Hollywood Secret Garden

Chapter 46: Christmas (2)

The kitchen buzzed with activity, emanating a comforting warmth and fragrant aromas. Servants hurriedly prepared the lavish dinner, which included delectable dishes like cheese pudding and Christmas ham.

Everything that should be in the kitchen was present, and perhaps even a few things that shouldn't be.

"Alright, turn the heat down to the lowest setting and let it simmer like this for 20 minutes," her grandmother instructed, her voice filled with wisdom and experience as she tasted the soup in the pot, cradling her few-month-old granddaughter in her arms.

Although she only possessed half Chinese heritage, the grandmother exuded the essence of an Eastern woman in her appearance and demeanor. Time had left its marks on her face, yet it couldn't diminish her gentle and graceful temperament, which radiated with quiet strength.

"Grandma, are you making vegetarian soup again?" Angela stood behind her grandmother and asked in chinese.

"Yes, Xiaoyi, have your father and the others arrived?" The grandmother was pleasantly surprised to see the little girl and responded in chinese.

Although Angela felt a slight pang when her grandmother used her Chinese name, which reminded her of her gender, the little girl still smiled and replied, "We just arrived, and I came to see you on purpose, of course, with Susu too."

As she spoke, Angela made playful faces at the baby in her grandmother's arms. The previously quiet infant suddenly became animated, cooing and reaching out her hands toward Angela.

"It seems Susu still adores you. Would you like to hold her?" The grandmother switched to English and smiled.

"Can I?" The little girl blinked her eyes, trying to maintain a composed demeanor, but her eyes betrayed her undeniable longing.

Bending down, the grandmother carefully passed the baby into Angela's arms. Angela eagerly cradled Susu, showering her with playful bites on her face. Whether in her past life or the present, Angela had always adored children, particularly babies.

Their chubby and adorable appearances were simply irresistible, and engaging in playful interactions with them brought her immense joy. However, caring for children on a long-term basis was a different matter. It was more accurate to say that she relished the moments of playfulness with them.

"Grandma, I noticed that the plum blossom stakes in the garden appear to be shorter. Was that Grandpa's request?" Angela playfully asked while teasing little Susu.

"Yes, he always asks me not to continue practicing. But after so many years, how could I simply give it up? We reached a compromise in the end. I reduced the height of the plum blossom stakes within the range he allowed," the grandmother chuckled, her smile indicating a deep understanding of her husband's thoughts.

Angela shrugged, not planning to say anything more. However, at that moment, her grandmother smiled mischievously and asked, "I think you haven't continued practicing, have you?"

Choking on her saliva, the little girl coughed a few times, caught off guard by the unexpected question. She cautiously glanced at her grandmother, who continued to smile with seemingly innocent intentions. Dejectedly, she admitted, "Yes, I didn't persist."

Indeed, martial arts training proved to be incredibly challenging. She couldn't endure even the horse stance, unlike learning a musical instrument, which she found enjoyable. Initially, she had insisted on learning Wing Chun from her grandmother, driven by the martial arts aspirations she held as a male in her previous life.

However, once she started the training, she quickly realized how physically demanding and painful it could be. Despite her initial determination and mental preparation, the reality of the training surpassed her expectations. Furthermore, as a girl, she faced additional hurdles, and after a few attempts, she reluctantly had to give up.

So far, Angela had managed to memorize the Wing Chun techniques, and her execution of the routines was decent. However, she couldn't generate the necessary strength and power behind her moves. It felt as though her actions were nothing more than empty gestures.

"If you cannot persist, then there's no need to continue practicing. Learning this is not easy for girls. When you're a little older, Grandma can teach you a simplified version of Wing Chun, more suitable for self-defense," her grandmother unexpectedly concluded, leaving Angela feeling somewhat frustrated.

She was certain that her grandmother's mastery of Wing Chun surpassed that of the instructors she had encountered in her previous life. What a missed opportunity.

However, Angela had always been curious about her grandmother's journey in learning this martial art. Yet, her grandmother remained reluctant to share more details, and her family members seldom spoke about it. 

She only gathered indirect information, such as her grandmother's maiden name Li and having a close relationship with a brother residing in New York's Chinatown. Angela, having spent most of her life on the West Coast, never had the opportunity to delve deeper into these matters.

Lost in her thoughts, Angela suddenly felt a slight pain on her forehead. Mischievous Susu had playfully tugged at her hair. Angela laughed, teasingly made faces at the babbling baby, bid farewell to her grandmother still immersed in soup brewing, and carried Susu out of the kitchen.

...

Christmas Eve proved to be delightful. What could be more joyous than sharing dinner with loved ones? 

Furthermore, the most worrisome scenario didn't unfold—her father and grandfather managed to restrain themselves, exchanging minimal words. Angela found solace in this, grateful for the peaceful atmosphere that enveloped the family gathering.

However, amidst the pleasant family atmosphere, Angela couldn't shake off her own frustrations. For instance, the gift packages tucked under the Christmas tree. Or the upcoming visit to the Jewish synagogue with her grandfather and the task of distributing candies to the choir.

Concerning the gift packages, she harbored doubts about finding anything she truly desired within them. She suspected that when she woke up the following morning, Santa Claus would have filled her stocking with a Barbie doll or a teddy bear—certainly not a Transformer or a remote-controlled car.

As for the latter, the old man held devout beliefs as a Jew. However, he had an intriguing approach of not imposing his religious convictions on his wife or children, a departure from the norm within Jewish customs. Each year, after their Christmas dinner, he would extend an invitation to his wife and children to accompany him to the synagogue. 

If they declined, he accepted their decision without objection. Even Jared, Angela's father, refrained from commenting on this matter. Nevertheless, whenever Angela was in New York for Christmas, she willingly joined her grandfather. The little girl possessed a kindhearted nature and rarely refused anyone's requests.

"God is fair, Angela. He grants you blessings but also takes things away," the old man shared with her as they exited the synagogue.

"Yes, I understand," Angela nodded, indicating her comprehension. Such words echoed familiar sentiments she had encountered countless times in movies during her previous life.

"Do you enjoy making movies, Angela?" the old man asked abruptly, finding a seat on a nearby bench. He appeared a bit weary.

"Grandpa, it's quite chilly out here. Let's head back inside," the little girl suggested, eyeing the street where a heap of untouched snow had accumulated.

"No need to worry, my dear. This temperature won't deter me," the old man reassured her with a smile before posing the question once more, his tone now serious. "Angela, do you truly enjoy making movies?"

Scratching her head beneath her hat, Angela pondered her grandfather's question. She had a vague sense of what he was getting at. However, she couldn't provide a definitive answer, at least not in that moment. 

Did she enjoy making movies? Absolutely. 

But did she envision herself doing it indefinitely? 

That posed a more complex dilemma. She believed that with time and refinement, she could surpass the skills of many Hollywood actresses. However, the underlying concern remained—she would be an actress.

Regardless of the setting, women always faced more scrutiny and challenges. There were unavoidable issues tied to that path. Yet, the thought of giving up without a fight left her feeling reluctant and dissatisfied.

"Dear Grandfather, I'm afraid I can't give you a definitive answer at this moment. I believe I still need some time," Angela sighed and took a seat beside her grandfather. "I just finished writing another script and submitted it to Warner Bros. They offered me a role, and... I accepted."

"Is that so? You truly are a remarkable talent, Angela," the old man remarked, his smile reflecting his admiration.

The little girl playfully stuck out her tongue and then listened as her grandfather spoke again. "I don't expect an immediate answer, Angela, but I hope you will carefully consider it. If I had been less decisive in the past, perhaps Jared wouldn't have run away from home and maybe he would still be willing to speak to me."

The old man's expression turned regretful, catching Angela off guard. It was the first time she had heard her grandfather speak of that matter directly. 

Curiosity stirred within her, prompting her to inquire further, but she sensed her grandfather's unease and decided against pressing the issue.

"Alright, let's head back," he suggested, gently ruffling Angela's hair. "Remember what I mentioned, Angela. God grants you something..."

"He will surely take something away from me. Yes, I understand," Angela interjected swiftly. She comprehended why her grandfather felt compelled to remind her. However, little did he know that in reality, God had already taken away the most significant thing from her.

Angela turned her gaze towards the distant Jewish synagogue, it's flickering lights captivating her attention. A soft sigh escaped her heart, encapsulating the complex emotions she held within.

At that moment, a voice called out, "Mr. Kleist, is that you?"

Both Angela and her grandfather turned their heads in the direction of the sound. They spotted a family of three standing at the street corner, and the man addressing them seemed to be in his forties. 

Instantly recognizing the familiar face, the old man waved in response, saying, "Yes, it's me, Avner. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Kleist. You're looking better now compared to last time. However, you shouldn't be sitting out here in this damp weather, you should think about your health," Mr. Avner remarked, approaching with his wife and daughter.

"What? Grandpa has been unwell recently?" Angela exclaimed, leaping to her feet and questioning.

"It's alright, my dear. It's nothing serious. It's just a part of aging," the old man reassured her, raising his hand.

"But why didn't anyone inform us?!" the little girl crossed her arms, expressing her frustration, then turned to Avner. "Mr. Avner, can you please explain?"

"Angela, Avner is my personal doctor, not yours. Besides, it's nothing to be concerned about," the old man explained, feeling somewhat helpless.

"No, Grandpa, that's just an excuse. I'm sure you went to Mr. Avner's house, and that's why Grandma isn't aware. Come on, we're going back right away!" Determined and resolute, the little girl reached out to pull her grandfather.

The old man left with no choice, rose from the bench and bid a quick farewell to Aifuna before allowing himself to be led away by his granddaughter. Avner chuckled, watching the pair as they walked off.

"Daddy, is that girl Mr. Kleist's granddaughter?" Avner's 10-year-old daughter inquired out of curiosity.

"Yes, she is. Why do you ask, sweetie?" Avner responded, intrigued.

"Oh, it's nothing. I just feel like I've seen her somewhere before," the young girl mumbled, her eyes fixated on the retreating figure of the other girl.

Almost as if sensing her gaze, the other girl turned her head at that moment, briefly locking eyes with Avner's daughter. 

In that fleeting instant, an unspoken connection was forged, hinting that their paths might cross again in the future.

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