The Soft-Hearted Wife of Mr. Big Shot-Chapter 76: Celebrating Holly Sawyer’s Birthday
She didn’t want to refuse Nancy Miller’s kindness; Nancy truly saw her as a sister.
"Then I’ll text my mom."
Seeing Holly agree, Nancy lit up with happiness and quickly took out her phone to text Wendy Wright.
Previously, she wasn’t sure Holly would certainly agree.
Holly’s birthday; Leo Grant should celebrate it, right?
That’s what Nancy was thinking.
Holly curled her lips: "Sure."
Pretty good.
She took out her phone and sent a message to Leo, something along the lines of how she wasn’t going home for dinner tonight, but Leo didn’t reply.
"I thought you’d refuse, though, sis."
Nancy blinked as she looked at Holly, speaking.
Holly looked puzzled, "Hmm?"
"Young Master Grant would celebrate it for you. I didn’t hold much hope initially."
Nancy shrugged, her face expressing joy.
"He doesn’t know."
Holly shook her head.
As someone with amnesia in Leo’s eyes, she obviously wouldn’t know her own birthday.
"Oh gosh."
Nancy was somewhat stunned. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢
"I have amnesia."
Holly slowly ate the meat from her bowl, speaking casually.
"Oh, I see now."
Nancy quickly realized, so that’s how it is.
Leo cares so much for Holly; if he knew her birthday, he would surely celebrate it and might even prepare a surprise.
"Then won’t you tell him, sis?"
Nancy blinked, looking at Holly puzzled.
Birthdays mean turning a year older; in Nancy’s eyes, it’s quite an important occasion, right?
Everyone views things differently; Nancy feels birthdays are important, while Holly feels indifferent.
"No, people with amnesia wouldn’t remember their own birthday."
Holly gently shook her head; she never really cared about such ceremonial feelings, hence indifferent.
Although Leo always knew she wasn’t actually amnesiac, she couldn’t reveal herself on her own.
Nancy nodded, feeling Holly was making sense.
They chatted away while eating hot pot, both in good spirits.
After finishing hot pot, Nancy took Holly out shopping to digest food before heading to her home.
Wendy Wright was cooking in the kitchen; she appeared much more haggard after the divorce, but she still greeted Holly with a friendly smile.
The house wasn’t large, with three bedrooms, one living room, and one bathroom, ample for Nancy and Wendy to live together.
"Mom, we’re back."
Nancy headed straight into the kitchen upon arriving home.
It’s more comfortable here than at the Miller Family’s home.
"You guys watch TV for a bit, dinner will be ready soon."
Wendy pushed Nancy out.
"Holly, treat this as your own home."
She then spoke to Holly.
Her entire demeanor radiated enthusiasm, just like the first time meeting Holly.
"Got it, Auntie."
Holly’s attitude was especially polite.
"The cake is handmade by my mom."
A cake was placed on the coffee table in the living room; Nancy leaned closer to Holly, speaking with mystery.
The cake wasn’t large; Holly estimated it was just enough for three people.
When homemade, the significance changes.
Some say giving expensive gifts best expresses sincerity, the more costly the gift, the more important the person is in one’s heart; price is the sole standard for measuring worth.
Holly scoffed at this, finding it quite amusing how in this materialistic society, price could become a standard for measuring worth.
Holly believed the actual value of a gift isn’t important; it’s the thought behind it that counts.
The saying goes, "A thousand miles bring a goose feather, the gift may be light, but the sentiment is heavy."
A gift that’s thoughtfully prepared and aligns with the recipient’s preferences is the best, unrelated to its expense.
"Auntie is really skillful."
Holly smiled; her gaze towards Nancy was gentle.
Wendy Wright is a very nice woman; Miles Miller didn’t know how to cherish her.
"And your mom?"
Nancy blinked, looking at Holly with curiosity.
Never having heard Holly mention her mother, Nancy was quite curious.
"She was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, accustomed to having things served to her; how could she handle such things?"
Holly shook her head, looking a bit resigned.
Rose Sawyer never stepped into the kitchen; her life was simple, consisting of flower arranging, afternoon tea with friends, getting her hair done, beauty treatments, and such.
She couldn’t even cook scrambled eggs with tomatoes, much less anything else.
"Sounds nice."
Nancy bit her lip lightly, she looked somewhat enviously at Holly.
She wasn’t envying Holly; she was envying Holly’s mother on behalf of her own mother.
Though people say it’s a society of equality now, the gap between individuals remains substantial.
Birth is merely a starting point; some win at the starting line right at birth, while others need to exert immense effort to catch up.
Things that some work ambitiously for are what others naturally possess.
Wendy Wright and Rose Sawyer are vastly different; that’s why Miles Miller abandoned Wendy to marry Rose.
Because by marrying Rose, Miles Miller could avoid lots of struggling; he chose advantage over affection.
"No need to envy her; she’s only glamorous on the surface."
Holly shook her head, understanding Nancy’s feelings.
"Let’s stop discussing this. Since it’s your birthday today, we should focus on cheerful topics."
Nancy quickly shifted the conversation.
Wendy soon finished preparing dinner; the table was filled with delicious-looking food, tempting Holly’s appetite.
"Auntie, your cooking is amazing."
Holly looked at the abundant spread on the table, swallowing her saliva as she spoke.
Even before taking a bite, just the aroma made Holly believe it must taste delicious; the fragrance alone made her salivate.
"Practice makes perfect."
Though living in a small town not belonging to a wealthy family, her parents’ love meant she never entered a kitchen growing up.
Learning to cook was indeed because of Miles Miller, and cooking more led to skill improvement.
Nancy pursed her lips as she observed Wendy, thinking her mom seemed foolish.
A meal gradually passed amidst conversation; the sky had yet to darken, while Nancy arranged to cut the cake.
Due to the distance, Holly returning home as it gets dark wouldn’t be appropriate after all.
Thus, while dusk hadn’t settled, they celebrated Holly’s birthday as quickly as possible.
"So pretty."
Nancy opened the cake, prompting Holly to instinctively praise.
The birthday cake was small but exquisitely refined, beautiful enough to indicate Wendy’s skill was genuinely adept — seeming to master everything.
Nancy placed eighteen candles on it, winked at Holly, "Forever eighteen."
The best age is eighteen; presumably, every girl wishes to remain eighteen forever.
