Free Rohn Federbush - Sally Bianco 02 - The Appropriate Way by Rohn Federbush

by way of Jill. Why hadn’t he called her? She would take the dumb dress, which needed at least a second night out before her mother gave it away to the church’s auction.
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    June 1958
    On the day of the Lincoln trip, Sally wore blue-and-white checked, thigh-gripping shorts which showed off her fitness. Thank God for Flicka, the rental horse she road every rainless Saturday. The posting exercise firmed up the last of her baby fat. The blouse with a matching collar could be turned up so her hair wouldn’t cling to her neck in the heat. Her prescription sunglasses might even impress Jill.
    The drive down to Lincoln was tiresome, with monotonous flat landscape creeping by. They stopped for gas once. After handing Jill a ten spot for the gas, Sally hurried into the dirty bathroom. The walls were gray from fumes, the sink untouchable. When she tried unlocking the door to leave, it wouldn’t open. She pulled and pounded until Jill came over and yelled directions. The sticky lock finally gave way and the door opened. “Locked in a dirty, gas station washroom for eternity,” Sally said, as she got in the car. “There’s a description of Dante’s Inferno.”
    “We wasted ten minutes.” Jill’s short red hair never dared slip out of place. Her khaki shorts kept their pleat and her dark green blouse remained free of any perspiration stains. Easy to become acquainted with on the surface, Jill kept her inner-self hidden. Jill didn’t delve into the workings of her own mind. A block of some kind rose to shield her from self-scrutiny. Outside she exuded perfection, while her soul stayed crouched in a morass of fear. Fear of what? Probably rejection. Jill continued to harp on two subjects. One was how much her father hated Tony and the other was how long did Sally know Art.
    Sally devised a defense. Whenever Art was the subject of inquiry, she would ask a question about Tony. Jill said she didn’t know why she was so attracted to Tony.
    “The lack of moral severity could make Tony a delight.”
    “Moral severity?” Jill hooted. “Half the time people don’t know what you’re talking about. What is Dante’s Inferno? All I know is my father wants Tony to leave me alone!”
    When they finally reached the Lincoln campus, Sally escaped the confining car. Tall elms provided slim shade on the leaf-strewn paths to the dormitory. A hint of wintry breeze cooled her lungs, heightened her spirits. Awkward around Tony and Jill, Sally thought Art’s cold hello meant he was as uncomfortable. Tony’s mocking remarks about Sally’s appearance sounded too familiar, insincere. Art suggested lunch. Sally was too excited to eat in the diner.
    Tony told an off-color joke. Sally couldn’t laugh, it was so gross. Art groaned, but Jill laughed on cue. Sally ordered coffee, but when the black sludge arrived it proved too tepid to drink.
    Jill scolded her. “We’re all waiting for you to finish your coffee.”
    “I don’t want it.” She was embarrassed by Jill’s vehemence.
    “Then why did you order it?” Tony demanded.
    “Never mind.” Art defended her.
    “It’s too cold.” Sally looked into Art’s eyes.
    He squeezed her hand. “It’s okay.” Then turning to Jill and Tony, he offered, “Let’s go for a ride.”
    “Good idea.” Tony winked. He drove Jill’s car with Art and Sally in the back seat.
    Art slid over next to Sally and put his arm around her shoulder with his other hand on her knee. “Why do you smell like fresh cut grass?”
    Sally laughed. “I was born on a farm?” She gave herself up to the delicious pleasure of being held by Art. Every few miles, she pushed his hand back down to her knee, twice. Finally, Art put his head in her lap pulling her down for a kiss. Sally returned his sweet kisses. How had she existed, survived so long without them. Her hair swept his face whenever she straightened up. She loved his face. His great dark eyes were offset with long black lashes. She wanted to