Page 89 of The Woman Who Couldn't Scream
At the quilting table, all needles froze in midair. Every eye was fixed on the scene between Elsa Cipre and Mrs. Golobovitch, and no one knew what to say, what to do, how to alleviate the tension.
Mrs. Golobovitch said, “Mrs. Cipre, I have led this group to four blue ribbons at the county fair—”
“I guided young women’s lives foryears. Do you hear me? Years! Do you know who I am?”
“No.” Mrs. Golobovitch leaned her hands on the table and tried to catch Elsa’s eyes. “Nor do I want—”
The rotary cutter swerved within millimeters of Mrs. Golobovitch’s fingertips.
Kateri half-rose, expecting to have to render aid.
Mrs. Golobovitch leaped back, saving herself, and her outrage changed to wariness, caution, suspicion.
Elsa Cipre never noticed. Or if she did, she didn’t deign to show it. “Itaught Home Sciences at Northeastern Christian University, and within ten years I had vanquished all other contenders and I was the head of the program. I taught those young women more than sewing and cooking. I taught them how to make a house a home. I taught flower arrangement, interior decorating, gardening.Quilting. I taught them creativity.”
“You were like Martha Stewart,” Emma Royalty said.
Elsa whipped around and faced the quilting table, still clutching that rotary cutter. “Thatfaker. If I had accepted a television show, my Home Sciences program would still be in place. I would still be guiding young ladies to seek the pinnacle of their womanhood. Yet I would not lower myself to anything so vulgar.”
“IlikeMartha Stewart,” Emma said, but she muttered under her breath as if Elsa Cipre intimidated her.
Bette Abrahamson, who had her own background of academic honors, asked, “Mrs. Cipre, were there no young men in your classes?”
“None seriously. Not at first. Some, of course, thought to get an easy A by attending my basic baking classes.” Elsa stacked the strips she had cut, turned them 45 degrees and began to make small triangles for some design she had created in her mind. “But they found out soon enough they were expected to knead dough into a loaf of white bread with a good crumb. They were expected to produce a pie crust so crisp it crumbled in a stiff breeze. Their angel food cakes had better be light and heavenly. Some of them thought to cheat, to get their girlfriends to do the work for them, but I watched closely and they performed those tasks or their easy A dropped to a big fat F. I would not sacrifice the integrity of my courses, not even for those young men who thought themselves privileged sports stars. As the seventies progressed, some brave young men came to realize the value of my instruction and enrolled for their own sakes. I updated the program, adding knowledge about car mechanics, horticulture, technology. I kept up to date!”
Merida signed, Lilith translated. “What happened to your classes?”
“I should have had tenure. It was time for me to have tenure. And the college…” Elsa stopped, head down, and breathed heavily. “The college canceled the whole program. They said Home Sciences was a dated concept, that young women—young people—didn’t need to learn good housewifery, that getting a job was more important than making a home.” She threw out her hand in a grand, dramatic gesture. “In this day and age when so many people work so hard to succeed in a daytime job, and in the evening provide succor for their families, it’s obvious that—”
The library door slammed back.
Everyone turned, gasped.
A man’s hulking silhouette loomed against the light.
Dawkins Cipre stepped inside.
Everything about Elsa’s demeanor changed; she went from wildly indignant instructor to cowed female. “Dawkins! Dear! I didn’t know you were… close. To here.”
“You disappeared, Elsa, darling. I didn’t know where you were or what you were doing. You know I need to keep track of you.” He sounded so genial… and he looked so threatening.
Kateri slid her hand off the quilt and loosened the snap over her 9mm semiautomatic.
Like a bug caught in amber, Elsa struggled to get free. “I wasn’t trying to escape… you. I simply… I saw the flyer for the quilting group. You know how I love to quilt.”
“At all times, I need to know where you are.” He was a big man, and as he advanced into the room, fists clenched, every woman there shrank back.
Especially Elsa.
His whole attention was fixed… on Elsa.
She scrambled to put the table between him and her.
He caught her arm and dragged her.
Her hip smashed into the corner of the table.
He brought her close. His fingers squeezed her flesh.
