Maybe It Can Be Real

Chapter 73

Ending of last chapter:

Standing up, I brush his hair off his forehead and place a kiss there, then I head upstairs to shower. I set the drawing on the nightstand once I get upstairs; it looks perfect there in its new home.

I should do something for him, too. He deserves it just as much because he works just as hard as I do to care for Willow. I have no clue what he should get, though. He's too good for basically anything in this world. Too bad I can't write or draw like he can. I'll figure something out. All in due time.

****

"Please, Haymitch," I beg, dramatically tugging on his arm. "I know she's entirely and completely too much to handle, but it would mean the absolute world to me if you watched her tonight." She's by far the easiest baby in the world, but it never hurts to suck up to Haymitch.

He rolls his eyes, giving me a smirk. He knows that I know he adores watching her, but he always pretends it's such a daunting task for him to do. I think it makes him ecstatic to see me and Peeta happy, even though he would almost never admit it aloud; it was such a long and arduous journey to get here, and we could both have easily ended up dead or alone, but instead we're happily married with a sweet baby girl. We owe that happiness in large part to Haymitch since he has protected us basically ever since the first Games. I also think that he feels like a father to us and a grandfather to Willow. That makes me happy since he couldn't have his own family by blood. I feel the same way about him. "I guess I can watch her. I'm not doing anything else," he replies, stretching his arms above his head.

"Thank you," I tell him seriously. "I appreciate it. Peeta and I need some alone time, and I'm going to do something special for him, so this works out really well. Only I haven't figured out what I'm going to do for him yet." I bite my lip, glancing away. Figuring out what to do for him is on the top of my list of priorities. Maybe I should've figured out what I was doing before asking Haymitch to babysit, but it'll come to me. Hopefully.

"Well, deciding that may be a little helpful," he says sarcastically.

"Gee, thanks. I never would've figured that out." I sit there for a moment, contemplating. Peeta and I have done so many different things throughout the years that I don't really know what to do anymore. Prim would, though. She always was such a kind, loving soul. Like our father, who was a bit of a romantic himself. I'm suddenly hit with such a strong pang of sadness at the thought of my little duck that I have to leave.

Standing up, I press a kiss to Haymitch's cheek, thanking him again and walking out the door. I'm halfway to her grave before I realize that that's where my feet are taking me.

I wonder what she would be like now. She would love the world as it is now - no fear or hunger. She would be a doctor, I think. Married to the love of her life, maybe with some kids tugging on her legs. The thought makes me smile. She deserved that and more. But that thought helps remind me to appreciate what I have with Peeta and to not take it for granted like I did when we were seventeen.

God, we were so young. I felt about a million years old then, and I know Peeta did too, but we were children! Children who grew up too fast with no say in the matter. I can't imagine Willow having to go through anything like that.

When I finally reach Prim's grave, I brush off the dirt and leaves blown on it. I do the same for my father's. Then I just stand there, staring at their names, feeling the breeze tickle my face.

Being here gives me a sense of comfort. I know that there are only headstones, that there were no bodies to bury, so it shouldn't comfort me, but it does. I suppose it's because their presence is so strong within the district and the many different things that remind me of them here. Or maybe I've just tricked myself into thinking that there's actually something buried here to make myself feel better. Whatever the case, it works. I always feel better after coming here.