When the next train arrives, Johanna departs from Twelve.
She has had a brief one-week semi-relationship with Bligh, snubbing him during the day and staying with him at night. She has not once slept in our house, even though she always had lunch with us and even managed to teach our little Tiger to use the litter box. Seemingly unable to call people by their names, she nicknamed Bligh Romeo, because he's too overly romantic and Peeta is already known as the Lover Boy.
Thom, Peeta and I take her and Delly to the train. Delly is going to stay with Jo and Annie in Four so that her pregnancy can be properly examined by doctors with suitable resources at the best maternity of Panem. We expect that she will come back in the train next week.
The Harvest Festival is over. The few outsiders that came to Twelve to attend it are leaving too. I can't fathom why someone would come here just for fun.
The whole medical team, including Dr. Hendricks, takes the train as well. Dr. Hendricks promises a distressed Thom that he will take care of his wife and baby during the journey and, after that, at the hospital. He gives both Peeta and I tight hugs that leave me speechless and Peeta uncomfortable.
"It was a great honor to meet you, Katniss. I hope I'll see the two of you soon," he says with a grin before walking to his assigned wagon.
Johanna is looking around, as if she wants to take every small detail of this place in her memory.
"When will you come back, Jo?" I ask.
"I don't know, maybe next year," she replies with a shrug.
"One year?" I exclaim, "You can't leave us for that long!"
"Oh, Brainless, you won't miss me. You and Lover Boy have each other, Haymitch has Lana… You won't even notice my absence. Annie needs me there," she says.
"Annie has Finn and her parents too. What about Bligh?" I ask.
"Romeo proposed to me last night," Jo replies, "He wants to take part in that Initiative with me. He says we shouldn't be doing what we do unless we're married. That it makes him feel that he's not respecting me or some bullshit like that."
He must have had a traditional education, like we used to have here in the district, or at least that's how my parents raised me. I agree with Bligh's point of view, and I find it coherent and sustainable. At the Capitol, however, everyone used to say people from Twelve were too modest and naïve. Although I admit I'm a little more uptight than Peeta or Haymitch, I know they think about this kind of relationship the same way as Bligh and I do.
"Did you say no?" I guess.
"I said I would think about it," Jo corrects me.
"Will you?" I ask.
"Maybe I will, maybe I won't," she replies, "It's too soon, don't you think?"
"There's no fixed timeline for that," I shrug, "Do you love him?"
"What a thing to ask," she snorts, "To be honest I think he's really sweet, but I'm not sure if I want to commit, and his sense of duty really annoys me."
"Duty?" I ask, perplexed.
"Yeah. He has not once said he wants us to marry because he loves me or that kind of crap. I guess he thinks it's his obligation now that we're having sex," Jo says, dismissive.
"Who's the Brainless one now?" I ask, "He obviously adores you."
"Girl, you're too inexperienced to know how other people feel. Well, at least I know I have given him a good time to be remembered for," she replies with another shrug.
Even though we view life and love in such a different way, I know I have no right to judge her. Johanna is independent and light and she can do whatever she wants to do. She's not bound by cultural thoughts of modesty like me or Bligh. She doesn't see her body as a temple, and Snow made sure she has no family to support her, which means she also has no one to please or disappoint. After all this time she has earned the freedom to live in any way she wants to live, just like Haymitch, Peeta and I. She has a lot of healing to do too, like every one of us.
"But he taught me a big lesson," she says loudly, her jesting face coming back, and I shrink when I imagine what she's going to say next, "You know what they say, short men have them big whereas tall men… Well…"
"Thank you for telling us, Jo," Peeta cringes, "I'll keep that in mind during our sign language class."
She laughs.
Thom has heard what she said and looks like he's cringing too.
"Take care of this little lady, will you?" Thom asks Johanna, "Don't rob my girl of her innocence," he teases, trying to earn a smile from Delly.
"She's safe with me," Jo says, putting her arm around Delly.
We help Delly into the wagon. She's pale, grim, and thinner, there's no trace of the bubbly girl we know, but she still presents a courageous countenance and sends us the occasional reassuring smile. Thom holds her hand the whole time. He can't go with her; he has a lot of meetings this week and they are very important for the district and our people. Delly, always committed to the cause, understands that better than anyone else.
He sits next to his wife, looking at her, one hand holding hers and the other one resting on her belly. I really hope the baby is well. I've been talking to Delly the whole week and she still thinks Thom wants Bristel and not her. I don't know how she can be so blind.
Before the train departs, Peeta and I hug Johanna goodbye and leave the wagon. Thom holds Delly's hand outside of the train, through the open window. When the train finally departs, our eyes watch Jo and Delly wave goodbye until we lose sight of them. Thom wipes his eyes for some minutes before he can talk.
Before he leaves, Peeta invites him to have dinner with us now that he is alone. Thom has always been loyal to Gale, but he has become an even closer friend of Peeta since they started working together to rebuild the district. The marriage with Delly helps, too.
"I'll place our orders for the week," I tell Peeta, "Do you have anything to do?"
"Maybe I'll see how the reconstruction of the bakery is going," he says, giving me a kiss, "We'll meet at lunch."
I'm not pleased by his quick dismissal but, since we've been spending every minute of the day together for so many days now, it's only natural that wants to be alone for a while. I try not to let it get to me.
I think of Haymitch instead. He has been almost lethargic lately, too dismissive of us and too grumpy when we insist in talking to him. His behavior has been scaring Bligh, who doesn't know him very well yet and thinks that is just the way he is. Johanna even told him that maybe he should take a glass of liquor to get better, to which Lana responded with a ferocious glare.
I see some of the bottles Lana has paid to have distributed across the district in her tussle to stop Haymitch from drinking, and I hear my own voice talk before my brain thinks.
"Can I have one, please?" I ask.
"But of course, Mrs. Mellark," the man says, taking off his hat and giving me the biggest bottle of liquor.
I must be insane. I take the bottle in my hands, murmur some thanks and nod, ashamed of myself. I almost forget to place my orders but, after I do, I rush back to the Victor's Village. I make sure to stay away from the bakery because I don't want Peeta to see me or what I'm about to do.
There's a spectacle awaiting me when I get home: the couch and carpet have been trashed, Buttercup is asleep and little Tiger is making a big mess of his new house. There are pieces of cotton and fabric threads everywhere. I try to scold him but he doesn't care, so I take him in my arms and he scratches my skin. Peeta will hear me, he'll have to clean everything up.
Still holding Tiger, I sit on a chair by the window and wait, staring at the Abernathy's house through the glass. When I see Lana get out of the back door to feed the geese, I know it's my chance. I run to their porch and knock. No one opens. I knock more insistently.
"I'm going now, damn it," I hear Haymitch grumble.
I don't wait for him. When he opens the door, instead of a person he finds a single bottle of liquor. He stares at the bottle with a mix of uncertainly and incredulity, then looks at both sides and rushedly takes the bottle inside, hidden under his shirt.
Maybe this will be good for him; I think it's going to improve his mood. He has been so surly and grumpy lately, and I think Lana deserves to be treated better than that. It can't be bad if he just drinks once in a while, can it?
No, it is bad. This was a dumb decision and I can't believe that I've done this. My mind is filled with regret; I almost go back, knock again and take the bottle away from Haymitch, but before I decide to do something I hear Lana's happy hums as she goes back into the house.
It's too late to do something now, because she will catch us and will hate us both: me for giving Haymitch a bottle, and Haymitch for accepting it.
I go home and wait for Peeta. He arrives about twenty minutes later.
"Look at what your cat has done," I say, showing him my arms. He looks sadly at the scratches.
"My poor thing. That's doesn't look good, I'll put some salve on you. Little Tiger, you wounded your mommy!" Peeta scolds and the kitten rubs his fur on him in response.
"He likes you better than me," I observe as Peeta softly applies the ointment on my scars.
"Not true," Peeta says, "The two of you are just too similar. I think you'd like to have a dog. We should get one too, because you clash with cats."
"No, this house is crowded enough. And I don't know how we can be similar, I'm not this destructive," I reply, showing him the damage the cat has done to the couch and rug.
"It was about time to redecorate this room, don't you think?" Peeta asks, somewhat embarrassed.
"No, I don't. Peeta, you're too forgiving –"
Peeta hugs me and presses his body against mine, enveloping me in his arms for a passionate kiss.
"What was that for?" I ask him, breathless.
"I missed you," he says.
"It was just an hour or two," I chuckle.
"It seemed like forever," he says, sheepishly, but doesn't let go of me.
We eat our lunch together in silence, not engaging in our usual chatter. I can't get myself to look into Peeta's eyes; I want to confess that I've just given alcohol to Haymitch and ask for his guidance and forgiveness. Even though I know he won't be harsh towards me upon my confession, the fear of seeing the disappointment in his eyes is too much for me to bear.
I leave the dishes on the table and head upstairs to take a nap. I want to close my eyes and forget everything. I hear Peeta wash the dishes, clean up the sitting room and his heavy steps getting closer to me when everything is done.
He dips into bed to lie down with me. Instead of leaving me alone, Peeta touches me over the clothes. When I turn to look at him, he starts getting me undressed. I don't feel any kind of desire right now, but I realize the proximity to his warmth is very comforting by itself.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Enforcing your rule," he says, "You can't have any clothes on when you're here."
"Oh," I sigh.
"Isn't this a good time?" he asks, doubtful.
"I want it," I say, unwilling to let go of him and risk losing the sweet touches he's giving me.
Nothing happens besides cuddling. I keep my eyes closed the whole time because I don't want to look at him; I don't want him to see the guilt in my eyes. My feeling of heartbreak only increases with each soothing touch. I love him so much it makes me depressed to have forgone his trust. Haymitch is going to be back to square one. Lana may leave him and it will all be my fault. If it happens I'll have to choose between telling Peeta and keeping the secret forever.
Once Peeta stops rubbing me, I open my eyes to see him staring quizzically at me. I realize it's the first time I haven't touched him back.
"Is everything okay?" he asks me tentatively.
I can't stop the tears from falling down when I see the worry in his eyes and hear it in his voice. It sends him into a state of panic.
"Katniss, you're crying!" he exclaims, "Did I do something wrong?"
As an answer, I can only shake my head and squeeze his hand.
"Is it because of Tiger?" Peeta asks, "I've cleaned everything up."
"I'm worried about Haymitch, that's all," I say, wiping the tears away, "I'm sorry."
His face twists in consternation too.
"I talked to Dr. Aurelius about it. He knows a good specialist who can help Haymitch and he thinks the success rate of the treatment is of about ninety eight percent. We must try to convince him to have an appointment."
"Will you talk to Lana about it?" I ask, "Maybe she can find a way to persuade him."
"I'll talk to her today" Peeta assures me.
I had forgotten we have our first sign language class in the afternoon, but luckily Peeta remembers it. When Bligh opens us the door to the Abernathy's house, he's pale and shaky and we take a glance at Lana's snarl.
Going inside, we get a better understanding of the situation. Haymitch sits on the couch with flushed cheeks, a dumb grin and the empty bottle in his hand. He smells terrible and Lana paces in despair.
She's obviously telling Haymitch off. She yells like she's gone mad, producing gurgling sounds that she would usually be ashamed of, but today she doesn't seem to care about that. She's so mad she's even trying to talk, but, obviously, she can't, so she gets overwhelmed and seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.
"Lana, calm down," Peeta pleads, "Talk to Bligh, he can help you sort out your ideas."
She takes some deep breaths and nods while her fists clench. Bligh blushes as she shows him what she's trying to say. He shakes his head.
"Lana, I can't say that," he murmurs, "It's not my place. You'll regret it."
She seems to get anxious again and gestures very quickly.
"Tell me what the woman is saying, boy," Haymitch insists.
Bligh's eyes dart between Lana and Haymitch. They seem to be in agreement on this matter, at least. The interpreter looks down when he says:
"Repulsive drunk. Disgusting –" he clears his throat, "Too disgusting to be someone's husband. She – she says she hates you and wishes she had somewhere else to go so - so that she never had to see you again," Bligh is shaky and red and obviously anxious to remove himself from the conversation, "She thought that things were going well between the two of you and that you were happy. But she doesn't think you want to be happy, she says you want to make her go away."
"What did you expect if you always tell me what to do? You're not my mother," Haymitch shrugs matter-of-factly. Lana frowns and moves her hands again.
"She had no intention of giving you orders. She just lost her trust in you, Haymitch," the boy gulps, "You promised her you would stop drinking."
Haymitch smirks, looks at her and then guffaws.
"What do you know about trust, Milana?"
Lana stops and stares at her husband. She seems nervous, almost frightened all of a sudden and not angry anymore. She makes a simple gesture to Bligh and waits for him to translate her.
"Her name is Lana," Bligh says, blinking in confusion.
"Of course it is, my dear," Haymitch laughs, looking right at her, "And isn't it funny that you are also the only Avox of the Training Center still alive?"
We didn't know that, but by her reaction it seems to be true. Lana, floored, makes a gurgling sound from the back of her throat that makes her sound like a wounded bird. She looks cornered and stares intently at each one of us, as if she doesn't trust anyone anymore.
"So you thought you were the only one with powerful connections?" Haymitch asks her with a sneer.
Lana makes a sequence of gestures to Bligh before she runs upstairs. We hear a door slam and be locked.
"I -" Bligh stutters, translating Lana's last signs, "Apparently I'm dismissed for the rest of the day today… And tomorrow too."
"We should leave," Peeta says, "How do you feel, Haymitch?"
"Like shit, thanks for asking," Haymitch replies, "At least someone decided to treat me today, whoever that was, so I could be much worse."
"Was she so pissed because you are drunk?" I ask him, feeling really bad about it.
"That stubborn mule doesn't want me to have any joy," he says in confirmation, "I can't wait to do the propos for the Initiative and put her back in the train to wherever she came from."
"You can't be serious," says Peeta, "At least help her stay in the district. You are her source of protection."
"Now that she lost Snow's protection, she needs mine," says Haymitch with a chuckle.
"What?" Peeta exclaims.
"We should go," I say, pushing Peeta away from Haymitch, "He's drunk and he's not making any sense."
Haymitch keeps talking but we don't hear anything more. Bligh is gone by now.
As Peeta closes the door of our house after us, I burst out crying.
"It was me, Peeta. I can't stand to see him suffer," I say between sobs, "But I don't know why he's so drunk. I swear I only gave him one bottle. Don't be mad at me, please, I can't stand it."
Peeta hugs me and smiles softly after a couple of seconds.
"Katniss, did you do that? Really?"
I nod and hide my face on his chest. To my dismay, I feel his body shake in a nervous chuckle.
"I gave him one too, before lunch," he admits.
"You did?" I ask, wiping my tears away, "How?"
"I hid it in his outdoor chair before I came home," he explains, "And felt really bad for it afterwards."
"Where did you get the bottle?" I ask.
"At the bakery. I asked the reconstruction workers if they could get one for me."
"I asked for one at the station," I tell him, "Waited for Lana to go outside to deliver it to Haymitch. He doesn't know it was me, though."
Peeta laughs softly. He rubs my cheek with his thumb.
"Okay. So he has taken two bottles," he summarizes.
"At least two," I say, "What if the whole district had the same idea?"
"No, it's only you and I that seem connected to each other's brains," he says with a chuckle, "This is just a proof it backfires when we try to work solo. Poor Haymitch is going to sleep on the couch tonight."
"He can't stop drinking without help, Peeta. He has a lifelong addiction and he needs medical advice. Will you still talk to Lana about that?"
Peeta nods, "I maintain he should be seen by a specialist. Maybe he can't stop drinking all of a sudden, I don't know. I had a really bad day today. I was so scared, Katniss. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to disappoint you," he says, kissing the top of my head, "Can you forgive me for that?"
"I didn't tell you for the same reason, so there's nothing for me to forgive," I smile, "We should never hide something from each other again. We are much better as a team," I say, kissing him on the mouth.
"We won't ever hide anything again, even small things like this," he agrees.
"We may have ended their marriage today," I ponder.
"I know," Peeta sighs.
We go to the studio and cuddle a little with our baby cat. After that, Peeta makes a painting of mischievous Tiger and his bored brother, Buttercup. I try to keep the two of them quiet and it never works out, which makes for a tremendous amount of laughter. We drink tea and eat blueberry muffins. Our bodies touch every time we can, because we really need to feel each other after the events of the day, and also, honestly, because that's what we always do. It is a lovely afternoon once we get to forget our neighbors from next door.
Someone knocks as the sun goes down.
Peeta's hands are dirty from paint, so I open it to whoever it is. Maybe Lana or Haymitch, one of them trying to escape from the other.
But, once I look outside, I realize it's none of them. A redhead stares back at me with a confused look on his face.
"Bligh?"
"Katniss… I can't find Johanna anywhere. Have you seen her?"
"Come inside," I say.
Bligh follows me to the studio. He and Peeta smile and nod at each other. I tell him to sit in front of the small table next to us and offer him a cup of tea and a muffin.
"Peeta made them," I say, "He's the best cook in Panem."
Bligh nods absently. It's obvious he wants me to get to the point, but he's too polite to say that.
"Didn't Johanna tell you?" I finally ask.
"Tell me what?" he asks, puzzled.
"She left district Twelve this morning. We took her to the train station," I say. Peeta stares at us and gives Bligh a strange look. It seems a mix of pity and encouragement.
"She – she didn't tell me –" Bligh mumbles.
"I'm sorry, Bligh."
"I should have known," he says, staring at the table, "She's a victor. She would never take me seriously. I don't know why I thought it could work."
"Of course a victor can take your seriously," I say. He shakes his head.
"Did she go to district Seven?" he asks.
"No, she's living in Four with our friend Annie Cresta."
He nods slowly, taking the information in.
"I really thought she liked me. I don't do meaningless stuff," he mumbles, dejected, and stands up, "I should go."
His tea and muffin remain untouched on the table. He leaves hurriedly and I follow him to the door. He stares at the horizon, looking almost numb.
"I'm really sorry, Bligh," I mumble.
He stares at me with tears welling up on his eyes and takes my hand in his.
"Thank you for everything, Katniss."
I watch him as he walks, sagging, almost limping.
I feel Peeta's hands on my shoulders, soothing me in silence, and rest my head on his arm. He kisses my head, looking at our visitor through the door, and I realize he didn't say a word while Bligh was here, although he was paying attention the whole time. Peeta and I watch Bligh's dejected steps until we lose sight of him.
"What are you thinking?" I ask.
"I'm thinking about how happy I am now… But -"
"But...?" I ask.
His voice is soft when he replies:
"But I was thinking that at some point this could have been you and me."