Molly, Part 2: She stared in disbelief at the screen. Instead of Lydia's website, a message - that started off with "We're sorry, but..."

Yeah, they were sorry alright!  She had needed to print out the bodice instructions, thought she'd had it down - and besides, if even she didn't know any better, less ink was being put in those ink cartridges.  Sure, mom would help her with the pattern, where to mark, and where NOT to cut.

Come to think of it, didn't she hear one of one of the older women, over at church, say something about a push that had gone on, back in her grandmother's day, to "conserve fabric?"  Yeah, that was at church, because her mom had thumbed up upon hearing the other woman's "...was an excuse then, to keep women out of their... and sure is now."  After which, another woman had cited a Scripture - something about, some girl in the Old Testament wearing a long t-shirt, one that was too short, to be grinding flour.  

Stupid war.  

Yeah, Molly got it:  you don't waste things.  You read over your story, check the spelling, before sending it off to the printer; and you don't wear a good sweater to goof in town.

Sweater...those two creeps...had taken alot of babysitting money...  The one with the pen knife was in her Sunday school class.  But something he had said to the kid sitting beside him...something about a race car driver, who had turned up missing.  "...like a pattern being formed..."   While Molly could have cared less about who was driving, what they were driving, her dad and her brother were fans.  The driver was a Christian, and none too shy about it, either.

While Molly screened back to her email, or wherever, her mom passed behind her.  The woman, on her way into another room, paused briefly, taking a double-take.  While her daughter was either emailing or texting, mom couldn't help noticing her daughter was filling out, top and bottom.  A half eaten donut was sitting upon a napkin, near the mouse.