Chapter Text
"Does he have to come?" Gale grumbles. His feet tap in exasperation against the tile floor of his mother's dining room, almost trembling.
Katniss sighs, swirling her spoon around in her yogurt. "The guy he usually does Thanksgiving with is in the hospital, Gale. My dad isn't going to let his best friend get drunk alone on the couch today."
Gale groans, but Katniss just shakes her head. Haymitch and the Everdeens are a package deal at Thanksgiving this year, whether Gale likes it or not. Gale will just have to deal with Haymitch's drunkenness.
Though his frustration may have less to do with that and more to do with the fact that Haymitch is sleeping with his mother. Who also happened to be Haymitch's housekeeper when they started seeing each other.
"It's wrong, Katniss," Gale insists. "He was her boss. Is this even legal?"
Katniss shrugs. "Just because something doesn't feel right doesn't make it illegal."
Gale scowls as Katniss downs another spoonful of yogurt.
"These rich people, they're sick. The Upper East Side is full of degenerates," he declares, scrunching his hands in his pockets.
Katniss narrows her eyes. Gale's well aware that her boyfriend is a born-and-raised Upper East Sider. No matter how much Katniss tries to prove to him that Peeta's different from the filthy rich people they mocked as kids in Washington Heights, he shuts his ears. It's not that he hates Peeta. Peeta's hard to hate. But it almost seems like he can't allow himself to like him, as if on principle.
"Whatever you say," Katniss yawns. Her nostrils perk up at the scent of wild turkey roasting in the oven. They'll have two of them this year, because her father brought one home from his upstate hunting trip without realizing that Gale's brother had already secured one. But between the four Everdeens, five Hawthornes, and her father's friend-slash-Hazelle's boyfriend Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss is sure they'll make quick work of the food. Gale's 20 year-old sister Posy has had the appetite of a horse lately.
"I'm serious," Gale presses. He begins to pace around the room, huffing with irritation loud enough to drown out the whir of the city outside. Katniss raises an eyebrow as he inhales deep.
"These rich people think they can get away with anything!"
Katniss bites the inside of her cheek, rolling her eyes. Gale tends to forget that over the past ten years, the Everdeens have been 'these rich people,' too. They've got the lawsuit money from the electrical wiring accident that almost left their father paralyzed to thank for that.
Gale lifts a hand to his hair, tugging on his shiny black locks. Katniss's eyes catch on something that makes them blow wide.
"Where'd you get that watch?" she tries to sound casual, but the accusation tinges her voice anyways.
Gale's pacing freezes. He bites his lip almost shamefully, but Katniss knows him well enough to know he isn't really ashamed. Not as much as he should be.
"You know she has a stake in Communicuff," he says simply. "It's just a gift. She got it as a party favor from some launch event, and now it's mine."
Turbulent indignation rumbles in her stomach.
"Gale, she's sixteen years older than you!" Katniss sputters. "And married."
"Separated," he corrects with a slight nod of his head. "Her husband knows she's seeing other people. I don't understand why you're so worked up over this."
Katniss coughs. "Because I expect better from you. And you'll ruin your own reputation if this ever gets out. Do you really think your family won't ask where you got a $8,000 Communicuff watch from?"
"Oh, please," Gale scoffs. "My family doesn't care who I'm seeing. And everyone in town knows that marriage is over."
Katniss shakes her head wildly. "You have no right to make these digs about corrupt rich people when you're sleeping with one of them."
Gale inhales a deep breath, choking on a laugh.
"I'm sorry that not all of us have pretty little boyfriends wrapped around our fingers," venom drips from his voice. "I know he'll let you walk all over him whenever you please, Katniss, but some of us are looking for relationships with people who take charge in the world."
Katniss doesn't try to hold back the steam pouring from her ears. Red hot fury sends flames licking up her vision. Gale made a mistake bringing Peeta into this.
"Fine!" Katniss slams her fists down on the dining room table, sending napkins and forks clattering. "You can screw up your own life. I don't care. We'll spend Thanksgiving at home."
"Good," Gale spits. "We don't need two turkeys, anyways."
Katniss flings her purse over her shoulder and shoves her chair into the table. As she whirls around to leave, Hazelle Hawthorne sweeps through the dining room entrance, smiling with flushed cheeks.
"Hello, Katniss," she says brightly. "Excited for Thanksgiving?"
"We aren't coming anymore," Katniss mumbles. She's too upset to bother with niceties, even for Hazelle. Without a word, she stomps out of the room, ignoring cries of "wait!" coming from behind her.
She's got a Thanksgiving to save. Gale will have to answer to his mother himself.
"What happened?" Hazelle blusters, unwrapping her scarf in a quick swipe. "Did you have a fight? Was it about that new boyfriend of hers?"
Gale bites his lip. Peeta and Katniss have only been dating a few weeks, but they've been friends ever since Katniss came into money and moved. Really, the guy doesn't bother him much anymore, not the way he did when he first started showing up with sparkling smiles and homemade baskets of bread.
But he can't tell his mother about his own affair with a woman almost her age. So he simply says, "I don't want to talk about it."
Hazelle hums. "Well, that's a shame. I was really looking forward to the Everdeens coming over tonight."
Thunder rolls in Gale's stomach, forcing bile up through his throat. "You don't have to lie, Mom. Stop pretending like it's the Everdeens you want to see."
The red blooming in Hazelle's cheeks nearly makes Gale sick. He can't bear to think of it, and acknowledging it out loud is even more nauseating. He'd encouraged his mother to date for years after his father's death. He'd simply never imagined she'd choose her drunkard boss after years of cleaning up puddles of his vomit and half-eaten plates of food.
Haymitch had cut a lot of his drinking and debauching under Hazelle's influence, but the entire situation still turns Gale's stomach in loops.
"I don't need this from you," Hazelle's voice is firm, her gray eyes narrow. "I'm an adult, Gale. I've raised four children. I can date whoever I want."
He buries his head in his hands and squeezes his eyes shut. Regret starts to gnaw at his chest over his argument with Katniss. He didn't mean what he'd said about her boyfriend. He was just angry.
But at least he won't have to deal with Haymitch Abernathy showing up to Thanksgiving anymore.
Wordlessly, he picks himself up and trudges to the bathroom, leaving Hazelle in the living room. As the door slams shut behind him, he lifts the sink candle to his nose, taking in the scent of smoke and apples. Relaxation streams through his veins, unwinding the knotted tension in his muscles.
Gale's eyes flutter open, the calm finally settled in his bones. He can do this. Hazelle's boss —boyfriend — whatever the fuck Haymitch is at this point — won't be at dinner to assail his senses with their repulsive arrangement.
But when his gaze wanders to the bathroom trash bin, his eyes freeze at the sight of a flat stick loosely wrapped in a napkin. Labored breaths catch in his lungs. The world around seems to soar away in fragmented debris as heat stabs at his chest, threatening to hurl him into cardiac arrest.
A pregnancy test. Two parallel lines. Unmistakably positive.
Prim meets her at the entrance to the subway, smacking on a piece of gum.
"Bad mood?" she starts, but Katniss waves her off.
"We're spending Thanksgiving at home," Katniss mumbles, unable to meet her eye as they swipe into the underground. Prim struggles to keep up with Katniss's seething stride, nearly tripping over a gaggle of children.
"What?" she sputters. "Katniss, we have no food!"
"We have dad's turkey," Katniss rolls her eyes. "And we can get everything else from the market."
She almost knocks someone over when she stomps into the subway car, a flustered Prim on her heels.
"And we could always pick up Chinese food," Prim offers weakly. Katniss's fingers close around the subway pole in a death grip, turning white as the car begins to move.
"That's the spirit," Katniss throws her a wry grin, and Prim's shoulders relax. "But I don't know how I'm supposed to tell our parents that I got us axed from Thanksgiving."
"Fight with Gale?" Prim scrunches her sandy eyebrows together, and as Katniss nods, she hums. Katniss isn't surprised when her sister asks no further questions. It isn't unusual for her and Gale to bicker. But they've never gotten into a fight severe enough to spark a self-imposed exile from Thanksgiving.
"We'll just have to make do, Prim," Katniss sighs. The buzzing voice from above informs them they've reached their stop, and the girls step out side-by-side into the dark platform and up the stairs.
"Not the first time we've had to scrounge for Thanksgiving," Katniss adds.
The Everdeens hadn't always had money. While their mother grew up on the Upper East Side, her parents disowned her at 19 for running away to be with an electrical line worker from Washington Heights. They grew up scrappy and poor for the most part, but their father always kept them fed with the fresh game he brought home on the weekends from his hunting excursions upstate.
The electrical wiring accident six years ago brought them millions in settlement money, buying them an apartment on the Upper West Side, seats at ritzy private schools, and a ticket to the sidelines of a new world of wealth. Katniss was seventeen when she was thrust into it.
Katniss always felt like an impostor at private school. For the first time since she was a kid scraping by in poverty uptown, she was separated from Gale. But at least it was where she struck up a friendship with a kind boy with a shy smile and ashy blond waves drifting over his forehead.
And after years of stolen glances and shared snacks and awkward flirting, they finally came to their senses and started dating a little less than a month ago. And she's never been happier than she is with Peeta.
Legions of Thanksgiving stragglers mill through the Hob Market, on the hunt for last-minute provisions. Katniss struggles to hold onto Prim's hand as they twist through the crowd, eventually losing her at a Amish dairy stand.
"It's always that damn goat cheese," Katniss mutters under her breath. She slips past a throng of people over to the soup booth, examining a can of lamb stew. Maybe it'll be good enough to distract her parents from her disastrous pull-out from Thanksgiving.
Her phone begins to buzz in her back pocket. She fumbles it out nervously, stomach churning as she wracks her brains for ways she can explain herself to her mother and father.
But when Gale's name flashes across the screen, she rolls her eyes and smashes her thumb against the decline button. Another call. Decline. Another call. Decline. The fourth time she feels her phone vibrate in her palm, she's too fed up to even look at the screen and send him to voicemail.
"What do you want, Gale?" she snaps into her speaker.
There's a deep cough on the other end of the line. "Hello to you, too, Katniss," a clear, masculine, and not-Gale voice chuckles.
Her cheeks burn, and a smile plays on her lips. "What's up, Peeta?"
"Of course you've already fucked up with the turkey! Of course!" his mother's shrieks rip through the air. "You jackass! You can't do anything right, not in your entire life!"
A wince ripples through Peeta's face, and he has to physically restrain himself from shoving his fingers in his ears. It's just one day at home with her. He can survive one day.
But Ryan's missteps with the turkey, whatever they are, will pose a problem. Peeta cranes his head to peer into the kitchen, trying to get a glimpse of the spread the catering staff is fretting over while his mother snaps sporadically at them. Tureens of pea soup and pumpkin brews sprinkled with pepita seeds; fluffy, browned rolls of bread; a roasted duck slathered in creamy orange sauce and stuffed to the brim with fruits and nuts; shellfish crowded around cups of springy sauces; a wide array of cheeses and crackers and breads waiting to be eaten.
Half of it comes from the catering company, half from the Upper East location of his father's bakery chain. Peeta has no clue why his parents would leave someone as flighty as Ryan responsible for the centerpiece dish in the first place.
But there's already enough food on this table to feed a football team, and nowhere near enough people coming to Thanksgiving to tackle the spread. It's all because they want to show off to Alma Coin, the business executive they'll be hosting for dinner as his father tries to wrangle a West Coast expansion deal for Mellark's Bakery chain.
Moreen Mellark storms into the dining room, almost barreling straight into the dessert table.
"Your idiot brother," she hisses, rage-chocked tears glazing over her eyes, "Has left us without a turkey this year. What will Alma think? Forget it, this deal is lost!"
Peeta begins to open his mouth, aching to point out that it wasn't a wise choice to task someone like Ryan with something important as the turkey. But as his blue eyes cautiously lift to meet his mother's, a jolt of fear streaks through his body on impulse. He can already feel her hands on him, spit flying from her mouth as she rains down verbal abuses. Involuntarily, his body shrinks back.
"I'll try to find us a turkey, mother," he offers, almost daring a slight smile. But he keeps his face stoic, responsible, careful not to come off as happy or too confident.
"We'll see," she snorts. Moreen twists around on her kitten heels and storms back into the kitchen.
Peeta's chest heaves. It's too early for this. Dinner isn't for another five hours. His fingers move before his brain does, climbing into the back pocket of his dress pants for his phone. Katniss is on speed dial, so it's only two taps before ringing begins to buzz over the line.
"What do you want, Gale?" her voice is clipped and irritated, sending a shockwave of trepidation through his body. After a few steady breaths and a series of firing connections in his mind, the panic subsides.
Katniss isn't his mother. She didn't know it was him calling. She isn't upset with him. But she is upset with Gale, for some reason.
"Hello to you, too, Katniss," he breathes, and as she chuckles over the line, he can almost see her trademark scowl melt away into a smile.
"What's up, Peeta?"
The sound of her voice relaxes his strung-up nerves. Sometimes, it's the only thing that can hold him together. The idea of having to spend this entire day without her almost knocks the air from his chest.
"I'm in the thick of Thanksgiving prep," he spares her the details, trying not to look at his mother in the kitchen from the corner of his eye. "And I'm guessing you aren't at Gale's yet?"
"Gale and I got into a fight, so we aren't going to the Hawthornes' anymore," Katniss sighs. "And now there's a giant turkey sitting in our kitchen, with no other food."
Peeta freezes. What could they possibly be arguing about so early on Thanksgiving? Before he can pry, an idea flits through his mind.
"Tell you what," he presses the phone into his ear. His eyes wander back to the kitchen, where his mother paces around with her fingers digging into her temples. "If my assumptions are correct, my brother has either burned the turkey, or hasn't started on it yet. We have plenty of food — why don't you come over?"
It's a gamble, inviting his new girlfriend and her entire family to Thanksgiving with his. Especially when his mother's in one of her awful moods. But when Katniss chuckles over the line, it sends a happy pang through his chest.
"You really have room for all four of us? Plus my dad's friend, who I'm positive is already drunk?"
"Yes," he says cautiously. Really, what's the worst that could happen?
They hang up after a whirlwind of "goodbyes" and "see you soons," and when her giggles stir almost too much unadulterated glee in Peeta's gut, he almost lets an "I love you" slip out. He sighs. Because he does love her. But does she feel the same? Even if she does, there's no way she's ready to say it back. Not a chance.
"Mother?" he tilts his head back, letting his voice stream behind him into the kitchen. "I found a turkey for us. But it'll come with a few more guests, if that's okay. My girlfriend and her family."
He hears a thoughtful hum from the kitchen, his insides lurching at the sound of her possible approval. It's so rare that Peeta can't help but relish it, and he forgets how risky introducing Katniss to his mother will be. Moreen's never liked his girlfriends in the past, and the fact that Katniss grew up penniless in Washington Heights won't do this introduction any favors.
Her family's money won't help either. Moreen's always hated the noveau riche, maybe even more than she detests the poor. But the Everdeens' turkey will surely score them some points. And he's told his parents virtually nothing about Katniss yet, so at least Moreen won't go into the meeting automatically sneering with disapproval.
"Fine," his mother calls simply from the kitchen. "Call the florist so we can send them home with something. Perhaps we've been saved from that moron I have to call a son, after all."
Peeta exhales. He hates how relieved he feels that she isn't referring to him.
Katniss and Prim duck into their family's apartment, exchanging a hesitant glance. They haven't quite figured out how they'll tell their parents everything.
"So, Katniss," their father's gruff, friendly voice greets them as soon as they step inside the living room, "Be honest: did Rory's turkey look better than mine?"
"I didn't get the chance to look," Katniss mumbles, unable to meet his bright gray eyes. Her mother and Haymitch are sprawled across the couches in the living room, Haymitch half-asleep and stinking of wine.
Katniss wrinkles her nose. She can't quite understand what Hazelle sees in him, but at least she seems happy.
"I don't know about you girls, but I'm hungry!" their mother chirps. "Hazelle's casserole always hits the spot, doesn't it?"
Katniss feels Prim freeze beside her.
"Um… we…" Prim stumbles over her words. Katniss bites her lip hard. She's always been awful at keeping secrets.
"Hazelle," Haymitch croaks, suddenly awake to the world. "Time for dinner yet?"
"KatnissgotusuninvitedfromThanksgivingbecausesheandGalearefighting!" Prim blurts out. She slaps a palm to her mouth as Katniss grumbles, but quickly drops it to continue, "Andnowwe'regoingtoherboyfriend'shouseandwe'resorryfornotaskingyou!"
Katniss raises her head and dares to meet her parents' eyes, which are blown wide in disbelief.
"Hope that's okay with you," she mutters weakly.
Her mother's eyebrows are raised to her hairline, horrified. Almost anguished. Katniss squeezes her eyes shut. She didn't realize how strongly Asterid Everdeen felt about Hazelle's sweet potato casserole.
"Okay," her father says calmly, his face still betraying his bewilderment. "And you're sure this is okay with his parents?"
"Yes," Katniss manages to say. Her mother only shakes her head.
"We shouldn't," Asterid insists in a small voice. "It's imposing on Peeta Mellark's family. Katniss, why don't you call Gale and make up?"
"Peeta's family doesn't have a turkey, Mother," Prim pipes up. "And Katniss already told them we'd come. It would be a total faux pas to ghost on Thanksgiving plans with rich people."
Katniss swears she can make out a groan rumbling in her mother's chest. Maybe it's just hunger.
"If you're sure it's okay with his family," her father shrugs, "I don't see why not."
"I still don't think this is a good idea, Burdock," Asterid insists in a firm voice, though it cracks when she says her husband's name. "And Katniss, dear, don't you think it's a little soon for us to be meeting your boyfriend's family?"
Prim whistles. "They've been attached at the hip for five years, Mother."
Haymitch exhales in a loud sulk from the couch, slamming his head into the cushions. Katniss scoffs.
"You can see Hazelle later, Haymitch," she spits. "Get up and take a bath."
"Your daughter is a cruel, cruel girl," he grumbles to Burdock. "After all we've been through together, she's depriving me of my woman!"
Katniss's eyes roll before she can stop them. Maybe Gale had a point.
"Take a bath," she repeats before turning away to slip into her room. She flops down onto her bed and whips out her phone to text Peeta, who's confirmed with his parents that she's all set to crash Thanksgiving. Voices rumble in from the living room, telling her that her parents are still debating. As pictures of the food at Peeta's house stream into her messages, her mouth waters.
Eventually, there's a knock at her door. Her father pokes his head inside.
"Good news, Katniss," he smiles. "I got your mother to come around. We're good to go for Thanksgiving at Peeta's."
Katniss exhales with relief, unable to stop the grin spreading over her face. "Really?"
"Really," Burdock winks. "And besides, it's about time I meet the boy who's been wiping that scowl off my little grump's face."
Katniss already knows she's blushing, but she doesn't care. She allows the giddiness to flood her body, a delicious feeling coursing through her veins. Allowing herself to feel so happy over someone else, so safe in the fragile security of a relationship, has been an entirely new feeling for her altogether. She was scared to let herself feel the way she does about Peeta, even more terrified to accept his feelings for her. But the change has been exhilarating.
Her excitement slowly quiets as reality sets in. It's no secret to Katniss that Peeta's mother is a menace to her sons and to society. Moreen Mellark probably already looks down on her and her entire family, if Peeta's told her anything about their background. She's exactly the kind of Upper East Sider Gale lambasts daily, based on what Peeta's told Katniss over the years.
But this has to go well. She'll make it go well.
He busies himself with gathering coats at the door as people bustle in, arms full of bundled Aritzia and Canada Goose outerwear threatening to overflow from his grasp. Annie Cresta, the Mellarks' next door neighbor, stops to kiss him on the cheek, offering to help Peeta hang up all the jackets in the foyer closet.
"Finnick's excited," she whispers as the sift through hangers. "He's never met someone who's gone to prison for insider trading before."
After Annie's husband, Finnick Odair, passes by with a wet kiss to her cheek and a hard pat on Peeta's shoulder, Peeta exhales a shaky laugh.
"I hope he behaves," Peeta says. "It would be a shame if he offended Coin's husband with a joke about that."
"Oh, he'll behave," Annie assures him. "We rehearsed how we'll act in front of the Coins. No jokes about insider trading, or getting out of prison with a wacky presidential pardon because you donated millions to the Trump campaign. Or the rumors Finnick's been hearing about what the woman of the evening gets up to with guys who are 20 years younger than her. Your father won't be losing the deal under our watch!"
Peeta laughs wryly. "Thanks. Because my mother is one turkey leg away from blowing a gasket and killing all of us."
Annie giggles. "You know, the pressure might be a good thing. Because then she'll have no choice but to treat your special lady nicely."
Peeta blushes at her wink and straightens up. Katniss and her family should be here any moment with the turkey.
Suddenly, a heavy hand thumps down on Peeta's shoulder, turning his body around.
"It's time to meet Mrs. Coin and her husband," his father murmurs, throwing Annie a smile over his shoulder as he escorts Peeta into the living room. Servers swerve by with canapes and wine glasses, and it's a concerted effort for Peeta to avoid knocking into them with his broad shoulders.
"Now Peeta, we all know how important this deal is," his father's voice drops. "I need you to be as charming as you always are. Your mother will be acting right in front of our audience, so you don't have to worry about things going wrong with your girl — Katie? Katherine?"
"Katniss," Peeta whispers the correction, and his father merely nods. Alma Coin and her husband catch their eye from the sofa, rising to meet them. Hands are shaken and pleasantries exchanged, Peeta dialing up his charisma to enchant the guests of honor.
"It's very nice to meet you, Peeta," Mrs. Coin smiles wide. "I hope we'll be seeing a lot of each other from now on."
Her steely gray eyes flit up and down his body as she speaks, sending a shiver through him. For some reason, it feels inappropriate that her husband's standing right next to them. Annie's words echo in his mind. The rumors Finnick's been hearing about what the woman of the evening gets up to with guys who are 20 years younger than her.
The doorbell suddenly rings, saving him from more conversation.
"That'll be my girlfriend," he grins, and the smile drops from Coin's face. "I'll have to excuse myself."
She mutters a farewell as he walks away, and eventually, his father ambles up behind him. Moreen's already turning the handle with her perfectly manicured fingers, a bouquet of red and purple flowers tucked under her other arm.
"Now let's see about this young lady," she grins almost warmly, and Peeta's too pleasantly surprised with his mother's good mood to muster any words.
Four Everdeens and a suit-clad Haymitch Abernathy appear in the doorframe, bearing a giant white cooler. Peeta's eyes find hers and they share an exhilarated grin. For a moment, everything in the world feels right.
His mother clucks. "We've got flowers for you, because you've really saved u—"
Her voice trembles and falters off, and for an inexplicable reason, dread claws its way up Peeta's chest. His mother isn't speaking, and his father has gone rigid at his side. Peeta's eyes wander over to the Everdeens. They mostly look confused, aside from Katniss's mother. Her face has blanched white, eyes wider than saucers, as if she's seen a ghost.
"Th—Thank you for the flowers, Moreen," Mrs. Everdeen lets out a shrill laugh that almost sounds forced. Katniss throws a bewildered glance at Peeta, eyebrows raised. He shifts on his feet, filing through his mind for ways to alleviate the puzzling awkwardness weighing down over them.
He's too preoccupied with it to interrogate how odd it is that Mrs. Everdeen already knows his mother's name.
Notes:
stay tuned for part two tomorrow, a Thanksgiving special!
Chapter 2
Notes:
Here's our second installment! We've got drama brewing this Thanksgiving...
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Katniss can't figure out why her mother is shaking like a leaf in the wind. Or why Mr. Mellark, a lug of a man in a well-fitted black suit, has his eyes fixed squarely on his shoes. He's completely unable to meet anyone's gaze after the series of lousy handshakes accompanying Peeta's introductions. Katniss also can't understand why Mrs. Mellark's chest is puffed out like a grouse, red-faced and dripping with something that looks suspiciously like resentment.
Can she already tell we're new money and not prissy enough to be here?
"My brother Brandon is helping out with the caterers, and my other brother Ryan should be here shortly," Peeta's smiling as he finishes his greetings, using that award-winning voice he puts on when he addresses the crowds at his art shows downtown.
Prim throws Katniss a look. She senses it too. Something is seriously, seriously wrong.
"Katniss and I will take the coats," Peeta clears his voice, slipping his hand through hers. Katniss squeezes it, eager to leave this conversation. She's not exactly excited to meet anyone else at this dinner, but she's desperate to get away from whatever is happening right now.
"I'll come too," Prim butts in, blue eyes wide and sparkling. She quirks an eyebrow as she takes Katniss's other hand, and together, the three of them storm down the foyer to the closet. Over her shoulder, Katniss catches a glimpse of her parents flitting away to the kitchen, probably to throw the turkey in the oven.
"Was it just me, or was that really weird?" she wonders aloud, shoving her winter jacket onto a closet hanger.
Prim sighs. "Mother does get nervous whenever we stop through the Upper East Side. Maybe there are too many bad memories?"
"Huh," Peeta says. "Maybe. And my mother's favorite past time is making people uncomfortable, so that just goes hand-in-hand."
Katniss chuckles, and as Peeta pulls her to his side, his warmth envelopes her body. She blushes, unused to being so affectionate with someone in front of any of her family members, but at least Prim's spent time with them together before.
"Thanks for inviting us, Peeta," Prim huffs, shutting the closet after the last of the coats have been dealt with. "I'm actually glad Katniss got us kicked out from the Hawthornes'. I don't want to see Posy right now."
"Why?" Katniss purses her lips. Prim and Posy, Gale's younger sister, have been friends since they were in diapers.
Prim groans, a deep rumble that lowers into a faint rolling sound.
"Don't tell anyone this," she warns, eyes flitting back and forth between the two of them, "but I have reason to believe she's sleeping with Owen."
"Posy?" Katniss sputters, scratching her hair. "She wouldn't. He isn't her type."
Owen is Prim's on-again off-again boyfriend. Well, he's technically an ex right now. The details tend to mortify Katniss, so she never asks for them.
"I don't know," Prim shakes her head. "I've been noticing his name pop up in her notifications the past week. It's really fucking suspicious."
Peeta whistles, eyes wide. "Well, we can debrief on that after dinner. But we should go check in with my brothers. And make sure my mother hasn't sent your parents fleeing to the West side fifteen minutes in."
Just as they turn to step back into the foyer, Katniss's phone buzzes in her purse. Gale again.
"I should take this," she sighs. "He's been calling me nonstop all day."
Peeta freezes, jaw clenched. She touches his arm and shakes her head before his mind can run wild with assumptions.
"We aren't going anywhere, Peeta," Katniss assures him. She stands on his tiptoes and presses a kiss to his jaw, making his chest shudder before relaxing again. His pupils fatten as her lips touch his skin.
"Stay with me today?" she murmurs.
Peeta smiles. "Always."
Gale pokes through his mashed potatoes, unable to meet his mother's eye across the table. Pregnant? At her age? By Haymitch Abernathy?
It's rare, but certainly possible. She hasn't had to bother with birth control for a decade, not since Gale's father passed away. And even if she is taking something, Hazelle can be forgetful sometimes.
A powerful shiver wracks through his body at the thought of Haymitch buying condoms to use with his mother.
"I asked, how's the food, honey?" Hazelle clears her throat. Gale's forced to look at her again.
"Good," his voice comes out clipped, almost sullen. Rory gives him a look from across the table — what the Hell is up with you?
Hazelle sighs, taking another bite of her casserole. "It's a shame," she says through a mouthful, "I was really looking forward to the guests."
"We know that," Gale snaps. Internally, he cringes hard at his tone. He's usually the picture of the perfect, respectful eldest son, but the situation has pushed him beyond his limits. There's only so much he can take after a lifetime of hardship.
He's lost his father, survived poverty, and somehow made a good living for himself despite it. The money he makes as a mechanical worker is decent, enough to keep the Hawthornes afloat after years of only surviving on Hazelle's salary as a housekeeper. Who knew it would be Haymitch Abernathy that would bring him to his knees?
He desperately wishes he could call Katniss. She usually listens to his rants and ravings, whatever they might be about. But she won't pick up after their argument. Thom's working, and Bristel took her week off to visit her family on the other side of the world.
And he's got no clue what Alma's up to today. She was dodgy when he asked about her Thanksgiving plans, gently reminding him it probably wouldn't be appropriate to spend the holiday together.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Gale takes a hard chomp of his turkey leg and almost bites down on the inside of his cheek.
"I'll have to send some of this casserole down to Asterid, it's her favorite," Hazelle continues with a hearty smile, seemingly oblivious to her son's plight. "And I made this ham just for Haymitch, so I guess I'll stop by over there, too. Anyone want to come?"
"I'm up for it," Rory says brightly. "I want to try some of his mead."
Hazelle's clucking, giggling with Rory about the food and the drinks and the Haymitch of it all, and Gale's entire meal threatens to make a reappearance only moments after he managed to gulp it all down.
It's sickening, the way Rory has suddenly jumped on board. But he has no idea what Haymitch and Hazelle are hiding from them.
"You think we'll move to the Upper East Side once you two get married?" Posy gushes. "Sorry, Mom. I've just been such a sop lately!"
Gale's body nearly doubles over, and before he can process anything, he's shoving his plate away, stomping away from the table.
"I need some air," he announces. "Rory, come with me?"
Rory shoots him a puzzled glance, but mumbles to excuse himself before following Gale out of the apartment.
"What's going on? Spit it out, please," Rory sighs, tapping his foot on the sidewalk. The streets bustle with the Thanksgiving crowd streaming in and out of the brownstone buildings, making the two tuck their bodies under a tree by their front steps.
Gale exhales hard. Might as well cut to the chase. "Mom's pregnant."
Rory's eyebrows furrow in bewilderment for half a second before his entire body tilts against the tree, head thrown back in laughter. As he continues to cackle, Gale's hands tighten into fists.
"I found a test," he continues, voice firm. "Haymitch got her pregnant."
Rory's laughter dwindles into silence as Gale's words sink in, replaced by a horrified look. "You're serious?"
"Yes," Gale presses on. "I saw it with my own eyes. And I looked it up. Not impossible, for someone her age."
"Oh God," Rory gasps, bringing a hand to his forehead. "What do we do?"
"I don't know." Gale's pacing up and down the steps now, eyes unfocused. His head whirs with thousands of possibilities, none of them good. All he knows is that he can't be here right now.
"I need to get out," Gale mumbles. Rory nods in the affirmative, unable to wipe the terror from his face.
"I'll hold down the fort," he mutters. "But as soon as you're back, we're swapping."
"Deal. And if she comes after me, make sure she doesn't bring the kids."
Without a goodbye or a second glance back at the Hawthornes' apartment door, Gale scrambles down the street, desperate to get onto the train. Maybe it's futile, after all the missed calls and failed attempts at apologies today, but he dials Katniss with one hand as he descends the stairs into the underground.
"Make it quick, Gale. I'm doing Thanksgiving at Peeta's now."
He sighs at the sound of her voice. "Peeta's? I'm on my way."
"What?" Katniss blusters over the other end of the line.
"My mother is pregnant," he pants.
"WHAT?"
"I know," Gale huffs. "I need to get the fuck out of here. Mellark will be okay with me crashing, right?"
"Sure, but — Gale — Haymitch is here right now," her voice drops.
"I'll see you soon, Catnip." He hangs up abruptly and shoves his phone into his back pocket, practically leaping onto the A train as soon as the doors open. Only when he crams himself into the back of the car do Katniss's words sink in. Haymitch is there. At Peeta's.
Gale's nostrils flare. At least he'll be able to kick the guy's ass.
Peeta chews his lower lip. He didn't think it was possible to have a moment more awkward than his parents' introduction to the Everdeens this Thanksgiving. But the day seems bent on continuing to prove him wrong.
"Katniss, I'd like to introduce you to Mrs. and Mr. Coin," he says, flashing a dazzling smile. But the charm he's put on for the day isn't enough to relax the rigid hand Katniss extends to the couple.
"Call me Alma," Mrs. Coin says in a flat voice, the smile on her lips failing to reach her eyes. "And my husband is actually Mr. Heavensbee, but you can call him Plutarch."
"Apologies," Peeta throws them a good-natured wave. His stomach lurches. Was it a faux pas to make that mistake? Problematic? At least he apologized. It can't be serious enough of a blunder to lose his father the deal, right?
"Alma," Katniss says slowly. Peeta almost winces at the stiff movement of her wrist as the two shake hands.
"She and my father are working together on some of the bakery's business dealings," Peeta explains. He brings a hand to Katniss's lower back, rubbing soothing circles.
He doesn't know why she's so tense right now, and he's afraid she'll try to hide the reason from him. But Katniss has never been the best at lying.
Coin tilts her head with another half-faced grin. "It'll be a fruitful union for our companies."
"I'm sure," Katniss's voice cracks. "Just like the Communicuff deal, right?"
Coin's silvery eyebrows raise, but the smile remains plastered on. "I'm impressed, Katniss. Prudent of you to keep up with news in the investment world. Not many do."
Katniss mutters something like a laugh, and Peeta excuses them swiftly. As soon as they're in the clear and wandering up the stairs, she yanks his sleeve and pulls him into a bedroom.
"Gale is on his way here right now," she whispers, round gray eyes alarmed.
Peeta scratches his head.
"I think that's risky, with my parents being in the weird mood they're in, but I guess we have the space and the food."
"It's not about that," Katniss snaps. Her worried eyes dart left and right, as if she's terrified of being overheard. "He thinks Haymitch got his mother pregnant, and he's on his way here now. I can't promise there won't be a scene."
Peeta's eyebrows shoot up, the lines on his forehead wrinkling deep. "Isn't she like, fifty?"
"Forty-seven," Katniss sighs. "It's possible. But there's also something else…"
Peeta's too afraid to ask. He doesn't know Gale well. The other guy doesn't seem to like him much. After several silent moments pass, Katniss's throat rumbles and clears.
"Gale's fucking Alma Coin."
"WHAT?"
"It started two months ago," Katniss heaves. "Gale was doing mechanical work in her building. They started flirting, and then they had sex. And kept having sex. She told him that she's separated from her husband."
"I don't think that's the case," Peeta sighs. "We can intercept him before he comes in."
"He can get hotheaded," Katniss warns. "And he's not the least bit willing to smile and play nice for people like your parents."
Peeta pulls her into his chest, drawing a yelp from her lips, but she relaxes against his body. His lips brush her forehead.
"We can handle this," he murmurs. He hopes she can believe him. But he barely believes himself.
Katniss peeks up at him. "Okay."
"And…" Peeta starts, pressing another kiss to her head, "I hate to inform you of this, but she was totally checking me out earlier."
A groan reverberates from Katniss's chest into his. "Seriously? So she isn't even just cheating on Gale with her husband. She's got other boy toys?"
Peeta scoffs in protest, pulling a few inches away. But at the sight of Katniss's scowl, he lets her rest her head on his chest again.
"If we're being technical, I believe it's her husband she's cheating on with Gale," Peeta points out. "And I'm not her boy toy. But my neighbor Finnick works in the world of dirty money finance, and he's heard rumors. Something about her sleeping with guys twenty years younger than her?"
Katniss hums. "Finnick must deal in secrets."
"I am deeply, deeply sorry about this," Asterid stresses in a heave.
Her fingers move to pick at the blond braid hanging over a shoulder. A nervous tic from girlhood on the Upper East Side, making its return in the corner of the Mellarks' giant living room. Another girlhood relic faces her head-on: Moreen Mellark's icy blue death stare, cutting through her chest like a knife.
But she was Moreen Burrage back then. Back when they were teenagers at the prestigious Nightlock Academy. Exchanging glares on the steps of the Met as Asterid walked hand-in-hand with Otho Mellark, accepting his kisses and baked tokens of affection.
After Moreen spilled wine on her dress before their junior prom, Asterid badly wanted to tell the other girl that she didn't actually want Otho. He was what her parents wanted for her.
At least Moreen eventually got to have him to herself. But only after Asterid ran away to be with an electrical worker and was banished from the Upper East Side once and for all.
But Burdock's busy with the turkey right now. He isn't here to protect her from the wrath of Moreen Mellark, whose fierce jowls and frowning eyes speak of a woman more bitter, more hateful, and somehow, even more jealous than the girl Asterid knew almost three decades ago.
"My husband — my daughters — they practically dragged me here," Asterid nearly trips over her words. The Mellarks continue to stare wordlessly: Otho blank, Moreen livid.
"Did you know? That your daughter has been courting our son?" venom trickles from Moreen's lips with the word "courting," and Asterid shifts uncomfortably in her shoes.
It's the term she insisted on using with Otho for several months, because she was far too hesitant to commit to an actual relationship with him.
"Yes," Asterid admits. Her eyes wander to the Persian rug beneath her feet. She hasn't stood on one of these in ages.
Otho sighs. "It's okay, Moreen. We can all have a nice time together tonight. Put on a happy face for the kids and our guests."
Moreen's eyes are still fixed on Asterid's face, but they somewhat soften from vitriol into skepticism. "Right. And it's too late to send them home. It'll just cause a scene in front of our guests."
Asterid nods slowly and forces a smile, lips pressed together in a thin line. "Right. I understand you've got a business deal on the table tonight. I think we can last one dinner."
Her toes scrunch inside her shoes, and she wishes she had a line of sight into the kitchen. At least then she could throw Burdock an SOS look, and he'd dash to her side to save her. But he isn't entirely aware of everything that happened between her and Otho, either.
"And, one thing," she clears her throat, almost wincing at how squeaky her voice sounds. "I haven't told my husband and children about my past. Well, our past. And I'd like to keep it that way."
Moreen squints hard, making Asterid's shoulders stiffen. Luckily, Burdock's clear voice rings through from the kitchen. "Turkey's almost ready!"
Asterid inhales deep. She can do this. She did it for eighteen years. She can take one more night.
After a round of banter and overfilled wine glasses with Prim and Ryan, there's a sharp rap at the front door. Katniss's blood runs cold. She and Peeta exchange a rapid glance, but they're only halfway there before it swings open to reveal Gale's tall, lanky figure.
"Where is he, Katniss?"
"Gale," she practically drags him outside by his collar, and for a moment, she's at least relieved he's wearing a dress shirt and nice slacks. Peeta's hot on their heels, gently shutting the door behind them.
"Where is he?" Gale repeats.
"You can't be acting like this!" Katniss hisses, careful to keep her voice low. She crosses her arms defensively, ready to keep telling him off until he turns around and trudges home with his tail between his legs.
"Katniss, I'm not going to cause a scene at your boyfriend's Thanksgiving," Gale sneers. "I know how seriously you Upper East Side people take showing off to whatever fat cats and corrupt millionaires have shacked up here for the holidays."
Peeta makes a strange sound, something of a cross between a sigh and a cough. "Happy Thanksgiving to you too, man."
A giggle spills from Katniss's lips, drawing a grumble from Gale.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Peeta," Gale mumbles. Peeta coughs again.
"Speaking of fat cats and corrupt millionaires… we've got one at this party who you probably shouldn't be seeing."
Katniss draws in a sharp breath. Gale will be furious that she spilled his secret to Peeta. But she couldn't stop herself. Saving Thanksgiving isn't a one-woman job.
"I don't want to see any of them," Gale mutters.
"Even Alma?" the words flow out before her brain can process them.
Gale's shoulders hunch over, rigid.
"She's here?" he gawks.
"Yes!" Katniss snaps. "She's here, and so is her husband. The one she isn't actually separated from. So you've got to go before this entire event is ruined when she sees you and you fight Haymitch and Peeta's mother murders mine—"
The door opens again, and a pink face framed by two hanging braids pokes out.
"Gale, tell your sister to stop fucking Owen!"
Prim's head retreats and the door slams loudly, involuntarily making Katniss shudder. But when she catches Gale's eye again, a smile plays on her lips.
"I really do not want to know anything about my baby sister's sex life," Gale groans.
"Me neither," Katniss mumbles.
When Peeta finally snorts, the three of them burst into laughter. Gale and Peeta look so happy and peaceful beside each other, and it almost convinces Katniss that Gale can behave tonight.
Maybe this will send the Mellarks' deal with Coin to the grave. But selfishly, Katniss almost wants Gale there. Coin should have to face her mistake. And Gale should have to see her husband pressed against her side with his own eyes.
"So Gale," Peeta blinks expectantly, "Do you think you can save brawling with Haymitch for after dinner?"
Gale throws him a wry smile. "I can try."
Prim clenches her jaw, chest fluttering as Posy's name appears on her notification screen. She taps open their messages.
Notes:
Stay tuned for Part Three tomorrow! But I honestly might end up adding a fourth. And thanks to @firehelpmeforget for once again allowing me to steal her OC Owen Sparrow from her Victor, Mentor, Mockingjay series here on Ao3!
Chapter 3
Notes:
Apologies for getting this up ridiculously late, but... I think the 7.4k words of pure chaos and Thanksgiving drama are worth it!
For a seating chart at the Mellarks’ dining room table, see here.
Enjoy.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Prim yanks on his wrist, nearly tearing the cuff link off his sleeve.
"What's up?" Peeta keeps his voice down. His stomach gurgles involuntarily — a combination of nerves and, admittedly, hunger as the earthy, savory aroma of the Everdeens' turkey wafts in from the oven.
A server drifts by with a tray full of French onion soup bites, and he shoves one into his mouth. Prim's startled blue eyes tell him something's very, very wrong.
"Gale's mother and Posy are coming here. Right now!" she mutters. Peeta's eyes scrunch together hard, though he isn't sure why he's surprised at this point.
His parents tolerated inviting the Everdeens, but judging by the daggers his mother keeps glaring at Katniss's mother as she speaks to Alma Coin, that tolerance is waning. Haymitch has mostly behaved, locked deep into conversation with Finnick and Annie, who he seems to already know.
When Peeta told his mother they'd be setting another place at the table for Katniss's friend Gale, she simply muttered a handful of obscenities about the company he's been keeping and walked away.
Katniss and Gale are tucked into a corner by the entrance with Brandon, and Gale's looking unusually relaxed. Hopefully Coin hasn't noticed him.
"Are they… joining us for dinner?"
Prim shrugs. "It seems like they're just coming to pick up Gale."
Peeta sighs, raking a hand through his curls. His watch tells him the turkey should be ready soon. "I'll warn my parents just in case. Gale seemed bent on staying here."
Prim groans loudly. "I don't know why. This could kill your dad's deal, Peeta. Even if he behaves, won't Coin get rocked at the sight of him?"
It's true. Gale should probably leave. There's no chance Coin wants living proof of her indiscretions sitting across from her at dinner while a deal sits on the table.
But oddly, Peeta doesn't want to send him home. Katniss was excited to spend Thanksgiving with the Hawthornes before they got into their fight. And she's clearly happy to have him here, now that he's behaving.
Prim blows a raspberry and downs her soup bite in a single go. "It frickin' sucks," she says around a mouthful, "That two out of four of Hazelle's children are homewreckers."
"Prim, are you sure that Posy is hooking up with your ex?"
"She has to be!" Prim whispers. Her fingers move quickly to pull her phone from her handbag, and she scrolls madly through her camera roll until she lands on a photo of another phone screen.
Peeta takes a sharp breath. Prim really shouldn't be going through her friend's private messages and storing images of them on her phone. But he's done worse, where others' secrets and lies are concerned.
"Oh," Peeta says. "That's odd."
Prim shuts her phone off and shoves it back into her pocket. "I don't know what they're up to, but I don't like it."
Peeta sighs. How am I going to get out of this one?
As Prim stews in her discontents, his mind floats to his mother, clenching her jaw and tightening her fist at the sight of the Everdeens. Really, at the sight of Mrs. Everdeen. Peeta wills the world to behave, if just for another two hours.
"What are you doing here?" Alma snaps in a seething whisper.
Gale's thighs shake. She's so hot when she's angry.
"Peeta invited me," he lies. "He's dating my best friend and thought this party could really use my lively spirit."
Alma narrows her steel-gray eyes, sending a cold shock through his body.
"You need to leave," she hisses. "I have a business deal on the table tonight. And my husband is here."
He bites down hard on the inside of his cheek, scraping at the bruise he'd created earlier in the day. A mixture of blood and humiliation mingle in his mouth.
"You told me you were separated," he grumbles. Gale's eyes flit to Alma's husband Plutarch, who chats away with an uncomfortable-looking Katniss by the kitchen.
"We are separated," Alma insists. "Just not publicly. I need him with me professionally for these deals."
"Fine," Gale mutters. "I see how it is. You can go be with him for the cameras, and I'll just sit back here on-call for whenever you want a piece of ass."
Alma inhales sharply, scrunching her eyebrows in fury. "Excuse me—"
Gale swivels around and storms away, anger rolling in his stomach. Between Haymitch getting his mother pregnant and Alma's betrayal, he's going to be sick.
Hazelle takes a deep breath, clutching the wine bottle hard through its brown paper bag. She figured she couldn't show up to such a ritzy event empty-handed, even if just for the few moments it will take to pick up Gale.
Admittedly, she does want to poke her head in to say hello to Haymitch.
"Mom?" Posy's voice pipes up as they stroll down the sidewalk toward the Mellarks' building. It's two blocks away from Haymitch's penthouse. If the Mellarks ask them to stay for dinner, Hazelle realizes, it'll be a simple walk up the street to stay the night at his. She shivers.
"Mom?" Posy snaps.
"Sorry, honey," she shakes the thoughts of the things she'd like to do with Haymitch tonight from her mind. They certainly aren't appropriate in the company of someone as innocent as her youngest daughter. "What's up?"
"I think Prim is mad at me," Posy murmurs.
Hazelle hums. "Why would she be upset?" She lets Posy go through the building's revolving door before stepping through, the chilly November air suddenly replaced with the lobby's warmth.
"Mellark residence, please," Hazelle smiles for the doorman.
He nods. "They called ahead. The son said you might be a little lost — 16th floor."
They call their "thank you's" before stepping into the steel elevator, which bears reflective mirror walls.
Really, she only knew where to go because she still has Gale on Life360. It's a shocker Katniss's boyfriend called to let them up.
"Posy — why is Gale so snappy about Haymitch and I?" Hazelle suddenly asks.
Posy's lips scrunch into a pout. "Maybe he's jealous because he's, I don't know, single and lonely?"
"Stop that," Hazelle warns. "Being single doesn't mean he's lonely."
Her daughter shrugs. "I don't know. Katniss doesn't hang out with him as much now. And he keeps disappearing in the middle of the night. To go sulk, I think."
Hazelle worries her lower lip between her teeth. Gale's been sneaking out?
But she remembers he's a grown man in his mid-twenties now, so it isn't sneaking out. He hasn't had a curfew since he was fifteen. Hazelle can't help but want to know where he's been going. In the middle of the night, she's either fast asleep or busy with… personal activities.
The elevator opens to a small entryway with a single door. Posy presses her finger to the doorbell, and a shrill ring echoes from inside the apartment.
The door swings open to reveal Katniss and her boyfriend, respectively garbed up in an elegant green dress and crisp suit. Hazelle gasps.
"Oh, Katniss!" she says. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you," Katniss blushes, and for a moment, she's almost disappointed Katniss and Gale aren't dating. But she seems happy with this new guy, who hasn't let go of her hand.
There's a polite exchange of introductions and the boyfriend — Peeta Mellark — gives Posy a warm smile and handshake. As Hazelle leans in to hug Katniss, she catches the couple exchange a strange, almost hesitant look. Huh.
She rises to her tiptoes to whisper in Katniss's ear. "Do you think I could say hello to Haymitch?"
"I think so," Katniss says. "Peeta told his parents about you. I'm not sure about room at the table, but they didn't turn you away."
With a final squeeze of Katniss's shoulders, Hazelle hands Peeta the wine bottle and whisks away inside. She waves a round of hello's to the hosts, who seem to be locked in an intense conversation in front of the dinner table.
Haymitch sits with his arms draped over the cream-colored sofa cushions, laughing hard over drinks with a lovely young couple. As she nears, Hazelle almost gasps again at the sight of them. Does everyone at this party just look like a divine figure sent down to Earth?
No matter, though. Really, she's only got eyes for Haymitch and his salt-and-pepper stubble.
Hazelle takes another stride and finds herself thumping straight into a tall, solid body.
"Mom? What are you doing here?"
She turns her head up to face her son, narrowing her eyes.
"Taking you home," she huffs. "Maynard Gale Hawthorne, you do not leave in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner without a word!"
Gale's eyes peel with horror. They flit away from her, and Hazelle's suddenly aware of a severe-looking woman with silvery blonde hair standing right next to Gale.
She can't be more than a few years younger than Hazelle, dressed in a deep blue pantsuit with perfectly-curated jewelry. Sharp steel-colored eyes examine Hazelle with an air of confusion, almost bordering on discomposure.
He's only a 25 year-old teenager, Hazelle thinks to herself. What the Hell could this woman and my son possibly be talking about together?
"So really, there's a sense of implicit submission in the tech industry," Plutarch explains at the end of his monologue, resting a hand on Katniss's shoulder.
Her body shudders, disconcerted. She isn't used to being touched by anyone but her family and Peeta, and Alma Coin's alleged white-collar criminal husband ranks somewhere below maggots in terms of creatures she wants in contact with her skin.
"That's… so interesting," Katniss mumbles. She wonders whether he's trying to creep on her. Maybe it's some sick game between the married couple, where they consent to each other's indiscretions with people twenty years younger than them.
If it's true, Katniss has no interest in being a piece in that game.
"Katniss, can I be honest with you?" Plutarch fixes his milky blue eyes on her, and she shudders again. His smile doesn't feel as sinister as his wife's, but there's something off about it.
"Um, sure," she mumbles. Her eyes scan the throngs of people scattered about the living room for Peeta, silently willing him to come save her. But he's wrapped in conversation with his brothers and Prim, worlds away from this painfully uncomfortable situation.
Well, uncomfortable for her. Plutarch seems to be having a jolly time.
He clears his throat, and suddenly, a solemn duskiness shades his eyes.
His voice drops into a murmur. "I have reason to believe my wife may be having an affair."
Blinding panic seizes Katniss's entire body, freezing her in place. She can't move. She can't open her mouth.
It must show on her face, because Plutarch continues, "The handsome gentleman without a suit jacket… he's been talking to my wife for an unusually long period of time."
A wry smile twists Plutarch's face, and suddenly, Katniss finds herself capable of breathing. It's an effort to control herself from panting, with windy breaths gusting through her nostrils instead. Why is he telling me this?
"I — I don't — who—" she sputters, refusing to turn her head toward Plutarch's line of sight. She knows what she'll see. She can't bear to acknowledge it.
Whatever flimsy lattice of a cover she has, having to look straight at Gale and Alma Coin will blow it to shreds.
"Right," Plutarch smiles. "I thought so."
Perhaps too late, there's a strong arm gently wrapping around her waist, pulling her in. Finally.
"I apologize, Plutarch," Peeta gives the plump man a good-natured grin. "I hope you haven't gotten too attached. Katniss and I are needed in the dining room for a few final preparations."
Plutarch lets them go with a good-natured wave, and Peeta pulls her through the bustling dining room into the now-empty kitchen.
"'Final preparations?'"
"You looked like you needed a rescue," Peeta shrugs.
She sighs, and after a few moments, she folds her body into his, enveloping herself in his warmth.
"Plutarch knows," she winces. "About Gale."
With her cheek pressed against his chest, she feels Peeta inhale sharply.
"Wonderful," he yawns. "Between Gale sleeping with the guest of honor and Prim wanting to tackle Posy to the ground… this Thanksgiving really couldn't get any more peaceful."
Katniss snorts. "Don't forget Hazelle's pregnancy."
"Right," he sucks in another sharp breath. "Well, on the bright side, at least we couldn't have any more drama than this."
She tilts her head up to look at him. "You know, I really would love for Hazelle and Posy to stay, but only if it meant no drama with Gale and Prim."
Peeta hums, and his mouth flattens into a thin line. "In all honesty, my parents weren't thrilled about them showing up. Mostly for space reasons. But you know how my mother gets about people who aren't… like her."
Katniss bites the inside of her cheek. She isn't unfamiliar with Mrs. Mellark's diatribes against the working class by any means. Peeta's told her countless stories about his mother driving away the hungry searching for food in the bakeries' dumpsters all around town.
It's probably why Mrs. Mellark was so taken aback with the sight of Katniss's own mother, if they truly did know each other from their youth on the Upper East Side. Her mother usually says little about her past, but Katniss does know she was disowned after she got engaged.
"I'm sure it thrills your parents, you being with a girl who grew up away from this world," Katniss sighs.
"Hardly. But I couldn't care less," Peeta tells her. He pauses, taking a moment to exhale. "Whatever the rest of the world has to say about it… I don't care. All I need is you."
Katniss's eyes widen. Heat stirs in her chest, and she can't figure out whether it's fear or longing or both. It's always been strange to her, the way Peeta can make these declarations aloud. They've only been together officially for a month. But she can't deny it.
"I need you, too," she says quietly.
Peeta pulls away from her with a small smile. "So let's go deal with this. Together."
Katniss takes his hand and squeezes tight. Of course, they'll go into this as one.
By the time they make their appearance hand-in-hand in the dining room, the meal spread has somehow grown even more extravagantly elaborate than what Peeta had seen earlier in the day. The Everdeens' turkey takes center stage at the long, lace-clothed table, candlesticks peppered between tureens of fragrant soups, platters of expensive cheeses, trays of roasted vegetables, and much, much more.
His parents sit huddled together near the end of the table with Brandon and Ryan, four blond heads pressed together deep in conversation. Discussing their final strategy to win over a contract with Coin, maybe.
Peeta sighs. They don't know it, but they'll need all the strategy they can get at this dinner.
"At least there's enough food," Katniss says. "But I don't see enough seats."
Peeta's eyes flit from chair to chair, counting fifteen. With Hazelle, Gale, and Posy, there are seventeen guests. He cranes his head to look through the arched entrance to the dining room, where he can make out Hazelle and Haymitch curled together on the sofa.
"I don't want to kick anyone out," Peeta admits. "They look… happy."
Suddenly, a pair of figures sweep into the room. Finnick and Annie, arms linked and coats draped over their shoulders.
"Unfortunate change of plans," Finnick announces. Peeta's parents and brothers quiet their voices and turn their heads.
His father looks as if he's about to combust with anxiety. "Yes?"
"Annie's feeling sick, so we'll be going home early," Finnick says, and Annie spits out a few coughs.
Peeta turns his head so only Finnick and Annie can see his face. Really?
The pair slip past Katniss and Peeta to give his flustered parents a round of well-wishes, and when they circle back, Finnick pulls Peeta into a firm hug.
"You have space for Haymitch's girlfriend and her kid now," he whispers. "But maybe we'll come back for drinks."
Without letting Peeta get a word in, Finnick and Annie hurry away down the arch and out of the apartment.
"Problem solved, I guess," Peeta mumbles. Katniss chokes out a laugh. "Great."
Suddenly aware of their presence in the room, Peeta's parents rise from the table and acknowledge them.
"We'll be back," his father promises with a weak smile, and his mother practically storms into the kitchen without a word. Once his father follows suit and disappears, Brandon beckons Katniss and Peeta over.
"They'll want you two sitting up here," Brandon says. "So Peeta can sweet talk the Coins."
Peeta chuckles. "What happened to 'children are meant to be seen and not heard?'"
Ryan scoffs from his seat at the head of the table. "You're 23. A little too old for that to still be in your head, don't you think?"
Peeta allows a false laugh to bubble from his chest, but he can't help the horrible sinking sensation pulling his body down into his chair beside Brandon. When Katniss takes her seat on his other side, she slips her hand into his under the table and squeezes.
Asterid looks at herself hard in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of her ruffled paisley dress. Her wedding ring catches on the skirt, and when she tugs it free, it leaves a fine tear.
After a slow breath, she cuts the bathroom lights and steps back out into the Mellarks' chandelier-lit world, ready to face Burdock.
"Food should be out by now," he smiles. "Let's go grab seats together before the whole table's occupied."
"I'm surprised they don't have plated name cards and a seating chart," Asterid snorts under her breath, only loud enough for him to hear. Arm-in-arm, they loop around end tables and servers carrying in empty hors d'oeuvres trays on their way to the dining room.
"You seem on edge," Burdock observes. "Was there something off with Peeta?"
"Oh, no," Asterid gulps. "Peeta's lovely. The picture of a gentleman. And I suppose Katniss is old enough to date now."
He smiles, and her heart sails. It never gets old. She's never regretted leaving behind her life on the Upper East Side for him, especially not now.
"He seems great," Burdock agrees. "I have to pull him at some point at dinner, give it my full assessment. But if you approve, I approve."
Asterid forces another smile. She opens her mouth to add something nice about Peeta, but Moreen's icy blue eyes flash across her vision.
Burdock coughs. "So what's wrong, if not Peeta?"
"Um…" Asterid hums. "I used to know his parents. Back when I was part of… this."
"Oh," Burdock says simply. His gray eyes flit to the archway into the dining room. "Classmates?"
Asterid sighs. "Yes." It isn't a lie. Just not the whole truth. Burdock knows she didn't leave on the best of terms with anyone from her past, so it feels sufficient enough to explain the awkwardness of their introduction to the Mellarks.
"Tell you what," he grins. "I have a feeling this turkey will knock their socks off. So maybe it'll knock away some of the tension, too."
With a stiffened neck, Asterid forces another smile. "That'll do it."
The large table of Thanksgiving offerings seem to glow under the light of the candles and overheard chandeliers. Almost all the chairs seem to be empty, other than her daughter and the three Mellark boys sitting near the head of the table.
"Everdeens!" the middle Mellark boy — Asterid can't remember his name, but he's shorter and blonder than the eldest — exclaims. "Please, come sit."
Burdock whistles. "You sure we're cool enough to sit up there with you youngsters?"
"Make that the last time you call us 'youngsters,' and you might have a deal, Mr. Everdeen," Peeta smiles, and Asterid laughs. She's unsure where he learned to be so charming. Certainly not from either of his parents.
As if on cue, there's a "Please, Peeta, call me Burdock," and the boys get to chattering away.
The middle Mellark brother beckons them to sit in the two seats between himself and the eldest, on the same side as Katniss and Peeta. The banter at the table is calm and warm, made warmer when Gale Hawthorne appears at the entrance and takes his seat across from Katniss to join the conversation.
Asterid's having such a pleasant time she nearly forgets who the hosts of this event is, who is also conspicuously absent from the table. Until a sharp voice rings from behind her.
"Peeta. I see you've taken it upon yourself to show our guests to their seats."
Prim curls her toes inside her flats, whipping her blue eyes around the hallway. She managed to throw Posy off her tail in the living room by claiming she needed to help Mrs. Mellark count the marbles in her flower vases.
She starts to pick at the skin around her nails, uncaring about the stinging blots of red blooming around her cuticles. How could she?
Against her better judgment, Prim frees her phone from her clutch and shoots him a text.
How dare he pretend he doesn't know? Does he think she's an idiot? Well, if anyone's the idiot, it's him, if he thinks she'll take him back this time.
Prim huffs hard and trudges through the entrance of the dining room. Her eyes flit to her family and a gaggle of Mellarks at the head of the table, with Gale sitting across from Katniss near the center.
She resolves to sit all the way at the other end, one seat down from Gale. Posy will probably want to sit near Katniss and Peeta to hear all about their new relationship, so she figures it's safe.
"A little far away, aren't we?" one of the Mellark boys calls from the head. Prim pokes her head up and finds all nine of the others shooting her a bewildered look.
Well, not all nine. Mrs. Mellark seems to be red-faced and glaring at her husband. For some reason, Prim's own mother looks paler than the lacy white tablecloth.
"Just wanted to even out the spread!" Prim calls back, voice loud but faltering. She whips out her phone again. Another round of texts from Owen.
At the feeling of a hand on her shoulder, Prim abruptly drops her phone onto her lap.
"Hey, Primmy. Excited for the food?"
Speak of the devil.
Determination stirs in Prim's bones. She won't let herself be bothered by this. It's practically her new middle name. Primrose Unbothered Everdeen. Her body turns slowly and she flashes Posy a pained smile.
"Yeah," Prim's voice tries not to betray her irritation. Cool. Unbothered.
Hazelle's here, too, and Haymitch, looking more put-together than he had when they arrived at the Mellarks' an hour ago. He's a little flushed, too. One seat down from Prim, Gale glowers.
Hazelle slides into the seat between Prim and Gale, and to Prim's horror, Posy plops down into the seat directly across from her at the end of the table. Great.
Unbothered. Cool, calm, collected, and unbothered.
"Looks like all we're missing are the guests of honor," Hazelle says brightly, and Gale seems to freeze next to her. Prim draws in a sharp breath.
There are only two seats left, squarely between Gale and a sullen-looking Mr. Mellark.
Alma won't even sit next to him. She's too ashamed to acknowledge him in front of anyone, let alone her fancy pants business partners. So Gale's stuck next to her pig-faced husband, Pluto or Plutarch or something, pretending he doesn't want to rip the guy and his Armani suit to shreds.
He takes a sip of his wine, letting a dizzying warmth wash through his brain and body. Alma's husband tries for some conversation, a few weak jokes about reality TV — seriously, does this guy think I'm some Philistine because I don't wear pretentious suits like he does? — but after a few minutes, he gives up and turns to Katniss and Peeta for his conversing. Good.
"That dress, Hazelle," there's a horrible grunting sound across from Gale, and he can't bring himself to face it. "Really brings out those eyes. Beautiful."
Gale's mother giggles, and suddenly, the wine swirls into a nauseous lurch in his stomach. Disgusting.
Hazelle leans over the table. "I put it on just for you."
Gale almost gags, and his fingers move quickly so he can cover his mouth with a napkin. Haymitch has some nerve, flirting with his mother like this in front of everyone. Especially when Hazelle's in her condition.
Her condition. Gale almost vomits on the spot.
Luckily, Peeta Mellark's big lug of a father rises on time to dispel his illness, tapping on his wine glass with a spoon.
"Thank you all for joining us this evening," Mr. Mellark says. "We hope you enjoy the food and the pleasant company as much as we enjoy hosting you this Thanksgiving."
His wife sticks her nose into the air with a smug grin, and Gale can make out Peeta almost cringing in his seat.
One of the Mellark brothers, the short one who sits at the head of the table, rises.
He continues, "I know we've got quite the spread of food here, but there's one last dish we'd like to present. At Mellark's, we like to keep things elegant, but to pay homage to our early days as a small family bakery with a flock of pigs, we present… the pig roast!"
Gale's eyes nearly balloon from his head when a pair of servants wheel it in on a small cloth-draped table. An entire roast pig on an ornate bed of greens, complete with an apple in its mouth.
Could these people get any more gaudy?
"A toast," Mr. Mellark says. "To our wonderful guests, and all of their colorful backgrounds. And, of course, to the new beginnings of a beautiful partnership between Mellark's Bakery and Coin Industries."
Gale grits his teeth as he raises his glass, willing himself to remain calm as Pluto — or Plutarch or whatever his name is — clinks glasses with him. He goes in a little too hard on the cheers, nearly shattering his glass in the process, and he doesn't pay heed to the alarmed look on the other man's face.
When Gale turns to clink wine glasses with his own mother, he pauses at the sight of the cup in her hand. Just plain water.
"Mom," he suddenly speaks up, "Why aren't you drinking any of the wine you brought here?"
Hazelle tilts her head. "I usually save drinking for after dinner, Gale. You know this."
Gale huffs. "Sounds like an excuse."
"Gale," Hazelle lowers her voice as she picks at her fancy roasted carrots. "What are you talking about?"
Carrots? Gale scans her plate. It's weird his mother has only taken carrots, plus a side of cranberry sauce. But pregnant women do tend to get weird craving combinations.
"That a craving, or something?" he blurts out, nodding in the direction of the carrots.
Hazelle inhales hard. "Gale—"
"Save it, Mom," he grumbles. He lets one of the servants set down a fragrant slice of turkey onto his plate, and without bothering to help himself to any of the other elaborate dishes gathered in front of him, he tears into it.
"What has gotten into you?" Hazelle snaps in a whisper. "This is completely unacceptable. I'm an adult woman who has raised—"
"Don't talk to your mother like that, boy," Haymitch mumbles. Posy giggles from somewhere to his left, clearly enjoying this, and Gale almost implodes on the spot.
"You have no right to talk to me about how I should act," Gale snaps, keeping his voice low enough to avoid being overheard by the other side of the table.
"Not when you're over fifty years old and knocking up my mother!"
"Gale!"
Hazelle suddenly rises from her chair, whipping her red napkin from her lap. "I'm excusing myself from this conversation until you get your act together, young man!"
She storms away in small steps, and with a mumbled "I'll be back," Haymitch springs up to chase after her.
"Pregnant?" Prim whispers, bewildered, and Gale gives her a reluctant nod. "You think they'd be smarter, at their age."
For some reason, Posy isn't reacting to this news. She simply pokes at her greens.
Under the table, Peeta squeezes her thigh softly. A gesture meant to comfort Katniss, or maybe distract her, as her knee bounces under the table. Why did Hazelle and Haymitch just whisk away like that?
With the hand that isn't holding her thigh, he's picking at his cuticles, an anxious tic she knows Prim has, too. She quickly moves to cover that hand with hers, intent on preventing Peeta from turning his fingernails into bloody ruins.
Brandon chats with her mother on Peeta's other side, while Ryan cracks jokes with her father. At least things seem to be going well on this end of the table, better than Katniss expected.
Peeta's parents, thankfully, seem to have laid off on giving the Everdeens the stink eye: they're too preoccupied with wooing Alma Coin and her husband, who shovels potato wedges into his mouth like he'll never see food again.
"Your turkey is incredible," Ryan praises her father. "Our family sometimes goes upstate on those fake hunting trips for rich people, but this is much better than anything we could ever scrounge up."
"Thanks," her father coughs into his wine with a laugh. When Mrs. Mellark shoots her son a nasty grimace, he abruptly closes his mouth.
"Katniss," Brandon speaks up, and she turns left to look his way. "I didn't know your mother grew up on the Upper East Side."
"I did," her mother tucks a few strands of blond hair behind her ear. "But I moved to Washington Heights right out of college, a little before Burdock and I got married."
"Which school?" Ryan breaks in. Out of the corner of her eye, Katniss notices that Peeta's mother seems to have cut away from her conversation with the Coins, staring at her son with wary eyes.
"Nightlock Ac—Academy," Asterid's voice falters, and Katniss scrunches her nose. Mrs. Mellark has fully turned to face her mother now, eyes sharp with some mixture of resentment and fear.
Katniss squeezes Peeta's hand under the table, an unspoken S.O.S. She doesn't know what's going on here. But whatever it is, danger seems imminent.
"Oh, that's where our parents met!" Ryan says. "Did you guys know each other?"
"We passed each other in the halls sometimes," Mrs. Mellark snaps, voice short. "But Asterid and I weren't in the same circles."
Peeta's hand tenses up under Katniss's, and she rubs a soothing circle over his skin, trying to keep him with her.
Mr. Mellark has broken away from his conversation with Coin and her husband now, all three of them observing the scene with apprehension. Peeta's father's eyes are wider than saucers, pools of blue swimming with something like discomfort.
"That's cool," Peeta's voice comes out small. Katniss knows he's trying to fix this, to detonate a bomb before it goes off. But neither of them know where the bomb is hiding.
"What did your parents do?" Brandon speaks up. Across the table from Katniss, Gale scoffs aloud, and she already knows what he's thinking. It bothers Katniss sometimes, too, the way people on the Upper East Side can't seem to go a conversation without asking what someone's father does for work.
"My parents were in pharmaceuticals," her mother says simply. "They owned and operated March's Pharmacy, if you've ever been."
Everyone's been to March's. It's the premier pharmacy in the state.
"That's a great last name — 'March'spharmacy,'" Peeta quips. "Rolls right off the tongue."
The joke draws chuckles from everyone around him, barring his own mother, and Katniss beams. He's regained some of his confidence, at least.
"You know, I like the name March," Ryan says through a bite of turkey. "We've had a pastry at the bakery called marchpane for decades, and it's my favorite. They're usually caused marzipan cookies, but our dad here wanted to keep the old English name 'march' because our mother was born in March."
Time seems to freeze on the spot. Suddenly, Mrs. Mellark's fists slam against the table, making Katniss jump in her seat. Peeta practically hyperventilates beside her, and she isn't sure what to do: comfort him in the limited way she can in front of a crowd, or tackle the witch in her seat?
She tucks herself into Peeta's side, sliding half into his chair. Katniss doesn't care how ridiculous they look. The entire table has turned their attention to Mrs. Mellark's outburst, anyways.
Mr. Mellark starts, "Honey—"
"I'm a fool," Mrs. Mellark spits out.
Katniss's mother scoffs. "Oh please, Moreen. We broke up long before that item must've come out."
"Wait — if you two didn't run in the same circles, why are you talking like you did?" Ryan butts in.
"Broke up?" Katniss finds herself speaking, and the words unfold in her mind. Her mother. Peeta's father. March's. Marchpane. Broke up.
"I'm going to the bathroom," her father chokes out, voice uncharacteristically unsteady. Without another word, Burdock Everdeen springs up from the table and retreats, and after a muttered "sorry" to Katniss, her mother follows.
"Mother—" Peeta starts, but Mrs. Mellark's corneas are still flushed with red. Katniss's entire world shakes.
Prim doesn't know what all the commotion at the other end of the table is about. Something about March? And cookies? Between the three glasses of wine she's finished, her ears are only half-working.
But there's something unsettling about the way Hazelle, Haymitch, her father, and her mother have fled the table in quick succession, falling like dominoes.
Peeta's parents seem to be locked in a heated argument, any pretenses of civility in front of their fancy business partners lost.
Prim downs half of her new glass of wine in one gulp, a shaky wooziness rushing through her body. The wine renders her nerves untangled, her self control unbridled, and finally, she turns on Posy.
"What kind of a friend even are you, Posy?" the words slur as they roll off her tongue, but she's too tipsy to care. Prim takes a long pull from her glass, finishing it, and makes a pale-faced Gale pour her another quickly-downed round.
"Prim, what do you mean?" Posy squeaks. She's trembling in her seat now, and Prim guffaws with laughter.
She's drunker than Haymitch now, words lolling inside her brain as adrenaline starts to stream through her chest.
"Owen," she manages to spit out, ignoring Gale's groan beside her. Katniss clucks at her, finally turned away from the Mellarks' squabble, and Prim ignores that, too.
"Owen? You know we're friends," Posy insists. She tears into a golden roll of bread with her teeth, almost devouring the entire thing in two bites.
"I know you stress eat when you lie!" Prim snaps. Somehow, her wine glass is filled again, and she makes quick work of finishing it.
"You dolt," Posy hisses, before her body freezes. "Did you read through my text messages?"
"Can you blame me?" Prim cries. Katniss and Peeta are shaking their heads, almost in sync. Gale buries his face in his hands.
"Owen's just been helping me!" Posy blusters. "You know about me and Kai."
Kai Murray is the mayor's son, Posy's own on-again, off-again boyfriend. He also happens to be Owen's best friend.
They broke up last month, after Mayor Murray's campaign manager found out about their relationship and demanded he stop seeing her. Posy's zip code wasn't good enough for their family's image, apparently.
"So what, now that you and Owen are both single, you've found comfort in each other?" anger streams through Prim's voice, but Posy's eyes soften.
It's almost like she can sense the hurt behind it all, but Prim isn't interested in being generous right now. Not after five glasses of wine and counting.
"No," Posy says calmly. She takes a deep breath, gray eyes darting to Gale for a moment before she fixes them back on Prim's reddening face.
"Owen's been helping me because I'm pregnant."
"Pregnant?" Katniss, Gale, and Prim's voices join in a muddled yelp, and Posy's eyes flush red, wet with tears.
"I'm sorry, Gale," she chokes on a sob, and before Prim's drunken brain can hurl any more accusations, Posy adds, "It's Kai's."
"Posy—" Prim starts, and she wills herself to break out of her drunken haze to muster up some kind of response. Pregnant. Is she going to tell Kai? Is she even going to keep it? Does she need help? Does Hazelle know?
Gale's trembling in his seat, face wholly blanched in a pale beige tone. He keeps opening up his mouth to say something and closing it again, unable to find any words.
Before he can figure something out, Posy's gone from the table, scurrying off through the archway. Prim pours herself another glass.
"At least it's not your mother," Katniss offers weakly, eyeing Gale with a sad smile.
Gale moans with agony, burying his face in his hands again. "This might be worse. Kai? His father's a total corporate shill. My baby sister can do a lot better than that."
"That's funny, son," a grating voice clucks from somewhere to Prim's right. "Because you've got no legs to stand on, talking about affairs with corporate shills."
There's an incoming volcanic eruption rumbling directly across from Peeta, spewing wisps of smoke and ash that drown out his parents' argument. Plutarch's turned away from his mountain of potatoes to square on Gale, his face redder and somehow rounder than the bowls of tomato soup being neglected at the table.
"Excuse me?" Gale huffs, his voice deepened into something masculine and terrifying. Katniss and Peeta wince together, holding onto each other's bodies for dear life. At least they can die together in the rubble.
Alma Coin, who's been silently taking in his parents' argument with a self-satisfied smirk, suddenly freezes. Her white skin rapidly flushes with gray.
Plutarch seizes Gale's wrist and raises it above the table, pulling down the other man's sleeve to reveal a fancy golden watch.
"DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW WHERE HE GOT THIS COMMUNICUFF FROM, ALMA?" Plutarch bellows. "HE'S HALF YOUR DAMN AGE!"
"Plutarch!" Coin hisses, voice indignant. Peeta's mother takes a momentary pause from reaming her husband to gawk at the scene unfolding beside them, but it's only a few seconds before she returns to their noisy quarrel.
"Next time, don't let your boy toys parade around with goodie bag items straight from your launch parties!" Plutarch yells.
"Watch your mouth when you talk to her," Gale growls, rounding on Plutarch.
Coin inhales, sharp and audible. "I can fight my own battles, Gale."
One of Gale's hands comes thudding down against the table, nearly knocking over Prim's wine glass. Peeta winces at the noises, the crashing, the yelling, the conflict. He thought he escaped it when he moved downtown, but the strife and chaos he grew up with seems to keep following him.
"Fine," Gale snaps. "You can find some other sucker working in your building to fuck. I'm done being your dirty little secret, Alma."
"Gale?"
Hazelle Hawthorne's voice comes out airy and astonished. She and Haymitch have somehow slipped behind Katniss and Peeta without either of them noticing.
Haymitch hoots with laughter, doubling over. "Talk about 'inappropriate workplace relationships,'" he jibes, scrunching his fingers to form air quotes around the last three words.
"Mom, I can expl—" Gale's choking on his words, and before anything else can happen, Hazelle's whirring with epithets at Coin, spitting out curse words Peeta's never heard in his life.
She slips into another language he can't understand, and as she alternates yelling between Gale and his paramour, Gale pipes up, "Posy's pregnant!"
"Seriously, Gale? You're going to throw her under the bus because you can't keep it in your pants?" Prim snaps, suddenly intent on defending Posy after spending the entire day bashing her. But Peeta knows friendships are weird sometimes.
There's a five-way argument unfolding between Gale, Hazelle, Prim, Coin, and Plutarch Heavensbee, pummeling Peeta's ears with verbal assaults.
He knows they aren't meant for him, but punctuated with his parents' argument on his other side, he feels his soul shrinking in his body. His mind retreats, desperate to go somewhere else, and he vaguely feels Katniss cling tighter to his side.
At some point, though, her body shoots up from the table.
Before Katniss's brain can process what her body is doing, the knife flies out of her fist, whirring across the table. It narrowly misses Plutarch's ear before it squarely sticks the apple in the roast pig's mouth.
"Enough!" she shouts. Peeta's shivering in his seat, clearly overwhelmed from the catastrophes rocking through the table and discordant chorus of fighting voices.
"Stop fighting and act like adults," Katniss lowers her voice, infused with a new sense of confidence. She won't let these people send Peeta into some sort of dissociative episode, not as long as she's at his side. "Have a little class."
"Tell that to your whore of a mother," Mrs. Mellark seethes. A blinding rage pricks at Katniss's skin, and she instinctively begins to lower herself onto her haunches, ready to pounce. But Peeta stands up from his seat and curls a protective arm around her before she can physically attack the witch.
"You're out of line, Mother," Peeta's voice is a little unsteady, but clear and assertive. Katniss's body flushes with pride.
"And I'm not going to dignify you with a response. Katniss and I are leaving," Peeta announces, and he turns her away from the table with a hand on her lower back.
Katniss hears the heavy drag of a chair pulling out behind them.
"Me, too," Brandon's voice says, and he stands up to join.
Ryan rises next. "And I want pie."
Katniss and the Mellark brothers stomp away from the room together, steps loud and confident. As they cross the arch, Prim leaps to join them, stumbling into Katniss's side.
"So Peeta, you think our parents had sex?" she hiccups.
Katniss stills her with a hand on her shoulder. "Go find Posy and apologize, please. And warn her that her mother and this entire dinner table knows."
Prim gulps, blue eyes glassy with intoxication and nerves. "Okay." She skips away toward the living room, where Posy's bundled in cream-colored blankets, almost camouflaged on the sofa.
"Safe to say this business deal with Coin is off the table," Ryan yawns. "Honestly, I'm not upset about it. I know Mother would take any opportunity she could to ship me off to California."
Brandon snorts. "Please. She wouldn't trust you with California. Your ass would be shacked up in Yakima or something."
Katniss squeezes Peeta's hand. Without needing to be told to give them some privacy, Peeta's brothers mumble a few "see ya's" and disappear up the stairs.
"At least none of this was our fault?" Peeta offers with a sad smile. Katniss takes a moment to laugh before pulling his body into hers, hugging him tight.
"I'm proud of you," she murmurs, "for standing up for us. I know… I know it's not easy."
Peeta's face buries itself in the crook of her neck. "I'm sorry," his voice comes out muffled against her skin.
Katniss pulls away slowly, meeting his gaze with nervous eyes. "Peeta… I know tonight was a disaster. But I want you to know that this doesn't change anything for me if it doesn't for you."
Peeta gives her a shaky laugh, and her heart soars.
"I'm in it for the long haul with you, Katniss."
Notes:
Thank you to @firehelpmeforget for letting me borrow another one of her Victor, Mentor, Mockingjay OCs, Kai Murray.
I decided I want to write one last part of this saga, so stay tuned for the finale!
Pages Navigation
electrictouchfob on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Nov 2025 03:32AM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 03:11AM UTC
Comment Actions
electrictouchfob on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Nov 2025 03:33AM UTC
Comment Actions
mage_chocolate on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Nov 2025 03:34AM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 03:11AM UTC
Comment Actions
firehelpmeforget on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Nov 2025 05:20AM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 03:11AM UTC
Comment Actions
Mollywog on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Nov 2025 05:44AM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 03:12AM UTC
Comment Actions
pinwheelwhirl on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Nov 2025 11:15AM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 03:13AM UTC
Comment Actions
CordeliaDelamare on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Nov 2025 07:30PM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 03:14AM UTC
Comment Actions
peaonfire on Chapter 1 Thu 27 Nov 2025 08:31PM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 03:15AM UTC
Comment Actions
oh_so_loverly on Chapter 1 Fri 28 Nov 2025 12:00AM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 03:15AM UTC
Comment Actions
distractionsfromthefood on Chapter 1 Fri 28 Nov 2025 02:22AM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 03:17AM UTC
Comment Actions
theslayslayer on Chapter 1 Fri 28 Nov 2025 10:21AM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 03:17AM UTC
Comment Actions
thesunpersists on Chapter 1 Fri 28 Nov 2025 03:00PM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 03:18AM UTC
Comment Actions
electrictouchfob on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 01:07AM UTC
Last Edited Thu 11 Dec 2025 01:07AM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 03:18AM UTC
Comment Actions
emmybelle2 on Chapter 1 Thu 11 Dec 2025 05:13AM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 1 Fri 12 Dec 2025 03:37AM UTC
Comment Actions
emmybelle2 on Chapter 1 Fri 12 Dec 2025 04:31AM UTC
Comment Actions
MrsCheekyMoose on Chapter 2 Fri 28 Nov 2025 08:46AM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 2 Fri 12 Dec 2025 03:38AM UTC
Comment Actions
electrictouchfob on Chapter 2 Fri 28 Nov 2025 09:22AM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 2 Fri 12 Dec 2025 03:39AM UTC
Last Edited Fri 12 Dec 2025 03:43AM UTC
Comment Actions
AnnoyingVegan on Chapter 2 Fri 28 Nov 2025 09:33AM UTC
Comment Actions
PrincessPuffles on Chapter 2 Fri 12 Dec 2025 03:43AM UTC
Comment Actions
peaonfire on Chapter 2 Fri 28 Nov 2025 10:34AM UTC
Comment Actions
firehelpmeforget on Chapter 2 Fri 28 Nov 2025 12:07PM UTC
Comment Actions
pinwheelwhirl on Chapter 2 Fri 28 Nov 2025 01:33PM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation