Chapter 39
Kicking the can down the alley
"And here's a little duck. Little duck goes 'quack!' Can you say 'quack,' sweet angel?"
"Ga!" Ian plucked the rubber bird from his mother's hand. Drool trickled as he gnawed on it. Like a dog on a bone. Effie smiled. He'd done that a lot lately. Everything and everyone was a chew toy.
Another tooth on the way, probably.
His sister gingerly touched a green turtle floating in the water. With the bird's head still in his mouth, Ian babbled a string of nonsense words her way. The secret language only they understood.
Amy answered with a curt "un-nuh" and splashed her hands about. Belly-laughed when the toys bobbed.
The sight of those two broke through the melancholy in her heart. Effie chuckled.
"My darlings. What would I do without you?"
She found the blue watering can at the bottom of the tub and showered the girl's sprawled out fingers.
"Water feels nice doesn't it, sweetling?" Amy held her hands out for the toy and Effie gave it to her. "Remember your first time? So angry. Downright furious when I put you in the bath seat. And dada, tugging at my sleeve the whole time. 'The water's too hot. The water's too cold.'"
Amy flashed a smile at the silly mom voice. She was ahead of her brother in the tooth department. Two little rice grains had sprouted up in the middle of her lower jaw. They never failed to make Haymitch laugh when she laughed.
"Yes, your poor, sweet, handsome father", Effie said. "If he'd gotten his way we would've waited until you were covered in grime."
"What's the damn hurry?" he'd whined into her neck that day. Eyes on his crying baby, it was all he could do not to snatch the girl up and make a run for it. "They're like a minute old! Why d'ya have to torment her like this?"
"There we go," Effie cooed and adjusted Amy against the daisy-shaped bath pillow. "Don't worry, precious. I'll be quick about it. Just a few more moments and then a soft, cozy bathrobe's waiting for you. Haymitch, stop poking my shoulder. Everything's under control. If this is too overwhelming for you, go do something useful instead. Wash the dishes. Take a nap. We both know you need it."
"Why don't you make me, sweetheart?" Haymitch snarled. "I ain't goin' nowhere."
"She's not in pain. She's not in any danger. A bit surly perhaps. You'd know. You have virtually the same reaction every time I tell you to bathe."
Haymitch didn't even dignify that with a response. Anguish radiated off of him like heat.
Who could blame him? A newborn's cry, before they really got the lungs for it, was the most pitiful, heartbreaking sound around. And Haymitch had never been able to handle children crying. Any cry.
Like the Victory Tour for instance. Those endless nights at the train. You could set your watch by him. The moment Katniss's bloodcurdling screams pierced the stillness he'd stagger down the narrow, rocking corridor to her room.
Effie's room that was. Even in his state, Haymitch knew better than most that the last thing the girl wanted when coming out of a nightmare was her cross-eyed, whiskey-reeking mentor at the door. He could be as concerned and well-meaning as he liked.
But the escort? Good ol' Effs Trinket. She was fair game. Free to bother. Probably going over tomorrow's schedule anyway.
"Fucking hell," he muttered as the door slid shut behind him. "She gon' scream herself from district to district?" And without even a side-glance he crossed Effie's chamber and hurled himself onto the bed.
"Well, hello to you too," said Effie from the depths of an armchair. Clipboard in hand. Hair covered up. "Don't be shy. Make yourself comfortable."
Another hair-raising cry, three doors down. Haymitch flinched like someone put a bullet in him. He grabbed the nearest pillow and pressed it over his head.
"Oh, that poor thing," Effie sighed. "I wish we could do something. I gave her pills to sleep. But she won't take them anymore."
"Course not," Haymitch muttered, curled up on the mattress. "I'd pick a nightmare over your so-called sleeping pills any day."
"You never tried them."
"Nor will I." He sniffed. "Could use a bottle though. Or three. Got any? I ain't picky."
"You know I don't. And don't tell me you've already finished the ones in your room?"
"My room. Peeta's."
"Haymitch!"
"What? He won't miss 'em. You should thank me. No underage drinking on my watch."
"How incredibly considerate." She returned to the clipboard. Scribbled a few words in the margins. Wasn't until five minutes passed that she raised her head again, ears pricked up.
"Listen," she said. "So quiet." And in a low, conspiratory voice: "Do you know what I think? I think it's Peeta. He's gone to her room again."
"That a fact?"
"I've seen it. With my own eyes. So did Octavia. He's probably in her bed right now, as we speak."
"Octavia's?"
"Katniss's of course!"
"Wow. Breaking news, sweetheart. As usual you're the last to know. And so what? If they need a lil' comfort, I say go for it. If there's one person in this rotten world who can give that girl some peace of mind it's Peeta."
"So no red flags?" Effie's voice brimmed over with frustration. "Two teenagers, teeming with hormones. Together. In bed. Night after night. It doesn't make you the least bit concerned?"
"They're just kids, Eff."
"To you maybe." She dropped the clipboard on the side table. "I sat her down earlier. Just the two of us. A much needed talk, I'd say. On this train I am the closest thing she has to a mother, you know," she said, head high like: "Don't you dare take this away from me."
"Talk about what, sweetheart? The birds and the bees?"
"Someone had to."
"Jesus …"
"And I tried, Haymitch! I tried to bring up the importance of being prepared. Several times. But that girl! It was all 'I have a headache, Effie' and 'We promise to make an effort to be more discreet, Effie' – which they don't, I might add. So." She reached under the table, where her purse resided. "I need you to bring Peeta these."
Ignoring a direct order from Effie Trinket was a lost cause. Finally, Haymitch heaved a great sigh and pulled himself to sitting. Leaky-eyed. Hair on end. A look on his face like Buttercup when bothered.
"What is this?" He squinted at the package on his lap. The letters.
And in the span of two seconds he'd all but sobered up.
"You havin' sex, Eff? Cause I don't think I'm that cool 'bout you getting your rocks off while everything falls apart 'round us."
Effie sighed. Rubbed the space between her eyebrows, like getting a headache.
"You know what? Sometimes I wonder if you were dropped as a child. Do I look frisky to you? How would I even get the time? With our schedule? Every sensible adult in the Capitol carries a couple of these. And even if I wanted a few minutes of stress relief, I don't need your permission, do I?"
"Minutes?" Haymitch scoffed. "What loser guys are you hanging with?"
Ignoring that last remark, Effie nodded to the packet. "They haven't expired yet so you will give them to Peeta as soon as possible and, if need be, explain how to put them on."
"I don't want …"
"I don't care what you want. I will not have a teen pregnancy on my conscience. It would be our fault, you know. We're the adults here. So yes. You will do what I say. Or I swear to God, Haymitch: You won't see another bottle from here on out to the Capitol and back again! I mean it. No wine. No whiskey. Nothing. So the choice is yours, mister. Take it or leave it."
Oh, if looks could kill.
"No wonder you're not gettin' laid." He turned the bag over. Eyed it from every direction. "Well, at least it's not some weird-ass shit with flavour."
"Nothing but the best for my victors." Effie adjusted the bandana wrapped around her hair. "Honestly, Haymitch. What would you do without me? This team would fall to bits if it weren't for my glue."
But Haymitch didn't listen as usual.
"'Shaped to fit you perfectly,'" he read. "'Super thin for a closer feeling'. Hm." He glanced Effie's way. Her slender leg crossed over the other. "We could uh … try one out first? See if they're up to par."
Effie threw him a dirty look.
"And if they're not? If one of them breaks while you're inside me we'll just … what? Recommend they try a different brand?"
"Please." Haymitch lounged back against her pillow, arm behind his neck. "I'm damaged goods, princess. Don't deliver no more. 20 odd years in a marinade of hard liquor? They're swimming in circles by now."
Effie grimaced at the painted picture. Spurred by his success Haymitch added: "I bet I could come in you ten times and not put you in a family way. Even if I had a swimmer or two still worth their salt I'd say it's risk free." A smile creased his lips. "You're well past your childbearing years at this point, aren't you sweetheart?"
"I am not!" Two red spots spread rapidly across Effie's cheeks. "I'm most certainly still fertile, you big old brute! Make no mistake! If I straddled you right now to have a baby I would get a baby! So watch that mouth or maybe I'll do it!"
And with a dramatic huff through her nose, like only Effie could, she retrieved the clipboard.
"You really know how to make a girl drier than dead leaves, don't you? And here I thought you didn't approve of me having sex."
"Yeah, but," Haymitch shrugged. "If I'm included, it would have its perks."
"Meaning: you get to have sex."
"Uh-huh."
"You're exhausting. Do you charm all ladies this way or am I just lucky? What's next? You won't give Peeta the package unless I put out?"
Haymitch rolled his eyes.
"Course I'll give them the bloody condoms. If you wanna waste", he studied the bag, "ten to fifteen good times on a couple o' kids who are barely past holding hands."
He dropped the goodies on the night table, with a disappointed grunt.
"You're missing out," he said and fluffed her pillow up, making himself comfortable. "Could've had some of the best orgasms of your life, Trinket. Just sayin'."
"Yes, being smothered by you and your whiskey breath while you struggle to put it in is a real turn-on."
Haymitch yawned in response. Laced his fingers together over the bulging belly.
"Don't yawn," Effie snapped. "You're not staying. Don't close those eyes! Argh! Where am I supposed to sleep?"
But it was pointless to continue. The soft snores of Twelve's mentor already filled the room. Conquered – this round, anyway – Effie ditched the clipboard for the second time that night.
Slippers on, she pulled a blanket over her shoulders and padded down the corridor.
Katniss and Peeta both looked younger asleep. With bated breath, Effie peered through the round window of the girl's compartment.
Their shapes were barely visible in the dim light. Katniss's hair so dark against the pillow. The boy with his arm around her, guarding her against the terrors of night.
Inseverable.
My sweet children. The glass felt cool against Effie's fingertips. I hope you get a dreamless sleep.
"Ud," said Ian, bringing her back to reality. He let go of the duck's head with a loud plop and Effie managed a smile.
"Sorry, dear ones. I was miles away."
"Mmmm-uh." Ian pointed out in space.
Effie kissed the tip of his finger and said, "You, you loved water from the get go. Pure bliss. I don't think anyone's ever enjoyed a bath as much as you did. So, naturally, dada was right back at the door because now it was too quiet."
She chuckled at the memory.
"Just look at that face, Haymitch," she'd told him. "He thinks he's died and gone to heaven."
Haymitch winced.
"Don't say that."
"Sorry. He believes he slept on the train over and woke up at a Capitol spa. Snug as a bug in a rug."
C-r-e-e-a-k …
The sound turned her eyes on the ceiling. Her daydream shattered in an instant. A door, overhead. It closed the way in opened. Gently. As if the one doing it didn't want to disturb anybody.
Or make the headache worse.
Her heart sank, lips pressed together. But she composed herself for the children's sake. Smoothed a lock of strawberry hair from Amy's forehead.
"Dada's awake."
The stairs complained under his weight. He lingered on every step as he made his way down. Painfully slow. You could tell just by his footfalls how hungover he really was. At least, if you'd known him as long as Effie had.
When the clock struck four she wanted him here. Of course she did. She would make sure. But she'd lie if she said his absence wasn't a relief. Things were far from ready.
So Haymitch tucked away for a couple more hours? Nothing but good news. Given his current state he was hardly an assent anyway.
A groan came over his lips once he reached the hallway. A groan. A sigh. The scratch of his beard when he rubbed through it.
Just go. Get some fresh air. Go!
Pointless. Amy grasped for Ian's rubber duck and her brother squeaked a protest.
One second. Two. Strained, shallow breaths right outside the door.
"Eff?"
Her eyes closed shut.
A soft knock. Just a tap of knuckles. "Eff, you in there? Talk to me, sweetheart. Please?"
She heaved a soundless breath, eyes on the twins.
"It's open, Haymitch."
The door creaked ajar. Just an inch or two. A pair of blood-shot eyes peered at her through the crack.
"Hey." The voice was thick and he cleared his throat. "Can I … mind if I come in?"
When she didn't fire a resounding no he crossed the threshold. Left the door open though, in case he needed a quick escape. He scratched his nose, eyes going from Effie to the kids and back again.
"So, I …"
"We're almost done in here," Effie cut him off. "You need to change. Take a shower. I laid out some clothes for you. Ordered them weeks ago, I hope you don't mind. We can't have you show up in sweatpants and tattered socks."
Haymitch nodded.
"Fair enough."
"And do something about that breath. There's both chewing gum and mouthwash in the bathroom cabinet. And toothpaste, of course. I'd say shave but if you won't, then at least trim it. We're on a schedule."
"Well, I don't see them filing a complaint if things don't go according to plan," he said. "Alright, alright," he added, palms up. "We're on a schedule."
"I don't have time for your jibes and zingers today. I only have time for them. You need to get ready."
"Course, Eff. I'll do all of the above, just …" He inhaled. Brushed a tangle of dirty blonde hair from his eyes in one pointless motion. "Can we …"
"Didn't you hear what I said?"
"I know how it looked," he said, eyes full of sorrow. Sorrow and regret. "Like I lied you full of some fairy story to get what I wanted but it wasn't like that. I swear it. I really went to see Pearl. Christ, I didn't even wanna drink!"
"Honest to God, Haymitch."
"It's true. All I really wanted was to get the hell outta there. Just hit the road and … be with you. You and the …"
"Did someone force the alcohol down your throat?"
Haymitch's eyes found the floor. Shoulders drooping he mumbled,
"She wasn't home. I waited. Some neighbor showed up. Old friend of Chaff's. He asked if I wanted a coffee. I said I couldn't stay long but we got talking and …" His gaze glued to her face, gray eyes begging for sympathy. "He proposed a toast, Eff. For Chaff. How could I refuse?"
"It's not Chaff's drink I'm upset about," Effie snapped. And, in a more measured voice: "It's all the rest that followed."
At least he didn't say he's sorry. If he tells me sorry one more time …
"None of it matters anyway."
"Sweetheart."
"… and I don't care for your excuses, OK! You want my forgiveness? Fine, you're forgiven. Because we are not having this discussion now. One single day of the year the universe won't revolve around you and your drinking. The 10th of August is about the twins. It's Amy and Ian's big big big day. All I ask is that you wash up, put on a clean shirt and keep it together for the next three or four hours. Then maybe, just maybe, we can give them a normal first birthday."
Author's note: This chapter had a mind of its own and grew way out of control! Finally I had to cut it into three chapters or you'd still be waiting. As always, thank you for your amazing support! You're the best readers ever!
Also, if you've re-read some of the chapters lately you might have picked up on the fact that I changed the names of three minor characters. Chaff's godmother became "Pearl", one of Effie's young students, friend of Gracie's, became "Kayla" and Gloria Highgrass's cousin was re-named Paris – which was actually his original name in the first draft.
Lastly, after years of angsting over it, I finally re-wrote the introduction of Gloria, just her looks, when first introduced way back in chapter 2. That's because I face-claim Florence Pugh for her these days. She looks like a fierce Capitol lassie out for blood, doesn't she?