Chapter 38
Caution to the wind
They found themselves on the bed. How did they even get there? One moment they were kissing by the mirror. The next he laid on top of her, feeling the soft comforter beneath them.
"Gosh, you're sweaty," Effie sighed against his mouth. Haymitch shuddered at the feel of her fingers along his shoulder blades, tracing the contours of whatever muscles he had.
"Sorry."
"I'm not."
Without another word, she sought his lips in an open-mouthed kiss and Haymitch responded with the same heat, fueled by the passion they had been denied for so long. As though their lips were dripping with a sweet poison neither of them could get enough of.
Her bosom rose and fell, imprisoned by the tight outfit. He would not get a finger inside the snug fabric but he cupped his hand around her left breast and gave it a soft squeeze. The act made her gasp, head arched back against the pillow.
"God, I've missed you!" Tears rolled down the sides of Effie's eyes and vanished amidst a tangle of curls. Her arms, once around his shoulders, moved downward to the buckle of his belt. The crave for more, evident in each tug and pull, made his breath hitch in his throat.
"Wait," he breathed. "Wait, wait, sweetheart." He broke away, creating just enough distance to get the words out. "Let's just kiss, alright?"
"I don't want to 'just kiss'." She closed the gap and Haymitch groaned from the delicious jolts of pleasure her eager hands built up in him, still struggling with that belt. Lost to the sweet sensation, his eyes fluttered close and he grinded against her touch, despite himself.
"We really shouldn't." The words were so weak it was pathetic. His breathing grew more and more labored and he nudged her hair away with his nose and kissed her neck until his name spilled from her lips, like a prayer.
Her hands were still fiddling with his belt and he had to bite down hard to keep from begging her to touch him. Instead he mustered up every last inch of effort and got a hand in between himself and her dangerous intrusion. "We don't have a condom, Eff."
"I don't care." Her sighed consent, the green light as far as his body was concerned, ripped through his paper thin resistance. Their lips crashed together and Haymitch tugged and tore at the belt just as eagerly as her. Together, it didn't take them ten seconds and he hissed with pleasure when she slipped her fingers inside his pants, his underpants.
"Eff!" he gasped as she pulled them down completely, not sure what he was begging for at this point. "Oh, God, I … Effs, we can't. I don't know if I … What if I get you pregnant?"
"I don't care!"
Groaning, his hands vanished inside her dress and he didn't care either. Didn't want to care. For a fraction of a second he was back in the woods, back on top of her on a bed of grass where he made her his for the first time. Or where she made him hers was perhaps a more accurate description.
Their kisses were sloppy, just like then. Sloppy and uncoordinated and wild with despair. Her legs hugged his hips – as close as two people could get without being one – and the few times her eyes were open he saw nothing but the same crushing want he felt. Like a relentless tug of mighty waters you could not escape, not for long, bringing you closer and closer to the rocky shores.
When was her last period? Was she ovulating now? God help him, he couldn't think anymore! The scent of Effie's strawberry hair filled every inch of his battered, beat-up, shaking, exhausted body and he only wanted one thing. Her. He wanted to ease himself into her softness and warmth and not stop. Not pull out. Just thrust into her again and again until he came. Consequences be damned.
And he would. Would've gone with her anywhere. Right off the deep end.
If it wasn't for one little problem that neither of them took into account.
Just as Haymitch's hand slipped in between his legs to guide himself the last few inches – a very familiar sound rose from the kitchen.
A baby. Crying.
Dazed, Haymitch stilled against Effie and their lips broke apart with a soft smack. The angry cries of their little boy cut through the doors and walls, the very boards, breaking the fragile spell they had woven together.
It was like waking from a dream. A drunken stupor. They looked at each other – stunned, stupefied – as the fog lifted, leaving everything painfully clear.
Haymitch's heart still pounded in his chest, hard and thick, but he let go of himself and as more and more blood left that very specific area, cold, hard reality came rushing in, bringing him back to himself.
Effie too struggled to catch her breath. Her legs slumped back against the mattress, drained from energy and her eyes, once clouded by lust, met his with growing dread.
Mouth dry, Haymitch drew back before he'd get sucked in again. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and there he remained. Didn't think his legs would hold him right now. Elbows on his thighs, his forehead sunk into the heels of his palms.
Effie was just as Avox mute. Back against the pillows, she stared ahead in her ill-fitting outfit and untamed hair.
"What're we doin'?" The weight of his question hung heavy in the air. Like walls, about to cave in.
Effie shook her head.
"I don't know."
Downstairs, their son kept crying. He'd be damned if the sound didn't get louder and louder all the time – reverberating against the inside of his skull.
"Do you wanna go or shall I?"
"I'll take care of it."
With a foolish attempt to smooth down her hair she climbed out of bed and pulled her panties back on.
"Effs, the dress …" he said weakly, stopping her from leaving.
"Oh! Right. Yes. Could you …?" Even with the zipper broken he managed to pull it down and Effie slipped out of it and into a more comfortable house dress faster than Katniss could say "cheese bun."
"Sorry 'bout the outfit, princess", was all he could think of to say. "Never meant to break it."
"You didn't. It was bound to happen sooner or later."
She smoothed the skirt out pointlessly, like always when she was self-conscious. His junk was still out in the open. Her eyes flitted to it before they quickly returned to his face. He wanted to reach out and touch her hand. Tell her she didn't have to feel awkward. Not with him. Instead he got to his feet, spaghetti-legged, and pulled the pants and underpants up. Holding her gaze he asked,
"You OK, sweetheart?"
Effie managed a smile.
"N-not too bad. You?"
He shrugged.
"I'm alright. Just hot. This place's a fucking oven."
Effie gave a nervous laugh.
"Yes, I … I see what you mean. Oh, I sure hope the twins haven't made a mess downstairs. I probably should have brought them up here with me. Right?"
"Uh, yeah. Guess so."
"Yes, well." She cleared her throat. "I best get down."
Haymitch nodded.
"Be with you in a minute." He hesitated. "Effs. Another thing."
"Yes?"
"It was actually the reason why I came knocking in the first place. Can you hold down the fort this afternoon? If I went out for a couple of hours? Don't know if you know it but Chaff's got a godmother. She lives like twenty minutes from here and I … well, I wanna go see her."
The idea had been on the back of his mind ever since he came to Eleven. Before the Third Quarter Quell when he and Chaff said their final goodbyes to each other he promised his old friend that if he didn't make it out of the arena alive Haymitch would help support Pearl financially after the war was won. If the war was won. She was the closest Chaff had to family and Haymitch made good on that promise even though he'd never actually met the old lady.
Katniss – and Peeta too of course – wanted to do the same thing. For Rue's and Tresh's families just like they promised during the Victory Tour. District people never forgot a debt and Katniss brought it up with him herself after they returned to the ashes of Twelve.
Peeta had been back for just a couple of days and he, Haymitch, had hoped to keep the news from them a little while longer. But when the girl flat out asked, he could not lie to her. He didn't even have to say it. His silence did. And the look in her eyes when she realized they were gone. Fuck. Weren't enough bottles in Panem to drown that image.
"I reckoned I'll pay her a visit. Make sure she doesn't want for anything."
Effie nodded.
"Take all the time you need. I'll look after the children." An unexpected smile brightened her face. "This is good, Haymitch. It's good."
xXx
Haymitch never did say when he might return and he declined Annabel's offer to drive him.
"Chaff's told me the way like a dozen times already."
To the very last Effie hoped he'd be back in time to help her put the children to bed but three hours later Haymitch was still out.
"There now, sweetlings. I know you're tired. I know." Effie wandered the room with the wailing twins in her arms. Back and forth, back and forth.
They'd been fussy all afternoon. Ian too. On a regular day, the boy had no trouble falling asleep on his own. Most of the times at least. You put him in the crib and as long as he had his pacifier he usually drifted off pretty quickly, snuggled up to his favorite stuffed animal. But tonight, he just wouldn't lie down. Not for long.
And Amy's cries were so loud they could be heard clear across the district. If she got her way she would take all her naps in Haymitch's arms. Most nights their little girl wouldn't even fall asleep unless he held her. A realization that got painfully clear once they arrived in District 11 without him.
This past week she got re-used to her father putting her down so now she pulled herself up after just a couple of minutes, every time, holding on to the edges of the travel crib, voicing her discontent in the loudest fashion and waking her brother up if he wasn't already.
June and Annabel offered to take one of them but they were already such a great help during the day. They shouldn't have to take care of the children all night as well.
Effie dropped a kiss to the twins' tear-drenched cheeks.
"You miss your dada, don't you?" she murmured. "I know. Me too. But he had things to do, you see. Important things. He'll be back. Don't worry."
Rocking them, she burrowed into their little bodies, seeking as much comfort in her babies, as her babies did her. Holding them in her arms, her eyes flitted back to the bed. For the fifth, tenth or hundredth time.
Haymitch changed the bed linen right after it happened and stuffed it in the washing machine himself. Good. It made the whole thing just a little less improper.
But there was no getting rid of the memories.
She needn't close her eyes to remember the feel of Haymitch's lips. How they claimed hers completely with a heat and intensity too powerful to resist.
They really really shouldn't have put themselves in that situation. She could've kicked herself. After everything they'd been through how could they still be so willing to risk so much for just a few moments of selfish pleasure?
That particular part haunted her more than all of the rest combined – how good, how impossibly good it felt, being reckless. To just let go of the reins and surrender to the roar of her own body.
She lost control. She never lost control! Why would she tell him she didn't care if he got her pregnant when she most definitely did?
Thank God Ian cried!
If he hadn't, things would have escalated completely out of hand and it was exactly the kind of behavior they couldn't afford. Especially now.
They already played with fire once. Years later, it was still something she had a hard time thinking about. Those long hours on the train, worrying she might be pregnant or would be by the time she reached the Capitol.
It was awful. Just awful! She could hardly teach at the Academy that day, having not slept for more than a minute or two, just hoping and praying all night that conception would not happen before she got her hands on a morning after pill. And then the enormous relief that she dodged the bullet. Never again, she promised herself. And still!
In that moment of weakness, every sane thought connected to her real wishes and wants was wiped from her mind and God, she felt alive! Alive and free. Like stepping out of a prison cell for the first time in years. Every heartache, every disappointment, every failure and all that pain just melted away like a brook in spring.
It made absolutely no sense. Feeling that safe and protected in Haymitch's arms when she was anything but. Starved for human closeness and already struggling with the lack of drink there was no way Haymitch would have been able to pull out in time. How many thrusts before he found release inside her? Three? Four? Given her own actions she might even have held his hips when that moment came, begging him to stay in.
So stupid. Haymitch is right. I am a fool! A selfish, careless idiot and if we keep this up we're going to get ourselves in trouble again.
She had to keep reminding herself that they never actually did it. Close but no cigar and thank goodness for that! Their life was complicated enough without worrying about another baby possibly on the way.
They were lonely, that's all. Both of them. Any other feelings she might still have for him just came from the simple fact that he was the father of her children. She would always care for him deeply. That was just part of the deal. How could she not when she saw him looking out through Amy and Ian's eyes every day?
Maybe it would be better, for all of them – the twins too – if Haymitch just found someone. The other way around was unthinkable. She couldn't ever see herself with anyone else. Who? Someone in the Capitol? Forget it! And Haymitch, he'd get crazy jealous having to share the twins with another man. It just wasn't worth it – the added stress it would inflict on the whole family.
But Haymitch. As warm and sweet and handsome as he was, he could find someone to love. Someone who would make him happy. Hazelle, for instance. They were already such good friends, taking that next step would be easy? Right?
He would move in with her and they'd live out their days in her little cottage. Cooking together, sleeping in the same bed, sitting in a pair of rockers when they were old and gray, watching the sun go down.
Not until the twins squirmed against her did she realize how tightly she clung to them, the pain in her chest so excruciating it choked her.
Hazelle was wonderful. She'd be so good for him and Amy and Ian couldn't ask for a better stepmom.
So why then did it feel like dying just picturing Haymitch in her arms?
I'm a horrible woman. I don't want him but no one else can have him?
Headlights sailed across the room, putting an end to her depressing thoughts. The car engine rumbled over Amy and Ian's sobs.
Chaff's godmother or one of the other neighbors must have given him a ride back. That or he rode his thumb. Good. She didn't want him to wander off in a vast place like District 11.
She drew a trembling breath and forced a smile.
"See? Dada's home."
Should they talk about what happened? Knowing Haymitch, he would probably pretend like it rained. A prospect that wasn't entirely unpleasant.
What's there to talk about? It's not like we're becoming boyfriend-girlfriend again. That's definitely out of the question!
But she had no sooner thought it before an image flooded her mind. A fantasy so sweet, so tangible it made her head swim. Haymitch coming through that door, greeting her with a kiss and a smile before he took one of the twins out of her tired arms.
The handle creaked and her heart fluttered in her chest. So much like their first butterfly kiss on New Year's a lifetime ago. The door swung open.
And the smile faltered from Effie's lips.
"'ey, sweetheart. Heard cryin'. Came to help."
She stared at the man in the doorway. His open mouth. His dull eyes struggling to focus, as though they were looking through her rather than at her. The potent cocktail of whiskey and cigarette smoke clung to him like a second skin. A stench so revolting she backed away.
"Wus the matter?" The words were barely coherent. He dragged his feet inside, his steps meticulous yet so unsteady. "Yeah, I … uh … had a couple o' drinks. This guy … Chaff's buddy. He said we … fuck, they're loud, Eff."
His gaze dropped to the twins, wailing in Effie's arms. He peered between their shiny eyes, their red faces, as if trying to make sense of it.
"'ere. Lemme take her."
His outstretched arms were what finally snapped her out of it.
"Out!"
Haymitch stopped in the middle of a step. Confusion creased his brow.
"She's cryin', sweetheart."
"Get out, Haymitch!"
"I just wanna give 'er a cuddle. I can't give my own kids a cuddle?"
"No, you can't!"
"What's going on in here?"
"Annabel!" Effie gasped, seeing her friends at the door. "June! Please, can you take them? Just for a moment."
The two women brushed past Haymitch without a second look. Ian soon found himself in his auntie June's arms but when Effie tried to pass Amy over to Annabel, the little girl clutched her mother's clothes, wailing at the top of her lungs.
"It's OK. It's OK, baby girl." Effie held her daughter's fists, kissing them, trying to make her let go. "It's just for a little while. Mama will be back in a moment. It's OK."
"I'm sorry, Effs. I'm sorry," Haymitch slurred on the way through the corridor. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm really sorry."
"I don't want to hear it!" she finally snapped. She pulled him into his room where he dropped more than sat on the bed.
"Didn't mean to. Honest. We just … it was for Chaff." He looked up at Effie, helpless eyes begging her to understand. "We wanted to … I just wanted to … Oh, God, Effs, I'm sorry!"
"No, sit up straight!" She steadied him, keeping him from reeling forward. "Focus, Haymitch!"
His shoes were still on. She crouched before him, unlacing them. Down the corridor, the children's cries pierced through the silence. Their calls for her made her butter-fingered.
Haymitch just watched, shoulders sagging in defeat.
"You're so good to me, sweetheart." He sniffed, nose suddenly congested. "I don't deserve it."
"You can say that again," Effie muttered through gritted teeth. She pulled the shoes off and set them by the nightstand. When she rose Haymitch caught her hands, holding them in his.
"No, I'm not staying here, Haymitch. It's well past their bedtime."
Haymitch nodded, eyes downcast.
"I know." He patted her hand like some precious, beloved pet. "You're such a good soul, Eff. My … my angel and I didn't even …"
Before she knew it, he wrapped his arms around her midsection. Clinging to her, like a man to a life raft, he buried his face in her stomach.
"Why did I leave you? Why did I do that?" His voice was thick from drink and grief. "You, the kids. You're the only good thing I got going on in my life."
"Haymitch, you're smothering me." She tried to ease his hold but he was too strong for her, even now. "I have to go. I have to get back to the children."
"Please, Eff." He looked up at her, eyes shiny with tears through tresses of dirty blonde hair. "I know I'm fucked up. I know I let you down but … please, just … gimme another chance. I swear I'll do it right this time and we'll be happy. Real happy. You'll see. Please, Effie."
His eyes hung on to hers as he clutched the sides of her dress. She opened her mouth but closed it again. Anguished, her head turned in the direction of those distressed calls in the other room.
"I can't do this." Hands on his she tried to pry his fingers off her. "Amy and Ian need me!"
"We belong together." His voice broke. "I know it. Look me in the eyes and tell me we don't belong together."
Reality blurred when the tears welled up.
"Let me go, Haymitch. You have to let me go."
