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Where The Peaches Grow (Everlark AU)

Chapter 3 is up! Hope y’all like it! It will be up on AO3 later tonight. You can find chapter 1 HERE and chapter 2 HERE.

The ride to the Mellark Ranch is a quiet but pleasant one. I hang my feet out the window again and listen to the world whizzing by as Peeta drives through the back roads. We didn’t tell anyone we were coming, we didn’t plan an itinerary, and we certainly didn’t make any attempt to haste being anywhere on time. Soon, the trees begin to look familiar, spaced out mailboxes remind me of summers past, and the tires from the truck are kickin’ up dust. Leaning against the window, I eagerly look for the numbers 1204 plastered on an old white mailbox with the work ‘Mellark’ painted on the side. I grin when my eyes catch it and Peeta takes a right onto the mile-long driveway up to house. When it comes into view, I am suddenly hit with a thousand memories of the years passed when a family who didn’t have a daughter lovingly accepted me as their own. After Peeta puts the car in park, I slip on my heels and shove open the door, eager to hug my family. I don’t want to give Peeta the satisfaction of saying ‘I told you so’, so I make a point to slow it down and toss in a bit of an attitude on the side.

“C’mon. I know you’re hungry and faking an attitude so I won’t call you out on loving that your home.”

How does he do that?

I roll my eyes at him but nonetheless follow him up the front porch steps and knock on the wood-framed screen door.

“Richard! Could ya get that please? I am knee-deep in blueberry pie!”

I stifle a laugh as Mamma Mellark’s voice can be clearly heard from the kitchen. Her southern twang is sweeter than Tupelo honey, but don’t let it fool you because she is quick as a whip.

Mr. Mellark’s footsteps can be heard coming from the living room all the way to front door. He swings it open and his eyes grow as wide as teacup saucers.

“Well I’ll be damn! Meredith! The kids are home!” He shouts.

“Richard, be more specific! We have four kids and three grandchildren. How much company are ya sayin’?” She shouts back.

“Hey Mamma!” I shout as we step inside and are engulfed in the signature Mellark family hug. I hear a dish shatter and hasty footsteps as Mama comes rushing into the entryway.

“Oh my Lord, have mercy!” She squeals with tears in her eyes. She doesn’t hesitate to pull me into her tight embrace and squeeze the living daylights out of me. However, I can’t object because I am squeezing her just as tightly. I close my eyes and flashback to the first time I met Mamma Mellark and I am filled with a sense of belonging as the memory plays through my mind.

“Peeta, they don’t even know who I am.” I say nervously.

He rolls his eyes, “Sure they do. They know all about you. I told them that you didn’t have a place to go for Christmas break and Mamma fussed at me for whole five minutes ‘bout bringin’ you back with me. Threatened me too if I do recall.”

His thick, southern accent is in the top five of his most attractive features and I melt every time he speaks. Surprisingly, I have picked up on it a little.

“I don’t wanna be an inconvenience.” I mutter.

His large, rough hand covers mine, “You are welcome in this home. I promise.”

Peeta had just taken me by the most beautiful frozen pond I had ever seen. Ice cycles hung from the branches above the clearing, snow fallen fresh on the ground and mist rising from where the sun beat on the frozen-solid pond. It was breathtaking.

We pull onto a long dirt road that is marked with a plain white mailbox with ‘Mellark’ written on the side. After about a minute of driving, the wonder of how long this driveway is gets to me. Then it hits me, his family owns half the town and I am just some poor girl from Pennsylvania who grew up in a shotgun house and no wealth whatsoever. Mellark was plastered all over the place and it should have been more clear as soon as we crossed into town. Peeta is reading my face and knows exactly what I am thinking right away.

“This doesn’t change anything, Katniss.” He said seriously. “We aren’t those type of people.”

“Then who are you?”

We pull up to a beautiful two-story ranch style home with a wrap around porch, a clothesline on the left and large green tractor on the right. The driveway continues to fork to the right to what I assume leads to the barn but Peeta parks it right up front.

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” He beams. His smile comforts me and I mentally pull myself together as he helps me out of the cab of his 1978 Ford 250. He pulls the bags from the bed and we begin inside but are met by his mother before we make the front porch steps.

“Oh my lanta! Richard, they’re here!” A small woman with dark hair like mine emerges from the screen door and is rushing down towards us.

“Hey Mamma.” Peeta smiles leaning towards his mother for a hug.

“Oh hush boy, I saw you two weeks ago. Let me hug this one right here.” She playfully waves him off and snatches me into her arms, hugging me tightly.

“Hi.” I breathe with the air that hasn’t been knocked from my lungs.

She pulls back, “Hello sweetheart! Oh we are so glad you came! C’mon in you two and I’ll make you some lunch! It is freezin’ out here. Peeta Warner Mellark I cannot believe you brought this poor girl all the way home from Virginia Tech in that rusty ole’ truck. Your father and you are gonna fix it up before you leave.”

“Yes ma’am.” He laughs.

Mrs. Mellark grabs my hand and pulls me up the stairs and inside. A large, broad shouldered man stands in the foyer with a large smile on his face.

“Well I’ll be damned! Boy, she’s prettier in person!” He holds out his arms and engulfs me in the biggest hug I have ever had. It must be the Mellark family hug Peeta was telling me about.

Who are these people?

“Knock if off old man, you’re gonna freak the poor girl out.” A voice says from behind him. I look around to see a young man who looks to be around our age. He is a spitting image of Peeta but with a few defining other features.

“Hi, Rye Mellark at your service. Any and all services for that matter.” He winks at me while extending his hand. It happened before I could even blink. Peeta walks past Rye and dead arms him without even breaking stride, causing Rye to double over holding his arm with the opposite hand.

“Great to see you too you blonde-hair bastard!” He says with a mischievous smile. Peeta shrugs, winks at me, drops the bags at the bottom of the stairs and heads in the kitchen.

“Watch yourself in front of a lady.” Mrs. Mellark scolds. The boys snicker in response. She rolls her eyes and turns her attention back onto me as Mr. Mellark takes my coat, “Ok darlin’, what would you like on your sandwich?”

Trying to be polite as possible (and so they don’t feel obligated to feed me right away) I say, “Oh, that’s alright Mrs. Mellark. I’m not hungry right now, but thank you anyways.” Which was a total lie because I was starving.

Being the Benedict Arnold that he is, Peeta pokes his head out from the kitchen and with a face full of sandwich says, “Spicy mayo, turkey, tomatoes, avocado, and lettuce.”

“Right then.” Mrs. Mellark beams. “Welcome home, Katniss. I’m makin’ blueberry pie too so save some room dear. Oh and one more thing,” she pauses, “You best call me Mamma.”

I stand there for a moment in complete awe. Never in my life have I felt so warm, loved, and welcomed.

She pulls back and cups my cheeks in her hands, “What on earth are you two doin’ here? Oh sweetheart you are skin and bones. C’mon now, I’ll come make some sandwiches.” She rambles. She hugs Peeta tightly and kisses him on the cheek before quickly disappearing back into the kitchen.

“Not even home for five minutes and she’s already cookin’.” Peeta laughs.

I turn to him and smile, “You’re doin’ it.” Then I cover my mouth just as quickly as the words came out.

He laughs again and looks at me pointedly, “So are you. But this time it only took two hours before the accent came back.”

“What a surprise! Boy, where are the bags?” Papa Mellark asks.

“In the bed, old man!” Peeta teases.

“Aye, watch yourself boy. Y’all go freshen up and come back downstairs for lunch. Meredith, call the family. Our babies are home!”

“Richard, hush! What do you think I’m doin’?”

He laughs heartily and turns to go get the bags from the truck, “Papa, let me help you with that.” I offer.

He looks at me and chuckles, “In those shoes, girl? Ha! I don’t think so. You’d brake an ankle so fast and we got skeet shootin’ to do so let me welcome you home and carry y’alls bags in.”

I smile at his hospitality. Most people would think he is undermining my ability to walk in heels when in actuality he is looking out for me. Also reminding me of the time when I last came home and sprained my ankle walking down the front porch steps in heels like these.

I turn towards the stairs and see Peeta pushing down a laugh, “What?”

“I told you not to wear heels.”

I swat him and follow him upstairs to our bedrooms. Peeta and I have had bedrooms directly across from each other since the first Christmas I spent here. Literally, I have my own room. When we came home for the summer, Mamma Mellark and I spent a week painting, decorating, and accessorizing this room to my exact liking. She dragged me kicking and screaming because guilt had consumed me with the mindset of ‘why do these people care so much about me?’ and I never had something so nice before. To this day she reminds me it was like pulling teeth to even remotely hint to her what I liked. Little did I know Peeta was behind the scenes giving her tips about what makes me smile and what makes me cringe.

I grasp the crystal door handle and push the door open; a smile spreads across my face to see that nothing has been changed or moved. Not that I would have minded if it had, it just means they are always expecting me to come home and would rather keep it perfectly clean. Peeta and Papa help bring the luggage up all the while Peeta makes a point to mention that I have too many bags with too much crap in each. In reality I brought three bags: a large one for all of my clothes, a small carryon with my shoes and toiletries, and one with work files. As I begin the process of unpacking, I am suddenly hit with another flashback…

“Jeez, Peeta. Where did you find her?” Rye asks, shock clearly written in his voice.

I look at Peeta out of the corner of my eye and see him smile at the ground, his cheeks filling full of red, “I think it was her who found me.”

“Pull!” I shout.

The clay pigeon suddenly appears and it takes less than a second for me to shoot it out of the sky. I can see my breath on the frosty air as I sigh a breath of satisfaction – great first impression.

Rye laughs in disbelief, “Unbelievable! She hasn’t even missed one!”

“Is that a big deal?” I ask with mock innocence.

“That depends.” Barrett says, “Pull!”

He raises his gun and shoots the target. If I had blinked, I would have missed the entire swift motion.

“On what?” I ask.

He pauses to reload his shotgun then smiles at me, “On who’s record you’re breaking.”

Within ten minutes, I am downstairs in my favorite pair of jeans, a white gauzy blouse and black flats. My hair is still in its tight bun from this morning; I decide to leave it that way for the time being. It’s early spring and the weather up here in the mountains is still cool and fresh. Almost like breathing real air for the first time.

I hop up on the barstool next to Peeta as he is already finishing his second sandwich. I feel a twinge of excitement and a sense of peace as it seems though nothing has changed. As if we never moved out to Seattle, as if we have been here every day for our entire lives, and as if I am actually married into the Mellark family.

However, I my replacement might be coming sooner than I think – and from accounting for all that matters.

Peeta cocks and eyebrow at me, “Is that what you are wearing for the day?”

“Your point being?”

He shrugs, “I thought you might be comfortable in something else.”

“What’s wrong with what I have on?’

He swallows, “You look like you’re goin’ to one of those casual lunch meetings with

Mamma Mellark sets a plate in front of me along with a large glass of sweet tea with and a lemon on the rim. She knows me all too well. She made a turkey sandwich with spicy mayo, tomatoes, avocado, and lettuce just like Peeta had told her. She winks at me as she dries her hands on her apron.

“So what on earth are you two doin’ here? I wish y’all had called when you got the airport. I would have had more time to go to the store and get food.” She playfully scolds as she pours the blueberry pie mix into the crusted pan.

Peeta wipes his mouth with a napkin, “I’m sorry, Mamma. We didn’t decided to come until late last night and hopped on the first flight out to Atlanta this mornin’.”

“Well, no matter. I’m just so happy to see y’all here. Don’t you have that big merger comin’ up though?” She asks. I lean against the counter and give Peeta the “I told you so” look.

“Why yes we do. Peeta also owes me a new phone.”

Mamma gasps, “Peeta Warner Mellark what is she talkin’ ‘bout?”

He rolls his eyes and explains that fiasco from the airport to here. I love when she gets mad because it is absolutely hilarious to see her take my side instead of his. It makes him frustrated but I secretly know he loves to see his mother and I as close as we are. He would choose to lose an argument to us every single time if it came down to it.

His mother turns to Papa who is unloading the dishwasher, “Richard, take Katniss into Atlanta tomorrow and get her one of them fancy phones. Your son acted before he thought again.”

I interject before Papa can respond, “Actually, I would rather not. I could go without using my phone the next week.”

Peeta looks at me, “Really?”

His gaze meets mine in a way that puts a fire in the pit of my stomach, “Yes. Your little trick worked and I have decided to leave all the messy work to the lawyers and Gale for the next while. I left them detailed notes and I am sure they will be just fine without us.” I acutually plan to give them a phone call and surprise Peeta with the merger by the time we get back to Seattle. I’ll use the house computer to do emails when Peeta goes on his early morning runs.

Peeta blinks then pulls me tightly against his chest nearly causing me to fall from my stool, “I am so proud of you! I’m gonna do the same thin’! No phone calls or texts for the next week. Just us and the family.” He says. The way he emphasizes “just us” warms my heart to its very core. He runs his thumb across my cheek and kisses my forehead sending a bolt of electricity through my skin.

I laugh and turn back to my sandwich. It is small things like this that make me fall in love with him on a deeper level and it makes me wonder how he feels about it me. We finish our lunch with funny stories of our twin nephews and the pranks they are beginning to pull no thanks to their mischievous father, Rye, and at the mercy of his wife Charlotte (whom we affectionately call Charlie).

Speaking of…

I hear Rye’s F150 rubble up the dirt road and pull into the driveway. Doors slam, the pitter-patter of feet trample up the front porch steps, and small squeals outside the screen door.

“You get Aunt Katniss and I’ll get uncle Peeta!” A feverous whisper comes from the entryway.

I nudge Peeta as I wipe crumbs from my mouth and he responds with a smirk. We jump from our stools and stand on either side of large doorframe to counter our nephew’s secret attack.

They creep into the doorframe and shout, “Boo!”

To their unpleasant surprise, they found two empty stools and place settings, and a smiling grandmother. Peeta and I lock eyes and grab one twin each lifting them into our arms as they screech in delight.

“Aye, I do believe I have found a stowaway Captain Mellark!” I say in pirate voice.

“Arrr, first-mate Everdeen, you are correct! And I have found yer matching one as well.” He mimics. The boys are laughing with glee as Peeta and I tighten our embrace around their childish frames.

“S’cuse me,” a deep voice from behind me asks, “when did I say it was okay to have fun without me?”

“Rye!” I squeal. I carefully set down Duke and jump into Rye’s welcoming arms.

He catches and spins me around, “Katniss it is so good to have you home! Why didn’t y’all tell us you was comin’?”

Rye’s thick, rick country accent is like music to my ears and yet I internally scold myself for not coming home sooner. Oh how I’ve missed my family.

Heavy footfall comes from behind and I laugh at the sight in front of me. Peeta has Duke on his left leg and Huck on the right, “Has me first-mate abandoned me?” He says, puffing his chest out and giving a mock disgruntled look.

Rye joins me in laughter, “Hey Peet! Lookin’ fit enough? Watcha been doin’? Join a fancy gym or somethin’?”

Peeta had in actuality joined a crossfit gym in which he bulked up making him so hard to resist. Thankfully, there are times when we go to the gym together and he has more than once placed those big, strong hands around my waist. The swelling in my heart continues as he lifts each boy over his shoulder in a fit of laughter simitaneously kissing their Mellark blond hair. He sets them down and they run off to the backyard. Seeing him interact with the twins confirms what I already know - Peeta will be an excellent father. He turns his attention to his brother and gives him a strong pat on the back. Rye asks Peeta a question that I didn’t quite catch causing him to turn the shade of a Florida tomato. He locks eyes with me and the gleam that is behind is intoxicating. And full of desire?

“Oh Rye! Stop harrassin’ him. He just got into town and doesn’t need your teasin’.” His wife Charlie scolds playfully. She turns her attention to me after handing her husband the last of the grocery bags, “Katniss! It’s ‘bout time you came on home!”

I hug her tightly, “It’s good to be home.”

“Barrett and Blakely should be here soon. They were right behind us but had to stop at the store for an extra bottle for the baby.”

Barrett is Peeta’s quiet older brother and his lively wife Blakely keeps him on his toes. They just had a baby girl named Harper, and she is the most precious little piece of adorable and it will be my first time meeting her.

“Oh my goodness.” I place my hand over my heart in excitement. Peeta places a hand on my shoulder and smiles down at me.

“Richard, did you call Haymitch and Effie?” Mamma asks coming into the living room while wiping her hands on her apron.

He nods, “Yes ma’am. They should be here in about half an hour.”

“Uncle Haymitch is comin?” I ask.

“Oh Lord…” Peeta laughs, “Hide the liquor.”

The laughter fills the room feels like a long embrace between distant friends. It feels familiar, safe and settling. I meet Peeta’s eyes from across the room and instantly get lost in them. How could I allow myself to even entertain the idea of being with Peeta? What if the worst of the worst happens and I lose him. The thought of losing Peeta completely is unbearable and I would rather have him as my best friends for the rest of my life than risk it all. However, here is where it gets complicated… he is my best friend… and I am hopelessly in love with him.

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