Medford mail tribune., January 12, 1958, Image 41

phone, when she remembered. Today's crisis wasn't a little one.
It wasn't just the car. She couldn't call John, because she didn't
love him any more.
Walking the six blocks through the cold to do her errands,
Julianne wouldn't let herself cry. She had to be calm and brave.
It wouldn't be easy for John, to learn suddenly that she had
changed, that maybe he wouldn't be hearing her voice on the
phone after this or ever again helping her with her little crises.
She'd have to explain it to him gently.
She stopped first at the laundromat, then went on to the service
station. Mr. Simmons was obliging as usual. "Sure," he said, "I'll
send up a rental battery. But you tell the mister he better get a
new battery for that old car."
Julianne nodded and hurried out. She couldn't explain to Mr.
Simmons that she had something much more important to "tell
the mister." Vaguely, bitterly, she wondered about Mrs. Simmons.
Did she love her husband, even with his hands so dirty and grease
on his face?
At the butcher shop, still thinking about the Simmonses and
fighting tears again, Julianne suddenly went all soft and spent
three days' budget on a steak. A small porterhouse cut thick, to be
cooked rare the way John liked it. This might be the last time
she'd ever cook a steak for him. Maybe she wouldn't even be
living with him any more. Maybe he wouldn't want her.
How would she live without John? But she mustn't think about
that now. She had to think about him, about telling him as kindly
as she could. Perhaps the steak would soften the blow and show
him that she really, well, that she wasn't just . . . Anyway, it was
a nice thing to do.
I ohn always put his key in the door promptly at 5: 49. At 5: 30 the
dinner was progressing by careful plan and Julianne was
dressed in her best. She had spent two hours on her hair, her
nails, and countless indecisive tryings-on. She had finally chosen
the New Year's Eve dress, low-cut and shimmering, because it was
John's favorite and they had been so gay that night. Maybe the
dress, too, would soften the blow and show him that she didn't
just care nothing about him at all.
She sat on the sofa to wait. Her fingers picked little balls of fuzz
from the gray upholstery, and there was an odd ieeling in her
stomach. With two minutes to go, she went to put the steak in the
broiler. Her hands shook, and there was definitely something
wrong with her chest.
Then she was at the door, hearing his footsteps in the hall, his
key in the lock. Just for a second she thought she was going to be
sick with the flipflop in her stomach. The door opened and there
he was, grinning, his big ears red with cold.
The tingling started in her back and crept up to her neck. It was
just starting down her arms when she threw herself on him,
hugging him, crying, kissing a big red ear.
"Oh John, I love you so," she said.
He held her close and kissed her yellow hair. "I love you, too,
Honey," he said in a husky voice that started the tingling all over
again. "And I needn't have bothered with these silly flowers."
She hadn't even seen the green package until, with his arms
still holding her, he threw it from behind her back. It hardly
bounced on the sofa before she was tearing off the paper, burying
her face in the blossoms. "Sweetheart roses," she breathed, awed
and wondering.
He looked embarrassed. "I don't know, why I bought them," he
said. "It was just, well, just that lately I thought . . . Well, I
wondered ... Oh nuts!" He pulled her to him, rough and tender.
"Everything's wonderful now."
She clung to him, stroking his straight brown hair. Everything
was wonderful now, especially John. She wished the kiss he gave
her could last forever.
But John's head came up. His nose wrinkled, sniffing. "What's
burning?" he asked.
Julianne gave a little wail. Then she broke out laughing as she
headed for the kitchen.
"It's just a silly steak I bought for you," she said. "And I needn't
have bothered, either."
H
:
Family Weekly, January 12, 1951
11
Her name . . . Jeryl Johnson
Her occupation . . . Fashion Model
Her shampoo ... Halo
In the highly competitive profession of modelling, Jeryl stands at the top.
Her lovely face and hair have been photographed literally thousands of times.
31
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Because of its unique cleansing ingredient . . .
Halo Shampoo leaves hair
Cleaner, Softer, Brighter than
any oily, greasy, soapy shampoo
HALO
I
Lovely Jeryl Johnson chooses Halo because no
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Halo reveals the hidden beauty of your hair.
See for yourself why Halo is
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