Epilogue

       I turned over in bed, brown curly hair falling over my face, tickling my nose. I sneezed, and then blew on the hair so it could move. I heard a chuckle. Naturally Ewan would find me amusing.

            “You think it’s funny?” I mumbled, eyes still closed. “You try having long hair in your face.”

            “That’s why I keep my hair cut,” he retorted lightly. I felt his hand rub my arm. I smiled a non-toothy smile. “You remember what today is?”

            “One of the kids’ birthdays?” I started panicking. I was sure I couldn’t forget their birthdays. What kind of a mother would I be?

            “No, no,” he said gently. “We’re having everybody over, remember?”

            “Oh, right. Why again?”

            “Just a regular get together. Besides, it’s been a while since the kids have seen their cousins.”

            “Right.”

            I crawled over to settle into Ewan’s arms. I sighed in content as he rubbed my back. It wasn’t hard to imagine that Ewan and I eventually got together, married, and had children. It had taken a while for our relationship to blossom, though. I always knew the reason we came together was because of Daniel.

Ewan and I had dated for four years before he proposed. Those four years were not smooth. They had their rocky periods, but we got through them. The wedding wasn’t too long after the engagement, and the same went for our first child’s birth—our healthy baby boy was born two years later, followed by his little sister three years after him. We stopped after two children, because two were quite a handful. No wonder we always asked Johanna, Dad, or sometimes even Ria—now Troy’s wife—to babysit.

 I had to enjoy being in Ewan’s arms while I could, because I knew the children would stir soon, and once they were awake, they’d run right into the bedroom and jump on the bed, all hyper. If only I had that kind of energy.

            “Did my dad ever come in last night?” I mumbled. “I keep telling him that he can stay over if he needs to. I hate it when he’s home alone. I don’t care if it’s been a while, I still worry about him.”

            “I didn’t hear anything,” Ewan reported.

            Ever since I came back to 7 all those years ago, my family had stayed all under one roof. Troy stayed with us, but not very long. The moment he proposed to Ria he was gone and out. Once Ewan came into my life and was going to stay with me forever, Dad figured he would be a bother and decided to go back to the old house. Even after Ewan and I insisted that he wouldn’t bother us, Dad still left. He still came to visit, which was good for him. At least he didn’t lock himself up in the house like I worried that he would.

            Ewan’s thumb brushed over my scarred left shoulder. I remembered still to this day how I got that scar. Some things are impossible to forget—and my experiences in the 95th Hunger Games were a few of them.

            “Get up, get up!” piped a high voice. I groaned, burying myself into Ewan even more. So it began.

            “Don’t be lazy, get up!” crowed the other voice. As much as I loved our children, they clearly hadn’t mastered the concept of sleeping in and not disturbing their parents. They were still kind of young, so they got off the hook…for now.

            They both clambered onto the bed and pounced on me rather than Ewan. I felt two sets of hands try and shake me awake while one kept trying to climb over me and lodge between me and Ewan.

            “Alright, alright, we’re up,” I grumbled, yawning. “We’re up.”

            “Finally!”

            I opened my sleepy eyes only to peer up at Ewan. I sighed. He rolled his eyes playfully and gave me a sweet kiss.

            “Ew!” the kids chirped. I giggled. Oh how young they still were.

            “Just wait until you’re older,” I sang. “You won’t think it’s so gross.”

            “Yeah right, Mommy,” chirped our boy. “We’ll never go doing that sort of thing, will we, sis?”

            “Nope,” chirped his sister.

            “Come here!” I growled playfully.

            Our little girl tried to climb over Ewan as her brother wasn’t so fortunate. I grabbed him and tickled him. I could feel an occasional hit to my knee.

            “S-stop, please!” he pleaded. It was hard for him to sound convincing since he was laughing so hard. His blob of brown hair moved about, his blue-gray eyes pleaded me to stop.

            “You aren’t getting away either, little girl!” Ewan called as he grabbed our daughter.

            Her laugh was high and shrill, her dark hair whipping around. She tried to shove Ewan off, but she was no match for her father.

            We finally stopped the tickling fight. Our children caught their breath.

            “What are we doing today?” asked our boy.

            “We’re having another get together,” I crooned as I ran my fingers through his hair.

            “Aunt Ria and Uncle Troy are coming?” squeaked our little girl. “And so are Sasha, Rebecca, and Byron?”

            “Of course, the same goes for your grandpa, too.”

            “What about Aunt Johanna?”

            Okay, technically Johanna wasn’t related to us, but she had a habit of popping in now and again. For someone who I suspected to be nothing but cold and heartless when I had first met her, the moment Johanna saw my children; she’d instantly melted and became warm to them. My children changed her; it was like she was a different person. If anything, Jo was less cold to others now.

            Dan’s name still made my heart twinge painfully in my chest. The only reason it didn’t hurt was because it was our boy’s name, Daniel Christian Kinsley. I thought of the idea from the moment Daniel had been lost to the world. Okay, I didn’t think of it right off the bat, but it was kind of a no brainer. The only way to really know which Dan we talked about was that we called our boy Danny instead of Dan. Ewan’s brother always hated that nickname.

            “Without a doubt she’ll stop by,” I noted. “I doubt she’d miss any chance of seeing you two.”

            “I love her!” Danny squeaked. “I love it when she babysits us.”

            “I personally like it when Aunt Ria brings Sasha, Rebecca, and Byron!” Penny chirped. Penny loved her cousins to death, especially the girls. Even though she was closer to Byron’s age, she acted like she was older when Rebecca and Sasha were around.

            “We can argue about who’s the better babysitter later,” I told them both. I sat up. “Now, how about you two let us get out of bed? It’s your father’s turn to cook breakfast.”

            “Since when?” Ewan asked, giving me a questioning look.

            “Since I said so.” I grinned.

Ewan pouted but slipped out of bed, Penny in tow behind him. She was a daddy’s girl, just like Danny was a momma’s boy. Danny ran along as I sauntered into the bathroom, showering. I hummed a random tune while the hot water poured over me.

            I came out of the bathroom ten minutes later wrapped in a towel. I went to the dresser, digging out something to wear. All the while, I could hear commotion down the hall and in the kitchen.

            “No, Penny, it’s not nice to throw flour at your brother!” Ewan barked. A little nervous about what the kitchen looked like, I grabbed the first things I felt and threw them on me. I was jumping to get my pants on as I sprinted down the hall into the living room. I made a left to find the kitchen floor powdered in flour, as was Danny’s head and face.

            I stood in the mouth of the kitchen entrance, folding my arms over my chest. Penny met my eyes and immediately looked away.

            “Penny,” I said calmly. I walked to Danny, wiping the flour off his face and trying to ruffle it out of his brown hair. “Why would you throw flour? You know better.”

            “Mommy, Danny tried to throw eggs at me!” she whined, pointing at behind her. Indeed, there were three smashed eggs behind her, yolk, shell and all.

I sighed quietly. It was a lot better when Penny and Danny had been much younger, they didn’t even think about throwing food. Ewan and I never taught them how to throw food; they somehow developed that bad habit on their own.

            Ewan stole a glance over his shoulder at the situation, and then concentrated on breakfast, trying not to get involved.

            “I don’t care who started it, it’s not going to happen again,” I said. “Now, Danny, go wash out your hair. Penny, you’re going to help me clean up these eggs.”

            “But he threw them!” Penny whined.

            “I don’t care.”

            Penny pouted but didn’t throw a tantrum. While Danny scurried off to rinse his hair out, Penny helped me pick up the smashed eggs off the kitchen floor. By the time everything was fine again, breakfast was ready.

*       *       *

            For most of the day, Ewan and I were constantly watching the kids. Danny and Penny thought it would be fun to play a game of Tag, running around the house like wild children. At times, we got involved to keep an eye on them. I had to grab Penny for jumping on our bed—she nearly fell off it. Danny nearly took himself out with the door while trying to escape his bedroom. Honestly, Danny was acting as young as Penny was. You wouldn’t think he was seven.

            When Penny’s naptime finally came about, I told Danny to go take one as well. He thought the idea was stupid, telling a seven-year-old to go take a nap. Apparently he thought he was “too old” for them. Nobody was too old for naps, Ewan and I took those all the time every chance we got when those two were younger.

            The naps didn’t last too long though, because once Dad came over, it was like he was the children’s alarm clock. All I could hear was “Grandpa! Grandpa!” and feet thumping down the hall. Dad would always lift Penny up and always attempt to give Danny a noogie.

            The children weren’t as wild as I expected them to be from being recharged by a nap. They were pretty tame. Penny liked to be on my dad’s lap, poking at him playfully. He always poked and tickled her back. Danny would get the bright idea to join in, and then it’d be two on one.

            Ewan and I sat on the opposite couch from where my dad sat. The sun was starting to set through the windows.

            “Have you been out much lately, Dad?” I asked him.

            “What do you mean by that?” he asked back, holding a squirming Penny. Danny was sprawled out on the couch, his feet on my dad’s lap.

            “I mean, like, out socializing besides us.”

            “Not really.”

            “So you haven’t been meeting anybody new at all?” I frowned.

            “No.”

            “Why not? And don’t say it’s because your busy,” I added quickly when he opened his mouth.  

            “I know you want me to be happy, Bri, but I am right now.”

            “But wouldn’t it be nice to find someone out there who you could be even happier with?” I pressed cautiously. It was a very touchy area to go into since Dad always felt that Mom was the only woman he was convinced he’d ever love. I was convinced of it, too, but I would be just as happy to see him find another girlfriend—or possibly another wife, just so long as she wasn’t a tyrant.

            The door burst open, grabbing our attention. Troy, Ria, and the kids were here. Rebecca, Sasha, and Byron were all set loose, tackling Dad and then rushing over to me and Ewan.

            “Aunt Bridget, you said we’d have a story night!” Sasha piped, her red hair bobbing excitedly.

            “I didn’t,” I said carefully. “Who told you that I said that?”

            “Daddy did!” Rebecca piped. “He said you had a bunch of stories to tell!”

            “Did he now?” I eyed my brother suspiciously. Troy gave a sheepishly smile, fiddling with Ria’s hand to distract him from his obvious embarrassment. “Did he tell you what stories I could tell you?”

            “Oh yeah!” Byron piped, jumping onto the couch and sitting on Ewan’s lap. “There was one about how you saved two girls’ lives, and—and how you were lost in the woods and battled evil animals and found your way out!”

            “Hmm, I think your daddy exaggerates a little too much,” I said.

            “He has,” Ria sighed, tossing her red hair out of her brown eyes. Rebecca and Sasha looked so much like their mother, just like Byron was the spitting image of Troy. No lie. I remembered seeing picture of Troy when he was younger—he looked like Byron did now at the age of five.

            “Is Aunt Johanna coming?” Danny asked me.

            “You know I’d never miss a chance to see you,” Jo sang. I hadn’t even heard her make her presence known.

Danny leapt off the couch and hugged her, so did Penny. Sasha and Rebecca’s eyes lit up at the sight of Jo. Byron scrambled onto my lap. He was the only one who was still wary of Jo being around him.

            Johanna had gotten herself a new wig, it still had dark hair but it was now down past her shoulders. It was a good change for her. She sat down on the floor, as did Troy—he sat at Ria’s feet (she joined my dad on the couch). Penny curled into my dad, and Sasha and Rebecca sat at my feet. Sometimes they acted as if they were my children.

            “Can we have story time now?” Byron pleaded, looking at me with Troy’s green eyes.

 I gave a tired grin. “I don’t know, Byron, what your daddy has told you is just a light version of the real story he means,” I said.

            “Aunt Bridget, what’s with these on your face?” He touched my right cheek.

            “Those are scars,” Ewan told him. Byron looked at his uncle, confused.

            “Where did you get those from?” Sasha asked, her and her twin sister looking up at me. It seemed all the children’s attention was set on me.

            I looked from my dad to Ewan, trying to get an opinion on what I should tell the children. I looked to Troy and Ria.

            “How opposed are you about me telling them the truth?” I asked quietly.

            “Not much, just keep a lot of violence out of it,” Ria said.

            “But violence is the best part!” Danny whined.

            “Danny, in the times when your mother was younger, violence was to a lot of people,” Jo said darkly.

            “Why?” Rebecca asked.

            “I’ll begin the story.” Everybody went silent, all eyes on Johanna.

Johanna dived into the background of the Hunger Games, explaining the basics to the children so they could understand it. She also dived into her past. Then she went on to say how a new president put a limit on the Games.

            “Where does Mommy come into this?” Penny chirped.

            “I’m getting there, Pen. Twelve years ago, the last ever Hunger Games was held. Your mother”—she looked at Danny and Penny—“was chosen.” All the children’s mouths dropped. Johanna nodded. “Yes, and your uncle was as well—”

            “Uncle Troy was?” Danny asked.

            Johanna looked at me and Ewan. “You never told them about Daniel?”

            “Very little,” Ewan muttered.

            “All I know about him is that I was named after him,” Danny explained.

            “Well, your uncle was picked for the Games too,” Jo rambled on. She then proceeded to tell the children about her connection to Daniel and me

            “Can I take over?” I interjected. Jo bobbed her head.

I took over in telling about how you left your district once reaped, how you went to the Capitol to be dressed up and shown off like show animals. I went on about the Training Center and the pre-Games interviews. I kept the majority of the Games itself out of the story for the sake of the children.

            “But how did you get these scars?” Byron pressed.

            “They aren’t the only ones I got.” I pulled down my shirt to expose my shoulder. Byron brushed his fingers along my scarred shoulder. “Your father was right when he said I had to fight off evil animals, Byron.”

            “We’ve never seen those before!” Danny said. “We’ve always seen those on your face.”

            “How did our uncle die?” Sasha asked.

            “Sasha!” Ria scolded her. Sasha shrank at her mother’s tone. “I’m sure your aunt doesn’t want to talk about it, and I bet your uncle doesn’t either.”

            “No, it’s okay,” I said calmly. “It doesn’t hurt for her to be curious. Well, your uncle Daniel was a brave man. We had run by a hidden mine in a mountain when running from other people, it exploded. He suffered from severe burns.”

            “But what about Daddy’s story about you saving two girls’ lives?” Byron pestered me.

            “Normally in the Hunger Games, only one person was allowed to live. Somehow, two other girls and I became friends, and we managed to come out alive all together.”

            “You’re a hero, then,” Rebecca piped. “You saved lives.”

            “That was by luck.” I couldn’t dare tell my nieces, nephew, son, and daughter that I had committed murder. Maybe when they were older and could handle it, I’d tell them.

            “Our mommy is a hero!” Penny exclaimed. “Wow! I have a question, too! How did you and Daddy fall in love?”

            Ewan and I looked at each other. We went from one extreme to the next. Well, at least she didn’t probe as to how she and Danny came into the world.

            “Well, sweetie,” Ewan said, slipping an arm around me, “your uncle Daniel brought us together, in a way. Your mother and I needed each other since we needed to cope. We were best friends as it was, so eventually things became more serious.” Ewan looked into my eyes. “I’ve never regretted a day of my life that involved falling in love with your mother.”

            “And I never hated a day when you were with me,” I said sheepishly. Ewan kissed me quickly, all the children made disgusted faces. The adults all laughed.

            For the rest of the time, the kids looked to Johanna for her Hunger Games experiences. Jo kept it clean for the most part, though she did try to cross the line a few times. Byron fell asleep on my lap so I cradled him in my arms. Danny, Sasha, and Rebecca were gathered in a circle with Jo as she animatedly told her story. Penny was barely staying awake, trying to listen to Johanna. Her eyes would almost close, and then she’d wake herself up again. It didn’t take long for Penny to clock out against my father.

            It was getting considerably late when everybody had to depart. Ria took Byron from me, Rebecca and Sasha rose tiredly, pleading to stay just a little bit longer because Johanna wasn’t finished (she had gotten into her stories about being part of the attempted rebellion against the Capitol that had failed, sort of). Dad decided to take off too, so he left with Troy, Ria, and the kids. Johanna got ready to leave twenty minutes later. Ewan escorted Danny to bed while I joined Jo at the door. Crickets chirped outside in 7.

            “Have you heard from anybody lately? I haven’t,” I said, leaning against the doorframe.  

            “Only from Jade. She’s doing well.” She’d eventually moved out of Johanna’s place back to the Capitol.

            “How come she never calls me?”

            “She probably thinks you’re too busy being a stay-at-home mom.” Johanna shrugged. “I’m just surprised she hasn’t come down to see the kids yet. She’s been asking me how they’ve been. I bet we’ll hear from the newlyweds soon, they’re way overdue.”

            It was obvious Alden and Harper were trying to drop off the face of the earth. Or they could simply be adjusting to their married life, so they wouldn’t even think about us. They couldn’t exactly forget about us though, with our pasts.

            “Jo, they’ve been married two years.”

            “They’re still newly married in my eyes. They shouldn’t really be newlyweds, considering it felt like they were married for twelve years instead of two.” Alden and Harper had dated for a decade before deciding to marry.

            “You should try to find a guy, you know. You aren’t getting any younger.” I laughed.

            “Eh, I think I might just fly solo, like I always have.” Johanna shrugged.

            “Hey, if marriage can work for Alden and Harper, and for me, I’m sure it could work for you. Try it, you might like it.” I grinned. “Then you can really have kids of your own instead of stealing mine.”

            “Your kids adore me,” Jo chuckled. “I’m their favorite aunt.”

            “Ha, I don’t know—whenever Alden and Harper decide to make a trip down here, or Jade, you might have competition.”

            “That’s whenever they come,” she retorted lightly. She looked over her shoulder out into the night. “I better let you and your hubby deal with the kids and get to bed yourselves.”

            “It’s always good to see you.”

            I shut the door once Johanna started to head for her home which wasn’t that far away. Penny was out on the couch, so I scooped her up, took her to her bedroom, changed her, and tucked her into bed. Her little eyes opened, she yawned. I smiled down at her.

            “I never knew you were so brave,” she whispered tiredly. I knelt down by her bedside, brushing her hair away from her face.

            “Believe me, Penny, I didn’t know I was either,” I confessed. “Now, go to sleep.”

            “I love you, Mommy.”

            “I love you, too, sweetie.” I kissed her forehead as she settled down. I rose and looked down at my daughter as she fell asleep.

            “I was going to take care of her,” Ewan whispered in my ear, slinking his arms around me.

            “Danny’s out?” I asked.

            “Yup. I think it’s time we headed to bed, too.”

            “I’m all wiped out from storytelling.”

            Ewan and I walked to our bedroom, got changed and slid into bed, me in his arms.

            “I think I could get used to telling that story,” I mumbled into his bare chest.

            “You never really talked about your experiences in the arena,” he noted.

            “People saw what I went through. And they got a bit out of me at the post-Games interview, remember? But if you think I haven’t spoken about everything, maybe someday if I ever feel up to it, I’ll tell you.”

            “Will you remember everything?” He chuckled.

            “I have no doubt I will. If you watched every moment of the Games, then I bet you saw most of everything I went through in that arena.”

            “It’s a shame I never got to meet Sutton or Seraphine.”

            “I guess our bond wasn’t as strong as it looked.” Once the Victory Tour was done, we all sort of went our separate ways. We never kept in touch, which was a shame. I kind of wanted to stay friends with them. Oh well. “Maybe there’s still hope for a reunion in the future.”

            I kind of did wonder about them though, how their lives were faring.

            At the tender age of 16, my future had been up in the air. I wasn’t sure then if I was going to live to see 17, let alone 20. But now, at age 28, my future looked pretty bright. No more Hunger Games. No more violence. No more losing children to the Capitol.

Life couldn’t be better.