Chapter 24 (part two)
A gift worthy of love
Haymitch ducked low as they passed the willow tree with its pink colored branches and mint green leaves stretched far over the road. Miriam's Road, Effie called it. Miri Road for short. The gravel pathway was the same pale yellow as a slice of fresh pineapple.
He wouldn't mind a cab ride but Effie preferred walking, even now and the house wasn't far.
"As long as we take it slow."
Her arm was looped around his, just like in the old days. 27 weeks into the pregnancy she was more than grateful for the support. It drew many looks but then again, they always did.
"I love this garden." Days in the sun had painted a rosy layer across her nose, now sprinkled with freckles.
"You would," he said and Effie smiled.
"The colors are rather intense, I admit but you see, I spent so much time here as a child. I used to chase ducks, jump after soap bubbles bigger than my head. I sang for the swans, badly."
She chuckled at the memory.
"Mother clucked at me. 'Be a lady, Euphemia!' But it was like her words just flew past my ear. And when evening came and I got tired my father scooped me up and I watched the fireflies from his shoulder. All those little lights in the flower bushes. It was magical. I was so happy."
She fell silent, her smile fading.
Mrs. Q used to join as well. Not often, of course. She was never one for outings and daydrips. The only times mother might convince her were on very special occasions, like anniversaries.
"You simply must come! You're part of our family too and Euphemia would just love that."
She brushed the thought away. It only made her sad. Sad and angry. Angry with herself most of all.
Whenever Mrs. Q. made a comment about the districts or the new government Effie always made excuses for her. Blamed it on her upbringing and the great losses she suffered during the wars, both wars.
And when it came to her strong opinions about Haymitch, his drinking and very un-Capitoly ways Effie truly believed it all stemmed from a place of genuine concern for her. Because she cared for her and wanted her happy.
Mathilda Quinlan's true colors were brighter than fireworks and still Effe didn't see them. A mistake that nearly cost her…
No! She refused to finish that thought.
They hadn't spoken since that awful day over at her apartment. Mrs. Quinlan just sent her notice. Told her to pack her bags. By then everyone already knew her sins.
Mrs. Q was a quick worker. Always had been. She didn't even have to do all that much. All it took was a few words in passing to one of the biggest gossipers in town and the Capitol did the rest.
When Haymitch first arrived he probably thought it was all Gloria's making. Honestly, she wished it was. The outcome wouldn't change but at least then the betrayal wasn't made by someone she loved. By someone she thought loved her back.
When all of this was happening June and Annabel were in District 11. Effie never told them but news of her predicament reached them anyway and Annabel was on the next train.
It was so cold that day. Early March and the Capitol was covered in a glitter of crystals. The last frost before Spring. Annabel had to look all over town for her old friend before she found her.
Here in Cupid's Garden, by the Roman Stairs.
Haymitch didn't know it but as her pregnancy progressed Effie had spent more and more time by those steps.
Castor and Pollux's mind flights were everywhere. Sprinkled over the Capitol like confetti. Some obvious, some hidden, all of them lovely.
But the ones by the Roman Stairs were her favorites. The very reason she walked there day in and day out. Not because of her parents or any good or half-good memories she had from around here.
No, because the final image showed District 12. When those woods engulfed her, that's when she felt the closest to Haymitch. Even if it was only an illusion.
The day Annabel showed up Effie wasn't looking at pictures though. Not moving pictures anyway. She stared at a sonogram, for the first time without her hands shaking.
That's after she spent the past three hours at the hotel crying her eyes out. How strange to feel happy and so utterly destroyed with despair, all at the same time.
Those two little dots.
How many hours did they sit there in the biting cold, talking, while the wind nipped their noses? She had no idea. A lot of her memories from that chaotic time were a blur. Too many life-changing things, good and bad, had happened so fast.
But for the first time Effie truly confided in someone. Someone other than Haymitch. After Mrs. Q, she didn't think she'd ever trust anyone here again but that's just the thing about Annabel. She was different. An outcast too. Had been one for a long time.
Everyone else thought Effie Trinket suffered a fate worse than death but not Annabel. She was the first person to tell her she was happy for her sake.
For it was happy news.
Those long weeks and months alone in the Capitol, Effie felt worried, distressed, heartsick, guilty, jumpy, furious, constantly choked up and panicked about the future. But not a day went by without her feeling happy, grateful for those two growing inside her.
Annabel was also the only one who knew about the incident with the pennyroyal tea. Effie wisely decided to keep Haymitch out of that loop. It would only upset him and what for? Mrs. Q. had already fired all of her guns, big and small. She couldn't hurt them anymore.
"You got mail," Haymitch said as they walked the path toward June and Annabel's house. He reached inside a fork in the apple tree and got out a handful of pink paper hearts. So many they slipped through his fingers.
Gracie and the others had not returned since their first visit. Undoubtedly someone saw them and ran for the phone. The girls weren't exactly quiet there by the window.
June and Annabel laughed when they first heard of the visit, with all of them seated around the roast chicken. Effie was concerned that the parents would be angry, not only with her and Haymitch but with the two of them as well but Annabel waved it off.
"Let them. It'll be a refreshing new round of name-calling. 'Traitor' and 'turn-coat' and 'back-stabber': it gets old."
Either way, after their initial visit, the girls didn't come knocking again. But, as Haymitch so correctly pointed out to Effie: "They never actually promised you anything."
They just found new ways to get the message across. Snuck little notes in Effie's windowpanes, used them for sail in bark boats and sent them cruising across the pond or, like today, hid them in the tree.
How they did it was a mystery because they were never caught red-handed. Haymitch understood the appeal. This cat and mouse game they played with June and Annabel's hawk-eyed neighbors. He had the same rebellious tendencies as a kid after all. Same "fight the power" response when told he couldn't do something.
He opened the door for her and closed it behind them. Effie headed for his room which was closest but Haymitch took the route through the kitchen first. He plucked two pomegranates from the fruit basket and got out his knife.
When Jerome, the big-bellied, always-good-for-a-joke man who sold Effie her groceries every week, heard what happened on the square he got mad as a mad dog.
Next thing they knew, three wooden crates arrived at June and Annabel's doorstep, filled to the brim with large, fragrant pomegranates of the finest quality. All cultivated in his greenhouses.
Next to chocolate wafers, the dark pinkish fruit had been Effie's ultimate craving ever since she got pregnant. She inhaled the stuff, one glass at a time.
"Oh, thank you. You're an angel," Effie said when he handed it to her, fresher than fresh and clinking with ice cubes. She sat leaned back in the recliner with a pillow against her back and he crawled up in his usual spot in the bay window.
Hands knitted over his stomach he watched Effie sip her glass and read the little notes on those paper hearts. She always said the girls shouldn't keep doing this but he knew she was happy for them. These hellos from her protégées. Held them more precious than gold. He saw it in her smiles, like right now. Even if they were laced with sadness.
"Aren't you angry?" he asked.
"Oh, you should be inside my head sometimes." She drew a breath that couldn't quite count as a sigh. "I saw it coming, really. They never liked my teaching methods. Or the fact that I spoke up. Trust me, they've wanted to be rid of me for a long time.
When they found out about this," she said and placed her hand against the top of her stomach. "Well, let's just say it was the final straw. Professor Sickle gathered a name collection. Written complaints from concerned parents. I was summoned before the Board and they told me, as much as they wanted to, they simply could not renew my contract with a good conscious."
"What a lot of bull," he said and she gave him a joyless smile.
"Indeed. Most of all I worried about my students. What would happen to them. But from what I hear, the Board already has a problem with Talisha."
"So?"
"It means she's good, Haymitch. Not quite in my league of course but then again: who is? Beetee's told me about her and her background. They knew each other way back in District 3. Gracie and the others, they're in good hands."
She had herself another sip of juice.
"You should see professor Sickle," she said. "To hear her tell it Snow will one day rise up from his grave and everything will resume to the way it was. But Pallas and Appollo's Academy are a thing of the past and good riddance!
The date for the new school is set and it will be long before the end of Talisha's contract. A co-ed school with teachers from all over the country. They're building universities, did you know that? In District 4 and 7, in addition to the one we have here. No more School boards where class and wealth gives you power.
So if Sickle and her flock of vultures and eye-servants wants to fire me as one last death twitch, they can have it! The future is coming whether they like it or not."
Yeah, Haymitch thought. That's my Eff.
Damn it,
he thought right after. Not "his". Effie wasn't his. Never would be again. Why was that so hard to learn?
The ice clinked as Effie tipped the glass up. She caught a drip of juice before it escaped her lip and said,
"But to change the subject, Haymitch. I was thinking."
"That hurt?"
"When my father was born, it was grandfather who chose his name. And 'Euphemia' was actually picked out by my mother. So you could say it's a Trinket tradition for the fathers to decide the boy's names and the mothers to decide the girl's. And since our children are half-Trinkets, I think it would be beautiful to carry on that tradition. What do you say?"
"Not a chance, sweetheart."
"Why ever not? I have full confidence in you."
"You think I was born yesterday? You're just saying that cause you wanna lock your name down so when you call our daughter 'Amandagram', I can't say anything. And even then, I bet you'll still find some way to pick the boy's name, too."
"I certainly would not. And who said anything about 'Amandagram'? What kind of a name is that? Amandalyn, on the other hand…"
"Is too long. I never even heard of it until today. Besides… what?" he said, at the sudden wide smile on Effie's face.
"My dearest Haymitch. You always tell me I pick all the long, weird names but you never stop to think about the name you've got. 'Haymitch Abernathy' doesn't exactly roll easily off the tongue, does it? All these years and I still can't find a decent nickname for it. How did your parents come up with 'Haymitch' anyway?"
Too late she realized her blunder. Felt it in the tense silence that followed. They never spoke of his dead family. To cover the slip-up, she said,
"What about Florentinus then? For the boy. That's fancy."
"No."
"I still think Haymitch Junior has a nice ring to it."
"No!" He rubbed his forehead, like getting a headache. "Please, Eff. Spare the poor kid. One of me is enough."
xXx
A week passed. The heat wouldn't let go of the Capitol but the same could not be said for the rest of Panem.
One day a call came from District 11.
They were just setting the breakfast table. Haymitch placed the largest bread basket by the coffee pot. No smaller would do because ever since Katniss and Peeta sent him the trunk of clothes and whatnot, the boy made a habit of keeping them all with baked goods.
Raspberry and blueberry muffins. The light and fluffy brioche bread baked with honey that Effie liked. Even crescent-moon rolls dotted with seeds that he baked especially for June and Annabel.
Effie poured orange juice into a big glass jug but before she could lift it off the counter Haymitch was there. He didn't let her carry anything heavier than a book and even then, only the light ones.
That's when the phone rang, June answered and they didn't think much of it at first. Not until the blonde woman re-appeared, face flushed.
"Bel, Eustace's on the phone," she said. "He says the tree blew over last night! Half the top floor is gone!"
For the next three days the two ladies hardly ever came off the phone.
"That blasted tree!" Annabel said. "We should've listened to Eustace and cut it down when we had the chance."
Haymitch got a call through to Katniss and Peeta but apparently the storm missed District 12. He remembered well, the harm they could do. Storms. Not Katniss and Peeta. There was a reason Seamers were fixers. One had to be if you wanted to survive the winter.
All those ramshackle, dry-as-a-bone houses before the rebellion. It was a full-time job just to keep the walls from caving in. Something always broke or bailed on you when you needed it most. Frozen pipes, clogged drains, leaky roofs, cracked chimneys. The list just went on and on.
In his prime, grandpa Harold was a sought for carpenter. Haymitch often came with on one of his jobs and he learned a thing or two. From his visits at the woodshop as well. He would have offered now. Gone to Eleven and helped with the repairs. Pay off an ounce of his enormous debt to June and Annabel.
But what about Effie? She was due in August. Late August, but still. He bet that with his famous luck, the moment the train rolled into Eleven she would go into labor, just because.
"I know people you can call and put the bill on me," he told Annabel but even that he wasn't getting. They already hired people from The Cidery.
But it changed the plans for all of them. Disrupted the schedule, as the former escort would say.
June and Annabel wanted to be there. Back in District didn't say so out loud, not outside their own bedroom but Effie knew it more than well.
A lot of people cringed when they heard Caesar Flickerman's daughter went and bought a place in a district. An outer district no less! But Effie knew how much they loved that house. For the last few years June and Annabel had spent more time in District 11 than in the Capitol. They led a life there. One they left, because of her.
"You should go," Effie said, one night when she had a moment alone with her old friend.
And it didn't take much to convince Annabel. Now that Haymitch Abernathy was there, by Effie's side. But even then she squeezed her hand and promised,
"I'll be back before you deliver."
xXx
And so, Haymitch and Effie were alone again.
It was so hot out.
"The hottest summer in living memory" Effie said which made Haymitch laugh because he was from District 12.
Still, the almost tropical heat took its toll. On Effie because she was pregnant and on Haymitch because he was Haymitch. So they didn't mind a day in. Or three.
Surprisingly calm days they were too. Sane. For them anyway. Maybe because Effie spent the majority of them resting or consumed by her new, favorite hobby.
Whenever Haymitch joined her and no matter the hour, Effie's nose was always in a baby book. She had like a hundred of them, stocked sky-high in both their rooms.
Haymitch even made a few attempts to follow her example but he always shut the book tight within the first minute since about 95 % of those pages were about everything that could go wrong.
His imagination was bad enough. He didn't need specifics.
But most of the time life was just one calm, uneventful, boring day after another. Just the kind Haymitch savored. When he got to spent them with his annoying, pregnant escort, that was.
So Effie read and Haymitch made her pomegranate juice while he tried to wrap his head around the fact soon two new people would join the party. Their little ones, to use Effie's words.
Besides, when they could just keep to themselves, within these walls, it was easier to believe the world had finally forgotten all about them.
Course, like so many things in the Capitol it was only an illusion.
Effie was re-reading chapter 14, "When you bring your twins home" and Haymitch took his chance and snuck into the bathroom.
Crouched before the cabinet he got out his shower bag. Well, "his" was quite a stretch. He more or less stole it from Effie and stuffed it with shampoo bottles shortly after he moved in.
The thing was printed with glossy red, almost obscene flamingo flowers but it was spacey and that's all that mattered.
He dug inside, rummaged through the camouflage until his hand closed around one of Ripper's trusty bottles. Good and heavy.
He was playing his own cat and mouse game with Effie. After June and Annabel left for Eleven he resumed to his old habit of hiding bottles around the house, at arm's reach but out of her sight.
The night was his new best friend, just like when he and Effie were together. When he could get some alone time with the bottles, without Effie hanging over his shoulder. By morning there wasn't so much as a wine cork on display for her to get all stressed and worked up about.
Only difference this time around was now he kept himself on an even shorter leash. He aimed to get in a couple good mouthfuls throughout the day as well. As long as he always stayed a little drunk he wouldn't lose control. Because he couldn't just disappear in a booze fog and leave Effie on her own.
He tipped the bottle up. Her face, tight with disappointment, flashed before his mind's eye, but he brushed the image away so he could take another sip.
It was walking on a knife-edge. He knew that better than anyone, but what options did he have? He would be of no use to Effie or the kids in withdrawal.
He zipped the bag up and returned it to the cabinet. His elbow nudged into the pile of books by the toilet and almost knocked it over.
"1000 names for your bundle of joy" announced the one on top. Silly title.
He picked it up. Green, yellow and orange arrow flags stuck out from between the pages. If memory served him right, yellow was for the names she liked, orange was for the names she really liked and green gave him headaches.
-He flipped through it. Already knew what he'd find there.
Amandalyn. "Worthy of love."
With a heart drawn around it.
Silly, ol' Eff.
He turned to a different page. Over at the boy's section, still on the letter 'A'.
And yep, there it was.
He stared at it for a long time. How odd to see the name printed in ink like this. He was only used to the big, jiggly letters written with lead pencils and crayons.
Effie didn't know. How could she know? Sae wasn't a blabbermouth, neither were the kids and most importantly, Effie would never insist on the name Amandalyn if she knew the connection.
It was all just a coincidence. He didn't even see it himself. The resemblance. Not straight away. Not consciously.
But perhaps his immediate veto of the name wasn't so much that it was long or unusual. It just reminded him too much of his brother.
Amadeus. Amandalyn. They even had similar origins. To love and be loved.
He heaved a sigh and put the book back where he found it. His shirt clung to him with sweat and he pulled it over his head.
Standing in the shower, under the cool, soothing rain he brushed his teeth with such vigor it foamed pink around his lips. He spat and reached for the pocket of his bathrobe where he kept the peppermints.
As a boy he sometimes watched the older kids, all scrawny, gaunt teenagers, gathered by the slag heap where they passed a cigarette or a quarter bottle of white liquor between them.
Before they went home they always stripped the needles off the nearest pine and chewed the stuff, to cover any tell-tale breath.
This was his second-best choice.
Still chewing, he squirted a blob of shampoo onto his palm, since he was already in here. While he massaged it into his hair, Amadeus's grinning face floated back into his head, followed by that same old pinch in his heart.
His brother would have loved it if someone was named after him. Absolutely. The shy and withdrawn little boy who hardly ever spoke to people outside the family would tell everyone. Sae, the Hendersons, his school teacher, the Mellarks. He wouldn't shut up about it.
Good God, my life for a drink.
He tossed another handful of peppermints into his mouth and with a towel around his hips he walked into the kitchen.
"You hungry? We can order some…"
He silenced at the sight. Effie stood by the dish washer, her back to him. The china clattered as she put the plates and cups away in the cabinets. A house chore that was getting increasingly difficult as her body took up more and more space.
Her once swift motions were slower now because of the pregnancy but Haymitch could still tell she was out of sorts.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she muttered. "I'm just cleaning up."
She took the soup tureen and tried to put it away on a high shelf. A light groan slipped between her lips and Haymitch was by her side in half a heartbeat.
"Don't do that," he said and took the bowl. He put it on the shelf with ease and got a clear look on Effie's face. Her flushed cheeks, her tight lips and he realized she was barely holding it together.
"What's the matter?" His eyes flitted to her belly. "You're not feeling alright? Is it…"
"No, no," she reassured him. "We're alright."
"What's happened?"
Effie rubbed her palms against her upper arms, like suddenly feeling cold. "Nothing. I just got a call. While you were in the shower. That kind."
Haymitch's face tightened.
"Gloria?"
"No, I don't think so. I didn't recognize any of their voices."
"What'd they say?"
"The usual. 'I hope they're stillborn. We're all keeping our fingers crossed that you'll bleed out. If you had any common decency you would jump in the river."
Her words made his head throb. That's how tightly he pressed his jaws shut.
"They're nothing," he said and it was a miracle his voice didn't quiver. "Less than nothing."
And I'm gonna beat those assholes to a pulp! June and Annabel's got caller ID, don't they?
"It's so ridiculous," Effie sniffed and brushed a tear before it could fall. "I should be thick-skinned by now. At least Gloria dared to tell it to my face."
"Shit, Eff," he mumbled. He tried to pull her into a hug but she wouldn't let him hold her. Not for long.
"Please," she said and pulled away. "I'm sorry, I… I need a minute, OK?"
True to character, he thought. She always excused herself when she needed a good cry.
"Sure," he said. "I'm gonna make some green pea soup. For later?"
"Mm-hm," she said over her shoulder and managed a smile. "Sounds delicious."
Usually when these things happened Effie was able to brush it off. Or got spitting mad, which was better. This incident had clearly gotten to her.
He wished she would talk to him about it. Stressing over what went on in Effie's head like this only made him constipated.
Course, he thought. What's to say she didn't feel the exact same way about him? Yeah, that wasn't even a question.
Night came. Haymitch lay on his bed for a change and stared up at the ceiling with his hand against the back of his head.
It was well past midnight and Effie was still up and about. He heard her when she left her room but she didn't come back.
It wasn't the first time he listened to Effie's slow footfalls after dark. The babies kept her up at night. Walking helped ease some of the discomfort.
It was always the same route. Bedroom, kitchen. living room and back again. Bedroom, kitchen, living room. Bedroom, kitchen, living room. The sound made him feel bad. He put Effie in that condition, after all. Well, not all by himself.
He wanted to help, of course he did. Every time. And yet he always remained in the bay window. Drunk and unsteady he was useless anyway. He would only make her nauseous and she had enough of that from the pregnancy, without his help.
He felt the thick beat of music far away. Another mind-numbing party for mind-numbing people with so little going on in their lives they got a kick out of harassing pregnant ladies.
Finally he got up. Hid his silver hip flask inside a house plant, just to be safe. It was still almost full. He hadn't taken a drop since the shower.
Her heard her murmurs from afar. Effie sat on the couch, wearing the same dress and dark, silk stockings from earlier. The over-sized bag lay open by her feet and all the items were rounded up in neat rows beside her and on the coffee table.
"Socks, caps, pacifiers," Effie murmured and counted them off her fingers. "Nappies, sleepers, onesies, baby bottles…" She looked up at the sound of his cough and flushed pink.
"Good thing you thought about re-packing the hospital bag," Haymitch said, leaned against the doorframe. "You've only done it… what? 16 times?"
"I just wanted to make sure," Effie said. "It would be so our luck if we realize we don't have any receiving blankets the moment my water breaks."
She lifted a stray diaper from the bottom of the bag, silently counting again.
"Alright, sweetheart. Break time."
"Hey!" Effie protested when he took the bag. "I have a system!" But she spoke to deaf ears. Haymitch just stuffed the items inside, all at random. "Oh, that's splendid, just splendid! Now I have to start over from the beginning!"
He zipped it up and joined her on the couch. Without a word he cupped her head, thumbs just behind her ears and rubbed his fingertips in gentle, circular motions.
Effie groaned in relief and closed her eyes.
It wasn't the first time he gave her a massage. As her belly got bigger and bulkier it put a strain on the rest of her body. Her legs were swollen, her muscles all tight and aching and he did what he could to make her relax. He had a knack for it too. To their equal surprise.
"Maybe you should consider a career in massage therapy," Effie joked, after the first few times.
"Finally gonna tell me what's the matter, sweetheart?" he asked as he moved down to her shoulders. "Got all worked up 'bout the birth? That it?"
Effie didn't response but she didn't have to. Her silence told him everything.
"Well," he said and slid his palm down the side of her spine, close by her right shoulder blade and relaxed the knots he found there. "If only there was someone here that you could talk to. Someone who's also in this, neck-deep."
"I can handle it," Effie mumbled. "I've already done this once before, after all. Really, Haymitch, it's fine."
In answer, Haymitch closed his hand around her wrist, fingertips right over her pulse.
"Yeah, sure, sweetheart," he snorted. "You're so calm you're practically a vegetable."
Effie breathed a sigh. Dropped the façade.
"Fine," she said. "I'm terrified. I just… I'm terrified."
"So tell me about it."
"And get you all freaked out?"
"Well, that ship sailed a long time ago, sweetheart."
They had never talked about the birth before. Not really. Not the actual experience. The mechanics of it all. Frankly, just the word alone, "birth", made him want to run and hide under the bed with his hands clamped over his ears.
But he saved those feelings for another day. They couldn't both be scared shitless at the same time.
"Remember what the doctor told us," he said when Effie wouldn't speak. "It's all going as planned. They're in the right position and everything. And since it's twins, it might even make the labor easier."
Effie huffed a breath and shook her head. Exhausted.
"I wish." Her hand came to a rest against her belly. "You know I'm really looking forward to seeing them…"
"Course."
"To hold them, get to know them. It's just… I'm terrified how much it's going to hurt. How long it will take. And I know what I'm about to say is not rational…"
"'But?'" he coaxed.
She looked at him. No tears shimmered in her blue eyes now but they were redder than his.
"I'm afraid I will get punished. For what I did during the Games."
"Eff…"
"I didn't get to keep Alex. What if something happens to the twins because I…"
"Don't." He reached in and grasped her hand, the one on her belly. "No, don't look away. Look at me. Nothing's gonna happen, sweetheart. OK? You're doing great. And if karma's gonna come around and bite us in the ass, mine's in much graver danger. I did worse things than you, princess."
"That's not true," she mumbled. "That was all Snow."
"So by that logic, karma owes me then. And those two cooking in there are my kids too, not just yours. Besides, if we're gonna go down that road, you've already been punished, Eff, plenty. You were imprisoned, you were tortured, you got pregnant with my spawn. Call it a day, sweetheart. If you keep on thinking like that, you're gonna end up like me so… better stop."
He gave her hand a squeeze. Effie swallowed and without a word she lay down on her side, with her head against his lap.
This was a scene he remembered well, from their Games years. Course, most of the time the roles were reversed. With him seeking her comfort.
But I can get used to this, he thought and brushed a wayward lock of hair from her face.
The clock ticked away the minutes as Haymitch gently knead the tight areas in Effie's back. Her breathing was slower now. So slow he reckoned she'd fallen asleep and he nearly flinched when she spoke up next.
"You will be there too, won't you?"
The question was so unexpected, so outrageous it stunned him. Stunned him Avox mute. He just stared at her, like a fish.
"Kane wasn't." The words were very hushed. "But you will? I don't have to do it alone?"
"Course I'll be there. What kinda question is that?" He sounded like a whiny kid but he couldn't help it. The fact that Effie could ever doubt if he'd be in the room when his children were born, that fucking hurt. "Seriously, Eff? You think I'm that guy?"
His hand went to his pocket, on autopilot, but of course his hip flask wasn't there. He cussed and said,
"I ain't goin' nowhere, sweetheart. Katniss and Peeta would fucking kill me. You go around worrying 'bout this kinda stuff?"
Again, her silence told him everything he needed to know.
"Effie," he sighed. "Don't be so bloody paranoid. Try and relax a little. OK?"
"What are you doing?" she asked when she felt him move underneath her. He carefully lifted her head from his lap. "Don't be mad."
"Again, sweetheart. Stop. Being. Paranoid." He put a pillow under her head. "Just lie down, breathe and unwind. You're making people for God's sake."
And out of all places, Haymitch headed for the piano. He pulled out the chair and took a seat, his face a distorted reflection in the shiny cherry wood.
Effie just gaped. Her head whirl with questions. Questions and memories. Of Annie and Finn and a mountain air and Haymitch in a corner in the dead of night. Eyes vacant and with blood on his face.
"Haymitch, don't torture yourself."
"You worry too much, sweetheart. No need. I already do it for the both of us."
He lifted the lid. Revealed those rows of ebony black and cream white ivories, his face impossible to read. He rested his fingers on top of them.
"Here goes.".
And he played a melody Effie had never heard before. Soft and gentle notes that picked up and grew, swelled, only to soften again. Happy notes and sad, all at the same time. The music washed through her, all around her, like a warm sea. Vibrant with life.
The babies stirred within her, like they were just as curious, wondering what those sounds were. Where they came from.
What was it? Another mountain air? An old ballad sung around the fire for as long as there lived people in Haymitch's part of the world?
She tried to swallow the lump in her throat and all at once she was five again, wobbling down Miri Road on her first bike.
Father panted as he ran behind her, holding the saddle.
"Not so fast!" mother called and wrung her hands. "You'll hurt yourself! The dress was really expensive! Oh, why did I agree to this!? Young ladies shouldn't ride bicycles!"
"Let go, daddy!" Effie said, out of breath. "I can do it. Let go of me!"
And all at once it was only her. Her and the bike and the road and the wind.
"Look mommy! Daddy, look! Look what I can do!"
And the image changed. Suddenly it wasn't little Euphemia Trinket who rode a bike down Miri Road.
It was her son and daughter. Their son and daughter.
"Careful you two," Haymitch called, hand pressed against the stitches in his side. High on her children's happiness, Effie failed to muffle her chuckles and she steadied him before he collapsed.
"Look mommy! Daddy, look!"
Smiling through tears Effie opened her eyes she didn't even realize she closed and watched Haymitch by the piano.
It was like the years fell off him as he played. Like he was that boy again who won the second Quarter Quell. No, before that. A person who had never set his foot inside an arena.
Effie played too, a little but not like this. Not nearly as well. Not even in the same neighborhood. And she only ever did it because her mother insisted. Because it was expected of a Capitol girl. Her heart was never in it.
This was something else. Even a stranger could see this was not a person who played because he had to.
The last brittle note faded into silence and Haymitch sat still. If Effie's mind had been in the future, Haymitch's was in the past. Even from this distance she could see his hands trembling.
Then he turned and looked at her and she saw something that surprised her even more. Playing had flushed his cheeks. From grief and heartache but not only. There was something else there too. Like an after shake of an old joy. An old love, half forgotten.
Effie occupied most of the couch so Haymitch sat down on the floor, arm slumped against the seat, their faces on the same level.
"What was that?" she asked softly.
Haymitch shrugged.
"Just something I wrote. A long time ago."
He leaned into his palm and rested his free hand on her belly.
"I think they liked it," said Effie. "I know I did."
But it was like Haymitch didn't even hear her. He brushed her stomach in soft strokes. He'd done so a lot lately, to his own surprise. It got easier and easier. Like all he had to do was give himself a little time to get used to it.
It was an odd sort of craving and one he couldn't be without.
Effie brushed her fingers absent-mindedly against his hair, his neck. Just like in the old days. Way back in another time, another life.
"I hope they take after you," she said. "I hope they have your eyes, your hair, your smile, your heart. Your heart, most of all."
"God forbid," Haymitch mumbled. "Nah, I'm just glad if they get my sense of fashion." He brushed his fingertips just below her belly button. Felt something there. Like a rhythmic twitching. Too weak to be actual kicks.
"What're they up to now?"
Effie smiled.
"I'm afraid one of them's got a case of the hiccups."
"Really?" He brushed his thumb soothingly up and down. "Sit on your head, have a drink."
"You did not just say that!" Effie chuckled.
"What? Works every time." They stirred underneath his palm while he spoke. He liked to think they knew he was here. Sensed it somehow. "What else can they do?"
"Well," said Effie. "They can dream."
"'bout what?"
"What, indeed. And they recognize our voices."
"Both of us?"
"Both of us."
He felt another little nudge. On impulse he leaned in and brushed his lips against her belly. Twice.
It was the first time he ever did something like that but he knew in his heart that it wouldn't be the last.
When he looked back at Effie, their faces were so close their noses nearly touched. Her heart fluttered in her chest like it always did when she gazed into those kind, gray, beautiful eyes.
"Hey," he said. "That name you talked about. We can call her Amandalyn, if you want."
"Really?"
"Yeah. My broth…" His voice faltered. "Name's kinda been growing on me, you know. Besides, it's like you said. It's not like we're ever gonna call her that. She'll be Amy to everyone."
Effie smiled.
"Then you must choose a name for our boy."
"Yeah? What if I pick something awful?"
"You won't," she said and had barely finished the sentence before their lips met.
Afterward, neither of them knew who initiated it. Which one of them moved in first. Like their pregnancy, it just happened. They fell into one another, as surely as a fork falls to the ground when you drop it.
"Maybe we shouldn't," Haymitch mumbled, but the words were so weak it was pathetic. His hand which had rested on her tummy all this time moved up until he cupped her cheek. His body acted on its own now while his mind and reason took the backseat. Effie sighed with pleasure as he deepened the kiss and he saw his own lust reflected in her eyes.
"Take me to bed."
It was so late. Effie's room was full of shadows. He pulled her inside, their hands entwined like a pair of virgins on their wedding night.
He only ever let go to make sure the curtains were pulled, the blinds shut. His heart beat so hard and thick it made him butter-fingered but none of those nosey neighbors would get a show from this house tonight.
Effie stood where he left her, in the middle of the room.
"No, keep it dark," she said when he reached for the table lamp. Even in this dim light he caught her blush. "I don't look the same anymore."
"I kinda figured that one out m'self, believe it or not."
"I mean, I'm all sweaty and… I have stretch marks and my legs… well, I haven't been able to shave them properly … I c-can't quite… reach…"
She was stuttering for he had grasped her hand and pulled her to him.
"Always so superficial."
Despite the hot flashes, her fingers were ice-cold. Clasped between his warm ones he brought them to his lips. Effie swallowed thickly, from the sweet desire those simple kisses evoked in her.
"Come here, sweetheart." He brushed a kiss to her hot cheek, so near his nose got smushed. Effie sighed and breathed in the scent of his skin that never failed to intoxicate her. Especially now, fresh from the shower.
She snuggled against his chest, as close as her big belly allowed. He sought her lips in a deep kiss and she moaned. He'd always been the greatest kisser.
Grounded by his steady arms, Effie buried her hands in those soft, brittle tresses of dirty blonde hair. Her dress loosened, pooled, swam on her as he tugged the zipper down.
Effie groaned against his mouth and yet her hand pressed to her bosom, delaying the moment when the dress would drop to her ankles.
Her face was red as a stop sign and she gazed up at him, almost apologetically. Afraid he'd mock her for being self-conscious or sigh in frustration. She wouldn't bear it if he did either.
He didn't. Instead he took a little step back and started to unbutton his shirt. It was quick work since most buttons were already missing. He shouldered out of it and dropped it in the old rocking chair.
His hands went to the waistband of those knotty old sweatpants. He always did killer double knots, impossible to undo even for her and he made the process short and just pulled his pants and underpants down in one go. Pushed the garment backward with a light foot.
Mercy, he was fine, striking.
Effie still held on to her dress but there wasn't much strength left in her grip. Not with Haymitch standing there stark naked in front of her and she could see with her own eyes he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him.
He took her in his arms and when he kissed her this time she gave in to it, completely. She wound her arms around his neck, the dress pooled to the floor and she stepped out of it, safe in the knowledge he wouldn't let her fall.
It was the first time they ever undressed completely before they lay down on a bed. All to make it easier for Effie in her current condition.
Haymitch drank in the sight of her. He couldn't look away. Couldn't keep his hands away. Everything about her was rounder now, heavier, softer. The curve of her hips, the swell of her belly, the shape of her breasts. He didn't see anything he didn't like. She was his Effie. Beautiful in a new and exciting way.
The dull headache had diminished to almost nothing. Now all he wanted was her. The only crave stronger than his crave for a drink.
He felt home. Out of the woods. Home.
Still conscious of the two between them his hand found her tummy again. Tried to detect any sudden jerks or movements from freaked out twins.
"Sure it's safe?" he whispered, forehead against hers.
"As long as you don't put any pressure on my belly, we're OK."
She brushed her lips against the hollow of his throat, feather-light and Haymitch screwed his eyes shut. She did that sometimes. Used to do, he should say. Kissed him and caressed him in his most exposed, tender places.
You'd think after his time in the arena he wouldn't like it. To be at someone's mercy like that, in lack of a better word.
But like in so many other ways, Effie was the exception. With her, he let his guard down. Allowed himself to be vulnerable. That's how he got his fucking heart crushed.
And yet, here he was again. Doing the same thing.
Memories preyed on his mind, called for attention. Memories of an icy platform. A train only minutes from departure. And Effie, her tummy still flat and with tears streaming down her face.
But he brushed the image away, just like in the shower.
He didn't want to think about then. He didn't want to think about later. All that mattered was now.
Effie lay down on the bed and when he reached for the table lamp this time she didn't stop him. Her hair fell in sandy waves over the pillow. She smiled at him, naked and rosy.
"It's not fair, sweetheart."
"What?"
"Next to you I look like something the cat dragged in."
She laughed behind her hand and those little crow's feet that he loved appeared by her eyes.
"Then it's a cat with excellent taste."
She pulled him to her and he crawled in with her, on top of her but still with plenty of space between them. He scooted lower, a little spooked they were actually four people in this room.
"You OK in there?" he murmured, cheek against her tummy. "Maybe you two could just… look the other way for the next half hour or so? That'd be great."
Effie raked her fingers through his hair. Haymitch was the mother hen in this family, no doubt.
But the smile soon melted from her face when she felt his hands on her. Those expert hands that could be just as rough as they were gentle and now tenderer than ever.
Her socks were still on and Haymitch cupped her calf as he eased them off, one after another. He ran his fingers along the soft, blonde down on her leg.
Effie opened her mouth but before she could say anything he dropped a kiss to her inner thigh and the words turned into a moan.
"That OK?"
"Yeah," she nodded. These were the only moments she spoke in that manner, allowed herself such words. "Don't stop."
He kissed her again, closer to his goal. Effie screwed her eyes shut. Groaned at the sensation of his stubble against the sensitive skin. He gave her knee a little nudge, to part her legs further and found no resistance there.
"Ohh!" Effie pressed her knuckles into the headboard as the pleasure built. Haymitch's face was now between her legs. She couldn't quite see him, not with her belly in the way, but she felt it. What he was up to. "Oh, God!"
He held on to her hip to ground himself and help his quest while his free hand roamed the curves of her body. He may not know his way around the Capitol but he knew his way around her. How to kiss her and where to kiss her, how to move his tongue and when to add more pressure, bringing her higher, higher, higher.
She cried out in pleasure as the orgasm flooded her limbs, her brain, her whole being. Her legs quivered so badly it was a miracle she didn't shake the bed loose. Her muscles contracted and Haymitch thrust his tongue in time with them. Added one delicious second to the next until she lay in the tangle of sheets, slack and limp and spent.
"Goodness," she panted and rested her palm against her forehead. It was slick with sweat. "You are certainly not rusty."
Haymitch wiped his mouth on the sheets and pulled himself up to her again, face to face. His hand went to her belly, first thing.
"All good?"
"All good."
But despite her words, the crease between Haymitch's eyebrows deepened.
"They're kicking."
"Really?" Effie smiled. "Well, it's good you're here so I know these things."
"They're kicking more than before. They know something's up." His face was marred in concern. "Maybe," he said after a moment's pause. "Maybe, we should just… leave it at this."
"What?" Effie chuckled. "Don't you dare, Abernathy!"
"They wonder what the fuck's going on. Can't you tell? I can't traumatize them before they're even..."
"Haymitch," she said, softer now. "They don't know what we're doing. They're not freaking out. They're well-cushioned. Even if you went all wild with me, which you won't, to them it would only feel like they're on a nice, bouncy boat ride. Why don't you take your own advice and ease on the paranoia. Of course, I have to confess, it is rather cute that you're so concerned."
"Course," he muttered. "They're my kids."
But he looked into her smiling face. The orgasm had flushed her chest all the way up to her cheeks. The dampness of her skin made her hair stick out in wispy little curls around her face. She looked so healthy.
"Oh, sweetheart," she mumbled in his hair when he dropped a kiss to her neck. If that word had come from anyone else or in any other situation it would only make him annoyed or embarrassed. But right here, right now, from Effie's lips he found himself longing for her to say it again.
Interacting with the babies had made him lose his hardon but as he kissed his way across Effie's body - different and yet so familiar, it didn't take long before he lit up again. She could never quell his desire, no matter what she looked like. It was silly of her to ever doubt it.
For once, they took it slow. Her pregnancy forbade all the rougher ways they enjoyed in the past. Back in the day when they turned each other on so much, sometimes they didn't even bother with all their clothes or made it to the bed before they were at it.
Now he had to be gentle with her and to his own surprise he didn't mind it. Not even a little.
"Are you going to kiss all of me?" Effie smiled when he brushed one just above her hip and moved onward along her swelling side. All her embarrassment and self-consciousness were gone.
How could she ever feel anything but worshipped when he kissed her like that, touched her like that. Each time his lips brushed against her skin sweet, warm tingled spread throughout her body, until she swam in a pool of pleasure all over again.
"Come here," she sighed.
He moved in her and it was slow and rhythmic and quiet but not any less intense. His lips tingled from all the kisses. What would they look like tomorrow? But he immediately cut that string of thoughts. No tomorrow.
If it was the pregnancy that made Effie extra sensitive or the long foreplay or maybe because she had thirsted for him just as much as he had for her, he couldn't say, but she was coming again, mere minutes in.
Usually he needed his fingers for aid to make her come so fast but not this time. Eyes screwed tight, lips fever hot, she climaxed for the second time. Haymitch almost followed right at her heels but at the last moment he managed to hold it in.
God, she felt good. He thrust himself into her and tried to think of something disgusting to keep from doing the very thing he wanted.
Effie felt him holding back and she was of no help whatsoever. She only skimmed her hand over his ass and gave it a soft squeeze, right in time with his next thrust. Haymitch sucked in a breath.
"Careful."
"Come in me," was all she said. A sigh in his ear. "You can't make me pregnant this time."
The comment really shouldn't add to his arousal but he was powerless against it. Maybe because it reminded him of that particular time. Best sex he ever had!
Haymitch gritted his teeth until they hurt. Fought the urge that was as old as time itself.
He wanted to make it last. He could last, just a little while longer. Maybe make her come a third time.
But again he didn't anticipate Effie. Her hand which had been stationed on his ass this whole time moved in between his legs to his testicles which had already tightened for the inevitable release. Before he knew it she gave them just a little tug.
And he was screwed.
What little shred of self-control he'd mustered shattered in a second. The pleasure hit him like an avalanche.
Yes! he wanted to cry as the semen streamed out through him in waves that felt so good he damn near passed out and No! he wanted to scream, all at the same time.
Because he didn't want it to end. He didn't want it to be over.
But it did end. Like all good things.
They lay on their backs, side by side. Both out of breath, hair on end. Haymitch's heartbeat slowed from racing to normal and with each second that passed the unhappier he got until he felt like someone had shot a hole right through his chest.
A car rolled past outside the windows. The head lights sailed over the ceiling. It was like a reminder. With the blinds shut and Effie in his arms he could almost pretend they were really in Twelve.
But they weren't. He was far from home.
The sweat cooled in no time at all and he gathered Effie in bed. If only to warm himself a little. He spooned her like so many times before and still never once quite like this.
He held his family in his arms and yet he'd never felt more alone.
"Promise me, Haymitch," Effie whispered. Tendrils of sleep tried to pull her under but she fought it. "Just one thing."
"What?" he mumbled in her hair.
"Don't be wasted when you see them."
She knew then. Of course she did. Between his rationing and sneaking and chewing breath mints til he puked she still knew exactly what was going on. Probably had from the beginning.
And she asked nothing of him. Just this one thing.
"I promise."
xXx
Effie felt like she only just shut her eyes when she drifted back into consciousness. Nothing less than she expected. A night when the twins didn't wake her at least once these days was an odd thing.
She kept a journal over every kick and stir so she knew their schedule rather well and after her and Haymitch's recent activities it shouldn't come as a surprise that they were extra lively.
Still only half-awake Effie rolled over to her other side, searching Haymitch.
The bed was cold. With some difficulty she propped herself up and switched the lamp on, squinting in the sudden light.
Alone.
Even all their clothes which had littered the floor were gone. She found hers folded in the old armchair but Haymitch had just dressed and left. She didn't have to look at the clock to tell it was still very late. Or very early depending on how you saw it.
She crossed the room naked and pulled the dress over her head.
Leaned back against the old apple tree, Haymitch brought the bottle to his lips. He stared at the shrivel of a moon, reflected in the pond. The only light in a black sky.
The wind rustled through the branches which only weeks earlier were in full bloom, snowing apple blossoms over anyone who passed under it. Or sat under it.
It was a warm night. Still and silent. Even here. Even now.
He only ever looked up when the door opened and Effie appeared. Just like he knew she would. In her morning gown and pink slippers, her face framed by a disarray of strawberry blonde hair. Big and heavy with his children.
Pretty as a picture.
"You OK?" She remained by the threshold, unsure if he wanted to be left alone or not. The night was so quiet you could hear the slosh of liquor when Haymitch tipped the bottle up. "Why don't you come back to bed?"
He wanted to. Truly he did. More than ever before. Back to bed. Back in her arms.
But he didn't say it.
Because he hadn't changed. Their problems were still there. Still the same. He knew how this story ended and he wouldn't survive losing her a second time.
"I've been thinking," he said. "About last night."
Effie didn't speak. Not even to point out technically it was still last night. She only waited.
"I think it's best if it doesn't happen again. Things are complicated enough as it is."
"Oh," she said. "Well… I suppose you're right."
They lapsed into silence. For almost a full minute. Effie's gaze went to his hand. The one not holding a bottle.
"What's that?" was all she could think of to say.
Haymitch held up the hardback. Turned it over, like he only just noticed it. It was one of the baby name books.
"I think I found one," he said. "A name for the boy."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. How about 'Ian'?"
"Ian," said Effie slowly, like tasting it.
"It means 'gift'. According to the book."
"Ian." And slowly a smile spread across Effie's face. "Yes," she said. "Yes. Ian Trinket Abernathy, that's our son."
Haymitch put the bottle aside and offered her his hand. With the tree trunk for added support Effie lowered herself down next to him on the grass. Haymitch put his arm around her and she leaned into his side.
"You never told me it was a wishing pond," he said and nodded toward the water. Even in this scarce light you could still spot the silver and copper coins at the muddy bottom. "Made many wishes here?"
"You don't even know."
June, Annabel and Effie got most of his Games winnings these days but he kept some to pay for cheap liquor and breath mints. And sure enough. When he got his hand out of his pocket he was holding two coins.
He didn't believe in it. Wishes never came true. Not really. And yet he held them on his palm while he made his and tossed them in to the pond.
One for Amy and one for Ian.
Author's note: Haymitch and Effie are a couple of sweet idiots, aren't they? They want the same things, they're on the same road and yet they just keep driving past each other. What do you think/hope will happen next? Leave a comment and tell me your thoughts! Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing, following and faving. You truly make my day and add so much joy to my writing life!
By the way, if you liked the song Haymitch played for Effie, you can listen to it for real. It's called "Daydreaming" by Luke Faulkner.