Maybe It Can Be Real

Chapter 69

Ending of last chapter:

A half hour later, Peeta and I are sitting at the dining room table that we never use, with china that we never use in front of us, with wine we never drink in glasses. I pick my glass up, holding it out to him. He picks his up and holds it to mine.

"Cheers," I begin, "to doing absolutely nothing with my wonderful husband."

****

"Are you comfortable?", I ask Willow, knowing she can't answer me but asking anyway. She's wrapped to my chest in one of those cross-over sling wraps. Leaning down and smirking, I kiss her head. "I'm definitely not, but I'll suffer through it just for you, baby girl." She's gotten bigger these last couple months; according to the doctor, she's perfectly healthy, but a little on the heavier side. Peeta and I are okay with that, though. We'd rather have that than her being underfed.

Willow and I are heading into town right now to pick up a little something for Peeta since it's his birthday today. I'm a bit late in doing this, but we've been doing this for around twenty years now, so he generally knows what's coming anyway. And to think, this whole tradition started because I was feeling particularly sentimental one day.

Starting a few years after we got married, every year on Peeta's birthday, I give him a present that reflects the most memorable thing about him from the last year. Sometimes they're sentimental, like when I got him a book to document important moments in our lives after we finally finished the one that remembers the fallen people from the war. We filled that one up with mediocre things that seemed important at the time, and haven't gotten a new one since. We should, though, especially since we have Willow now.

Sometimes the gifts are not sentimental at all, like when I gave him a "Help When You Need It" coupon as a joke after he shattered his prosthetic leg and couldn't get a new one for a while. That was really hard for us - he couldn't get to the bakery, so he had to work from home what little he could: taking orders. I did everything around the house from cooking to cleaning to repairs for almost two months, and I also had to help him get around the house since he refused to use a crutch or wheelchair of any sort.

I haven't decided what I'm getting him this year yet. It'll have something to do with Willow, obviously, since she's the biggest impact on our lives since his last birthday. I also can't decide if I should make it a joke or serious - I'm leaning toward a joke, though.

"What do you think?", I ask Willow, rubbing the back of her head. "What would Daddy like?" In response she readjusts her head against my chest, closing her eyes and sighing contentedly as she falls asleep.

As I walk into the general store, I realize just how different it is from what it used to be. Before, it was a black market with people scrounging what they could to make just a little money. Now, it's a much nicer place where people regularly make enough money to sustain themselves and their families.

For a few minutes, I peruse the store, looking for a present for Peeta. When I finally pick out what I want, I laugh to myself and pay the vendor, heading out the door to go back home. On the way, I pass several people and give them a small wave to say hi.

Most people have gotten over their shock at seeing me out and about doing mundane things. Not that there was much to begin with, but I would get some stares. Peeta too. Thankfully, we don't get second glances from people when we walk past them anymore other than normal waves and hellos.

Usually. But today, a man is following me with his eyes. I try to ignore him, but he's not making it easy.

Finally, when I get outside, I whirl around to face him after he follows me out the door. "Can I help you, sir?"