Chapter 56 The Life She Desperately Wanted to Escape

Carrying a cloth bag, Mary walked into the church hall with familiar ease.

Many members of the Women's Auxiliary had already arrived, creating a warm and lively scene. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, seemingly banishing all gloom. The long tables were covered with pristine white tablecloths, holding coffee pots, apple pies, and scones brought by the ladies, filling the air with a sweet, inviting aroma.

"Mary, my dear! Come quickly, I've saved a seat for you!" Eleanor, a white-haired yet spirited matron, waved warmly at Mary. She was the president of the Women's Auxiliary and the organizer of the weekly gatherings.

"Eleanor, you look as energetic as a young woman," Mary said with a smile, walking over to sit in the empty seat beside Eleanor.

Instead of food, this table was laden with balls of yarn in various colors, wool fabrics, sewing kits, and a pile of semi-finished knitted goods—it was the station for the "charity handicraft" activity.

Already a dozen ladies surrounded the table, busy knitting. They ranged from eighteen-year-old girls and mothers in their twenties to elderly women in their sixties. As their hands deftly knitted garments and socks, their voices hummed with animated conversation.

Mary took a half-knitted sweater and her sewing kit out of her large cloth bag, joining the chatter as she continued to knit. This was the third sweater she had knitted this month.

She still opposed America's entry into the war on the side of Britain and France, but the perilous situation on the Western European continent and President Roosevelt's "fireside chat" broadcast ten days ago had made Mary and many others realize the gravity of the crisis. Although they could not send elite troops to support Britain, they hoped that every stitch from their hands could bring warmth to those British soldiers.

"Eleanor, the novel my son wrote was published in a magazine, and he earned quite a royalty from it."

"Oh, as it happens, I brought a few copies. We could hold a little book club after the potluck later."

Proud mother Mary drew several copies of *Astounding Stories* and *The Atlantic Monthly* from her cloth bag.

Naturally, most of these women had no reading habits to speak of and had little concept of such things.

Yet, feigning casual indifference, Mary added, "My son used his royalties to buy me a Whirlpool washing machine. He even knows the great writer Ernest Hemingway and is having Hemingway treat our whole family to dinner."

"Good heavens, Mary, your son bought you an automatic washing machine? He must be making a lot of money!"

"Knowing a celebrity like Ernest Hemingway, your son must be tremendously talented."

While they had no grasp of fiction magazines, the women certainly understood money.

Crowding around Mary, the women chattered all at once. Mary wore a modest smile, but inside, she was brimming with absolute delight.

As more ladies attending the event entered the church, the hall soon subdivided into small circles of discussion and mutual care.

Amidst the rising and falling murmur of conversation, they discussed recipes, complained about the cost of living, gossiped about romantic lives, and shared parenting tips... and of course, the inevitable topic was the war.

Having finished her long-planned bragging, Mary began inquiring if any of the women had daughters of suitable age, pondering the possibility of bringing Ernie to the church to meet them later.

While the women were deep in lively discussion, a rather petite figure entered the hall through the side door.

Judy Garland was finally able to take off her dark sunglasses. Her mother used to bring her to the church to pray when she was a child, and coming here always gave her a slight sense of reassurance. However, she kept her headscarf on; her fair, pretty face was framed within the cloth, and she kept her head lowered.

Last year's release of *The Wizard of Oz* had catapulted her to stardom. Judy Garland had enough self-awareness regarding her own fame to wish to avoid being recognized in a church.

She gathered her headscarf closer as she walked into the church, where the air was scented with coffee, pastries, and wool yarn. She touched her stomach, feeling a bit hungry. That morning, she had skipped the appetite-suppressant pills given by her agent, and the high-calorie food on the long table made her swallow hard in secret.

Remembering the harsh executives at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, a trace of fear gripped her heart, and she forced herself to look away from the food.

To distract herself, she turned her gaze to the women seated together, knitting and chatting about their husbands, children, lives, and the distant war in Europe.

These everyday worries were ordinary yet real, filling Judy Garland with an irrepressible sense of envy.

Just then, Eleanor, the president, noticed the quiet girl.

She walked over kindly, handing her a ball of yarn and two knitting needles. "My dear, is this your first time here? Come and lend a hand, won't you? We're knitting socks and clothes for the soldiers at the front."

Judy Garland felt a brief flutter of panic, though her acting experience kept it from showing too plainly. She smiled and said, "Ma'am, I've never knitted before."

"It doesn't take much skill. As long as your heart is in it, you'll pick it up quickly."

Eleanor had seen too many lonely, introverted girls like this and gently pulled Judy Garland toward the table.

Before she could process what was happening, Judy Garland found herself seated right in the middle of a chattering group of women.

"Welcome, dear, start right in. All these kind ladies will show you what to do." Eleanor handed over the needles and thread once more.

Hesitantly, Judy Garland accepted them. Her hands had never held knitting needles before; all her life, she had hardly ever held anything other than a microphone.

"The new girl is so pretty."

"Needlework is very simple, just follow what I do. Finish up quickly so we can have our potluck together later... You simply must try my apple pie!"

Delighted by the newcomer, the surrounding women enthusiastically began to instruct her.

Maintaining a smile, Judy Garland expressed her thanks and clumsily began to imitate them. Gradually, she got the hang of it, and in this simple, repetitive handiwork, she found a long-lost peace that allowed her to forget her racing thoughts. She no longer needed to worry about dance steps, camera angles, or smiles; she could simply focus on the stitching.

Before she knew how much time had passed, when she finally snapped out of her concentration, a pair of red woolen socks rested in Judy Garland's hands.

"My dear, you've knitted wonderfully. Socks knitted with such care will surely bring warmth to the soldiers on the front lines," Eleanor said with a smile, patting Judy's shoulder.

"Thank you, ma'am," Judy replied, nodding with a smile that came straight from her heart.

She was beginning to enjoy this activity. Here, no one asked her, "Are you ready?", and all she received was patient guidance. No one forced her to remain lively when she was exhausted, constantly making demands of her, forbidding her to eat this or that, and forcing her to practice dance routines in the rehearsal room on an empty stomach.

During the break after the handicraft session, Eleanor led Judy to the dining table and handed her a cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie.

This time, Judy did not refuse. She simply followed her heart, eating and drinking, gradually shedding all her worries, and even... taking off her headscarf.

Yet no one asked for her name; they simply chatted warmly, and when a woman occasionally exclaimed, "You look so much like that movie star Judy Garland!", Judy merely smiled and said, with a slight twinge of guilt, "A lot of people say that," prompting no further questions.

Meanwhile, Mary turned around from another table and happened to catch sight of Judy Garland, her eyes instantly locking on her and refusing to move away.

"This girl is so pretty, she looks like someone I've seen before..."

Let's see if she can be introduced to my son!