Elm Creek Quilts [06] The Master Quilter by Jennifer Chiaverini Page A

bored out of her mind simply to make a point. Worse yet was the idea of herself humbled, acquiescent, willingly switching research topics to please the selection committee. She might be able to do so if she accepted their assessment of her work, but she did not. “Not all departments believe that women’s stories are irrelevant,” she said.
    Judy shrugged. “It is possible to outgrow a college. You can be happy for many years, but one day, you realize you’ve gone as far as you can go. Sometimes the best and only way to pursue your research is to pursue it somewhere else.”
    Gwen would hate to leave Waterford College, Elm Creek Quilts, Summer. But she was a long way from retirement and refused to be shuffled off to her rocking chair where she could work on her girlie projects while younger women like Annette were celebrated for their important work.
    She had to find a middle ground. If her ongoing research wouldn’t impress the department, she would find something new, but she would not abandon quilts simply because some stuffy old men didn’t understand their significance. It was her job as an educator to make them understand.
    But it wouldn’t hurt to find something that would also win her a grant.

    Gwen managed to avoid Bill and Annette the next day, but she found little comfort in the sympathies of the two American Studies professors who stopped by her office once the official announcement was made. Her grad students, perhaps warned away by Jules, did not seek her out, so she left campus right after her last class. She would work at home until it was time to leave for the weekly business meeting at Elm Creek Manor. Bonnie wanted them to arrive early so she could show them the first blocks of Sylvia’s bridal quilt.
    Was it any wonder Gwen preferred the energy and camaraderie of the manor to the suspicious temper of the Liberal Arts building? Elm Creek Quilts was collaborative, cooperative, and—she dared to say—matriarchal, while academia was still a rigid hierarchy despite the varying political winds that drifted across it, altering its surface without changing the deeper layers. As an idealistic student, she had thought the university was a place where the love of learning and the sharing of ideas were celebrated; now she knew that argument and backbiting were the norm, the egalitarian exchange of knowledge an afterthought.
    Or maybe she was just bitter. Judy never seemed to encounter politicking and backstabbing. All she ever complained about was inadequate funding and too many boring department meetings.
    The gray stone manor was a welcome sight as Gwen crossed the bridge over Elm Creek. She parked near the middle of the lot, where a patch of snow-covered grass encircled two towering, bare-limbed elms. Summer’s car was not there, but inside Gwen found Bonnie, Agnes, and Diane, and Judy soon joined them. Gwen wished Summer was there; she never failed to help Gwen put her disappointments in proper perspective. Still, Gwen joined in the usual banter and admired the blocks until Sylvia’s sudden arrival sent them scrambling. Fortunately, Sarah managed to fling the blocks into the pantry before Sylvia saw them, but her feeble cover story made Gwen cringe. Miraculously, Sylvia believed it, or pretended to, and the Elm Creek Quilters went to the parlor to begin the meeting.
    Sarah began with the good news that enrollment for the coming season was up fifteen percent. “Your Photo Transfer workshop is especially popular, Gwen,” she added. “Summer and I thought it would be a good idea to offer a second session each week. If you’re up for it.”
    Gwen shrugged. “Sure. Why not? Once the spring semester ends, I’ll have plenty of time.” Much more time than she had intended or hoped, but she needn’t tell Sarah that. No one but Summer and Judy knew how much she had counted on that appointment.
    Not long into the meeting, Summer burst in, slipping out of her coat and full of apologies. She wore her long