Mockingjay's Redemption (Book Two in the Mockingjay's Daughter Series)

Chapter Two

Chapter Two:

The smell of burning bread drifts into my room. I spring out of my bed, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Skylar is standing in front of the oven. In one hand he’s waving a towel around, in the other holding a burnt loaf of bread. Mother and Father run into the kitchen behind me.

            “What are you doing?” I ask.

            Skylar jumps and looks at us startled. “I wanted to make you guys breakfast.”

            He smiles sheepishly.

            I’m the first one to crack. A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth and the next moment I’m laughing. Gut wrenching laughter. Next, Father begins to chuckle. Then Mother, who holds her stomach as she snickers.

            “Oh, yeah,” Skylar says, “Real nice, guys. Laugh at the nice boy making his family breakfast.”

            “I think you mean trying to make us breakfast,” I say and walk over to Skylar. “What did you do? Forget it was in the oven?”

            By the look on my brother’s face, I know I’m right.

            Father walks to the mess Skylar has made on the counter. A bag of flour is all over the counter and the floor. Miscellaneous measuring cups are spread out over the kitchen.

            “Skylar, why don’t you go clean up and I’ll finish making breakfast?” Father says. “Ivy, go invite Haymitch.”

            “Okay.”

            I walk over to the front door, pull on a pair of boots and a jacket and walk over to Haymitch’s house. I knock on his door and wait for a moment.

            No answer.

            I open the door and step inside. His house is mostly clean, courtesy of Hazelle. A pair of socks are laying in the middle of the hallway.

            “Haymitch?” I say, picking up the socks. Still no answer. I walk into the kitchen and hear a noise.

            “Haymitch?”

            He’s sitting at the kitchen table, laying in a puddle of alcohol, snoring. I snicker at the sight.

            I poke him in the arm. “Haymitch? Do you want breakfast?”

            He opens one eye, looks at me, and closes his eye again. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

            “Breakfast? My house?”

            “What’s Peeta making?”

            “I don’t know. Something good.”

            He sits up and says, “Sounds good, sweetheart. I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

            I nod and walk back to my house. Father is in the kitchen making something delicious. Mother is sitting at the table polishing her bow. I hear the shower running upstairs. Skylar must be getting ready. I join Mother at the table. I’ve been meaning to talk to her about Skylar and the Games for a while, but haven’t gotten around to it.

            “Mother? Can we talk?”

            She looks up at me, startled. “What about?”

            I glance at the stairs. “Uh, could we go outside?”

             Mother studies my face for a moment and nods. “Peeta, we’ll be right back.”

            Father shoots Mother a knowing glance and smiles at us. “Pancakes will be ready soon, ladies.”

            “Okay,” I say and follow Mother outside.

         She sits down on the grass and I do too. “What is it, Ivy?”

            “Skylar and the Games… I just have a feeling this year… That he’ll be picked.”

            “Oh, Ivy,” Mother says, frowning slightly. “We already have a plan in place.”

            “Really? What is it?”

            “I’ll tell you another day. When we’re in the woods,” She tells me. “You don’t have to worry about it, honey.”

            “But the reaping is in two days! I do have to worry about it!”

            “This is a good plan, Ivy. It won’t fail. If one of you gets picked again, we’ll get you back. I promise.”

            “Okay,” I say. “Okay.”

            She pulls herself up and offers her hand to me. I take it and we walk back in for breakfast.

       

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