What else would you like to know? He makes sure the refrigerator is filled with healthy food, he gave me the nicest room in the whole house and he even tried to cook last Sunday." Prim giggled at the memory. "Unfortunately, he burned the home-made pizza, so we ended up at a Mexican Grill." She shrugged her shoulders. "He's nice and tries his best."

Katniss could see that her little sister was doing well. But why Professor Abernathy had changed his whole life for them, remained a mystery to her.

"What do you think, Prim? ... Why's he doing all this for us?"

"I have no idea." Prim shrugged her shoulders and smiled innocently at her older sister with her bright eyes.

…

It was late when Haymitch accompanied Katniss to the front door. A light spring rain had started, and Haymitch had insisted she travel home by taxi instead of walking.

"Haymitch," She began hesitantly as he opened the front door. "I would like to say thank you, for everything." Her gaze fell on her slender hands; she could feel her face heating up. She wasn't used to saying words like this to anyone. She took a deep breath before she continued. "Prim and I are forever in your debt; we'll never be able to repay you for everything you've done."

"Katniss, you don't owe me anything." Haymitch looked down at her, his voice grave, intense. "I'm the one who has to thank you."

Confused, with a light frown on her face she looked up into his clear eyes.

"I've never had a real reason to stop drinking. Now, thanks to being responsible for your sister, everything's changed." He swallowed hard, cleared his voice and shifted his gaze from her fine face to the wooden floor. "Who knows?" He shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "Maybe meeting you both has made me a better man..."

Katniss took a close look at him. She was aware of the small wrinkles around his eyes and the far deeper ones on his forehead. However, his usual tired face expression had changed in the last few weeks. She was able to see a small sparkle in his keen eyes. His former shuffling gait was lighter, straighter than before. He looked younger, rested, much better than when she'd met him for the first time several months ago at her first lecture. Stopping drinking did him good, she thought.

"Better?" Her voice reflected surprise. "I've never met anyone who is more generous or noble than you."

He stared at her, perplexed, and almost burst out laughing.

"Noble? Jesus, Katniss! What are you reading in your free time, the dictionary?" He had raised an eyebrow and was trying his best to sound as mocking as he could, but his shaking voice spoiled the effect.

As far as he knew, the words "noble" and "Haymitch Abernathy" did not go together. He was still able to hear the insulting words of his father-in-law, who had loved to remind him that he wasn't worth a single cent. Resolute, he shoved the painful memories away and thanked the young woman.

His gaze remained on her bright, dark eyes. Until now he had never met someone like her. She was a survivor, with a rare, unbreakable inner strength which kept her and her loved ones alive, and he realised at last that she did have a winning personality after all, a charm that was all her own – different from her sister's, but no less pleasing.

Gently, he raised his hand to her face and brushed back a dark lock of her hair, feeling the young woman tremble at his touch.

The dissonant sound of a car horn brought Haymitch back to the present. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat and stepped away from his student.

Once more, the taxi driver honked his horn and the precious moment was over.

Haymitch took a deep breath, cursing himself for the mistake he had just made, and said a sharp and brief goodnight to Katniss.

Her confused eyes followed him as he turned on his heel and threw the front door into the lock with a bang.